here we are, on a journey. at first i thought it would simply be a rollee home trip, a long drive to there and back, but i am finding that this is a longhaul search for what pleases my soul. i have been reading “the body keeps the score” (as time allows) and i am realizing PTSD has been a barometer for my reactions for way too fucking long. and then, position two of us in the same vehicle, two of us who wrangle the demons of trauma, and our hackles raise a bit too often. words spoken in the heat of anger chip away at the core of my being.
one thing i have learned from reading is that it is important (and healing) to feel what one feels and know what one knows, that one can be fully in charge of their life only if reality of one’s body is acknowledged in all its visceral dimensions.
so i come to this, to these things i know about myself. spirituality matters. so does art. love matters. and support. and understanding. and the unconditional love my animals provide. and deep friendship with a handful of people who get me.
yesterday, on a whim and because rollee needed new tires, we hit missoula. i reached out to an online acquaintance and let him know i was in his city. we met up in the evening. conversation flowed easy. i gifted him a watercolour of a raven feather. and he blessed me with a braid of métis sweetgrass, apologizing that it was not as special as the watercolour. little did he know, the sweetgrass was exactly what my soul needed. my heart became full again. an acquaintance became a friend.
evening found me and mister jones wandering the gardens of one thousand buddhas. i could sense that something was feeding us, something was filling us up and answering unspoken questions deep within us. we talked later about our favourite parts of being at the gardens.
when i arrive home there will be much body and soul work awaiting me. for now, the physical road journey is not even half completed. we will grow closer and love harder as the miles pile upon us.
it’s a good life.