Photo by Author at Marble Canyon, Arizona
Be forewarned. When a writer goes on a mythic journey, no one can stop them from blabbing a mile a minute with superlatives.
A bestie and I drove 5500 miles, weaving in and out of ten states over thirteen days. No one was killed. Not even the skunk, prairie dog and butterfly who tried to commit suicide using the wheels of my car. I don’t include bugs in this equation since they have a short lifespan that mainly involves chowing on the leavings of animals and the body parts they filch from that spot a tail can’t swat.
The bestie (who shall remain nameless in case the stories I tell make her so famous and sought after she'll only have time for a vacation with me if I book ten years in advance), is Australian. Everyone should have a friend who grew up in Australia. They are fun, saucy, hysterical, raunchy, and can dream up bigger and badder ideas than I can and I'm the ground water for the big, bad, and the epic.
Road Trip 2017 was a hilarious, madcap, old chicks remembering being young chicks event and it included the intentional healing of ancient pain. Ancient is a good word to use when memories sidle alongside dust bunnies and the name of that teacher in sixth grade who was a hippie and the girlfriend of the class co-teacher (that last bit might be the wild fantasy of a hopeful little girl and it stuck).
Ancient pain is worth revisiting if it involves healing. For the first time, I’m able to state that without my middle finger in the air.
Perhaps this change was brought about by endless sandwiches, a crow posse, arrow symbolism, meeting Destiny, tailgating in a Days Inn parking lot, “yoga” in the lukewarm hot springs, angel encounters, wetting my pants giggle marathons, wide open destiny is dignity, a tattoo (did I mention Aussie’s have a penchant for epic?), run Forest run, Moab has no guarantees unless you need to cancel a reservation, a man loves his horse, cowboys(!), wild ponies, feathers, hiking the narrows, canyon wall paintings, drumming, full Circleville, Robert Redford’s very good massage, sleepovers, letting go of the pain stick, rainbows, saying goodbye to ghosts, butterflies, Bonneville County, a giant bear dressed like a fourth of July parade, that weird moment in a truck stop bathroom, and at the top of the world there’s a medicine wheel and when a breeze blows through the heart of a mountain it's a magnificent thing.
As the wind from yesterday unfurls behind, the memories of the spiritual odyssey my Aussie friend and I engaged in will entwine with the roots I always carry with me, nourishing the process of living and healing. And if laughter cures all ills, she and I will arrive safely at death's door decades in the future and will only cease breathing because we decide a new adventure on the other side seems like a journey we're ready to embark upon.
May your own journey be filled with laughter, the healing of ancient pain, and may a beautiful Aussie with a smile that can melt glaciers come along for the ride.
A bestie and I drove 5500 miles, weaving in and out of ten states over thirteen days. No one was killed. Not even the skunk, prairie dog and butterfly who tried to commit suicide using the wheels of my car. I don’t include bugs in this equation since they have a short lifespan that mainly involves chowing on the leavings of animals and the body parts they filch from that spot a tail can’t swat.
The bestie (who shall remain nameless in case the stories I tell make her so famous and sought after she'll only have time for a vacation with me if I book ten years in advance), is Australian. Everyone should have a friend who grew up in Australia. They are fun, saucy, hysterical, raunchy, and can dream up bigger and badder ideas than I can and I'm the ground water for the big, bad, and the epic.
Road Trip 2017 was a hilarious, madcap, old chicks remembering being young chicks event and it included the intentional healing of ancient pain. Ancient is a good word to use when memories sidle alongside dust bunnies and the name of that teacher in sixth grade who was a hippie and the girlfriend of the class co-teacher (that last bit might be the wild fantasy of a hopeful little girl and it stuck).
Ancient pain is worth revisiting if it involves healing. For the first time, I’m able to state that without my middle finger in the air.
Perhaps this change was brought about by endless sandwiches, a crow posse, arrow symbolism, meeting Destiny, tailgating in a Days Inn parking lot, “yoga” in the lukewarm hot springs, angel encounters, wetting my pants giggle marathons, wide open destiny is dignity, a tattoo (did I mention Aussie’s have a penchant for epic?), run Forest run, Moab has no guarantees unless you need to cancel a reservation, a man loves his horse, cowboys(!), wild ponies, feathers, hiking the narrows, canyon wall paintings, drumming, full Circleville, Robert Redford’s very good massage, sleepovers, letting go of the pain stick, rainbows, saying goodbye to ghosts, butterflies, Bonneville County, a giant bear dressed like a fourth of July parade, that weird moment in a truck stop bathroom, and at the top of the world there’s a medicine wheel and when a breeze blows through the heart of a mountain it's a magnificent thing.
As the wind from yesterday unfurls behind, the memories of the spiritual odyssey my Aussie friend and I engaged in will entwine with the roots I always carry with me, nourishing the process of living and healing. And if laughter cures all ills, she and I will arrive safely at death's door decades in the future and will only cease breathing because we decide a new adventure on the other side seems like a journey we're ready to embark upon.
May your own journey be filled with laughter, the healing of ancient pain, and may a beautiful Aussie with a smile that can melt glaciers come along for the ride.
