Tuesday, June 28, 2011

the dictaphone

I spent a significant amount of time on the road a few months ago. God it was fun, I love being on the road. I had the whole camping thing down and was super organized. I loved the simplicity of it, only a couple changes of clothes, two or three options of what to eat. And it was romantic in a way, just me and the highway, and at night, the squirrels and my book. There was one night I camped at Navajo National Monument in Arizona and there was literally no one else in the entire campground. It was exhilarating to be up there alone and at the same time calm and peaceful.

I felt very insightful on the road. I would ponder life and the ways of the world and Mystery. I had so many thoughts on the road that I couldn't keep up with so I went to Staples and bought a dictaphone. Of course I couldn't by a modern dictaphone where you can download straight to your computer. I was traveling on a budget! Yes, it's an old school dictaphone with mini cassette tapes. Cute!

I've had a rough time of it the last three or four days. There was a bump in the road, quite literally. I was rummaging through some of my things tonight and I came across said dictaphone and I hit play. I liked hearing my voice on those tapes. Although at times it quivered, there was a certain strength in her voice, this me from a few months ago. I was so....aligned then. I knew that I was of the universe and that everything was in it's place. I knew the Earth and I new my Self even though I had NO idea how life was about to unfold. A river guide friend of mine put it best when I met up with him on that trip. "You're in the Eddy", he had said, and I was.  Like I said, I had no idea then what was going to happen but I knew so much. I knew.

I was glad to hear her voice tonight, I needed that. I needed to remember that there is a knowing that I can't un-know even though at times I wish I could. The thing is, I asked to be re-membered, and I still belong to that voice I heard although so much has happened. It's okay to be in the eddy.

I wrote this around the same time of the mini tapes and I find it fitting right now:
--
I walk away
Holding my heart in my hands
Tenderly
For I know she is slightly bruised
And a little bit tired
Thanking her
Every step of the way
--
Tomorrow, once again I walk (or limp) away. And I'm reminded once again, to do so gently.

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