My Journey West pt. 2

           

My orientation group

The crisp Arizona air greets me as I attempt to crawl out of my sleeping bag to start our long day. Creek, a fellow student, joyfully sings as he rouses the rest of our group from their cozy sleeping spots. I pull my camouflage bivy sac back over my head to hide from Creek’s, all too happy, chorus lines. Poking my head out, I remind him that it is in fact 4:38 A.M. and he answers my crabbiness in song. Then a giggle escapes my sleepy body, I agree to get out of the warmth of my bag and join the rest of the group, soon, after coffee. Backcountry coffee is always a treat, a wonderful energy giving steamy cup, no cream or sugar, just caffeine. It invigorates a morning grump such as myself with enough spirit to start the day, and at the end of the hike--it’s just comfort.

                I turn on the red light on my head lamp and start to gather my needed gear for the day. I roll up my sleeping bag and compress it tightly into its sack. The smell of the forest soothes me as I perform my morning routine and brush my teeth, then help take down the tarps. Everyone around me busy cooking, cleaning, and packing. The light of the sunrise now begins to join my group and I, bringing to life the beautiful meadow, and the army of strong tall trees standing guard over us. Awe, is the only word suited to describe the feeling I had standing there, watching the sun rise, and the group of nine other students -- who I now call friends. I am proud to be right here in this green and serene place, with these amazing people, and my new chance for a change from the old ways. 

Creek and Emily under our tarp

A moment passes and a profound sorrow fills me. It has been eleven days since I last talked to my children. The sweet sound of my youngest child singing nursery rhymes or the cute chipmunk voice of my middle child would soothe my soul. My eldest has an understanding that well surpasses is young age, I close my eyes and can feel his arms around me. I miss them more than pen could adequately express on paper. I crave even the sound of their voices on the other end of a phone, or a letter with words of love and encouragement. I never thought I could miss anyone or anything so deeply. This is a part of the transformation, a challenge to stop the insanity of my old life.  I spend another moment in tranquil meditation and find the strength that I hold inside my soul. The sky is bright enough to turn my headlamp off, and I stare at the few lingering stars, those party animals, beautifully gracing the sky until after dawn. I turn and walk towards my friends and join them for breakfast before we embark on today’s amazing journey.

The monsoons were upon us!

We continued on our journey, trekking miles through the breathtaking Arizona wilderness. From the mountains that towered around me to the prickly Cats Claw waiting to attack us on the desert floor; we carried our heavy packs and hiked and learned about the treasures of this foreign land. The natural history itself is overwhelming. I had never imagined the desert to have such a complicated ecosystem. September is an odd time in Arizona. Some days reached scorching temperatures, while others were frigid and wet with big monsoon storms sweeping in. I learned to appreciate water in a way that made it sacred. Having grown up in the great lakes region we always had plenty of water, streams, and rivers. Now I sit on a rock and attempt to pump water out from a puddle so my companions and I have enough to get us to camp. So much in my life has changed. I stare out over the massive red rock that I am perched on and hope for the strength to make it another day.

yes, we actually were pumping water
out of a muddy puddle.

     

                Since I came to Arizona and started school. It has not been easy, it has been a challenge, and a difficult transition. From the moment I left Chicago and started my new life here, in Prescott I have worked hard to make this dream become a reality.

I think back to the days I would sit and the tears would run down my cheeks and onto the ground, and I felt helpless and trapped. I think back to my orientation and the struggle of being away from home, my children and having to build my muscles and courage. The start of the semester was no easier, homework and the lack of money pressured me in ways that made me wish I could give up and return to the place I wanted so desperately to leave.  I wiped up my tears and carried on. This was my dream after all. I was finally living it.

Next challenge was waiting for my children to finally arrive, and be with me, after such a long and hard separation. We would talk daily, but there was still a dark void in my heart. I have never been away from them for more than a few days. It had been months since I held them. I am thrilled at the adventures all of us will have together in our new home. I hear my children’s words encouraging me, loving me, supporting me, over and over. It is my dream, and it is happening, it is real, and I am living it. No matter how difficult the challenge, I never gave up, I never will. There is no worse prison than the one we make for ourselves with imagined bars created by our fears and self-doubt. I sat tapping my fingers on my kitchen table, and finally I heard a truck pull up! They are home, here finally, after four long months. They are home.

