The rain came. I rolled a joint, and kicked back in the hammock. Through the trees, the sky shifted and the clouds turn pink. I pulled my knees to my chest, and rocked back and forth. A memory came to me.
Two years ago. I was in a bistro near my house. I sat near the big front window and drank red wine. My eyes watched the sky, the passing people, the flowers blooming across the street. My chest was warm and my cheeks pink. Happy thoughts swirled through me, and I felt light. I was thinking about traveling.
I saw images of India, yoga, meditation. Creativity electrified my heart, and I was full, warm. Yellow was everywhere. Yellow sunlight, yellow love. Answers. Peace.
Two years later, swinging in my hammock, I remembered this with such clarity. The rain poured and the waves crashed, a surprise deluge in the hot season. I closed my eyes and returned to that bistro. I found my younger self sitting in the front window, drinking red wine. I merged into her body. “You did it,” I told her, this girl dreaming about her future. “And it was perfect. Perfect.”
I know that the girl I was then desperately wanted to travel. She stared out that window and willed her spirit into the future. She made it good. She saw visions and cultivated joyous feelings until she was smiling, slightly buzzed, and sure of her decision. Shortly thereafter, she left Seattle, her year-long journey underway.
Back in the hammock, eyes closed, I stayed with that girl for a moment. I reassured her from here, the future, and told her she made the right decision. I let her feel me, and me her. Then I returned.
The rain stopped. The cicadas chirped quietly in the trees. Waves crashed over the rocks, and the air was cool.
So many doors have opened. I am a summer house, sunlight streaming through my windows. Open and free. This year has been transformative and satisfying. Exactly what I wanted. Color and growth and laughter. Freedom and understanding and letting go. Falling in love and trusting life.
Follow your dreams. That is why we are here.