Tears flow into a river of Strength

I had plans to travel to Colorado this weekend to visit my sister and attend a conducting symposium. As I was making preparations for the trip, I realized that my keys were gone. Poof.

Pretty hard to drive to Colorado with no keys.

I spent today completing the rest of my pre-trip tasks while clinging to a hope that I would actually be able to make the trip happen. I also knew I was shirking responsibilities at work, projects that really need to be finished before I left, but I just wanted to get on the road (I borrowed my roommate's car so I could even get to KC to finish a few things at work).

As I was driving back to Lawrence, I started weeping.

Weeping for the trip that was evaporating before my eyes, for not being able to see my sister, for not being able to see Eric Whitacre, for not being able to do something I felt I needed to do. Weeping to weep. To release.

The weeping continued when I got home. I didn't want to frantically rummage through my house, and I decided to go lie down and maybe something would come to me.

I drifted in and out of sleep for a couple hours (?) and happened to turn over on to my stomach...the keys were under my pillow. Not surprising considering I often throw my coat and keys on my bed, but the karmic toothfairy effect did not escape my attention.

By that time, it was almost 5 PM and I knew I wouldn't be able to drive the 9 hours to Colorado. I also knew that I would spend Friday at the Foundation, finishing what I knew needed attention. Danielle (my sister) and I decided that it wasn't worth it for me to drive up on Saturday, and that we would see each other in a few weeks at Paradise Lost in Chicago. Trip officially cancelled.

This experience feels a lot like about a month ago when I couldn't drive to South Dakota for Mr. Tessier's funeral (bad roads). Even though it wasn't really what I wanted, I felt guided in my exhaustion to where I needed to be. That's why crying can be so wonderful. It's easy to be guided once the tears have broken through the emotional shield. Much easier to be sensitive to the gentle way of Life.

And, much easier to tap the strength to begin again. Tonight I had gentle and quiet evening of organizing my musical ideas. Of revisiting and moving forward.

Since I wanted so much to travel today, this is the perfect quote for my restless spirit:

"People travel to wonder at the height of mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long courses of rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motion of the stars; and they pass by themselves without wondering." -St. Augustine

Let the wondering begin.

~megan