I know the woman’s voice by heart, the one that comes on and tells us we are now approaching the stop for ‘Table Mesa.’ The tone of her voice is calm, robotic, and very clear. She is the voice I associate with travel into Boulder, CO. Today, I hear her voice and floods of experience I’ve had over the last three years wash my mind. I’m not even off the bus, and I can almost smell the hot red dust of the flatiron trails. I can feel the familiar burn of the welcome (and incessant) sun, and taste the dry chap skin on my lips. Her voice is a gateway into the entire physical change that happens within days of being here.
My nervous system likes the resonance of open spaces, no fault of the forest I live in. The forest consciousness of Bloomington, Indiana serves me very well in many ways. The forest teaches my system of connection, roots, and community; reliance and sharing with others. The forest teaches of shadow, enclosure, turning inward, breathing the green deep. But sometimes, often times, I crave the horizon, to see far into the distance. To be able to see the sun emerge and follow it as it goes down. To be connected with intense solar energy, masculine principle; something that inspires directionality….allows me to vision into the future.
My throat opens here too. It recognizes space, the opportunity to expand into the air around itself, and my thoughts travel more around my aura, than in my mind.
I used to think that what I loved was how this place made me feel, but the more I understand how re-creation inspires my soul, the more I realize that what I love is how this place (MANY places) inspires my physicality to morph. For me, recreation is about allowing the earth to enter to enter and inspire my flesh. It is an act of following the stirrings of the soul to find pieces of itself again and again over places on this earth.
Every trip from Indiana to Colorado a dimensional time warp for me. I leave Indiana at noon, and arrive to Colorado at 12:40, like no time has passed. I remove my eyes from the green clouded forest into to blazing red sun. It’s the time change, but also the essence change that creates the feeling I’ve traveled through a vortex. And, there is also the reality that I feel equally at home here, as I do at home. I used to divide myself, believing that there was such a think as one place to feel at home with. But, by traveling over the course of my life, I’ve come to recognize the truth of my existence in several worlds at once. When I come back here, I am home…and when I travel to Albuquerque I am also home, and in Ashland, Oregon and East Bay San Francisco, and South of the Memphis Pyramids outside of Cairo at a beach of the Red Sea…I am home. Everywhere that I’ve loved, I’ve had the same sensation that I actually was a part of that place, that some part of my soul has always lived there.
Having home in so many places has led me to feel that my soul…our souls…are larger, more diffuse than we think they are. I like to play with the idea that in some sense this physical body is like a train station, an airport, where the past, future, place and time enter and leave like airplanes landing and taking off. A point of reference in constant motion, a center for hospitality, accepting visitors from local and foreign lands.
I like being here, re-creating with the part of my soul that lives in the dust and scrub. And I already know I’ll like to re-create with the part of my soul I’ll find in the eyes of a fellow traveler next week at Union Station in Chicago.
Allison for the PGM