She is curious and always jumps on opportunities to explore to learn more. She goes to Japan, to Hawaii, to Utah, to California, to New Jersey, and to anywhere she feels called to be whether it is to fulfill her family engagements or to purely satisfy her desire to learn more. She is a doctor and has a lawyer husband and they have the luxury of choosing where they want to go next. Even though they have four young children, somehow they still have energy to dream up their next journey. Her enthusiasm inspires me. Her curiosity is so foreign. I did not realize how little desire I have for travelling until I encountered her travelling life style. I choose my next destination in order to unlearn everything I have learned since my last trip.
I am all about unlearning and unloading. This emptying is a long journey. I peel away one layer after another but every time I do, yet another layer descends encasing me all over again. I reach for the openness, I strive for the light and more visibility, but somehow, things happen that trap me right back in the dark. And I have to fight my way just to catch a breath. It’s so suffocating in here.
So I just dream a small, raggedy home in the country. I wish for a short walk to the trail. On a lucky day, I drive to a near by vineyard to soak in the sun and the open air. Mountains and beaches are too far away and I neither have money nor time to achieve those goals. A Mountain top stay or a beach getaway would be my highest ideal at the moment but it won’t satisfy me. I am saving all my resources to find myself a permanent resolution. A forever home. And in a way, I am there already, because that’s where my mind resides. My heart yearns for that home in heaven and it brings me so much comfort.
I sit here again this morning with some heaviness in my heart wondering where I could visit to unload this… feeling. It’s nameless and faceless but it has such clear presence. More clearer than any persons I meet during the day. It’s there. Right. There. How can you miss it? How? How do you go on ignoring that presence when it’s right there in the central core of your soul? Doesn’t it weigh you down? Doesn’t it pull you down to the bottom of the ocean making you fear for your survival? And how can you swallow up that big, giant knot in your throat? It just swells up to this huge tsunami level and pours out through your eyes for the world to see its spill. How do you resist the tears from flowing? How do you control when the feeling is so… magnificent?
By swallowing anti-depressant, you might say.
By gulping down a glass of wine or beer.
By dancing away the darkness pretending a fake smile.
By mingling with strangers that offer instant high drives of energy.
By filling your life with meaningless relationships that falter over time.
I’ve been there. I’ve done all of that above and more. And I learned one thing. That those are not real. These fixes won’t last. They wither your energy and waste your time. Like a bartender filling up glasses all night, I’ve tried to drink up my sorrow and refill it with yet another mix of my pathetic emotions. It was depleting. It was defeating to my soul.
So now I am all about emptying, unlearning, and unloading:
By staring at a blank white wall enjoying its comforting and relaxing super power.
By minimizing human interactions and spending as much time as I need in my contemplative plane.
By visiting a big open sky. The list of my healing places are: local wineries as they are located on the hill tops. local parks, trails, etc. Or if I really do not have any access to these places, then my top floor of my town house. There I can open my windows that reveal the overview of the wide open sky.
By sitting down with a Bible to trace the Word with my tired eyes waiting for the healing miracle.
I don’t know about you, but these are my coping strategies that work for me. They work for my pocket as well since most of these activities won’t cost you any dime. I’ve always prided myself to be a cheep date but I can also be a cheep patient!
The point is that the most enjoyable things in life are the simplest things. It’s often the things that does not cost you any money. And the most therapeutic things in life are also the simplest things. A walk in the woods, taking in fresh air up on the hill of your local winery, petting a goat, or staring at the blank white wall in your own home. Default everything. And unload anything. Empty out and begin anew. Live each day like it is the first day of your journey. Then before you know it, you would be walking into the gate that leads you home.