Putting gas in my car today, I watched two majestic birds flying above the parking lot. Their wings widespread as they glided on air currents, occasionally flapping their wings, rising high into the air, circling, circling. I gazed at them until I could no longer see them, and then my thoughts turned to the trip I was about to take.
I'm in New Mexico, at a conference I initially wanted to attend with my teaching partner. He backed out, however, two weeks ago, and I'm solo. I've been pretty mad at him and about having to drive down here by myself. I missed the beauty of the situation.
At each stop, I saw different birds, wings outstretched, soaring, gliding, dipping, and climbing on air currents. I was enthralled with their grace, their beauty, their independence.
Because so many birds along my trip were engaging in the same behaviors, I starting thinking about independence and freedom. Much like the birds I watched, I too spread my wings, glided on air currents, and soared as I drove to New Mexico. Twenty years ago, I thought nothing of hopping in my car and driving somewhere for the weekend. I would push myself to see how far I could drive without stopping or how fast I could go. I didn't worry about speed traps or tickets, I enjoyed the freedom of the drive.
I drive long distances so rarely anymore, I have forgotten what it's like to be by myself in a vehicle. I sang to my favorite songs, talked to myself, and thought...thought...thought. I was flying free.
While my social awkwardness will prohibit me from making a companion this week, I'm okay. I will enjoy my freedom from domesticity and my independence. I have my own vehicle; I can go where I wish. I can do what I want. And while I will miss my family terribly, I will continue to fly free, to recapture a part of the me from 20 years ago.
