Wild-erness
She holds me until my body can inhale her sweet oxygen, until my muscles relax into her open arms. She supports me with the strength that has been built throughout the centuries of her existence. Her whistling winds softly caress my arms, leaving goosebumps in their tracks. Her warm summer nights let me sink heavily into her embrace, free for a moment from the manufactured pressures of the 21st century. Her rivers rush by, reminding us of the constant flow of life. Her mountains teach us the art of ebb and flow, forcing us to climb before being blessed with the victory of the peak. Her waves remind us of her strength, her trees of her wisdom, and her rocks of her tranquility. Within the grasses, you can find her vulnerabilities in the form of flowers, only blooming during the spring when they feel nurtured enough to open up. Today, I was reminded of her power while adventuring through her mountains, valleys, and country roads.
Honestly, the past couple of weeks have been a battle between funks and glories. I am currently in a time of transition: finished with university while awaiting my next adventure. Routines have been hard to create, and it has been a challenge not to feel guilty for not functioning at the same pace as I did in school. While I know rest is important, it is also difficult. Furthermore, I am home for the last time for the next two years. Knowing that I will not be back for some time, I want to do it all — see all my friends, hike all the peaks, experience all the music, visit all the bars and dinners. However, within all the excitement, I can lose touch with myself. The moments that I need to recharge are suddenly gone, and I am running on adrenaline. Without these moments, I do not have the energy to be the best version of myself.
Furthermore, while home is comforting and exciting, it can also be difficult. I have found myself becoming lost in the freedom of an unstructured schedule and pulled back into the patterns of the person I was when I last lived here. While many of my days have been filled with moments of laughter and bliss, it is a place where a prior version of myself existed. Growth can be hard to maintain, and old patterns hard to avoid. I guess it's a testament to the polarities of life — all cannot always be perfect. Home is comfortable; however, in comfort, growth is hard. Home also pertains to childhood, which is beauty and innocence, but also a reminder of the roots of my insecurities.
Feeling these imbalanced waves of energy and emotions, I have thought a lot about how to control them. I am someone who seeks control when things feel unbalanced. I am familiar with structure, so in my head, the easiest way to recenter is to exert control over all I do, eat, drink, and think. However, what I realized was that rules may lead to short-term progress but they don't last. Being restrictive only feels good for the moment; it’s a form of addiction. Just as the first step to recovery from addiction is taking responsibility for your actions, the same is true for emotional addictions or patterns. I know that there are things at home that cause me anxiety, and I am the only one responsible for this feeling. My anxiety belongs to me and is within my control. I may not be able to rid myself of it at this moment, but I can take responsibility for it.
Instead of imposing strict rules over my life and the physical and metaphorical substances I ingest, I am deciding to pay attention to what feels good inside of me. Here, surrounded by the peaks of mountains, I know I feel good. Today felt good. Skiing down her wide-faced peaks in the middle of June feels good. Her quaint cowboy towns, where secrets remain hidden within the cracks of red antique bricks, urge curiosity. Driving amongst the trees that bend gracefully, through the waterfalls that carry the remnants of winter, and past the lakes that collect the breaths of passerby, I feel truly safe. The wilderness is my home. She holds me. She loves me. She protects me, and reminds me of the woman I am.
- Ava-Rae ❣