march doesn’t hurt like it used to

IMG_2546IMG_2631I used to despise the month of march. i always felt so trapped. So in-between the innocence of the first snowfall, and typically speaking, too many dank days away from a true warming sun. also, Someone I love very much, died in march.
last year I purposely set out on a quest in an attempt to transform my painful association with this month into something else. I knew the memories could never be totally eradicated, but I thought maybe they could change color or become softer or further away or something. So, I decided on a solo trip to Iceland. We were living in Brooklyn at the time and I was sad, stressed out and had many questions about lots of things. I knew that I desperately needed wide, clean, infinite breathing space. And I needed alarming quiet in order to think ~ to rest. I knew that in spite of my willfulness to hang on and not change, my own personal landscape was evolving, and however unclear and uncertain I still was about specifics, it was important to me that i remain open and move forward with a confident { Latin ‘con fides’ ~ ‘with faith’ } heart and a clear mind. While in iceland, I chose to stay far away from the city and just let the sky and instinct gently propel me from place to place. each day I would set out to explore with my standard provisions: my phone { for security but no service }, a paper map, a pen, cashews and water. I just walked and walked. And while I wouldn’t see people for hours at a time, I found great company and ‘conversation’ with a herd of Icelandic Horses*. I talked to myself, sang, cried, and felt insanely awake. One night around midnight I trekked out in hopes of a glimpse of the Northern Lights. According to the locals, conditions were promising. I tried to envelop myself in the blackest part of the landscape. I walked toward the dark with my feet crunching on the white, white snow and as I looked up I saw more stars than I have ever seen in my life. these celestial orbs were so bright that I felt I could almost reach up and pluck them from the sky like apples. I stopped walking. I stood still. The quiet was so loud it drowned out the voices in my head. The only sound I heard was my own heart beating. This turned out to be the only clue I could find to assure me that I had not, in fact, died and gone to heaven.

*The Icelandic horses are released each spring and are able to run free until fall. There is a beautiful film about this arranged phenomenon. http://www.herdiniceland.com/

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2 Comments

  1. Laurie

    Thank you so much for this beautiful post and for the photos. Your heart is so big and beautiful and your words are very touching. I’m proud of you. Truly inspiring. Sounds like magic.

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