“Traveling through the graveyard with a suitcase full of sparks, honey I’m just trying to make my way to you.”
This song has been a near constant presence in my life for a year now, introduced to me by a close friend. It says so much, and yet is so ambiguous in my life, that it just… fits. It holds a special place in my heart, but to most people, they just hear the backing track on car commercials. It’s so much more, and it’s delightful to see how everyone interprets music.
For me, traveling has been a dream of mine. I’ve always wanted to visit places that only existed in books; Italy, Ireland, Scotland, London, just to name a few. When I think of traveling, I think of getting to see the mundane everyday things that people in those parts of the world find mundane. Seeing tourist attractions is nice, but has any of you just thought of standing near a canal and watching the water pass? I always think of wanting to do the things that everyone is bored by. Lay under the stars that look like home but aren’t home. Drink coffee from a foreign café and eat all the delicious foreign chocolates. My soul desires to wander and explore, but I know I can’t do it alone.
Whenever I dream of traveling far away, I think of doing it with someone I love. I thrive over the shared experience of new places. While I most likely could travel alone, it’s not something I prefer. I yearn to hold someone’s hand and pull them down a street in Denmark or Fifth Avenue in New York, singing Hamilton songs and being my cringy nerdy self. I dream of standing on the Golden Gate Bridge at sunset, just existing and watching everything around me. Of laughing and splashing in sandy beaches and warm water, appreciating that the ocean is much different from home. I don’t need fancy hotels or big attractions; I desire quiet inns and secret spots in foreign countries where all I must worry about is how much coffee is too much. Falling asleep on the sand at night, feeling alive just to be somewhere new. These are experiences I could do alone, but things I don’t want to do alone, for fear that my anxiety will turn these great experiences into nightmares. I’d rather be lost in France with someone close by my side and my dog, than just myself and Dodson. It lends a new layer of love for those memories that I will forever cling to.
My big dreams have been in part what has led me to feel like I don’t quite belong anywhere. When I think of where I’d like to live, the city is not one of them. I thrive on quiet and peace. I am mostly me when I am in nature, on a mountain or by the sea. I love the noises I hear being nature and myself and the people around me, not trains, buses, cars, and planes. California is not a wonderful place to be all the time, but it is my home, even if it doesn’t feel like home. Trust me, it doesn’t feel like home most times. But moving across the country by myself… does not hold the same joy as I would like it to be.
The song that I quoted earlier captures that notion for me; that I am simply traveling with a suitcase full of sparks to the place where I truly belong. Wherever that is, I only ask for my person to be there, because Lord do I have a lot of hugs to make up for. I am more reflective in this post and you must forgive me, but I am simply the blue-eyed dreamer that I’ve always been. I’ve just never had the chance to let most see where my mind goes to. I do hope that I haven’t completely frightened you all by my big dreams and my inner reflection for a post today. I think I am just writing what my heart is saying and letting time speak for itself. We’ll see. Remember this blog, future me. Also remember that you love kites ridiculously and snow. And water in general. Okay, time to go! ?