Today I had a mini solo road trip driving back from my Father-in-law's house 2 1/2 hours from my home. I haven't had that much time alone in the car for quite some time. Two dogs, great music, blue skies and green fields polka-dotted with hay bales. It was good for my soul and reminded me of a time in my life when that was the norm. Solo road trips crisscrossing across the country exploring the land. Checking out how it felt in different places.
When the Dixie Chicks started singing on the radio today I was transported back to being 19 driving the 400 miles home from West Virginia. It was one of my first trips I had made by myself and I had gone to visit my dear farmer friends Lee and Georgia who lived in the Blue Ridge Mountains. My aunt had introduced us a few years prior and my mom had taken us down a few times to visit. Their small mountain town captured my young heart. Friendly faces, a slower pace of life and days spent fully submerged in nature. Something changed in me during those visits and I made 2 or 3 by myself so I could explore that feeling even more.
Georgia taught me how to knead bread. Her gigantic garden was an invitation to my dreams and she showed me that artists can be farmers, yogis and exquisite thinkers. Her kitchen was welcoming and bright and I felt like I belonged there. She introduced me to her friend, Betsy, who lived alone well into her 80's and rode her horse in the hills everyday. Packing a peanut butter fold-over and a beer for lunch.
Lee taught me how to push cows, the joy of driving an old "farm use only" truck and the importance of tucking my long pants into my socks to deter pesky ticks from finding their way to my skin. He used words like "juxtaposition," made everyone feel instantly at ease in his presence and loved his boxer pup, Gus, more than life itself.
Together Lee and G opened up the idea that its ok to change course, follow your heart and create a unique life in harmony with your authentic self. They showed me that country living is for some of the most intelligent, kind-hearted, fascinating people I could ever know. We watched Netflix movies that arrived in the mail and had dance parties to Tom Petty's greatest hits, just the three of us. At night from the guest room I could hear their laughter as it filled the house and I was inspired to incorporate certain elements in my life after witnessing the beauty of theirs.
Today I remembered how I felt as a 19 year old returning home from the mountains. How desperately my heart did not want to leave. How resistant I felt knowing what was waiting for me back in Ann Arbor. A life of concrete, competitive studies, uncomfortable clothes and a boyfriend I loved but couldn't be myself with. There were no silly dance parties or deep soulful talks or howling laughter that could be heard from down the hall.
I was returning to a life with which I didn't resonate.
I cried the entire 9 hour drive home.
It took me a couple of years to get my feet under me. But by the time I was 21 I had graduated from college, made the painful decision to break up with my boyfriend, set myself free of the concrete life and made my way out to the mountains. I think this is what John Muir meant when he said "the mountains are calling and I must go." Once it awakens that magic in your heart there is no going back. Or if have to leave, you find yourself full of tears as you press the gas pedal and pull away. Counting the days until you can return.
It seems to me that life is a series of opportunities that invite us to remember our own soul. Little glimmers of the pieces that sing to us. As if we get to collect the pieces one by one to eventually create a life that feels like home. I picture myself walking along gathering the inspirations. A love story here, a pace of life there. Rainbow catchers in the window, the friendship of a good dog and the promise of a wonderful man. Mountains out the door, a counter full of colorful produce from the garden and music playing in the kitchen. The scent of fresh bread baking in the air. Kids jumping on the trampoline and long dangly vines adorning my four walls.
A collection of inspirations. Little pieces of our souls. So many ways we get to remember.
What pieces are you currently collecting?
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