We are to the second part of the trip. I recovered from what might have been a temporary self-inflicted illness. That's all I'm going to say. I knowingly neglected self-care and refused to stop at the family fare because things weren't working out. Sometimes I get in this mindset (usually when I am running errands, picking something up from from facebook marketplace or estate sale-ing), where I'm disappointed with things not going according to plan and I drive around in an indirect fashion, losing motivation by the second. After taking too many wrong turns or missed exits I finally arrive at the intended destination and don't get out of my car.
I spent a few days with my mother bopping around and shopping. She said some things I didn't want to hear making me internally negotiate the similarities between us. One of them is our enthusiasm for getting lost in bookstores. Another lugging around art supplies, books and a way to make coffee. Years ago I logged into one of her accounts and saw she had Practical Magic saved and was surprised she was a devotee to this movie. This trip she was very witch heavy since she has a friend that's a witch and was reading Magic Lessons in preparation for the sequel. I suggested we watch it our last night while I pack up some stuff. She was locked in like she had never seen it before. I admire her attention to movies and what she loves. She doesn't understand my affinity to the darkness and judges what she doesn't understand.
"Rebecca was happy that she had pleased her daughter with her purchases. I know you better than you thought I might, she said cheerfully, "We're of the same blood and we favor the same things". In her way Rebecca loved her child dearly, but what you give up you can learn to live without, even if it causes you heartbreak at the start. Whether you are mortal or not, you go on, even if the sorrow nags at you." - Alice Hoffman / Magic Lessons
My mother doesn't like traveling alone. I love the freedom to do whatever I want whenever I want. This is my version of needing control. If I am alone I have control, I don't have to push myself if I am tired. I don't have to consider other people's agenda. There are two wolves inside of me, one knows connecting with people and being in community is important, but being patient with their behaviors, managing uncertainty, trying to not be self-centered or demanding is draining. I struggle to navigate my own needs and desires on top of other's. I love being alone. Yes, is it sad drawing in my journal while I eat at a diner alone?... kinda, but I also kind of love it.
I was hoping to get some writing done, but I ended up feeling haunted, like someone was following me, and a need to escape my escape which shifted my plans and led me to unintended places and situations. I arrived at the farm stay, unloaded my stuff and realized there was not a desk to work at except for in the common space. Went back to get some more stuff out of the car and locked myself out of the air bnb with my computer and phone inside. I tried the code one million times with a million variations and nothing. I accepted that I would just have to wait (after crying a lot). I unrolled my yoga mat and blanket near a picnic table and read, pulled tarot cards (one symbolizing being trapped in a cage I built myself), took some pictures and closed my eyes.
Eventually it began to rain lightly so I put all my stuff in the car and walked around the trails surrounding the farm to distract myself. I ran in to an older gentlemen I saw earlier inside the house and asked if he knew the code. He said no, but Louise does and then remembered he had a screen shot of the zoomed in and circled code to get in the house. He told me about Louise and how she, her children and grand children were visiting the goats with the owner. I asked if Louise is his wife. He said no, my wife died. Louise is his partner who he met on match.com. They went out for thai food and never looked back. I am back in the house 4 hours later. Louise comes knocking on my door and says hey, we are drinking wine and roasting marshmallows on the fire. Come join us.
And I said okay, I took a glass of wine out and spent the evening with Louise's family, her daughter and son-in-law and their two teenage daughters. They told me about their lives and travels as Scott tried to cook jiffy pop for Hazel while Martha expressed concerns about the warning label on the back of the disposable popcorn pan. One of the kids was asking for their phone, and Martha told her "make art or go to bed". If I had not gotten locked out, would have I talked to this family? Would they have told me about the good beach where I went swimming under the full moon the next night. I was happy to the point of tears as I packed up snacks and headed to the beach to watch the sunset. I felt like a different person chatting with other guests about their travels and where they are coming from, what we have common and what we don't. I said my goodbyes and listened to signs that felt remarkably timely.
The last leg of the trip was the ferry home. I decided to take a different ferry home, the SS Badger which was a four hour ride versus the two hour express ferry. The Sturgeon full moon was rising as the eclipse portal was closing and it felt like a once in a lifetime experience to be on a ferry for four hours with nothing to do but look up. The whole experience felt like a lynchian alternative universe that deserves it's own page, which I hope to expand on at some point. The SS badger is apparently a kind of midwest icon. Everyone was wearing ferry merch and seemed really into it and I can now can say the SS Badger is 100 percent better. The seats and tables have signs saying please be kind, furniture was built for the ship in the 40s. There is a screening room, game room, a food court, a deck with lawn chairs and bingo. I felt like I was on a disneyland version of a boat that hasn't been updated in more than half a century.
During my trip I read this book called the Wind eye, one of the best young adult books I've read that paints the adults in the story with an insightfully accurate level of immaturity. It's about a ship that time travels through a mist to the viking era illuminating the intelligence of children and their ability to see magic. Reminded of my fascination with knots I felt like I unraveled a secret boat person inside of me. By bookending this trip with what was essentially the titantic in my mind I felt like I'd reached a nautical pinnacle.
One of my favorite things about life is when what I'm reading, observing, learning or experiencing intersect. This happened several times in relation to this trip. I had been researching the word window, which led to finding the young adult book, Wind-Eye from the 70s I referenced earlier. A couple weeks earlier I was hanging out with my sister-in-law and picked up a Wendell Berry book, which I didn't realize was called window poems and starts with the line "The wind's eye to see into the wind." I get to the air bnb and they have many wendell berry books (makes sense). I was flipping through the Christopher Alexander book that felt directly related to my research on prairies. Another book I brought was Cat's Cradle along with a creative research book and within the writing section they reference Cat's Cradle and Ways of seeing, another piece of writing that's been on my list. All of this feels so coincidental and happenstance, unplanned, yet the frame of time connected all of these separate findings.
I receive a newsletter from Root and Ritual that called me out on having everything I need to get where I am going. I drop the keys in the final hour and leave them there. I move onto something else, a fear-based refusal to get on board the last ferry. Which introduced the idea of grammar as the oldest form of magic (from the word grimorie or a book of spells). When I was locked myself out of the air bnb I started reading a book (I picked up earlier with my mom) centered around the idea of grammar as magic. What is magic, but the transformation of one thing into something else, a process of change, shape shifting, and I've always said therapy can feel like magic. It feels like nothing is happening, but then all of a sudden you feel different. So I get on the night ferry and have the best night of my life.
