Roots, paths, and imagination
Looking back, I seem to always be the person that gets left behind as friends and loved ones move on in their lives. I can’t help but wonder why ‘moving on’ in my life seems to be always done from one place, and I am always left saying goodbye.
I am sure that this has given me a more empathic nature. It is easier to sympathize with another’s suffering if you have been through suffering yourself. It might have helped my writing, I am not sure since I haven’t written a piece of fiction in months, but I think it probably has. That pain in me is still too tender to touch, too delicate to bring out into the sun and bare it for dissection, but I am sure that the heartbreak I went through last fall will eventually make a good point to write from.
My imagination might be stronger, I think that it is like a muscle, the more you use it, the stronger it becomes. I am very good at imagining. I can picture in my head, the sights, sounds, smells and textures of a five-star hotel, or the rocks and flowers on a mountain trail. I may never be there in real life, but I have been in my dreams.
When I dream at night, and I almost always do, my dreams are like movies. The sights, sounds and smells are so real; it is like being there. Most of my dreams don’t seem to include me, or I am not myself in them. Half the time there is no one in the dream that I know, it is like I am living someone else’s life. Does that mean I don’t like my own life? Or does it simply mean my imagination is working overtime?
I may be more stable, with solid roots. Or maybe I am just root bound? I suppose you can have roots and still spend half your life in other places, but I think strong roots are not ones that are stretched thin, undernourished, and infrequently watered. Or maybe stretching them makes them stronger?
One thing I have figured out, is that nourishing your roots takes contact with other people, caring about others, taking the time to get to know other people, if only for a few moments in the grocery checkout line. I used to love working at the store, and stopping to hear a story from a traveler, a person I would probably never see again, but I got glimpses into their lives that were very important for them to tell, and important for me to hear.
Nourishing your roots also takes a connection with something bigger than yourself. Mind, Body and Spirit are three equal parts of any content human. No matter how some may try to fight it, we are spiritual beings, and no matter what spiritual path you choose, you can’t deny that side of you all together. There will always be something missing.
I know that the road of life has many turns and twists, and you can never really see too far in advance, but I really don’t see myself living anywhere else. The traveling I dreamed of in high school was nixed when I said ‘I do’ at 18. Getting married sent me down a different path. I just have to find the good things on this path, and not worry about the “could have beens”.
Right now, I am missing the contact with other people that I had when I was working. Some day I hope to get back to that.
That was the thing I loved the most about working in a convenience store. Hearing those stories. From the surprised look on a veteran’s face when I thanked him for his service, to the grateful look on the young single mother’s face when I, a complete stranger, pitched in for her gas so she could make it home. The shook-up New York City couple that pulled in after having just hit a deer on the highway… The truck drivers who like to have a connection, someone who knows them, out on the road. One of these days, if it is meant to be, I am sure I will get back to that place.
Maybe my purpose wasn’t to travel, but to be a comfort to those who do travel. Guess I won’t really know the answer until it’s all over, will I?
I am sure that this has given me a more empathic nature. It is easier to sympathize with another’s suffering if you have been through suffering yourself. It might have helped my writing, I am not sure since I haven’t written a piece of fiction in months, but I think it probably has. That pain in me is still too tender to touch, too delicate to bring out into the sun and bare it for dissection, but I am sure that the heartbreak I went through last fall will eventually make a good point to write from.
My imagination might be stronger, I think that it is like a muscle, the more you use it, the stronger it becomes. I am very good at imagining. I can picture in my head, the sights, sounds, smells and textures of a five-star hotel, or the rocks and flowers on a mountain trail. I may never be there in real life, but I have been in my dreams.
When I dream at night, and I almost always do, my dreams are like movies. The sights, sounds and smells are so real; it is like being there. Most of my dreams don’t seem to include me, or I am not myself in them. Half the time there is no one in the dream that I know, it is like I am living someone else’s life. Does that mean I don’t like my own life? Or does it simply mean my imagination is working overtime?
I may be more stable, with solid roots. Or maybe I am just root bound? I suppose you can have roots and still spend half your life in other places, but I think strong roots are not ones that are stretched thin, undernourished, and infrequently watered. Or maybe stretching them makes them stronger?
One thing I have figured out, is that nourishing your roots takes contact with other people, caring about others, taking the time to get to know other people, if only for a few moments in the grocery checkout line. I used to love working at the store, and stopping to hear a story from a traveler, a person I would probably never see again, but I got glimpses into their lives that were very important for them to tell, and important for me to hear.
Nourishing your roots also takes a connection with something bigger than yourself. Mind, Body and Spirit are three equal parts of any content human. No matter how some may try to fight it, we are spiritual beings, and no matter what spiritual path you choose, you can’t deny that side of you all together. There will always be something missing.
I know that the road of life has many turns and twists, and you can never really see too far in advance, but I really don’t see myself living anywhere else. The traveling I dreamed of in high school was nixed when I said ‘I do’ at 18. Getting married sent me down a different path. I just have to find the good things on this path, and not worry about the “could have beens”.
Right now, I am missing the contact with other people that I had when I was working. Some day I hope to get back to that.
That was the thing I loved the most about working in a convenience store. Hearing those stories. From the surprised look on a veteran’s face when I thanked him for his service, to the grateful look on the young single mother’s face when I, a complete stranger, pitched in for her gas so she could make it home. The shook-up New York City couple that pulled in after having just hit a deer on the highway… The truck drivers who like to have a connection, someone who knows them, out on the road. One of these days, if it is meant to be, I am sure I will get back to that place.
Maybe my purpose wasn’t to travel, but to be a comfort to those who do travel. Guess I won’t really know the answer until it’s all over, will I?
posted by Amethyst Rising at 1:12 PM
6 Comments:
Best thing to do is go to work in a truck stop. I know it sounds horribly rednekkid of me to say that, but here is my reason:
A truck stop is like an airport. Never in humanity's existence has there been so much energy flow in one place as an airport or a truck stop. Why? Because millions of people choose to make that one place, that one point on this Earth their place to rest, even for a few minutes. The polarity of the energy does not matter, but the energy itself being a "crossroads" so to speak, a place to settle for a meal or to buy gas or to phone loved ones at home. This is the place that people stop to gather their strength, to eat a much needed hot meal. It is here, that someone with positive energy can really affect these lonely travelers. Like a beacon of light on a rocky landscape of darkness, you could have the effect on those travelers, while pouring them another mug of hot coffee or something else like that, that could give them the energy they need to press on. Who knows what stories you'll hear in a place like that! You would certainly be someone they could remember, a gentle hero in their thoughts.
That is pretty much what our convenience store is like, since there isn't another stop at night going west for 100 miles.
I did work at a small truck stop once, about 15(!) years ago... I really like that sort of work, I just can't seem to find a good company to work for that I can trust...
There is a small truck stop about 10 miles from here that I am thinking about applying at, if Rick doesn't get a "real" full time job! LOL
“Perhaps travel cannot prevent bigotry, but by demonstrating that all peoples cry, laugh, eat, worry, and die, it can introduce the idea that if we try and understand each other, we may even become friends.” Maya Angelou
Great quote... and I'm glad to see you here!
Two Cents!
RNNB: I think you have something there! Wouldn't Am be GREAT at a truck stop?!
Hey Am - I could tell my (step)Dad "When you're passing thru Kansas next, say HI! to my friend Am!" That would be so cool. I know those folks work really hard, especially the waitresses, but what stories you'd hear, and what a huge impact you could have on humanity. Wow, what an awesome idea. I hope, if you do apply, that it comes your way.
Agree with me now will ya folks!?
Two Cents! Yahoo!
Post a Comment
<< Home