Sage Advice from Ciona Rouse

My favorite swimming hole is at the base of a waterfall on the Fiery Gizzard Trail. It requires a hearty hike to get there. Several Sycamore trees tower nearby, so it is aptly named Sycamore Falls. The water is cold. Colder than expected in the heat of summer. Last month, four young women were standing up to their ankles in it, debating whether or not to brave the chill. They DID eventually go for it, and I'd like to think the kids and I inspired them as we deftly stripped to our swimsuits and swam to rock outcroppings directly below the small falls, allowing the deafening water to pound on our heads.

It is an entire Experience, and almost every time I go, I get a message - usually while floating on my back, looking up at a circle of blue sky and clouds bordered by the tops of tall trees. Once, the message was “Don’t play small.” Another time, it practically screamed, “YOU ARE A CHILD OF THE UNIVERSE,” and I FELT the truth of that in such a profound way, it brought me to tears, and I promised (out loud even), “I won’t forget! I won’t forget!"

The most recent time, it was just “Do things.” I laughed when I heard it. Not sure exactly what it meant, but shortly thereafter, as my hiking/camping buddy Annie and I sat on the rocky shore of the falls, talking about life, the universe, and all the important things, I mentioned my dream of traveling with Workaway. “I want to do all the things!” I told her. It was only then that I understood the message: “Do things."

And so, now I’m about to embark on a journey which is one more step in my attempt to do things and NOT let anxiety keep me small and safe. I’m going to drive to Vermont, take photos for a traveling circus, then drive on to Montreal to visit Olivia. I’ll take my camping hammock and stay at HipCamp sites along the way.

I woke up with fear this morning, wondering what the hell was I thinking!? Logically, I realize taking a road trip is a small thing to do, and years ago, I wouldn't have had a second thought about it. This bizarre anxiety has kept me small and safe for too long, and if I need a little encouragement, I'll just re-read this Ciona Rouse poem:

Do the Crazy Thing

Do the crazy 

thing 

The hard to imagine but 

somehow you did 

thing 

The brings you to your knees 

thing

The no one would ever 

do it that way 

thing

The safety net would not 

even matter

thing

The it could kill you

but not trying is 

another kind of death

thing

The thing

on your heart, do it

and let them gasp

right before they call it

a thing of wonder