There is not much to see driving east on I-40 across New Mexico. But as soon as you hit north Texas it is just miles and miles of wind farms. I find it quite beautiful and peaceful too. It does seem to go on forever at times though, so we broke it up with a fun little run in the country. But where to stop? Can I get a sign perhaps? Oh hey, how about at that gigantic cross on the side of the highway? Okay!
We can safely say we understand the wind farm situation. At least we chose to run into the wind on the way out and just coast back in with it at our backs. Except Tom had to spend about 10 minutes wrangling the sweetest dog that escaped her pen and was jogging down the country road with us. Finally he just knocked on the door and asked the owner to keep her inside while we left. Good grief. I’m sure we looked like lunatics to all the farm vehicles zipping by but it was a much needed workout and the scenery was kind of stunning. I felt like I was on that road in Forrest Gump where they deliver the angel wing packages. Cotton bolls swirled around me and I even got hit by a tumbleweed that escaped some barbed wire fencing. Big sky, I heart you.
The random overnight in Oklahoma City was unremarkable. Tom found an RV Park just off the highway and the highlight was a nice chat with an employee who refilled our propane tanks. As we pulled out for the last long day of driving to Memphis, Judy called. Early that morning Granpa had gone home to be with Jesus. He was at peace in his new perfect heavenly body, basking in the vision of a lifetime, where there is no pain or suffering. We will miss him terribly and I can only hope to honor him by spending the rest of my days running to the cross of Christ. Some days it might look a lot like a windmill.
A New Year is a cliche time for reflection and goal setting. I’ve found myself with an overwhelming amount of things to reflect on and absolutely no concrete plans for the future. It’s basically paralyzing me. And I vacillate between making lots of detailed plans and making none whatsoever. In this instance freedom feels like shackles. Too many options is dizzying. My eyes literally hurt from scanning websites for job opportunities, house sitting gigs, and rental units. We’ve been in a holding pattern for about 6 weeks. My family kicked off the holiday season with a funeral which set a strange tone for me. It’s hard to explain but celebrating my grandfather’s life leaves me wondering what the hell I’m doing with my own. I mean, I wonder that a lot, I always have. I’ve felt an uneasy unsettled unsuccessful blah thing for as long as I can remember. I’ve gone in so many different directions, started down a variety of paths, but I never seem to get very far down them before I take another oddball turn. I get the impression some people think it’s irresponsible, others find it adventuresome, still others probably assume I’m lost, or a lost cause. I read books about women who take chances and chase their dreams and make bold statements and love deeply and find success in often unconventional ways. And I feel kind of desperate to be like them, since I’ve so clearly not followed any traditional or expected path. But the thing that keeps tripping me up is I don’t have this deep seated desire to do or be anything. I don’t have a hidden talent. People don’t reach out and tell me – hey, that thing you do for fun from time to time – you’d be really good at that like as a business. I’m well-educated, I’m intelligent, I like to read, I like to write, I love puzzles, I love nature, I am reasonably athletic, I have an eye for beauty and color and shapes, I am agreeable and relatively comfortable with people. But there are no blatant talents, no outstanding achievements, a lot of anxiety and insecurity, no drive to be successful, no entrepreneurial spirit, no desire for attention. I just want to find a rhythm. Some way to contribute to society. To be productive and useful in a way that is somewhat unique to me. I just feel so plain and boring. That might sound strange coming from a girl who quit her job not once but twice in the last two years to go out into the world and explore and try to find herself and this THING that she’s supposed to do or be. And how phenomenally depressing to even utter the words that after almost two years of adventuring and putting myself out there, that maybe I’m just not that interesting and don’t have some incredible thing to offer. Please dear God don’t let that be the answer. Come ON already! What do I need to do to find some direction? You’d think after all the hours I’ve spent running, hiking, and biking in nature, in addition to the hours and hours of driving back and forth across America, that maybe I’d get some little signs or feelings or nudging. But as I resign myself to work another tax season I feel a piece of me dying. Cubicle life is suffocating for me. It doesn’t lead anywhere. If I was meant to succeed in an office environment surely one of the many many jobs I’ve had would have gone somewhere rather than left me physically ill and emotionally drained. I put on weight just thinking about it. Looking back on the photos in my closet from middle school, high school, college, and my 20s it is obvious that I’ve been coping with these issues for a long long time by sneaking junk food. I can’t even think about how different my life might have been if I’d spent some of my teenage years figuring out who I really was and where I belonged in the world. I weep at the thought of the life I could have been living these past 20 years. But since I can’t do anything to change the past I’m left with the big what now? How do I really start my life NOW?