Road Trippery And Who I Am

There's nothing better than getting out of dodge. When I leave the city, a weight is lifted off my shoulders. It's like I'm returning to where I'm supposed to be. Like I'm dipping my toes into the waters of my future. Not long ago, I wrote a post about not being the one. It was featured on my friend Jane's blog and located here. The premise is how we struggle to find ourselves, but how people often end up loving us for someone we aren't, instead of the amazing creatures we are. I won't be recapping the blog here...because you have eyes and are perfectly capable of clicking the link and travelling over to take a look yourself.

Anyway, this last weekend, I took a day trip up into the mountains. It was random because of the circumstances and involved stranger danger, an adorable dog, a few awkward moments, bouncy boobs and pie. No, not any cake. I know! I feel like a traitor, but a chubby girl's gotta do what a chubby girl's gotta do. And pie was available. This does in no way diminish my love for the cake, though.

So, as we fled the city in a low riding car that was about an inch off the ground, all the more perfect for combat rolling out if need be, I got to thinking about what I wrote for Jane. The truth is, a lot of people don't know who they are. It's a life long goal to figure ourselves out. And, just when we think we know our ins and outs and ups and downs, just when we think we understand the fabric of our being, we change. Morph. Transition. And sometimes become entirely different people.

Here's the funny thing. The last ten years have been hugely pivotal for me, but essentially I've reverted back to my nineteen year old self. It's almost like I've come full circle. Except, I'm a better kisser now. And my sense of humour is far more mature. (I almost typed that with a straight face). Oh, and I pluck my eyebrows. Don't laugh. That's huge! People underestimate the difference a little plucking can make. It can turn two dead caterpillars into beautiful arches perfect for raising when you need to challenge someone, or mock a bit.

Before I deviate too far away from the point, let me steer us back on course. Unlike a lot of other people, I know who I am. I'm the girl who'll drive to someone's house to give them a hug. I'm the girl who'll come pick you up at two in the morning if you're drunk and stranded, or simply talk to you and not be angry about the late night phone call. I'm the girl who kisses dogs mouths, who stands stock still in the forest and digs her feet into the dirt in an effort to root herself to the earth. The overly candid, no strings on me, let's just love one another girl. And yet, the misanthropic, humans suck, let's run away into the mountains and live with the birds, bees and trees girl too.

Thankfully, I know who I am. It took awhile to get here. You see, I started searching at a very young age. It doesn't mean I don't get lost and it doesn't mean I'm not growing, changing, evolving into a new version of me. But I still know who I am. My core values are the same. The things that make me tick, that wind my clock, that keep me moving along remain set in stone. My moral compass may be a bit broken, but it still manages to guide me. And every so often, I get a flicker of the girl I'm going to be, when the healing is done, when I've grown up. (No, I'm not grown up yet.)

She exists in the future, but lives inside me and from time-to-time, I get to see her. And it's oddly invigorating. Her peace and gentleness is mind boggling. Her compassion dwarfs my frustration and hurt. I see her when I take off my shoes. When I skip through a meadow. When the dew from the grass kisses my legs and mud paints my feet. She appears when someone needs help, out of nowhere, like a vengeance, wielding understanding and empathy like razor-bladed swords. And I see her when I stroke a dog's ears or listen to the birds' morning chorus. She's here, inside me, but isn't fit to handle the day-to-day nonsense like jobs and bills and people pulling her in a million directions. So, she can't come out to play all the time.

But she's there and she's doing all those sexy things, like frolicking and singing and dancing. Don't get me wrong, it's not a physically sexy thing. Not at all. My frolicking is nearly as bad as my robot, but slightly better than my Christopher Walken impression. None of which can get anyone's motor going. But being out in the wild, smelling the trees and feeling the wind tousle my hair...that's sexy. It makes me feel all one with nature and Earth, like I'm going to sprout wings and soar through the limitless blue sky.

And on Sunday, the sky was blue. Much to my delight. And it reminded me of the path I've taken to get here and the girl I am at the centre of my being. The one sitting on the front porch, sipping tea, listening to the birds banter, and watching the sun set. She's my future. And she only waits for me.

It's hard not to let the daily grind wear us down. But if we keep our grasp on what is true and honest, if we remember what motivates us, what makes us beat, breathe, move and laugh, then we will find our way. Sure, we may not be the person we want to be today, but as long as we are working towards it, then it's okay. And it will always be okay.

Until then, random road trips into the mountains with cute boys will have to tide me over.