Sometimes I step outside of my comfort zone, like a brave explorer, and go some place totally different, and then halfway through the journey I freak out. Everything seems foreign…and frightening!
I have the sensation of one walking through a lonely desert. My tongue is parched and bleeding, I’m on my hands and knees…and I’m convinced that I’m going to die. Staring into the wavy haze, I see an oasis in the distance. I’m saved! With renewed purpose I push forward through the blistering heat, fueled by the promise of water, and blessed shade. (This is where you hear the needle drag across the record.) Huh? A freaken mirage? You’re kidding me. Right?
So it is. So it is. Stupid, stupid, me. I should have known to bring my own water, besides I have no business wandering around in the wilderness in the first place. I’ve overshot my abilities, wandered way too far out of bounds. I thought I knew the way, had been here before. Where are the palm trees, and pool of deep blue water? Of course I’ve never been here. This is definitely not the same place. Out here I’m on my own, there are no signs, or landmarks, everything looks ... sandy.
Finding my way back is impossible because the impatient wind has erased my footprints. My only choice is to keep moving and pray that I don’t go in circles, or crazy. I’ll follow the sun, that relentless and unforgiving guide, and pray that it leads me out of this wasteland.
With crinkled lesson book in hand I inch onward. Using my favorite red pen I scribble down some words: Note to Self: A lemonade stand would do well out here.
8 comments:
All I have to say is: at least you had the guts to do it!!
Honey, I'm still doing it and I intend to do it until it either kills me or fulfills my wildest dreams;)
Leah- I have an extra water bottle I'd be happy to share with you. The mirages are tricky, but it takes a clever mind to recognize them--and I've no doubt that you can take on any desert storm. Go, go into the wild, sandy drifts! :)
Thanks Jayne, I might need something a little stronger than water though;)
Oh I know all about that impatient wind erasing any sign of safety. It frequently has its way with me, too! What a short, wonderful piece, Leah, and I have to say I can relate - after plotting and scheming an adventure that I am certain will save my emotional life, give or take, I almost always end up freaked out just as I take that first foreign step, and end up asking myself, 'Wouldn't it just be easier to stay stranded on this small little island of what is known? At least I know what to expect!" That said, I've never turned around and gone back...
Hi Cathy! Small island of comfort, hmm, it does sound inviting, but nine months is the gestation period for humans, after that the island becomes much too small... man was made to explore, dream, and reach for the stars. One must leave the island to do this (she says as she bites her nails down to nubs).
You know, I get lost in a similar desert, and it happens to me more often than I would care to experience. Annoys the conniptions out of me, to be honest. Because I'm always certain I packed enough provisions, am wearing comfortable shoes, have my trusty rabbits foot (the synthetic one, because I'm a big baby about that type thing, and synthetics don't have big brown eyes and fuzzy cute ears) and the sense that I'm headed in the right direction. Danged if I don't end up shocked when things get all dry and dusty, and there I am again. Hot and sweaty and grumpy & pretty sure that no chance of snow cream is on the immediate horizon. If it helps, I think I heard a rumor of a lemonade stand on the other side of that next rise...the one that looks to be about....oh....another five lifetimes...or maybe 7 dimensional layers away. I'll meet you there!
- Dawn
Dear Sweet Dawn, How brave of you to agree to meet me out here in this desolate place. I'll continue onward knowing that I'm not alone...and then there's that lemonade stand to look forward to!
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