a trip

Day One.
Hour One – emotional train wreck. Period.

Hour Two- a little bit better

Regrets cover me
And I want to let them blow away
With the wind in my hair
And I will never be the same again

Please Lord give me some endurance
to never make the same mistakes again
To never neglect myself or my heart
Or that of those around me
I want to bring heart and truth to life

Hour Four- left arm and leg totally burnt from the sun through the window
Kansas is flat and long and boring. I sing loudly and dance to keep myself awake. Something about this combination brings a smile to my face.
“We don’t live long, and dancing is almost always a good idea” –Anne Lamott

Hour Five- right foot hurts, and my calf just cramped due to lack of cruise control.

Letting go
Asking for freedom
Break down
Let go again

Hour Seven- My road trip mix from Noelle holds me. I might be going deaf.  Hair so knotted I can no longer run my fingers through it. Rest stop number five, that’s where a small bladder gets you. I meet Harold here, a seventy something bald man who is stooped at the waist. He is stretching in the grass, as am I. He’s on his way to Utah for a science conference of sorts, presenting a paper on soybeans. “Are you interested in soybeans?” He wants to know. I’m not quite sure how to respond to this. “ I am interested in a little bit of everything,” I say. He begins to talk about things that I can’t begin to understand. But I smile and nod and find a bit of joy in listening to this man. 15 minutes later I gently interrupt to say I need to be on my way.

Hour I don’t even know anymore- I finally pull into Denver. The infinite skyline filled with the Rocky Mountains. Now this is beauty. The sun is deep orange peering over the mountains edge. I am tempted to shut off my phone, to run away from the drama of home. I just want to really be alone but my mind is preoccupied. I stop for some bread, apples and PBJ. Drive on to Boulder – hoping to get closer, and find a place to call home.
I pull into Boulder International Hostel, a multi story white building with tall columns and large open doors. Light is pouring out from inside where you can see long bookshelves and coffee pots boiling, hikers and wanderers drinking fancy beers on the porch. I pay 20 dollars for a spot in the dorm. But as I put my bag down I feel suddenly alone. Its painful and emotional and I wonder why. It’s just me now. I am my only help, but I long to again discover help in the God in whom I believe. I will myself quickly to sleep as I pray for a new day.

Morning comes, and I awake sweaty and still alone, thoughts cover me before I can even think, and I attempt to shake them quickly away. I shower hurriedly and wander down the street to a coffee shop in a shack. I sit on the patio in the crisp air with my breakfast and intently watch the people around me. A dad sketching the girls at the next table over, his son nearby engrossed in a Calvin and Hobbs. The girls are quiet and laid back, yet seemingly full of life, tanned, unshaven and muscular, hair worn long and free, makeup free, spirit free. The boy in front of me cant be more than 20, unkempt, tight jeans, paint on his hands, life in his eyes, smoking as he reads the paper. Those passing by are clinging to their instruments or backpacking gear looking as though they are on some big adventure, a life much more exciting than my own. I want to be hairy and unkempt and free. I finish my coffee and move away from the table back to the hostel to grab my boots and explore the flatirons. I breath deeply and sigh loudly, maybe there will be some clarity in this crisp mountain air. I pull through town and into the largest farmers market I have ever seen. I wander through the packed streets. Carts of produce, handmade breads, flowers and carefully beaded earrings fill the streets. Sitting in the park I sip a fresh fruit smoothie and listen to the men play their drums. I am happy and alive and alone. I think about life, and what it means to be among the living. How do I make my life into what I want it to be? What must I do to become someone that stands for something? That loves well, that gives without expectation, begs nothing, forgives much. To embrace, to find peace, to let go. Shares always, listens intently, speaks honestly, lives with vitality. I want to pursue living uniquely with integrity and with heart. I also want to appreciate what is, instead of always fretting about what I wish was. Its like hanging in an invisible hammock strung between here and there. And in this I have felt lost. Yet today I am lost, alone, but unafraid.