Walk Me Home

Day One- Wild Women Writer’s Challenge

We dropped acid and danced around the campfire all night. When the sun came up, I decided to wander off into the wilderness. Even though I had driven, I wanted to see if I could find “home” by foot. I headed East through the woods, and the brush started becoming denser and denser.

I could feel my primal nature while walking barefoot, waist-deep in bushes and vines, on a level of consciousness that allowed me to be fearless of anything that could potentially be hiding below. I crossed paths with a caterpillar; we both stopped and stared at each other for a moment. And then we continued on our own journey.

The brush was getting thicker, but I kept pushing forward, determined to find the route “home”. But, I started getting frantic, wondering if I’d ever find my way. Eventually, the brush got so thick that I couldn’t push forward any more. So, I turned around and made my way back towards the campsite, feeling lost.

I turned to the trees and begun to feel a very deep connection to them. I observed the breaks in the branches, and felt immense pain within them. I was overcome with sadness and started crying for them, holding the broken branch and trying to heal it. It felt like the love I feel for my mother, or deeper. It felt ancestral.

It wasn’t until then that I realized that the “home” that I was looking for was within me, wherever I go. Our ancestral ties are in everything. The broken branches and suffering are a part of the whole process that we experience. The broken branches didn’t need to be fixed, I had to accept them for what they were and allow them to evolve.