“The thing is, I forgot that the act of writing is clarifying. The activity of it, the gesture of it, enlightens. It’s like rooting around in the dirt and coming up with two grubby fistfuls of quite a lot of truth. Some of it expected and some of it not. And a little dirt under the fingernails can be a very good thing.” (megfee)
that pretty much sums it up. these past weeks have been full of travel – ny:ct:mo:ks. several planes, subways, taxis, cars, long drives and more to come. i’m back in colorado for two days and then off to austin for work. today i found myself with a cold, laying under a wool blanket, coffee and kleenex in hand, episode after episode of “call the midwife,” decompressing.
travel, like writing, is therapeutic, a reminder that the world is bigger than me and what i daily see. travel allows for a larger worldview, an opportunity to not just listen to, but hear people whose experiences are not my own, who view the world differently. i desperately need that. over the past few weeks of traveling, i have realized that after moving back to the states two years ago, i am still in transition. that was such a disheartening revelation, but at the same time, freeing. i can give myself a little more grace than feels necessary. so, if i want a good cry, look out world! if i feel like eating an entire loaf of bread or a taking a long walk in the woods, so be it. grace is goodness to ourselves and those around us, especially when we think we are undeserving.
there’s been a lot of dirt under the fingernails these past weeks with surely more to come. and that is a good thing because it means i’m not a stagnant being. i may not be where i want to be (metaphysically speaking) but as always, there is hope.