Andrew and I are driving the backroads of East Texas.
Stately pine trees line the highway and give way to rolling pastures dotted with happy cows.
Golden hawks and black black vultures soar overhead. We pass through old towns with historic stone buildings, shotgun shack houses and Baptist churches right across the street from eachother. The further we move from the city, the more time slows down and making coffee is the big event of the day.
Last night we were mesmerized as a Mayfly swarm covered our camp. It was like a wreck you can’t look away from. At dusk, thousands upon thousands of little white bugs divebombed straight into our campfire. It turns out these lil fellas show up once a year. They swarm, mate, and within an hour or a few days, they’re gone.
Often times I pause and think about my fleeting time here. I hate to be all metaphorical about a silly bug but it does make me think, what am I spending my daily energy on? I allow myself to get so anxious over small, small things that wrap up my thoughts for the day. An interesting thing has happened since Andrew and I started traveling more. I come home from a trip and find myself looking around our home for things, stuff, I can get rid of. It just seems like more of my things are unnecessary and simply taking up space.
Now, I’m not saying there is annnnything wrong with having stuff, pretty stuff. But I’m finding myself over time cutting strong emotional attachments to my things. I pick up each item, think of the memories attached to it, enjoy that memory then give or throw away the item. It has oddly been unbelievably freeing.
On our backroads drive we soar by trees that have been around long before I was born and will still stand long after I’m gone. I think of the legacy that my Grandy has created. She is a prayer warrior, beautiful Southern lady, wise, compassionate, patient and downright funny. I don’t know why, but these trees temind me of her.
As we travel on, I’m moving further away from my stuff and holding more tightly to my family, friends, faith and husband.
Another tiny town, another ancient red bricked building. What thoughts am I filling my day with?
There are times when it takes all of my energy to get through one day. And then there are moments I feel a reprive from the noise and confusion. Backroads driving, taking our time, listening to steel guitars whine on the radio. I used to think that I wanted to passionately burn and go down in flames like those silly Mayflies. But now I’m finding it’s perhaps more work to be content with where I am, who I am and what is mine.
So here’s to traveling light, breathing deep and soaking in what is meant to last.
“I wanted to make something sweet.
The blood inside a maple tree,
the sunlight track inside the wood.
It’s gonna take a long long time,
But we’re gonna make something so fine.” Laura Veirs