I keep wanting to write about my adventure across the country. It was truly epic. Receiving guidance at Indian mounds, surprising my aunt, cousins, and nieces and nephews with a visit, hot spring skinny-dipping in the Nevada desert, hitchhikers, new old friends, the law catching up with one of these said “new old friends”, star-splattered night skies, mushroom medicine, conversations with birds, painting the van, a shady hotel motel, and a burning altar/effigy made out of an old guitar, feathers, and a rack of deer antlers, just to give a small taste of what the last week has looked like.
Yes, I keep wanting to write about all that, but I am here now and all that is over and I really can’t seem to write about anything else than where I’m at now.
Right here and now, I am sitting in a public library in the Castro neighborhood of San Francisco. It is about 1pm and it is beautiful yet cold outside. I arrived here in SF two days ago with a 19 year-old boy from Missouri that was one of the slew of new friends and travelers I shared time and mileage with on my adventure westward. He was new to traveling and his buddy that was acting as somewhat of a guide for him was the one that got arrested in Colorado. They were heading to California. The universe is a funny place…we always get just what we need, and it almost never comes in the way or the form that we think it will or hope it will. For some time now, I have been expressing the opinion that I need people to travel with. Traveling solo has been wonderful and has taught me much but I am ready to not only be in community when I land somewhere, but also to travel in community again. Skye left at the end of June and I have felt over the lone wolf gig since.
I have many friends and tribespeople that I have met over the past two years that have expressed much interest in joining me and we have been simply “waiting for it to align.” So naturally I assumed that it would be one of these people to show up and answer my prayer. And then suddenly I am seemingly being asked by Life to step into the role of guide to this new and young traveler.
and thank you.
I certainly needed someone to show up and remind me that my experience is needed in the world just as much as he needed someone to show him the ropes.
Our stint together was less than a week. It was my job to get this kid to San Francisco, that much I knew. And I did, and while I offered him a place to crash if he ever needed it, I released him into the wilds of the Haight and it wasn’t long before he was retrieving his pack from the van to go make camp in Golden Gate Park with new friends.
And when I was finally alone, I was grateful for solitude and silence. I am grateful for the space that I have in the van to be able to share it. And I am grateful that after living in a city for 7 years that required me to fight for every inch of privacy and personal space I could get, I have recovered from the constant need for those things. AND, I am grateful for solitude when I am offered it, or when my heart decides I need it.
So although there are so many wonderful souls and tribespeople here in this lovely city from which I have been gone 7 months, I have not seen or reached out to any of them. I have meditated. I have prayed. I have read. I have walked. I have eaten. I have slept. I even found a labyrinth in a little park to walk. I have cried. I have laughed. I have doubted. I have trusted. And I have been given some new guidance and clarity for my vision. And it is for this such blessing that I give myself and my soul and my heart the gift of solitude. Because it hasn’t been a comfortable solitude. It has been ripe with spiritual struggle. It has been a while since I have been somewhere and not known why. My work has been clear in the last 3 or 4 destinations I have landed. And right now, it hasn’t been clear and calling everyone I knew here to reconnect appealed to me for more than just “because it would be great to see them.” It would have been a way for me to avoid the discomfort of the unknown.
So I gave myself solitude.
And out of the discomfort
Remembrance of vision
My work is to walk between worlds.
My work is to clear the way for water.
I have music and words and presence to offer at the banquet of abundance to which we are all invited.
And I am free.
ever so briefly
that the prison cell
has no door.
I am here
I am free
I have love
It is so enough
*a few pictures from said “epic adventure” enjoy! 🙂