           

I found my wings.

     “Hurry up guys! I’m going to be late!” I yell. We all grab our backpacks pile into the Jeep and I drive away from our little house on the north side of Prescott. The sun in beating on the windshield and the truck seems stuffy, so I roll down the windows. The mountains in the distance are a peaceful site to me every morning. They tower high into the sky and touch the heavens. No more sky scrapers to stare at, just the majesty that nature herself has created. I pull up to my son’s school and my phone rings. He jumps out of the passenger side and forgets his hoody and an assignment, possibly, some crumpled white paper. I yell for him, but he is already too far into the tangled mess of high school students to hear me. I answer the call on its final ring. “Hi Daddy,” I cheerfully say. He asks about the children and about school. I happily report all good things; with the exception of the last few days of rather cool fifty degree weather. I let him talk to his two grand-daughters and they energetically tell him about their new world and the wonders of the southwest. The jeep is filled with lively chatter and giggles. My youngest recites the alphabet twice before the phone is returned to me. After a while of me talking about my classes and about how much I would like for him to visit I ask how the world up north looks and he simply replies “white.”

Together Again

My Journey West Pt.1

             

Maddy and Syrenity in Indiana

White. The whole town is covered in a frigid, soft and white blanket. I walk over to my candy apple red mustang, with the sound of the snow crunching after every reluctant step. My deep purple fleece gloves wipe the tears from my rosy cheeks as I watch a few snowflakes make their journey to the ground. I have become restless and I am in desperate need of a change, it is more than the cold, it is my soul that is searching for its path in this world. A life lived merely longing for dreams is that of a ghost haunting the same halls, day after day, trapped in time.  A shiver runs through my body as I brush off the remnants of last night’s storm, revealing more of the bright red car hiding under this wintery blanket. I sigh and my breath forms a white puff that dissipates as it floats up to the heavens. The chill of the winter’s unforgiving winds only adds to the bitterness that has been growing stronger and taking over my heart—it is broken and lost.

                I return to my little house, after all the snow from my car was brushed away, to be greeted by the heated sounds of a sibling quarrel. My snowy gloves clean the last drops of evidence from my tear streaked cheeks. The depression that has corrupted my soul is kept safely inside the vault of my mind. The children shouldn’t have to deal with my downfalls, and I pretend to be happy for their sake, and my own. Smiling when all you want to do is cry is a theatrical mastery, and I have well mastered that act, as well as a few others.

                I close the door a little louder so the bickering would, with all hope, end with my presence. “Are you ready?” I ask. I just receive blank stares followed by hurried explanations of why there was arguing in the first place. Another sigh escapes me. Seemingly simple everyday moments overwhelm me and I struggle to keep my patience and my temper. It is time for the children to begin their long school day; it will soon be time for my dark and robust friend to join me. A little bit of an addiction, but hot coffee on an unforgiving cold Midwestern day is almost a necessity. Any comfort at this point is welcomed and needed. In a flash I see colorful hats and gloves being put on by little hands and I grab my jacket. 

“We are ready mom, but do we have to go to school today?” said my middle daughter.  “Of course,” I reply.  We head back into the cold world. The mustang groans as I pull it out of the driveway. I speed up a little and fishtail just a bit, enough to get a frantic scream from my middle child, a giggle from my preschooler, and a look of dismay from my eldest and only boy. “Lighten up guys!” I say with that rehearsed smile. My heart aches as I watch them, happy and unknowing of the pain I am fighting inside. Guilt rushes over me for the lies I tell with my faked happiness, even though it is for the sake of theirs.

Snow Angel

               Life has been challenging for me for a long time. I viewed my dreams as childish things, and now I regret that outlook. I am nearing thirty years of age; time is slipping out of my hands like the soft granules of beach sand. It took time and wisdom to realize that there is nothing foolish about chasing dreams. College and a career take time, if I do not act soon, all the sand will be gone. Too many people get trapped in the boxes that society has built and forget that their heart holds the key to happiness. We hurry through life and follow the paths we should according to others and dismiss the path that calls us. I believe that every person has a gift or talent and the ability to make the world a better place using what they are naturally gifted at.

