Only The Curious

I write this post from a point of equilibrium – halfway between things. We’re almost exactly half of the way from Madison to Boulder, in Lincoln, NE where some friends have been so generous as to put Leah and I up for the night. So often our outside circumstances reflect our inner ones, and at the moment I’m feeling very neutral.

Leaving was hard. I knew I’d be sad, but I expected it to be more bittersweet than melancholy. I cried a lot, especially when watching my mother and then Ian shrink in my rearview mirror. The weight of those emotions only started to lift about 6 hours into the trip, as we watched the spectacular light show that the thunderstorms on the horizon put on for us. When you see something that massive and powerful and beautiful, you are reminded that your own life is but one small piece of so much more.

I had pictured my departure in my head like a scene from a movie – my closest friends and family in the driveway, all waving goodbye as I pulled away, music blaring, thrilled for my grand adventure. While I knew this wasn’t quite realistic – it was a workday, after all – I wasn’t quite prepared for the drawn out process of saying goodbye to people individually and doing so hours and hours before my departure. Many people I didn’t even get to say a proper goodbye to; last time I saw them I didn’t realize I wouldn’t be seeing them again. Pulling away from Ian’s apartment with him standing alone in the parking lot, waving until after I was out of sight was just painful and sad. Not the celebrated exit I had mentally prepared myself for.

When we finally left Madison, it was nearly 3 p.m., hours later than I’d planned. It was overcast and threatening rain, and the last place I set foot in Wisconsin was at the Supertarget, where we bought a cooler bag and a bottle of wine for our overnight hosts. It was weird. But Leah did take some video which made it feel more official and important.

And then we just started driving West. Infrequent downpours slowed us throughout Eastern Iowa; once it was so dense we had to pull over and wait it out. We listened to “The Hitchiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” and noted funny names (Middle Raccoon and North Skunk rivers) and pulled out the videocamera each time we hit some kind of landmark. At 9:00 p.m. we were hungry and desperately hoping to find a place that would still serve us food; we nearly fell to our knees and bowed down in the parking lot of a Subway somewhere East of Council Bluffs.

Though I was exhausted last night, I can’t say I slept soundly. It’s always odd being in a place with unfamiliar sounds and smells, and that combined with anxiety and excitement pulled me in and out of waking consciousness all night. I am finally starting to feel excited this morning though. We’ll be in Colorado TODAY! It feels so surreal. But I suppose that’s how it is when you’re finally doing something you’ve talked about for so long, you weren’t even sure you believed yourself anymore.

As I move more into wakefulness this morning, the anxiety lingers and sadness about everyone I’m leaving behind still colors my thoughts, but joy and excitement are beginning to flood in.

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