Welcome to day 28 of my self comittment to write each day for 15 minutes.
I am currently in a hotel room in Lexington, Kentucky on my way to Asheville, North Carolina with the puppy. I’m watching him make sense of why his bed from home is now placed perfectly in this strange room he can’t seem to exit without my assistance.
I was looking at my calendar for the beginning of the week and realized I had no plans for New Years Eve and no meetings scheduled at the end of the week. I emailed my lobbyist who is helping me champion a bill in the Indiana General Assembly, and asked him if there were any important meetings taking place before January 7th. When he replied no and encouraged me to take this trip I didn’t skip a beat. Championing a bill in the general assembly is a heafty task and I knew that if I drove to the wilderness and had some quiet time at the lake with my dog, I would be more likely to keep my spirit alive this spring.
When I was in my late teens and feeling unsettled or lost or scared about my mom, I would get in the car and drive. I was never going anywhere in particular but being on the road felt freeing for some reason, like I was untouchable or unreachable really. Tonight as I took the narrow turns coming from Louisville to Lexington listening to Van Morrison on the radio, I couldn’t help but tap into that similar feeling. I forgot what being on the road feels like when you are searching.
I have no plan for this trip, I haven’t picked out all of the amazing hikes or made a list of dog friendly breweries or wineries. I am, however, very grateful for the recommendations that friends or loved ones have made from their own experiences. Their suggestions are why we are on our way to Asheville in the first place.
The idea of unplugging feels like the greatest gift I could give myself. Why is it that we crave that so much these days? Blocked out time with no technology, no access, no required behavior? I know why I need it, because my creativity is stifled by stagnancy and stagnancy often for me is brought on by the lack of inspiration or newness. When my life begins to feel like a record on repeat the ideas stop flowing and the angst sets in. I become agitated with the very thought of entering the same room the same way I did the day before. I need more, my body craves movement and varying temperatures and my eyes crave complexity.
When it comes to growth, our rational side tells us we can only go where we have been, to what we have seen before or been told is right and safe. That is why personal growth is so challenging Sometimes you are literally transcending the people you respect and love the most and what they choose to value. It’s as if you are ripping yourself away from them and heading out into the wilderness blindly. But this is the work of each generation, to move beyond the generation that came before them-to explore further and further than we ever have before. And now with technology exploration has such a different meaning. However, I still crave the wild—new air on my face—unfamiliar sounds—uncharted waters.
It is such a poetic way to end one year and dance into the next. Who knows what we will discover, who knows what is to come? Only destiny knows and she isn’t one for talking.