Moving Box of Solitude

I turn the key in the ignition. And we’re off. This is my think tank. My moving box of solitude to connect all the dots.

She hasn’t crossed my mind in weeks. As close as we believe to be, we rarely make an effort to stay up to date in each other’s lives. Not that I need a daily check up, but I’ve never turned sour over a love note. We all need reminders that we are appreciated as is. I just want a phone call. I’ll even settle for a text.

I can’t decide if I want the closeness. Besides, she’s probably busy numbing herself and putting up more walls to attach her mind too. Shame. She’s another wasted potential. Judgement.

It’s 3:30pm, why the hell did I decide to drive at this time in the city? The bumpers begin to blur like Tetris and my mind wanders off. A different thought intersects. I remember her laugh. I can see her head tossed back, curls a flow and innocent joy filling her insides. That’s my favorite picture of her, tucked away. So who really has walls then? I certainly haven’t called. I certainly haven’t made my most valiant effort, but of course, I’ll blame anyone but myself. I don’t need anymore self doubt to interfere.

Am I bringing my best self? Not even a question. If I was, the preceding chatter wouldn’t exist. *ring, ring* No way… she’s calling. Can she hear me? Does she know I’m thinking of her? Yes, of course. Our distracted, slightly nervous chatter drowns out the traffic. She seems well, but she’s holding back.

It’s this surfaced conversation that makes me realize that she can feel every thought I have toward her. Every judgement that separates. Every stone cast. This is no glass house I am living in. It’s time to accept her as is. No expectations for the life I see fit for her. In my acceptance of her, lies greater acceptance of own self.

We are all energetic beings. Being so, we are deeply aware of our surroundings and the elements that affect it. Think differently. We can feel all thoughts in between.

The call ends and traffic clears. Here, in my moving box of solitude I feel a wave of warmth as if she’s giving a hug from a far. I return the embrace.

At The Edge

Literally, sitting at the edge of a cliff. The sun rises over the Verde Vally and rays of light paint the canyon’s luminous walls. I’m at my wits end. Sitting in the low hang of my camping chair, I bid my childhood metamorphosis farewell. I’ve become a nomad again. A nomad in pursuit of my rightful home. I have no intention of ever settling. Yet, I have every intention of laying a foundation to hold my kingdom – the intangible empire of boundless love and all-encompassing truth. The wind rustling in the trees, like the sound of a loaded highway, is enough to hear God continuously knocking on my door to stay present.

I look around, circling glances in all directions as if a surprise party was about to jump out at me. I am completely alone – until my friend awakes from the nest of car camping. I take a deep breath in, close my eyes, and offer surrender. These are the moments I crave more. Most people are afraid to eat in a restaurant by themselves. Me, on the other hand, I want my feet planted in solitude. While humans are communal beings, taking the time to refresh and connect to your own Oneness allows you to connect to all other beings even more. But we always want more of what we don’t have. So I make sure to savor this one because you never know how many there really will be. The real challenge is to mirror this feeling in each and every moment. That is the only place it exists. I also realize that the peace of mind I crave doesn’t come in dehydrated camping meals overlooking mother nature. No, the peace of mind I crave can only be provided by letting go of the pieces that puzzle the mind. Detachment.

The hibiscus tea in my jet boil is finally cool enough to sip. It sends a floral rush of warmth through me as I continue sitting with my aloneness. I hover above me and smile down for all that has led me here and take stock of sacred moments that color my story. I realize at this cliff that I am celebrating an end to era and beginning another. This new reign is one of independence and requires my complete soulful devotion. No longer can elders force feed their ideas of a better life or boyfriends tell me they think they know what’s best for me. No more conforming to social expectations or sticking around when my work has been done. No more shell of story. I was the only one invited to my surprise party. Though it’s really no surprise at all.

“Good morning,” his voice softly landed amongst the trees. I wasn’t alone anymore.

The Nature of Experience

It was one of those cosmic interactions. You know, the kind that make the hair on the back of your neck stand up and everything in your immediate vicinity hits the pause button. Time freezes, hovering over the moment.

We’ve met for over a year – always the same coffee shop, always a new seat. A mutual friend introduced us, and immediately we knew to walk through the door of connection. He was a professor at my university, though I never took his class, I was his student. His lessons were far from academic curriculum, instead, they concentrated on the beyond, the unknown, the fear, the why. In the hustle of coffee beans scenting the air, we exchanged our stories. Everything was up for discussion, from his recent bout in culinary school to my trials of accepting my soon-to-be wedded sister. I gave him my trust and he gave me honesty.

This past week was one of our last interactions before my departure. I am leaving on another chapter of self discovery and adventure, something he surprisingly supports as a well-adjusted adult.  I presented him with the idea of sharing my experiences openly and publicly. My intention here is to offer a firsthand narrative on the pursuit of happiness, truth and authenticity. I wanted to write something that others can chew on, digest and expand from.

“If you do it for other people, it will change the nature of your experience,” he said.

I felt tears well up on the verge of moistening my dry cheeks. His reaction not only inspired me to wholeheartedly plunge into this, wherever it may lead, but also accept my voice as is. The rather beautiful part of having your own experience is you are the only one that can know what it means to you, only you can feel the impact and savor the taste. While the caffeine buzz has faded, his wisdom lingers as a reminder that wherever nature’s winding road may lead, the experience will always lead you home, back to you.