Marfa, TX. Standing at the top of a hill, legs dangling off bike pedals and heart beating from the bumpy trek, a landscape all around me of distant mountains and endless grass and bushes begging for both water and sun. The sky is pushing out its last neon cast of light before it fills with more stars than black.
Everything is so expansive, I think. So possible. So clear. So protected.
It must be this place and its magic. Or maybe it’s just the time away from the hustle. I need to move here, I consider. My children are doomed in a land of cement and buzzing screens, I remind myself. I need to at the least throw my phone in the desert and reclaim my life as a free range cactus fairy. That’s the answer, I decide.
But, a tiny shift of my gaze away from the landscape and into the windows of the houses that dot its edges and I know what we all know, deep down.
Even there, within this glowing wild environment, people are stuck inside their own bubbles experiencing their own dramas, their own fears, their own closing-in. Even there people are distracting themselves from living courageously and congruently. Even there people are trying not to hear the loud whispers of what their health needs from them and about the holes in their fabric of integrity.
Facebook lives even in Marfa. Stupid tv and junk food definitely live there too. Binge drinking and social drama, check. Busy lives and packed schedules and career pressures and kids yelling “momma,” check check.
We can focus our critical attention for our tendency towards distraction, ill health, and human disconnection on the rat race, our busy lives, traffic, work, children, marriage, Facebook, technology all we want.
But, come on.
No matter if we live in Marfa, have an incredibly conscious lifestyle where we only eat plants grown from our own soil with our own home grown worms tending to its nutrients, meditate every day, read books on how to be better at everything, raise kind kids, and claim to be balanced people ... even then, we’d still be humans with a tendency to get stuck in our perceived stuckness.
It’s simple. And, yes, holy hell, it’s scary. But, I dare you today to metaphorically open your window. Take a gander outside. Stop scolding yourself for being stuck or yelling at your kids or being a grumpy grump. Remember that this is a human tendency and your obligation in life is to stir the blood inside of you so that you can be at your knees with gratitude for the hard work it is to simply live well.
Whatever has you stuck, even if it’s fatal or awful or too much, you deserve to at least open a window and look outside. You never know, the drama may not be able to handle all that neon light.