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The Journey to Myself...

My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as the early morning sun inched above the cacti peppered, desert landscape. The front dash air-conditioner pumped out a steady stream of cool air, yet sweat beaded from my skin in a strong survival response. The only sound I heard above the running of the cars engine, was the beating of my own anxious heart. My nerves were driving me to push the gas pedal and continue forward, into a foreign and unforgiving land. 


I was broken. I was scared. I was alone. 


“Did you cry?” A friend asked later that day, “When you finally crossed into Mexico, did you cry?" I couldn’t help but smile at the memories of that morning as I contemplated the question. I had left everything I built over 40 years to drive 4,500 kilometers into a country where I had no tribe, spoke little of the language and had no foresight into how the next chapter of my life would unfold. 


As I was waved through the border that day and accelerated south, a deep sense of peace overwhelmed me and I began to laugh, uncontrollably. A soul bearing laugh full of joy. Despite the pain and tears leading up to this moment, I knew that for the first time in my life, I was putting myself first. I had listened to my intuition, and I was living a life authentic to ME. 


I laughed.


I laughed so hard my dog awoke beside me in the passenger seat, sleepily gazing up at me as I let out months of tension. My journey had led me here, to this desert road just south of the US Mexico border. I had no job and my worldly possessions fit into a single vehicle, yet I was at peace. I was home. 







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