Moving Forward and Moving Higher

            “I will show you fear in a handful of dust.” T.S. Eliot

            Sitting for a moment before trudging on, I saw how much dust there really was. It was everywhere: covering our tarps, coating my hair, and after three days it was deep in every pore making me itch. But it wasn’t mud – that sticky brown mess that caught in our wheels and the bottom of our shoes making it hard to move. And it wasn’t sand, sinking the moment we stepped on a patch, seeping its way into our shoes with its grating fingers, making things even more uncomfortable.

            I, of course, had blisters. Jake laughed at my choice of socks that first day as he slapped a Band-Aid on my ankle, Ma grabbing me a pair of her extra-long socks. My pride smarted as I realized I should have just bought a new set before coming out to this valley. Trying to keep as much fabric off my body to allay the heat of the boisterous sun had been a mistake that I would regret for the rest of the week. My attempt at comfort had been futile, I was disheartened, and it made what was to come next even more daunting.

            I’d had reservations before the trip. Contrary to what others had told me about how amazing it would be and the experience I would gain, I could not look forward to the ‘adventure’ before me. I was not prepared for what we were going to do. I was twisted between something I almost wanted and what I honestly thought I truly deserved. My life was conflicted and confusing. There were things I just could not get rid of. I was scared the dark that I was carrying in me would not mix well with the overpowering light I was bound to be surrounded with for four full days. And this part was to be the worst because it was meant to be the most enlightening. I figured in that time of need I would be deserted, left to my own devices while angels lifted the others up. I didn’t deserve the help so facing it alone was going to be hard.

            We watch the boys already moving across another path to meet with us later before turning to our own sandy stretch. That first hill is probably the worst thing we’ve faced in our three days of pushing and pulling. The sand doesn’t want to let us on and some of the girls have given up before we’ve even started. But we all press on. No one really wants to talk but we all sing. As my family leads with every push there is a note, a word to make us stronger and to keep us pressing on.

            At first we all have trouble agreeing on a song or remembering the verses; but as we progress we just sing, whatever comes to mind. We find the breath to sing, the will to carry on. Nearing the end we sing one song over and over, putting everything into one sentence repeated over and over again.

            “I am a Child of God.”

            Six words I have heard so many times, but have never really listened to, never understood what they mean about me and who I am. Now I do. There are things in my life bigger than myself that I won’t be able to handle alone, and I don’t need to. There are so many people just waiting for me to ask for help. I have people that care for me, and there are people that I can care for. I will get hurt and I will hurt others but that’s the way of things and I just need to move forward.

            The boys run to catch us, taking over the carts, and now I am higher than I have ever been before; physically, mentally, and spiritually. There is nothing I cannot do because I know exactly who I am and how I fit into things, I see the bigger picture. I don’t worry about what other people think or what I have to do but rather what I want to do. I am comfortable with myself; so others will be comfortable with me too.

I was elated and care-free; happier than I had been in years. Instead of crushing me into nothing, the light filled me and infused itself within me. I was lighter than air and I need to share it with someone. The other girls around me must have understood this too because we all found someone to talk with, to understand with. We all came back to the simple innocent beings that we were long before our trip, before the complications of life and teenagerdom piled on top of us. Everything was stripped away from us when we walked our way across that field and things were uninvolved and beautiful again.

            It’s been some time since that day and I have stepped back along that road into the dark parts of my life but those visits are fleeting and far between. I no longer find the need or will to cave into myself anymore. I keep faced forward with the rear-view mirror down. There is no need to dwell on past memories and mistakes, the crushing pain of things gone wrong. In the words of Walt Disney we all need to just “keep moving forward.” And that is what I’ll do: I will move on, because there is no point in bringing myself down when I can be lighter than air.