When You Get There, Will You Know?

"When you get there, will you know?"- Robert Plant "Come Into My Life"

This apropos song came up I as walked today. 

So what does success look like in this journey? I don't know. The losses are all still there. Walking or not walking won't change them. I already know that I'll meet or beat whatever standards I'll set for myself. If someone asked for two traits I value in myself, I would assuredly pick loyalty and endurance. Still, despite the fact that work is piling up at home, it feels good to be out and about.

Today, it was easier to be detached from the world. I checked my notebook and phone rarely. I certainly noticed my body more. Despite carrying a gallon of liquid out with me, the heat and wind forced a constant battle with dehydration. There was maybe a mile of my journey to day that had any significant amount of shade. There were no services of any kind again. When I finally ran out of fluid altogether, I sat down at the edge of the road and called for an extraction. No heroics, no agonizing over being a few miles short of the goal I had hoped for. I'm moving more slowly than I'd like, but much faster than I could have imagined given my complete lack of training for this particular walk. I'm even secretly pleased that my pale,out of shape winter body has responded as well as it has. The miles come hard. At times I am keenly aware of the blisters and aches and wonder if I am just punishing myself. At other times, the walk does what it was designed to do, be the vehicle of meditation. And of course, a get away vehicle. It's hard to be profoundly sad when all along your journey, tadpoles are flashing through the puddles and marsh just inches from your feet, birds are circling overhead, and the relentless sun has found the two places on my arms and the one place on my neck that I did not adequately cover with sun screen. I saw baby vultures. All manner of flowers and plants are emerging. The soft earth along the roadside is covered with footprints and scat. New life. Am I running from life out here or joining it? When I get there, will I know?

Free Fall

     So....five years have flown past. A lifetime happened in those five years and now I find myself standing in a place I had hoped to never see again. A place of needing rebirth and redirection. A place where the sense of loss in the face of so many gifts and so much grace is bewildering. The horror of discovering that all these things I thought I had coped with so well in this half decade weren't coped with at all. They were just sitting in a calcified cavern in my soul and when one of the walls was moved by the departure of my longtime boyfriend, the insides came spilling out. About a moth ago, I started crying and can't really stop. An ocean of tears flowing under the surface that I never saw until they started spilling. I've kept moving while they flowed, working on building the farm stand, cleaning out the old house so it can come down and make way for my Mom and Dad's place, starting the spring chores that lead to a successful farm summer.....I've made and kept dates with many of you, kept putting foot in front of the other. And they are good times, truly. I'm just in some weird place where the beauty around me ....can't be treasured like it should. Many of you have reached out and made super human efforts to support me and keep me moving during this time. I'd still be picking at pieces of the poison purple glass in the farmhouse if Maggie, Gavin, Larry, Jamie et all hadn't kept me moving. Thanks also to Diana, for getting me moving again in the studio. I deeply appreciate each of you. Again, the stark contrast of so much love and support in the face of my own desolation.
     This is a rough time of year for me anyway. The days are short, the nights are too long, there is much that needs done and I rarely feel like doing it. Again, I'm moving around. I've lost a few pounds. I try and swim or do something active a few times a week. I'm cooking nutritious food. I'm even cooking it in small batches so it doesn't spoil while I continue to gnaw on it. It is not enough to sustain me.
     The anniversaries roll around. Cancer. I'm still healing and rarely acknowledge it. My tongue still feels weird as nerves regrow. I continue to suffer from dry mouth, particularly at night. It causes much discomfort. Sensation is ever so slowly returning to my face. I get cold easier, and I still seem to need more sleep. Mazie's death; there is still one nose print on the inside of my car I can't bring myself to clear off.  Grandparent Birthdays and death dates. Another anniversary for David's death, my cousin's death, and so on. Memories from my married life in every inch of the old house. Ghosts. Ghosts that suddenly come into focus through the lens of tears.
     So even as I tumble through space, knowing that so many of my friends have been through so much and worse, and that I really have no right to be carrying on about my small sufferings, I know that I have to do something to right myself and get back on with things.
     I'm going to start walking again. It is my intention right now to leave Wednesday morning. I'm walking south from New Castle with no destination or timetable in mind. Maybe I'll only walk to the end of the block and feel better. I just don't know.
     I know a lot of you will be hurt and confused that I haven't reached out. I even have appointments with some of you. I'll need to reschedule. It's not personal, depression does that. Right now, the mean voices in my head that like to point out that I am a freak and have no hope of ever finding peace or love or comfort are running rough shod. In the rational world, I know it's not true. Then the ghosts get to rattling their chains reminding me that life and love are temporary and we're all gonna die and the tears start again. Walking has worked for me before. Because of my schedule, the time of year (read lambing), and my poor physical condition, I am going to start by day hiking and return home via car each night. I trained for 18 months last time to heft that 40 pound pack and carry it into the mountains and I'm certainly not in that kind of condition right now.
      No, I don't want to talk about it, so please don't rush to your cell phones. I will be limiting my exposure to internet and phone on the road, but I will check in. If you want to join me and walk a few miles, I'll entertain that. If you want to volunteer to pick me up or take me back out one morning, that would be cool too.
     Much love to all.