Sorry...I Was Lost in the Baggage Claim

Hello, hello...
I know it has been some time since I last wrote. I also know about all the promises of weekly updates and of infusing these pages with juicy baggage details and adventures.

But, alas, I have discovered that "intention" is nothing more than my middle name.

After the shows in New Mexico, I decided to give the bags a break.
We were all tired and a little dusty.

The original idea was to spend some time in the desert. To bask on sun-baked rocks....the garment bag spread out like a lizard. But, it was not to be.

I felt a pull towards home. I needed to return to the South. I needed cheese grits and some time with my daughter.

I also needed to lick some wounds. Don't ask. Just know that wide-eyed and bushy-tailed often gets you caught in the middle of the road....under a semi.

I drove cross-country to North Carolina where I spent a lot of time in a rocking chair pondering this whole, crazy summer.

Truth is, I was a little depressed. Things had been tough; not at all the spiritual journey I had been expecting. I felt weighed down. Perhaps it was time to end the tour. Stay put. Go back to work. Put the bags in the garage.

I called my friend in Oklahoma City. The friend whose non-profit organization, Eden (a group that promotes and supports dreams) was bringing the show to town in one short week.

"I can't do this", I said.

"I'm tired. I'm defeated. This hasn't turned out like I thought"...

And then there was DEAD SILENCE as she scooped up my self-pity, only to roll it into a sticky ball, and throw it back in my face.

"Need I remind you I am bringing in your show because you are an inspiration?! THIS is NOT inspirational at all".

Point well taken. It stuck hard.

So.

I snuggled with my daughter a little bit longer, ate ample amounts of cheese-grits, washed them down with some sweet tea, and picked myself up by the boot straps.

I tied down the baggage, oiled the trailer wheels and gave myself a good talking to.

I then headed off to finish what I started: bringing the baggage to others.

As I drove up the gauntlet in Knoxville, across the bridge in Memphis, over the red-rocked hills of Arkansas and onto the plains of Oklahoma, I felt my resolve strengthen with each mile-post.

No one ever said this would be easy. Or that I wouldn't pick up more bags along the way.

In life, we just have to drive on...with, possibly, a little more junk in the trunk than before.

Love, M