"Ms. Crone, The Mist Will See You Now"

Eons ago, at a gathering, a man handed me a glass of water and said, “Here. This will make you smart.” I paused, took the water and sipped it, shocked. I had no idea how to respond, so I didn’t.
Back then, I had no confidence, no spine, and no idea of how to interact with people, let alone stand up for myself. I’ve learned a lot about people since then, and more about myself.


Although I am curious about how people work, what they think, I find the general population perplexing. I am fond of some, and connect deeply with very, very few. This all became clear while driving to the Pacific and back recently.  The journey was almost religious, spiritual, and I came to understand that it was the landscape; the very dirt, rock, and water I was plugging into and feeling the goodly vibes.  I cannot remember ever feeling as whole as I did during that trip, rounding off the love with a most unexpected day of pure bliss on the shore of Lake Superior. 


This is a problem because I live in a world full of people. Why the dissonance? 


For starters, the natural world is nonjudgmental; it’s not out to make you feel small. This is not to say that nature is not humbling. It absolutely can be, but its’ mission isn’t to belittle you–it offers you water because you're thirsty, not as a prop to launch a stinger. It has no mission; it just is, and when you’re near it, and open, it draws forth your truest essence. You can try to be something other than true, but eventually, the natural world will see your ruse and deliver a bear to eat you. 


While I sat on the Lake Superior shore, there was not one single wave, of all of the waves of the day, that I found disappointing. Each one, gave all of its’ time to me, and I was grateful. The great boulders lining the way up the Sand River, weren’t otherwise occupied. I didn’t have to make a goddam appointment to stand, feel them under my feet as I stood watching the rapids run between them. The mist coming in through the trees didn’t skip it’s slow, languorous embrace of my campsite because I wasn’t important enough, and while I was driving on the area roads, the views weren’t sitting off on a bench waiting to blossom only for those worthy-by-ego. Nope. I was good enough. The views were spectacular. 



Things are far from perfect. Yes, I am in a bit of a trough, but it’s a different trough; a much nicer one than all of the rest (this one has cup holders!), so I’m ahead, right? I am bonkers keen to find my tribe. Keen, keener than most, to find that spiritual other. And very much looking forward to having more neato people in my life. So, the hunt begins.


Funny, how it took a couple weeks travelling in the most beautiful parts of the country to grok this.


Oh, and as far as that, here-this-will-make-you-smart-glass-of-water scenario? Now, I would have finished the water, looked at him and replied, “Hey! It must have worked because now I see what an enormous jerk you are! Thanks!” 


Then, I'm sure that a bear would have eaten him.