The Re-Awakening

"Rolling down my driver’s side window

Cruising in a worn out mini-van

Bra slipped off once I hit Mile 10

But I don’t even give a damn

Driving fast past field after field

A blur of peanuts, cotton, and wheat

I take one deep breath, let it roll out

The autumn air, so pungent and sweet"

Turns out...you can wrap all these secret parts of yourself into the prettiest of boxes--but the truth always finds a way out eventually. Every little piece of your past life, neatly tucked away, will find a way to come looking for you. Until one day, you find yourself at nearly 43 years of age with the walls closing in around you while making dinner, suddenly feeling anything and everything at one time, grieving over a tremendous loss--of self, identity, what used to be...who the hell knows? All you know is that your skin suddenly feels tight and suffocating, there’s this undeniable urge to peel if off and crawl your way out. It had been so long since I’d entertained the notion of my own freedom. Sinking into a eucalyptus infused bathtub funk an hour later, post melt-down, my thoughts began drifting to precious memories of years past that I longed to conjure back to life. 

"Left arm hanging out the window

Wind coursing through fingers and hair

I need to peel more layers off

I want my soul stripped bare"

A precocious tomboy living in a peanut farming town, I run free through fields and trees by day, preferring to lounge in my treehouse, poring over an issue of Nat Geo over hanging with the girls. A wanderlust ignites in my heart. My Daddy and I walk along the woods at dusk, watching bats dip down to catch their evening meals.  My hand in his, I feel safe from the expectations and anxiety that await me in the years to come.

"Got U2 playing on the radio

Sung every song ‘til my throat felt sore

But I still haven’t felt, nor seen, nor found

Just what the hell I’m looking for

I was cleansed by the Holy Spirit

At the innocent age of nine

Had my share of His body and His blood

Yet still there’s a void in this heart of mine

Feeling like I’m always running, running

To where I just don’t know

Something out there calls to me

And I can’t..don’t want to let it go"

The smell of fresh tortillas sizzling and strong Honduran coffee waft up the stairs of the pastoral home up to my rusty bunk bed. "Este es el dia." I prepare for my first cold shower of the day. Mixing concrete and blowing bubbles with the children--a fire lights within that I never want to extinguish. Can I linger in this special place? I dread returning to a place where I'll never quite belong.

"Veering off to the right, I catch a note

A familiar road that sings my tune

Out of sight and out of mind I park, stepping down

Breathing in the scent of home, now taking off my shoes

Toes digging into cool, red Georgia clay

Eyes turned up to the starlit sky

The most feral part inside of me

Breaks free with a night owl’s cry"

A simple, old cinder block fishing cabin surrounded by trees, overlooking three beautifully clear, spring-fed ponds. My cabin--my sanctuary--holds within its walls my peace of mind. On nights with a full moon, I take a glass of wine down to the ponds without a flashlight, lie on the bank, and stargaze. The ponds mirror the starlit sky and all is well with my world. I live alone, save for my three-legged, white German Shepherd rescue, Evie. I can walk around naked, drink all the wine I want. Much of my time is spent listening to the radio, reading books, or occasionally enjoying a good cigar out on my patio after working around the yard. A feral side of me awakens here; I own my sexuality and wear it well.

"Robert Plant’s sultry croon

Reminds me of what used to be

Those days mindless things weren’t allowed

To have such complete hold over me

I smell a storm brewing just on the horizon

My senses now electrified, intensified, awake

I don’t know where tonight may lead, but

If it keeps on raining, the levee’s gonna break"

A full moon rises high in the night sky, shedding light through the bathroom window on my naked body, laying unapologetically on display, having born witness to years of an invisible war, collecting collateral damage along the way; scars and stretch marks from growing and pushing three little bodies out of my own, from biopsies and surgery, weight gain from the onslaught of unbalanced hormones that have ripped my sanity to shreds. Every imperfection is now aglow in defiance of the labels I've so harshly attached to them over time. Tears stream down my face as I whisper to myself, "Enough." I stand, facing the mirror I avoided an hour before--taking full inventory of my evolution--of the resilient woman I have become. And within this moment, I realize--it's time to re-emerge. With a smile, I take my glass of wine in hand, walk through the bedroom door, the living room, and right out the front door. And on the porch I sit with bittersweet merlot on my lips, listening to the band of crickets and frogs, the warm summer air on my body. Naked. Free. Me. 

"Another deep breath, toes digging deep

The first drops begin to fall

And in this moment, I am free…I exist

Just for myself, for no one else...I am whole.

The day is steadily un-becoming

As night approaches its un-folding

And I lean into the whole un-doing

The bittersweet surrender of it all"