Wildflowers

“When I grow up, I want to remember that I wanted to be about a thousand different things and one lifetime didn’t seem nearly enough. When I grow up, I hope it’s at the very end when it doesn’t matter anymore anyway.”

It is times like this where I am blown away by the notion of complete strangers who are able to take words straight from my soul and make them eloquent and relatable and actually make sense; words that I didn’t even know I wanted to say until I listened to someone else say them; words that cut me to the core and really open my teary eyes. It is times like this where I don’t feel totally alone in life…both the expanse of entire Earth and in my own little bitty world.  And it’s times like this where I know for certain that I although I have no idea what my life has in store for me two months from now, hell…even two days from now, that I am exactly where I need to be and I always will be, and that alone just has to be enough to get me through another day. Whether an adventurous or monotonous day, because each day is another day of my life and it’s all a part of my story… like it or not. I decided to stop planning so far ahead. I think I have a major subconscious anxiety issue; this is not something I am always aware of, which I guess is why my body externalizes it in the form of a rash on my arms and neck. So although plans for the future can be exciting, I have decided to just plan one step at a time…and let that step lead me where it is supposed to – to the next. I should listen to myself and actually let life just happen. I am much better at life when I am just living than I am when I am trying to live.

I’ve been running standing still the past year or so… not quite sure where I’m running to or what I am running from. Would it matter if I knew anyway? I suppose I am running toward a fulfilled life; just one problem: what will truly fulfill me? What do I want out life? Who do I want to be in this life? Who do I want to know in this life? I am hoping, most of all, these questions answer themselves in time. I can be patient…I just need to see a light at the end of the tunnel to show me I am heading down the right track, if there even is just one right path to follow. I need some serious solitude; some quality me time that will hopefully bring about relief to my head full of doubt. I need a purely selfish break from routine. Sometimes I feel like maybe I am being far too irresponsible; like I am doing everything possible to avoid obligations… but I know it’s more than that. I don’t want to live an ordinary life… a routine life… an unhappy life. I just need to be as free as possible for now...

Tom Petty says it all for me.

You belong among the wildflowers

… You belong somewhere you feel free

Run away, find you a lover

Go away somewhere all bright and new

… You belong with your love on your arm

… Run away, let your heart be your guide

…You belong among the wildflowers

You belong somewhere close to me

Far away from your trouble and worry

You belong somewhere you feel free

             

Wanderlust

Wanderlust: A strong, innate desire to rove or travel about. After three and a half weeks of work with a total of three days off, I was beginning to lose my mind a little and I was absolutely burnt out. The new schedule was posted last week and I was ecstatic to learn I had two consecutive days off! I immediately began weighing options of where to travel and decided on Homer. After a little research I knew a few places I wanted to check out, but mostly was just going to see where the locals directed me…

Tuesday after work, I quickly changed into my ‘adventure attire’ and have never felt more like my true self. I started packing all the gear I would need to camp out for a couple days. I had planned to go alone, and was thrilled at the concept of some independence. As I was packing, I heard a knock on my door; Charlotte asked where I was going, and said she had planned on going to Homer too. So we decided to go together, and in retrospect I am really glad I had a companion for the trip. We hitchhiked there, despite the promise to my mother I would no longer take rides from strangers! Within 20 minutes of thumbs in the wind a car stopped and the driver, Paulo, agreed to take us the whole way (165 miles). I was a little hesitant to trust this guy who was willing to take us a total of two hours out of his way. Soon into the drive he started lecturing Charlotte and I about how we needed to take on responsibilities and have real jobs and have courage and on and on and on. LAME. With no music and no conversation, it wasn’t too long before both of us started drifting to sleep; I was trying so hard to keep my eyes open but even the thought of waking up in a strange deserted place awaiting death wasn’t enough to keep me awake. We passed Soldotna, then Kenai…where he started to doubt the chosen navigation. Turns out Paulo thought Homer was about an hour closer than it actually was. But since he had never been to Homer, he decided to take us the rest of the way regardless. We got into town and he dropped us off at Salty Dawg Saloon, hinting at the idea of grabbing a beer together; Charlotte and I said our genuine thanks and bolted.

The couple days in Homer were a blast, cold…but a blast. We hitched about six rides in town to get from place to place, drivers ranging from southern hicks (with names like Joe Bob) to the town trolley to a dirty hippie to a city worker to a totally normal woman. We got to know a lot about many different Homer locals! We ate amazing food, tasted wine at the winery, and watched a movie during a nasty storm. I slept in a tent the first night, and decided to stay in the hostile the second. Homer is so awesome; I cannot wait to go back!

The day of departure we got a ride halfway with an awesome older guy who thought what we were doing was admirable and promised to come visit us in Seward. He dropped us off at the Soldotna brewery where we picked up a couple growlers (nothing like looking like a drunken, homeless, dirty hitchhiker!). So about 15 minutes later, we see a small silver car pulling up, a man waving his finger at us. Paulo. WHAT ARE THE CHANCES? We hesitantly got in the car… beggars can’t be choosers after all. We tell him about our trip and he halfheartedly apologized for telling us how he thinks we should live our lives, and for not being able to drive us the WHOLE way to Seward. So another awkward hour of no music and no conversation later, he dropped us about 40 miles from town, where we shortly after got a ride the rest of the way in a comfy RV. What are the odds though? You see now why I am so obsessed with serendipity? I just cannot wrap my head around it sometimes!

So there it is - my exciting and rejuvenating adventure to Homer. Now back to one day off this week, and I am sure more to come. I like making money, but I like exploring too… it’s far too good for my soul to see new places and meet new people.

“…She doesn’t do so well at standing still. She plans big, she rolls up her sleeves, she has faith in her own momentum. She knows that change doesn’t happen all at once, but she welcomes it, she prepares for it, she gives it fertile ground…

…She needs no map to discover where she is going, or how to get there. Her map is written on her heart – its roads and rivers are her dreams, her strength, her confidence. The way is not always easy, but when she takes a moment to notice the scenery, she sees that it is always beautiful…

…She promises herself adventure, new places, different views, a chance to get lost. She infuses her day with newness and wonder. She brings a camera everywhere, notices the little things, gets a cup of coffee at a different café, takes the long way home. She discovers so much unexpected joy. She begins to love the journey…

…Who is she? She is a daughter. She is a best friend. She is a pocketful of light. She is a spark of something good, getting brighter; a dream grown large; the right thing at the right time. She is a dancer, a singer, a thinker, a truth-teller. A connoisseur of all things this wide world has to offer. Her spirit is the first thing people notice. Her mind always had a mind of its own. Her heart, though it has sometimes been hurt, bears a strong resemblance to a daffodil: it always flowers again. So she wakes with anticipation. She finds new hills to climb. And everyone agrees that the very fact of her in the world means there is still so much good to come. Who is she? She is me. She is you.”