A Personal Journey Blog
From time to time I will ponder location and how it relates to storyline, process, and where we fit in. I know I am on a journey called ‘life,’ and not knowing exactly how I got to a locale I am trusting the process. I have been nomadic for quite some time now. It all started when I was little and my family would travel to the deep south for holidays, spent six months living in the islands, and to the Southwest on an adventure to the unknown. Because of some rather intense experiences into the unknown I moved there in search of myself. I succeeded in that endeavor for the most part, gained knowledge of the world, found good friends, and solidified my sense of adventure. But it wasn’t until I returned to the West Coast where my strength was born, out of the lost of the most influential person in my life. That was the starter pistol in my new life, a marathon that I’m still running in some respects.
I gained this strength then, but didn’t know how to use it. So, fumbling off the starter block and I ran away, knowing if I stayed I would be destroyed. I ran away to the frozen tundra North, still blinded by grief and relying on my inner self I still wasn’t sure of. I definitely tripped and feel quite a few times, learning I could no longer rely on other people; that the only person I could lean on was myself.
But, with this strength was the ability to see beyond the routine in life, and see past the mortal coil. I also found some great friends to share these experiences with, for a short or long term, depending on their own journey. I went deeper then ever before in belief faith, trust, and meditation, and came out of it even stronger. Through the process I found a bff and some cohorts who were going through something similar. And because of all this, I ended up moving from the Northern plain, to the deepest South.
The locale didn’t last and was quite brief, but it was a dizzying maze of realizations for me. I know then what I didn’t want, connected with myself on a much deeper level, and found my bearings; and it wasn’t across the border in Mexico. As my ride or die left for the west coast, I vowed to live a better fulfilled life and to heal from the starter gun trauma that had chased me from my path. And as we left, the other people in South Texas evolved to, and blew apart, on their own journey. We wouldn’t meet up for quite some time. This journey my life took wasn’t as blatant as a sixties psychedelic journey, but it had nearly the same impact on how I saw the world and myself in it.
So I returned home with my ride or die and I began the healing process from the loss that had me run away. And, working my way on the other side of it, I found myself on the same road I had started out on years ago. But I was different now; no longer obsessed with the superficial and silliness, which had defined my goals in the past, I could pursue what I had intended all along; needing something deeper and much more meaningful. So, after a few more stumbles, we left for the only place that made logical sense: the beginning, where I had started out before.. in the familiar unknown, the Southwest.
There I have stayed, collecting myself, strengthening my resolve and having many adventures. The heart occasionally tries to reach out for antoher, but only to be pushed aside, or used in some way. My road was twisting and turning even here, resembling a rollercoaster at times. But through it all I now know what I want and the road, currently, is laid out before me.
I had started this entry from a writing prompt, a postcard of where I would want to live at some point. I was saving it for a dream board, but my minimized sense of things makes that seem like a waste of time. I know what I want and am working towards it now. How it may look when I get there may change, as well as who I am with because my heart cannot stop hoping. But if life is a journey and the only thing we can control is the process then I have been on the right track all along, even when I lost my map.
Written by Sophia Bungay @Wickedlydrivenmedia 2017