I had a nice chat with a friend this morning. She said she worried about me being on the road. I thanked her, knowing that worrying was caring. I reassured her that I’m safe. I made a half-assed attempt at explaining why I felt so safe and comfortable out in the middle of nowhere, just me and my dog. I don’t think I did a good job. So here’s my attempt to explain better.
I was terrified most of the time for the first couple weeks after I started this journey. Driving up winding mountain roads in a 4 ton van scared the shit out of me. I’d drive off the beaten path and was so far from anyone I knew that all I could think of was that if anything happened, it would be hours if not days before anyone came to the rescue.
I’m not sure when the change came, but it did come. As I laid outside in the grass at a county park in Twin Falls, Idaho yesterday, I looked up at the sky and rubbed Cosmo’s belly. I realized I was totally calm. I felt completely relaxed, safe, cared for. I felt at home. I wondered when the change came. It felt like life had always been this way. I dug deeper. My GPS said I was 2042 miles from the last building I called home and equally as far from the friends I left behind. I’m heading west to California to see other friends that I left years ago when I moved to Delaware. I am about 700 miles from them. And yet, with only public grass and a dog and beautiful clouds rolling by, I felt so at home, so connected.
I’m not religious, so explaining this is difficult for me. While in Peru, my shaman often referred to Pacha Mama–mother earth. He’d have us take our shoes off and walk in the grass or stand on a rock that had been absorbing the sun’s energy all day long, and even as the air started to become cold, the sun’s warmth radiated up from the earth, and I could feel it being absorbed into the soles of my feet, and filling me to capacity.
I get that same feeling when I lie down on a patch of grass by a river, or sit on a rock up in the mountains. I feel connected. I feel engulfed in Pacha Mama’s warm, nourishing energy and I feel protected and safe.
In addition to all that, I’ve DIS-connected from many things that no longer serve me. I no longer have to go to work. I don’t pay mortgage or an electric bill. The state no longer gets money from me for the priviledge of owning a business or a home. I drive. I park. I get out and take in the world around me and know that this is now home. I feel safer and freer than I’ve ever felt before.
I suppose I could fall off a cliff, or a meteor could strike me in the middle of the night. If so, it’s OK. It will have happened while I was living my life to the fullest. Know that my last thought will have been “Damn I love this life I’m living.”