On The Road As A Woman

Three hours went by and still
he consumed the floor with his breath.
I waited.
Mostly in disbelief.
I should have left, but I sat there.
He just kept going.
A first and definitely last date.
While he attempted to impress me by laughing over his 5 arrests and kissing skills,
I drifted.
This really was what he though a woman wants.
No voice
and to be swayed by violence.
Arrest record, wow tell me more!
He self-disclosed his love of violence and assured me I was protected with him near.
This date did not end well.

So I am planning a road trip up the Pacific Coast Highway with me, myself and I.
Now most reactions I get from people are supportive (thanks ya'll!!!!), but others have displayed immediate concern.
My mother's blood pressure spikes when I bring it up, I swear.
#3 on my packing list is pepper spray and that just hurts my soul.
While I love my mother dearly, her reaction to this trip has created fear within me.
I plan on camping, hiking and mainly exploring life away from cities. While this inherently comes with dangers, I can't continue to live my life in constant fear, what ifs and assuming everyone is out to get me.
I say "Howdy" to every person I pass on Flagstaff/Sedona trails.
This gesture is automatic and one I welcome.
While my mother wants to protect me, I can't stay inside all day.
To feel the Earth in new areas, to set up my tent each night and to breath in new forests gives me life.
As a woman I've been taught too many things I vocally am against. Too many things I should/shouldn't be doing. Too many things created to make me feel small.
So for a man to take up 3 hours of my life without backing down to hear me, and for that same man to assume I need and want his protection, and for people I love to try to push me back into 4 walls and initiate fear in me in doing something independently and for myself....well, it just isn't okay.
To feel the trees and hear the river
to listen to nothing while in the woods of the Pacific.
To sing my heart out on the open road.
I am counting the days.
The fear is subsiding. And since I have been conditioned to constantly fear others and feel the need to protect myself, I will do so. However, my heart breaks knowing when I approach a stranger my first reaction is protection, opposed to being welcoming.

"I'm a grown woman. I can do whatever I want."

-Beyonce

Airport Contemplations

The older I become the more I long for the trees.

For refuge.

For the stars.

For seclusion.

Noise and chaos are constant and my head aches from the influx of stimulation. My shoulders cringe from the consistent loud clangs I'm supposed to be accustomed to.

I used to fear the isolation. 

Fear the length of time between connection.

Now, when the buzzing arrives I feel an auto-shock of disdain flow within me.

I long for the noise to cease, or at least to let me breathe for a second. The phone, television and voices make me question how much of our lives are wasting away. 

These are not true connections. These are distractions and I feel my ability to speak is withering.

Since beginning this free write at the airport all of three minutes ago I've received 8 Snapchats, 2 Twitter notifications and the complaining of a person unhappy about their flight into Dallas. I see saddened faces and annoyed expressions. The only smile exists on the lips of a girl, maybe 1 years old, who is crawling and watching people. 

She still see the good.

I still see the good but fear it may disband one day. 

The smile I share gets more odd looks than welcomed ones. Gets more people thinking I am flirting than just being nice.

I wonder how few people sit in the silence.

It’s a scary thing.

Unmoving silence without thinking it is silly or pointless.

Giving yourself over to it.

Giving yourself space to breathe, reflect and recognize the good.

To feel and admit it.

To be vulnerable and gaze within.

I discussed the terrifying ways we as humans have destroyed so much of our world with a cab driver today. He and I shared a moment together where we grew sad witnessing the bystander effect.

His daughter needed help and onlookers turned away, focusing on themselves. Not wanting to be involved. His neighbor of 23 years never says hello. He asked why it was this way in America and I admitted I had no idea.

It reminded me of Ubuntu: I am because we are.

He hugged me when he dropped me off.

The phone continues to scream at me. How long can I leave it for? A new ache arrives as I grow insecure in not knowing its content. My head hurts at the notion of not responding.

The trees, remember the way they feel.

The beautiful whistle of their leaves.

The smell of pitch oozing from the bark.

The strength  they give me.

Give us.

To have a whisper of time here is overwhelming. To seclude or to run for the crowd.

To live with what is left of those trees.

My dog, Chunk, reminds me to never let go of that innate love to spread love.

“Spread love wherever you go. Let no one leave you without leaving happier”

- Mother Teresa

While this life’s pursuit sometimes weirds people out (I’ve been told my positivity is unprofessional and un-American) it just is.

Happy Chunk has a brother, Gizmo, who doesn’t always play nicely (though I love him just as much!). Despite this Chunk still loves him unconditionally and wiggles his way around the house filled with joy and love. He shares his love when he senses you are down.

Humans can learn great things from animal life. While we may be at the top of the food chain, we know so little about what matters: happiness, love and life.

These frowns and “why me” and unwillingness to slow down, they are hurting us.

I don’t know what success looks like. Perhaps it is in the small things: hugs, thank yous, not looking at your phone while in conversation, making someone a cupcake.

Whatever it is I hope my mini contributions make an impact.

And when I smell the trees and look up at the stars, I hope others will do the same.