It was only about six years ago when I realized things didn’t have to be either/or. More specifically, two emotions could hold the same place in my body at the same time. At the time of this lesson, I wasn’t even sure if I was able to feel or recognize one emotion. As I learned to tune in, I realized my body had a lot to say if I would listen. I became like a detective picking up clues and hints to what I was feeling and what it meant. I was inquisitive and began asking questions.
Now, years later, I find myself on the biggest adventure of my life. I am three months into living on the road in my 17 foot travel trailer. I am currently 3,000 miles from home on the beach in Jacksonville, Florida. Every day I find myself conflicted with opposite emotions. This adventure is one of the biggest risks I have embarked upon in my whole life. Even three months later, I feel like I am in a dream. Even more so, it feels like my body is present, but it doesn’t feel real. Mixed with this is the fear and disbelief I am here.
I feel like my mind and body have not caught up with where I am on my journey. The beauty is I am taking a risk and putting myself out there even in the face of fear. When I allow these travels and beautiful moments to penetrate my fear, I am met with the most priceless gifts of nature.
Every single state I have visited has opened its arms like the bloom of a flower. Nature opening its petals one at a time letting me peek at the magic inside. It is my own private invitation where I am the guest of honor.
Early one morning, I happened upon dolphins swimming in a bay in Florida. Kayaking on a river in central Alabama I watched a heron hunting. She dove her head down deep and pulled out her hard earned prize: a fish that weighed several pounds. Her chest feathers glistened with beads of water and hung down like blue and white locks of hair. On the same river, I watched as hundreds of bait fish launched themselves out of the water creating ripples as they splashed back down like drops of rain. On the coast of Alabama, I went out walking hoping to find an alligator; I had never seen one in the wild in the light of day. I actually saw several. One smaller alligator was submerged in the creek with his eyes perched on the water’s surface. The next alligator I saw was on the bank across from me sunbathing on the mud. The third alligator I saw was a local celebrity, and her name was Lefty. I was also lucky enough to see of one of Lefty’s babies orbiting her like a planet around the sun. Every morning in Texas, I watched an egret walk like an Egyptian through the swampy water just yards from my trailer as she looked for breakfast. At night, the glowing eyes of an alligator stared from the banks keeping a watchful eye. I have seen sunsets all along the southern coast that rival the color of any crayon. I have seen the ocean from Texas, Alabama, Mississippi, and Florida. I have seen the Gulf of Mexico and the Atlantic Ocean. In Texas, the waves were warm and inviting. In Alabama, the sand was fine and white and as the sun set the beach glowed pink. In Mississippi the water was as calm as a lake on a windless day. In Florida, the Atlantic Ocean waves have been cold, white, and mushy.
I find myself in awe. It seems unbelievable and unreal. Is this really happening? Am I on this beautiful adventure? Have I really left my home and sold all my belongings to be on this adventure? This adventure which has no plan? This adventure which has no set end? This adventure that has been throwing gifts at my feet every single day. All the while, I am still scared shitless. I am stunned in awe and frozen in fear. At any moment, one thing could go wrong, and some things have gone wrong. At any moment, everything can feel just right.
Then I remember back to six years ago. I remember how I wasn’t sure how to feel. I was out of touch with my body and emotions. It was like I was blocking out all the pain and beauty in my life. I filtered my experiences. I tried blocking out the realization that both my parents were dying of cancer. I blocked out the pain of being in a relationship where I wasn’t a priority. There is no way to just block out pain though. I blocked out beauty and joy too. I could never fully be present in a moment that just seemed perfect. I blocked out the love of my friends who supported me. I was always protecting myself from taking in too many emotions. Then, I started to learn to connect with the messages I was receiving from my own body; I stopped trying to protect myself.
I began to reconnect with joy, anger, pain, happiness, bliss, excitement, sadness, loneliness, pride, and every other emotion I tried to temper in the past. When I started to open myself up to all the emotions, I began having opposing emotions at the same time. I felt gratitude and sadness when I lost my mom. I was so grateful she found sobriety, and we reconnected at a deep level, but I was overcome with sadness that we didn’t get more time together. I felt relief and sadness when I left a man who I was living with who didn’t treat me with respect. I felt happiness and gratitude for the love and support of my friends, but I felt loneliness like a shadow lurking.
Now, I am in this present moment. I am experiencing one of the most beautiful, adventurous, and scariest moments of my life: an experience that can go so right or so wrong at any moment. I don’t want to dilute my experiences. I don’t want to filter my experiences through the lens of protection. I want to feel every single second on this journey. I want to be present: body, mind and soul in every moment. Fear is a natural response, and it can keep us safe from danger. However, I want to continue to fight against the fear that tries to protect me from the beauty, and pain, of all I can experience and learn on this unknown journey.