Don't you just want to go, on some days deep in the heart of Winter, on a road trip, destin- ation unknown? There are many people I know who have the wanderlust spirit, taking trips here and there...mostly organized trips, over the Winter months. Cabin fever averted.
But I'm a homebody...one who usually finds comfort and peace in the rooms of my house. Long months away from where I am at my most tranquil would be difficult.
Every once in awhile, however, on the spur of the moment, I want to do what a hairdresser pal of mine once referred to as Road Anarchy. As he cut my hair, we discussed trips and vacations. I mentioned one of my favourite things to do is to leave everything behind, and drive where I am guided, or where the whim of the moment leads. Ungoverned and unfettered.
To turn left, off the beaten path...or right. To take a bumpy road, perhaps, one that doesn't look as if anyone has used it for a long time. Maybe, just over that steep, deeply runnelled hill that lies at the end of this road, there is a Stream that burbles over sunlit Pebbles.
And perhaps, there will be a large sun-kissed Boulder that cools his bottom in the singing Stream. I will sit, letting Bird Song rise and fall into my consciousness; letting the words from Wind filter in and out...
And I will listen to the stories from the Trees that cluster here, on the side of this Singing Stream. Stories of long ago, when they were seedlings...of awe and humbleness and gratefulness for each and every drop of Rain and shaft of Sunlight. Stories of wisdom and peace and stillness, when Winter Snow leaves a hush over the land.
If I am fortunate, I will meet wildlife I haven't met before and exchange greetings. Perhaps Deer or Grandfather Bear may meander to the Stream for a drink, and our eyes will meet, recognizing in the other a kindred soul.
Or Eagle may grace me with his presence, sending his message from Spirit. He will ride the Wind flow for long, long moments, dipping and balancing. I feel his eyes, keen as the point on a blade, search for mine, as he soars...at one with the silent currents of Air.
And after awhile of sitting on that Rock, I will become as One with all the elements that surround me...silent and still, but with so much to say...
I might wonder, at some point, where I am. But this is the beauty of taking a road trip of unknown destinations. It doesn't matter where I am, I just am.
And when I return, for I shall always return to the Home of my Heart...back down that previously unknown road, back the way I came...I will remember the stories I heard, the messages given to me, and the sorrows I gave to the Stream, who kindly washed them clean.
And I will remember how, for an afternoon, I became a peaceful road warrior, one who practiced anarchy, left sorrow behind and found beautiful, pacific moments... in the arms of Mother Nature.
Even if the anarchy only happened in my imagination.