Monday, June 25, 2012

Country Roads

The sun was so warm. The heat was pressing against my body as if I were in a pressure cooker. Instead of feeling exhausted and gross I just shed clothes and got in the water. My skin darkened, my senses awakened to the sounds of millions of cicadas, the smell of fresh cut grass and bbq, and the taste of fresh picked peaches and sweet icetea. Sweaty, sumptuous and free I soaked up the flavors and sounds of my hometown. Day trips to childhood places that I thought would shred my soul turned out to be journeys to enlightenment, strength and whole truths. The nights were drenched in laughter, furtive glances, healing music and sneaky missions. Whiskey trickled and tequila flowed down our thirsty throats. Our glasses full, stories on the table and the corridors of our hearts open wide as we reconnected. Like a wound that took a decade to bridge and grow anew we reached out to each other to form a sexy scar that no longer hurt, just made a story.  We came together with careful tentacles reaching pensively in search of love, patience, honesty and mind blowing excitement. We are the music makers, we are the dreamers of dreams.  The hardest task on my journey home was to face the most horrific relic of my childhood. My dads house and the surrounding land has only offered miserable pain in my adult life. Shame, fear, resentment and great loss are soaked into the walls, yard and garage.  On the way my friend asks me "Why do you want to see it?", "Are you sure you need to go there?" ... I had no solid answer other than I must go. To my absolute astonishment I found the house had been rebuilt and the land cleared of all signs of what used to be. The wildflowers were ten feet high and the Texas grapes still littered the dirt road. My heart was filled with light. I was spared the hell that I was willingly walking into.   As if I couldn't have felt more healed, a dove lighted near us in the yard and was obviously very comfortable to be close. It was like a layer of emotional sludge had been lifted. It reminded me of the bath house in "Spirited Away" when she finds the bicycle and pulls it out of the side of the massive pile of sewage and all the garbage is released in a great expulsion. Then the river god was free of the poisons that had not spoiled it's beauty, just buried it. 

No comments:

Post a Comment