Journal entry: September 9th 2015
This is a perfect day, time lost from Eden, recaptured – 77 degrees with only a pinch of humidity as September summer dances in the courtship of crisp autumn serenade. The Carolina sun sets my heart on fire as I stare out into the fearless blue sky. The towering thick white cream puff clouds scale the heights of heaven; for a moment the world is at peace.
Saying a Hail Mary at the roses in fresh bloom, I thank God for the blessings of this life- so simple and dynamic is the sky that it can finally make your soul come alive!
Driving through Raleigh’s never ending traffic jams, after an eight day work-week, my vagabond soul is restless for an adventure. I am starving to run into the wildness of my heart and discover myself anew off the beaten path.
I have a rare set of days off to just enjoy life. While money is always a pressing concern, it took one shot of sunshine to decide to make my great escape.
My job is taxing, demanding and draining and I have hit my breaking point – it is rendezvous or bust. The prescription is to set my fear free and let go of the stress and anxiety left as residue from the daily maze of work: eat, sleep, work, work, eat, sleep, errands, repeat…
Life is not designed to be cloistered in the confines of exact routines– it is meant to be lived as a beautiful dance, even in the chaos of the world.
Okay that sounds a bit philosophically blasé, but every day I discover just how much a soul needs to have space – just to breath – not every heartbeat and breath needs to spend its time clock racing to keep up with false deadlines and self-imposed heartache. Sometimes it is okay to just be still, to look inward and let go of our expectations.
I am a general when it comes to beating myself up. I’m thirty-one years old and the plans I had perfectly in place for my life have been so contorted that I feel as though I don’t really know who I am anymore. I cannot stand my skin-the fact that every dream I have worked to accomplished has blown up and the wake of betrayal and pain has left me more than broken.
To many I’m a great optimist – I love life and seeing the beauty in the smallest of things – but inside I live in a fear – paralyzed by fear of failure – of being betrayed again and never have a safe home – a safe environment. I know a lot of this is just post-trauma from the past and I’m working through it…however I think in this tech-centered, non-people centered society so many are walking their own plank of broken dreams – unable to have the confidence to rise up from their secret fears and just leap forward in faith and hope.
What do I mean by secret fear? So often when we are faced with an adversity we leap into problem-solving and let the adrenaline guide us to keep living and bury the trauma – even in the grief process we hold back because we are always moving from one crisis to another deadline and expectation. In suppressing this fear we often think we are healed but instead of healing we build up barriers to doors worth unlocking…we ignore opportunities for growth and healing because we let the fear of failure, hurt, pain and the inability to reconcile our expectations with the real world scenario we have to navigate.
I get panicked by the timeline. I think of the clock on LOST – I’m afraid if I don’t accomplish certain goals within a certain window of opportunity – a nuclear meltdown will happen in my life…in the process I get overwhelmed and fail to accomplish one critical action because I get so paralyzed by a fear of failure, I realize how imperfect everything is – that instead of finding triumph in the process and let go of my perfectionistic expectations I just give up.
The problem is when we give up the oxygen that is part of our soul drivers (with me it is music and writing) we start to suffocate in our daily lives. Life needs a balance between work and our personal lives. If one is out of check we’ll falter.
Trusting the rhythm of my heartbeat I turned up the volume on the radio and let my intuition guide me.
‘Mom, let’s head for beach…’ My mom, my willing partner in crime in travel, was game for the challenge.
After looking at the North Carolina map, we decided to pack our bags and head for the North Carolina Outer Banks.
I have not been to the Outer Banks since my childhood. It is a place that is etched so perfectly and imperfectly into my memory – a safe haven and a wild adventure. My mom also has deep memories in the lore and wonder of NC’s last frontier…as a child she spent summers with her grandparents in rural Tyrrell County – two bridges over from Nags Head. Mom and I both yearned to go back to the simple lazy days of childhood summer, while also excavating the layers of our own brokenness to discover that the greatest jewels are sandcastles in the sun dance of a sunset as the tide ebbs and flows…the ever present changes amidst the ever-present constant foundation I find in Christ.
The spontaneity impulse initially incited me to drive off into the sunset with only a small suitcase saying goodbye Raleigh, hello world! In practical rendezvous rules, It took us took a few hours to do laundry, pack and run errands before stealing off into the night.
My mom scoped out Priceline and found an awesome rate for the Ramada Plaza, a beachfront family friendly resort hotel…hotel booked and we were on our way.
We left at 7 p.m. While it seems counter-intuitive to leave like a thief in the night, the truth is by tracing the stars on Highway 64 to the beach by moonlight – we would be able to wake up on the shore – able to sink are toes in the sand at dawn.
