today i went for a long walk. i needed some sort of outdoor time, and set out with the sole mission of finding a coffee shop who also potentially made bubble tea (i know - crazy requests). it wasn't much, and often when i set out on these missions, i know in my gut it's simply a reason to go.
i walked in a circle. a giant loop of a busy street. i stopped into a chocolate factory, and peered into the windows of old offices that reminded me of my dad's in the 90's. i picked flowers (and then ran when i was caught), and i took some photos with a camera that hadn't seen the light of day in a long while. i stopped into places i had been curious about, and i took moments to stare.
for those of you who know vancouver, you will also know there are these huge, beautiful trees in the forest. they have unending spiralling limbs that reach out to the sky... and often in all other directions. they are strangely beautiful in that way... but best of all, they are covered in what appears to be fuzz. a warm, full sweater of green coziness. and they never fail to remind me of dr. suess.
they are mystical trees that belong in children's books, and everytime i come upon one i feel as though i've been transported to some other world - one where everyone's verbiage rhymes, creatures are interested in fun and community, and everything is fuzzy and beautiful. and while i always stop to admire (and try to capture in photographs) how these trees make me feel, i rarely just bask in what pulls my heart to them.
they are mystical trees that belong in children's books, and everytime i come upon one i feel as though i've been transported to some other world - one where everyone's verbiage rhymes, creatures are interested in fun and community, and everything is fuzzy and beautiful. and while i always stop to admire (and try to capture in photographs) how these trees make me feel, i rarely just bask in what pulls my heart to them.
today, i stopped. i stood outside the chocolate factory, and stared at their enormous fuzzy tree, and reflected on how that alone made me feel like i was in a rohld dahl novel. why had i never tried to touch how fuzzy those trees were? why have i never ever imagined the mythical creatures who likely make a home in that tree? why have i never ever noticed that climbing that tree would be WAY more comfortable and cozy than the trees i climbed as a child? (i know, i know. this is getting weird).
that is all to say, had i stopped at my true destination - a small cafe near my house who sells bubble tea and has free internet and functions as a perfect space for writing and being 'alone' - i would have never stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and stared up at the fuzzy tree outside the chocolate factory for 3 minutes straight. and i never would have let myself escape to those places that my mind so (obviously) desperately needed.
i can't just walk. i need a destination. and i know that reflects heavily as a small microcosm of how i live my life. i've always needed an end. a goal or a meaningful moment at the end of the tunnel. so then, what would happen were i to let myself meander? would i find fuzzy trees outside of chocolate factories, and have moments in my own timeline where i could share the craziness inside my head when i actually allow myself to just be?
i had a conversation with a dear friend of mine today - he shared his plans for his new life adventure. he left his job, his wife asked for a leave of absence, and they are embarking on a journey of what it would look like if they truly allowed themselves to just 'be'. they are travelling across the country, with a tent, and eachother. he asked me what it was like when i did it... and it occurred to me that i didn't even remember. i remembered the end goal of the journey - the day i was proudly able to pronounce a job, a home, a meaning to my new adventure. what i struggled with was sharing the details and the feelings of the trip to arrive at that point in time.
remember to meander. to allow yourself to just be. to enjoy what is there, when it is there, and when you perhaps (or more likely even) least expect it. while we hear this in overwhelming regularity, it's days like this when i reminded by my own subconscious that those people - the advice givers, and quote makers, and life pushers - they were all right. there will be days when i forget to 'smell the roses'.
and then, there will be days when i stop and stare.