Seeing through new eyes

#75 - Returning home for the first time in 3 years

“If you think you’re enlightened, go spend a week with your family.”
—Ram Dass

Last winter was educational, to say the least. Vermillion roads were buried under a foot of ice—our sidewalks entrenched by tall snow banks for nearly 6 months.

Juice and I walked our crampon miles each day, bundled up to avoid being bitten by the ferocious wind. And we'd strip our layers off upon returning home, to warm up by the blowing heater.

We did this for months longer than what felt natural, and after a while, the cold got under my skin. I kept thinking, "it won't give us a break. I'm pretty sure, we're not supposed to be under a sheet of ice for 6 months out of the year."

After a few brutal months, back in February, I decided I should give myself something to look forward to, to re-focus my emotions.

I hadn't slept a night in my parents house in California since 2019, and I wanted a chance to spend quality time with my family and hometown friends, after moving nearly 2,000 miles away from them.

And when I floated the idea by my Dad, he asked what took me so long to plan the trip in the first place.

"Yes. Come stay at the house. Just let us know the dates."

"I'll be there in June. Thanks, Dad. I need this."

Re-Focusing

Winter got her final licks in, but with my trip to the Evergreen Land of California on the horizon, I finally had a tangible goal to focus my energy on.

I remember an icy morning walk with Juice in late February where I observed myself writhing in the cold wind, lamenting my situation. And in that moment, I laughed out loud when I realized how much emotional bandwidth I had been spending on something which was out of my hands.

“You chose this, dude”, I told myself. “You chose to live here. So enjoy it for what it is.”

Giggling at the sky, I released my grasp of the jagged idea I’d been clutching too long.

"If you want to be cold, then be cold. Just let it be Winter forever, for all I care! I'm not going to worry about it anymore, because in a couple months it'll be so sticky, I'll be looking forward to this again."

Winter's teeth dragged duller across my frozen skin after that realization, no longer drawing blood. I made my peace with her, and was gifted a new perspective.

And true to her word, in April, she took her foot off the throttle, and the ice finally thawed.

Dandelions shot toward the Sun as the grass turned green. Stalks of rhubarb sprung in my back yard, and somehow survived the spring trample of Juice and his friends.

And all the while, the time to hit the road drew closer, enlivening my Spirit in a way I hadn’t felt since my last adventure. It felt like forever since I last thrust myself into the unknown.

With 2,000 miles to cover, no lodging reservations, and my road dog riding shotgun, I again asked the road to deliver us. And I placed my trust in her hands.

"We're going home, Juice. And we’re going to camp our way there, buddy."

Seeing through new eyes

It's hard to describe the feeling of returning home for the first time in three years. Especially after previously believing I’d never be allowed back.

I'm witnessing my self in a new light, after again dying in the mountains in order to get here. But we'll tell that story in the coming weeks, when I return to my studio. And trust me, your jaw will hit the floor.

But as I sit in our home kitchen after a week of being here, I am left in a state of awe. I've witnessed the synchronous perfection of the Divine Mind in a way words don’t have the power to articulate.

And each knowing tear welling in my eyes encapsulates my living gratitude for this new perspective. I needed this experience in ways I did not understand until I arrived.

So I breathe each present moment in the awareness these are the times I will cherish when the inevitable ultimately happens.

These memories we've created together will carry me forward when my parents are no longer here to catch me when I fall.

These people who raised me did an incredible job, whether they fully believe that fact or not. And I wouldn't change a single one of the tough times which came before now, because they built the house we share in gratitude today.

I have so much more to say about what I've learned during this trip, but at the moment of this writing, I'm only 9 days in. And there's a lot left to live before I return to my chosen home.

Thank you for taking this ride with me. And for reading T.H.E. every Wednesday. For now I'm going to be present, and savor this time I gifted to myself.

And next week, I'll report in with another update from the road.

Be well, my dear friends.