Picture above is one of the lonely lanes I wandered while in Cape Cod–it led down to a beach inlet where I enjoyed browsing the flats and snapping pictures.
I will admit that I wasn’t always entirely comfortable on my rambles. The lanes were often isolated and forested. I didn’t know what was lurking in the shade. I never saw other pedestrians and seldom any vehicles on the road. I was alone.
Some days I find that solitude brings a sense of confidence–I love doing things by myself and not having dependencies on others. But some days I crave knowing that others are close by. And today is one of those days. I’m feeling insecure and desire validation. Most likely this stems from a realization of how misunderstood my life is to others–especially those who don’t understand an intentional choice of small footprint living, who don’t understand that I am a gypsy at heart and I would far rather have experiences (or kittens) than fancy stuff. “Things” bring me very little joy. I am a person who likes to pack light and keep it simple. In addition, I don’t get much satisfaction from being so focused on the future that I can’t enjoy today. Thoughts of eternal consequences are so remote. Instead, I’m present in this very day and this very moment. I am as easily delighted by a spiderweb as by a sweet strawberry from my garden. And they are both the face of the divine to me.
So I’m in the process now, of making choices that may alienate me from friends who can’t understand my heart and my soul. Who don’t understand why my authenticity can be more important than my certainty. It’s hard for me to do this–I don’t like black and white choices. I’m more comfortable with zones of gray (and brown and vermilion and azure-blue). I want pictures and poetry and sunshine. I want the waves crashing so loudly around me that I can forget those who just don’t understand me anymore.
4 comments
Love of nature can be a form of carnal security. But I don't doubt your sincerity, and I wish I could find it as satisfying as you do.
It's why I think I am a transcendentalist at heart. :)
Oh Jana…you speak the words of my heart here, better than I could ever say them.
Sounds like personal evolution to me – which is the only way to truly be alive. Long ago we decided to give memories rather than things for gifts: hikes, camping trips, lessons in something-I've-always-wanted-to-learn. Never, ever regretted that and have never run out of room for more memories!