Good morning from Taos, one last time, at least for a while. I "shouldn't" be writing. I "should" be nestling plates into towels, stowing the chair I'm sitting in into one of the outside bins in the trailer, and stowing all moveable items for their short trip to Ojo today. But I want to honor this morning, this moment. I want to thank Taos for all it's been for us these last eight years. I want to wave to The Mountain and blow it a kiss. I want to breathe this cool morning air for a few minutes, really being in it, feeling it on my skin, and celebrating everything that's happened, and is about to happen. Celebrate everything, even at seven in the morning.
I fell apart last night, after a perfect evening with our friends. I don't know what happened. We were all so brave as we said our "see-you-soons", nobody willing to say good-bye. Then I got to my driveway, my Magic Driveway, looked up at the stars, and just... lost it. I'm leaving a lot behind, and I guess I'm finally letting myself feel that. Tears are appropriate though; they're like a little bath from the inside out. I had a good bath in the driveway, and went to bed to sleep little, and look out the windows at the stars a lot. The moon drifted by, and then the milky way. I could hear all the night sounds - crickets, barking dogs, breeze in the trees, trucks in the distance, a horse snorting, just over the fence. But I couldn't smell the honeysuckle, the rain-dampened dust, or the sage drifting across from the mesa. My nose was too stuffed up from crying.
I'm a little humiliated to even admit all this. but I'm here to be honest, at least as honest as possible. Some things are none of your business, but I feel like I owe you, and want to give you, as much of what this new journey is all about as I can stand to share. We're in this together to a certain extent, so buckle up. Here we go. Maybe you'll be inspired to do something "crazy" of your own. Leaving everything behind for a gypsy life in a trailer isn't for everyone, but we all have our deep and secret yearnings. Consider letting yours come to the surface. Have a closer look at it, and see if you can somehow make it real. It might be scary at times, but so far I can tell you for sure, it will be worth it.
And so, my friends, I'll see you on the road!