Walkabout: Day 20, Fire & Air

November 8, 2016 ~ Tuesday

8a Morning Pages ~ Brian’s Canyon, Cloudcroft, NM

I am headed to Carlsbad Caverns today. I was going to get a short hike in here in Cloudcroft, but I had to change my plans. I was kept up much of the night with the mouse scurrying and chewing. I can’t stand it anymore. I googled how to get mice out of your car, and it turns out they can cause some severe damage if left unchecked.

That is the last thing I need. My life is in my car for the next three months (maybe beyond). I have to protect it. I think it is making its burrow under my driver’s seat. I will buy a couple of traps today, bait them with peanut butter, and get the job over with.

I really didn’t want to kill him. I just wanted to remove him. But he won’t go of his own accord, and I have to take action to protect my things – and my precious sleep!

Which makes me think… I have not been remembering my dreams here lately. That was one of the wonderful things I enjoyed about getting sober. I was dreaming again, and I was learning so much from the symbolism in my dreams.

The last night I was intoxicated was the Saturday night I spent with Mark & Ali. The nights of the ruins hikes I had a couple of beers, and I had two glasses of wine with Tanya. Other than that, nada. YAY!! But why am I not dreaming? My dreams are important to me and to my education.

I have been on the road almost three weeks now. I have crossed four states and have seen amazing sights. But I feel like I have been somewhat disconnected and rushed.

I had pictured myself reading and writing and getting in tune with my deeper self, my instincts, my feminine and intuition. Instead, I am too concerned with not wasting a day, and I have been jumping from here to there with barely enough time to eat, sleep and see something.

Like yesterday at White Sands. I should have sat in that sand, had a snack and a thought, maybe taken the sunset stroll. But I was too concerned with the time, with making camp before dark. I missed making a good experience really great.

I have two weeks left until Thanksgiving, and I still have a lot of ground to cover. And I still have plenty of time to accomplish what I set out to do.

I choose to believe that everything has happened exactly the way it was supposed to happen. I am learning and growing. I am interacting with people freely, and I don’t feel pressured or stressed.

I am conserving and protecting my resources. I am “going with the flow”. I am moving by intuition and not by planning in advance. I have changed my relationship to alcohol.

I am texting my sister, my family and friends. I am sharing myself on Facebook, being more meaningful, intimate, even a little vulnerable. I am an agent of love and a channel of grace.

I am healing my body and my mind with simple, whole foods, less meat, less alcohol, more movement. I am challenging myself physically, mentally, emotionally. Spiritually, I am open to whatever God wants to teach me, and I revel in the revelation of his glory in nature.

The Valley of Fires was so very curious. I believe I read that the lava did not flow down from a volcano but flowed up from a fissure in the earth’s crust. It flowed 4-5 miles wide and 127 miles long, devouring everything in its tracks.

I walked over that lava and marveled at its shape, its harsh reality. And yet it supports life. Things actually grown and live there, plants and animals have adapted.

White Sands was glorious! Incredible! I was brought to tears by how magnificent it was. Stark white sands that stretched out as far as I could see. I hiked alone nearly the entire way. Warm sun and cool breeze, and the chorus of Circle in the Sand playing in my head. Otherwise, my thoughts were empty, and I just WAS. I was at peace.

I need to refresh my supplies while I am out today.

10:15a Tamara just called me, and we must have talked for an hour or so. She wanted to know if I was planning on going to Myrtle Beach this year. She found out so much more, as did I. We talked – really talked, for the first time in years, that I can remember.

The last time we spoke like this was the last weekend in the Outer Banks together, before she went mad. It was wonderful. We talked about the paths we are walking and shared some of our experiences.

We talked about the language of symbols, how they work their “magic” even if we don’t understand them. She sent me her Sri Yantra and told me about Yog, the 10th letter of the Hebrew alphabet and primal voice of nature.

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