For six months I’ve been trying to get home, but apparently I was needed in another realm. Aside from the external story that was downright humorous when you’re at the end of your rope, my inward journey home, enlightened me with radical acceptance, void of judgment.
I clung my sweaty palms to my seat in a 1989 Scooby Doo RV that shakes barely going over 55 mph. After the millionth time of trying to get home I feel relief yet absolute terror. My husband fully conscious of my head injury trauma tries to make the drive out of the city as gentle as possible, but I crash internally, bawling my eyes out in sheer fear. I can’t hold it in anymore. I let fear exist.
What follows, amazes even me, as I work with this on a daily basis. I’ve found going INTO the fear, not the story per say, but allowing the fear to exist gave it what it’s been asking of me. To listen. I understand that fear was actually my ally! It’s helped me have a voice when I needed to tell a driver to, “slow the eff down”. It’s helped me to say, “no” when I didn’t want to be an inconvenience but needed to be. It gave me balls/ovaries at standing up for myself and MY life whereas before I just wanted it to be over with and not deal with it, as I felt so embarrassed I was the way I was. Fear made me do it anyway. As I purged every pent up emotion that I no longer could carry the weight of, I birthed myself a new. Fear was my ally.
“How would another handle my trauma response”, I thought. Would they sit with my trauma, creating space for its arrival and departure? Or would there be judgement and tell me to get over it? What would I do for another in this situation? So, I sat with her/myself, I let her have her fear, own it in fact. I wouldn’t dare take away the offering of it by dismissing it, or trying to make it not exist. No, I let her feel the power of it all. And she did with the comfort of me being there, responding un-traumatized and blessed to be in the space of epiphanies.
Each state I passed through, was a new state of mind. One by one I shed what no longer was of service to me. Gently. No need for shake up, wake ups. Been there, done that. Something in me, gave way to the possibility that I really might be heading home this time. But home was not a destination, it was a journey within. I know it sounds cliche, but it wasn’t even the cliche part that was awakening, more that I knew this all along. I’ve been so stripped of basic life necessitates these past 3 years, I’ve come to believe there’s joy in everything. There’s joy in the nothing AND the having. All of it. Most experience the art of letting go and I remember how I too had to go through that, but what I’ve found is there’s an art in HAVING. Everything I have, has undergone crucial discernment and there’s so much that brings me joy! I’m a designer (artist) by heart so what people consider ‘stuff’ is actually my joy, as every-thing that I live with brings satisfaction and appreciation for its existence. I’m grateful I’m this way. To most it seems frivolous, attached to the material. To me, I’m in it. Form, purging, collecting, shapeshifting.
Speaking of shapeshifting I met 2 beings on my travels. I stood at my favorite spot in the world in BC, Canada and said, “when I die whoever is alive, please spread my ashes here”. A Raven comes WALKING up from the other-side… of the road. We ‘corvid’ communicate at a social distance of 6 feet away. She is fascinating/fascinated. Then a second older Raven comes with her. They study us, and the first one jumps up on our roof of our RV observing our hunk of tin with boxes of treasures. They don’t leave, neither do we. About 5 minutes pass, they’re still walking around us. We toss cashews to get them to move out of the way so we can finish our journey home, they eat some but that’s not why they’re here. Perplexed we try to feed them more. As the older (male) one gets the treats we sneak away and then as the RV window was rolled down on the driver’s side the female raven swoops up and flys alongside our window for a 1/4 of a mile. My husband’s arm reaching out, shrieking in delight almost touching her, she flys us home. I’ve come to understand these were our late dogs, shapeshifted. Pardon me, while I cry….
Almost the entire trip we had radio silence, we could not play sound. We’re good with silence even if it’s 2 weeks as you can’t even hold a conversation in the RV unless you want to shout it. Finally space to think, really feel. Parents with little kids know how happy that can make one. As we cross into Alaska, as soon as we snap a pic of our state sign, the radio turns on. Screen Door Porch – Needle and a Record play. Can’t seem to get the lyrics with slow internet but excited to hear the words someday. We couldn’t even figure out where the song was playing from.
Home at last, was bewildering. Everything showed that I lived here, but I had amnesia. Both of us, confused as to where our dry food goes. Only till later we discover it’s right in front of us under the island. You see, we recently moved permanently in our current house and put our stuff where WE wanted, not how the house was purchased. Then we left for 6 months. I was in my bedroom trying to find summer clothes starring at wool sweaters and jeans. I thought I must not have any summer clothes. I then opened a different closet and found them. Again bewilderment. I had no opinion, no fear, just udder bewilderment, which might translate to be-wild-in-the-moment. I was living a dream, a guest at my own house. Which leads me to believe that home IS where the heart is – within.
I gained true adventurous freedom from my limitations and judgments – that I should be free of ‘things’. Freedom doesn’t cost anything unless you put value on it, so let it come TO you. Nothing has a hold on you, rather we have a hold of it. Don’t let it go, rather let it, let go of you. Invite it in, be free of your self-made judgements, allow it to be listened to. Just like your dreams, if you wake up, go back to bed to revisit it, understanding every way leads home.
Home at last,
Vanessa Wishstar, Intuitive Medium