A Travelin’ Fool (a personal story from the road)

For romance and love I traveled across borders, over land and sea. The man I went to spend the holidays with this sent a text message to me hours after leaving silently in the middle of the night.  The message was sent from the farthest possible point on the island away from me, four hours north of our cabin. 

The text read something like this: “I can’t do this.  Be best if you were gone before I return.  Thanks for the laughs.”  Hmmph.  My response: “Okay. Already packed.  Cabin is clean and sealed with a kiss.”

WHAT?  You may ask.  Weren’t you scared in a foreign country with no money? Didn’t you cry or anything? Nope. Like a little soldier I left that cabin with map in hand ready for my next adventure.

I was in on Vancouver Island in British Columbia during this most recent leap of faith love-interest I saw steamy waterfalls, rocky beaches, tree house spheres, bald eagles, Trumpeter swans, oyster farms and totem poles.

What I didn’t see was the steel fortress around my very own heart so eloquently shrouded in dancing daisies and neon rainbows.

One of my life journeys and greatest joys is to travel and observe the nuances of nature and humankind. I crave going to new places to see what’s there and to ponder why it exists. And people! Oh, how I love to listen to their stories and watch their faces as they share their dreams.  Nose to nose, eye to eye.

Another life journey is to find my heart. Funny thing is I thought I had this one in the bag until discovered that belief was just a mirage; a picture of my heart pretending to be real. Vibrant? Yes! But only a mask covering the old layers of crud and pain. After experiencing the heartache of lost lovers or friends becoming silent from my communication fopauxs, I should have become more aware of my issues. But instead of making me wiser I’ve become the hardened Crone from those mystic stories of the feminine path. Fuck, this sucks.

My heart is in there somewhere I just know it, but time has given me some pretty justifiable reasons to keep it safe from harm. The result is a heart that is cold and a tad bit cynical.  Like a baby kangaroo in its mama’s pouch that peeks out once in a while, then goes back in where it’s safe and warm. It is also dark and small in there; how can my heart possibly grow under such conditions?

Traveling speaks to my soul. I’m content, happy and fulfilled on the open road without a destination, yet when I view this vagabonding lifestyle from afar I see that it keeps me distanced from deeper relationships. Therein lies my next journey of discovery: for me to remove those daisies and rainbows that have become to expose that useless fortress in order to dispose of it quickly, then give my heart sunshine and space to come alive.

I’m not quite sure “how” this change is going to happen. I believe in God and the Art of Allowing – staying out of my own way and letting God do His stuff. But what if I don’t learn?  What if I don’t/can’t recover my heart?  The “Art of Allowing”, as explained through Esther Hicks, means that my awareness of the fortress around my heart combined with a desire for it to be removed, the Universe will align to make that happen.  

However, in my former life I was a “list maker” and an accomplished “checker-offer”. In other words I’m trying to move away from this rigidity: “Here’s what I can do to open my heart by June 2014: I can attend classes, read books, set a schedule with color-coded pie charts to quickly, systematically tear down the fortress”, and instead move toward trusting the journey to the Universe … OR a hybrid of both.

All I know is I want to have an open heart ready to love others fully and be able to accept love from others; to give freely and loose the judgments. I’d like to it all with grace, eloquence and humor.

I’ve heard people say “You’re so brave for traveling the country on your own!”  Well, quite honestly, that is easy for me.

This?

THIS is going to be scary!

 

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