In an effort to hold on to the experience, to the peace that I felt for a month while living in the mountains, I took a number of photos and videos. My intention was to create a blog post so that you could see and understand the mental state that I was in. The benefit that I found in being among nature. In retrospect, I think that I want to hold on to them for myself, to properly preserve them. I don’t think that I could even adequately put into words the spiritual calm that I felt and the pictures don’t do it justice. 3.5 weeks wasn’t enough, I needed to marinate a little longer.
I am “home” now. I feel like a lone, dry dandelion in a field. Like the Universe inhaled deeply and blew hard, dispersing my seeds. It’s so romantic, the idea that they’ll be perfectly placed where they can repopulate and thrive, but uncertainty butterflies have my stomach engorged. In a previous post, I mentioned trying to find a home. Nothing feels more absolute in this moment, upon my return, that this place I’ve called “home” for 25 years is not where I’m supposed to be. I feel no comfort or solace here. I associate the most trying times of my life with this humid plateau and consequently have trouble trying to get a good emotional footing. And the strife has recently been compounded. The “what now” has become a “where now?” and this journey is about to become more interesting.
I stood at the side of one of the many creeks in Banner Elk, North Carolina and watched as the water, undeterred by rocks and roots, continued along it’s way. I envied it’s determination and grace. Dandelions are asexual, their survival dependent on the elements. They, too, are inspiring. I’ve become stronger in my conviction to take care of myself while trying not to swim in a river of cynicism, but to be an ocean of relentlessness. I mentioned to someone recently, as a metaphor for life, that dandelions are pretty, but they are weeds, to not ignore what they are inherently. But I failed to point out that they are resilient, that they survive the conditions.
Have you ever seen how they dance in the sky when they are interrupted by the hands of man?