              The southwest has been a dream of mine for many years. I have a long love of the desert all due to the many childhood summers which I spent exploring them in Mexico. The sun on my skin, the mountains covered in browns and reds with prickly pears in plentiful amounts. Sitting watching the sky and all of the golden colors that helped tuck the sleepy sun away in the evening, making way for a million twinkling diamonds and a bright Cheshire smile to send me to bed. The desert is a captivating place, which my heart calls home.

               I have spent many years now wishing to move to Arizona. I have never been there physically, and yet I feel my spirit drawn to that part of the country. I decide it is time to start following my own heart, let go of the insanity that has destroyed me, and listen to the calling that has been too long ignored.

I return home after taking the children to school and immediately start to make a cup of hot coffee. A sense of purpose has filled me; it is time to act now. The moment has come where I decided that I can no longer live the way that has brought me to this point of utter despair. It is a tragedy to see my life, my character, and my talents slip away. I walk over to my computer after adding cream and sugar to my steamy mug. The aroma of the freshly brewed drink fills the house. I walk over to my computer and sit down in the large black chair. I take a deep breath as the computer boots up, nervousness replaces the sorrow, it’s time to find happiness.

               I have always dreamed of going to college, as long as I can remember I have had a desire to earn my degree and have a career I am passionate about. As a child I vowed to work as a marine biologist and help keep the animals of this planet safe from the destruction that is caused by humans. As I grew that dream became bolder and more defined. Conservation biology fascinates me. How can I make this dream a reality? I am a single mother with three kids that have disabilities. I have worked very hard over the past six years to help turn their disabilities into strengths, and they are all doing so well. Is it possible that now is a good time to follow my heart and go to college? Show them, and myself, that it is never too late to accomplish a goal?

              I know that Northern Arizona University has a forestry program. I start my search there, then move to a general search of college in Arizona. I scroll and come across Prescott College. I have a very close friend, and the mother of my partner that owns a house in Chino Valley. I look up the distance between Chino Valley and Prescott Arizona and find that it is only 18 miles. My heart skips a beat, they will be moving there as soon as their house is sold. This means that I could still live close to friends and have some sort of support system in place to help me with my children. Some things are not mere coincidences—some things are simply meant to be.

Syrenity loves the snow!

              I click on the link that takes me to the Prescott College web site and begin to explore this amazing school. I quickly find that this school is perfect for me. It has strong programs in the field of environmental science; it is also an experiential school that is very self-directed. The programs and opportunities take my breath away. There are many filed courses, some are even international. The school starts all students with a three week backcountry wilderness expedition, I am amazed. I hit the apply now link, my heart skips a beat, I must try if nothing else, just see if I would even get accepted into the program. I will have the time between now and when I receive my letter from the school either accepting or denying my application to talk with my children, family and friends about this important change. I would have to move fifteen-hundred miles away from home, with three kids, and start a new life on my own. The anxiety of this rushes over me, then it is accompanied with excitement. It is thrilling to have even the thought of this grand opportunity. I have lived in Chicago my whole life. It is a vast city that swallows you, if you let it. I moved to Northern Indiana for a change, and to take my children out of that busy city. Two hours was far, yet not far enough to remove me from the turmoil of my past and the stagnant pool that has become my present. Still, if you have lived in a place your whole life, it is home. It is the place I know best and I have my parents there, as well as all of my closest and most supportive friends.

              The time for a decision has come, one sunny afternoon, about a month after my application was submitted to Prescott College, I receive an excited call. My entrance counselor Carmen happily informs me that I have been accepted and not only have I been accepted but I also received an eight-thousand dollar scholarship for each year to help pay my tuition! I feel my eyes fill with tears, the wet drops roll down my face. I wipe them speechless and overwhelmed. Tears of joy! I haven’t cried from happiness in so long, too long.  I am waiting impatiently here to give my children the amazing news; they have been just as excited as I am about the next step in our journey. I was worried for a long time about how this would affect them. I worried foolishly because they urged me to follow my dreams. I can’t wait to tell them!