"Roots hold me close; wings set me free;" - Spirit of Life, song #123
For far too long, I felt entrenched where I was. And then I took this trip. Far from feeling entrenched, now I feel completely uprooted and out in the atmosphere somewhere, really in need of grounding. Whenever that happens, I call my aunt, Lulu, who I have written about. Or I call or talk to, in person, other people who are rooted in reality, but not total killjoys. The last thing I need right now are people who outline all the things that could happen to me on this adventure, as though I had not thought them all through myself, umpteen times as I have driven west.
Sometimes, especially when I come over a hill like the one by my cousin's house, my stomach feels like it is in my throat, and a i get a huge surge of joy, as a new vista unfolds in front of me. I feel like i could take flight, and that is when i realize how scary a feeling it is. The exhilaration and the fear are all wrapped up into one bundle, and my job is to constantly talk myself out of the fear, so that i can feel the exhilaration.
But sometimes it almost feels like too much to bear. My heart feels like it is going to explode when I see another incredible mountain range, and I have been crying big, gloppy tears of joy for a lot of this ride. I am trying to build up my happiness and joy tolerance each day, and, more often than not, I am able handle a bit more each day, like the bright sun in the eyes of someone who has been in the dark for too long. emerging has to be gradual, or else i'll get the bends.
More often than not, I actually listen to the kind voices that fill my head and car lately. But every now and then, the peace and serenity bother me and i need to kill my own joy. So i conjure up the same self-sabotaging thought patterns that have held me in place for so long, and pick off all the emotional scabs.
The more practice i get, listening to the kind voices, the easier it gets to do so. Those are the voices that are going to get me safely through the switchbacks.