The wound is the place where the light enters you.
-Rumi
The first thing we were taught when we were young,
Was that each person is unique and special.
We are all different,
But our differences are what make the world bright and interesting.
On the playground, we distinguished each other by the games we liked to play,
Whether it was kickball or playing with dolls.
We did not care about gender or skin color.
We were too young to know about sexual orientation.
Our political knowledge only extended to knowing a mighty president existed,
And ruled over our great country.
Religion did not arise in conversation.
We cared only about ribbons and bows,
Four leaf clovers and the grass between our toes.
At what point did we begin to notice the variations in the color of skin?
When did we begin to believe it was strange to love someone like us,
Or that differences in our beliefs should divide us?
When did the bullying begin,
The blatant disregard for other’s feelings,
The cruel empowerment of a few to believe others are below them?
When did boys pulling pigtails become men unbuttoning blouses?
When did girls start painting their eyes and telling lies?
When did they begin to dwindle away or expand before our eyes,
As food became an escape or an enemy?
When did other’s expectations begin to weigh on our minds,
And cause life itself to feel heavy and wearisome?
As our lives crumbled, we would swear we were fine.
Meanwhile scars began to appear on arms,
Alcohol burned down throats,
And love became only a word instead of comforting arms.
We compared ourselves to one another,
In competitions where no one won,
And we judged one another for trivial things,
Things far more trivial than the games we played on the playground.
We judged each other for skin color, for love, for basic human beliefs,
We judged each other for our capabilities, our appearance, our family income,
We judged each other because we couldn’t face the judgment
That we inflicted upon ourselves,
And we finally created a world where no one felt at home,
No one felt they measured up,
And all of us were desperately looking for love,
Normally in all the wrong places.
Somewhere along the way,
During this collection of experiences called “life,"
We forgot how to love each other,
And so, in turn, forgot how to love ourselves.
I don’t know how to fix what it feels like we broke,
But it probably starts with us,
Each of us, individually,
Accepting one another for who we are,
And then, in turn, accepting ourselves.
It probably begins with loving others without constrains or expectations,
And therefore loving ourselves the same way.
It probably starts with extending words of kindness to those around us,
And so then also speaking those kind words to ourselves.
It probably starts small, with a hopeful outlook towards a brighter tomorrow,
And then working every day towards that goal.
I’m not sure if we will ever fix what we broke,
Here on earth, where we have been pushing boundaries until they snapped
Since the moment we arrived,
But maybe, if we focus on just that,
How it took all of us,
All of us brilliantly unique individuals,
All of us hurting, broken, lovely humans,
All of us to destroy what we were given,
Then maybe, just maybe,
We can rebuild something beautiful together.
For beauty comes, not from the absence of brokenness,
But from the light that is able to shine through,
When we put our broken pieces together again.
While we were making dinner, Joseph’s sister, Joanna, called to ask if we wanted to visit her and her husband, Dan, in Virginia. They moved to Leesburg nearly six months ago, and although they live only an hour and a half away, we had not yet had the chance to visit. Joseph is about to start graduate school, and I am about to leave for a trip, so we did not have much availability in our schedules. When Joseph told Joanna this, she proposed we visit the next day.
We agreed. After Joseph got off of the phone, I proposed that we turn this visit into a longer stay. We have made it our quest to visit all 50 states plus Washington, D.C., and this was an opportunity to cross Virginia off of our list.
It may sound spur of the moment, but after planning for a two-and-a-half week Colorado road trip in only a few days, this seemed almost simple.
So, we packed snacks we had left over from our last trip, stuffed our clothes into overnight bags, and planned for where we wanted to visit during our trip.
To officially say that we visited a state, there are a couple of things we have agreed we need to do. We want to walk a main street, eat (or drink) at a local restaurant, hike at a national park, and visit a tourist or scenic spot. Only after completing all of these tasks can we visit a Starbucks and purchase our souvenir: A mug from the “Been There” series.
For this trip, we knew we would cross off the main street and local eatery with Joanna and Dan. After some research, we decided to hike at Shenandoah National Park and then visit Luray Caverns. It was an extra two hours of driving away from home, but we knew it would be worth it.
On Wednesday, we arrived in Virginia during the hottest part of the afternoon. As soon as we stepped out of the car, I was reminded that the hot and muggy weather in Maryland does not even compare to the moist heat in Virginia.
Joanna and Dan were both still at work when we arrived. Luckily, Joanna had sent us some ideas of things to do. We went to Ball’s Bluff Battlefield Regional Park, one of her favorite hiking spots. The park is the site where the Battle of Balls Bluff during the Civil War took place. It was interesting walking around the silent, serene trails, knowing it was a spot drenched in bloody history. This was a spot where the Confederate Army had won the fight. According to the American Battlefield Trust, the Union had 1,002 casualties that day.
After hiking, we went to visit Joanna and Dan at their apartment. It was an exciting reunion. We have not seen either of them in months, and the four of us have not spent time alone together in almost a year.
Joanna and Dan treated us to SideBar, a restaurant in downtown Leesburg. Like many of the businesses on the street, the restaurant was situated in renovated homes built in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. The food was delicious. Our favorite dish was the sweet potato fries, which were topped with candied bacon and brie, and served with a maple sriracha sauce.
During dinner, the four of us got to talking about the Black Lives Matter movement and how it has affected the lives of those closest to us. It seems like so many people have different opinions on this movement. The four of us all fully support the peaceful protests, though we know that if we really want to see change happen, it starts with us in our personal lives. Joanna and Dan had a number of recommended podcasts for us to listen to, including 1619, an audio series created by the New York Times to enlighten listeners about the history of slavery in America and how it has impacted our country today. 1619 was the year the first enslaved Africans were brought to this country. What the four of us agreed on most is that, through all of this, the best way we can help is to educate ourselves on what has happened and what is happening in America, and then we can know better what we can do to help.
“We’ve learned that we have to speak up,” Joanna told us. “It’s not enough to just not say or do racist things. We have to call others out when they are doing something racist. And we have to be comfortable looking at ourselves and discovering where we may have biases, too.”
After dinner, we walked along the main street, taking in the sights and soaking in the historical significance of the place. We passed by homes that had been built centuries ago and signs commemorating the significant moments that had taken place there. The most notable things were the Civil War artifacts and commemorative items. According to the Thomas Balch Library website, Leesburg (originally called George Town) was built in 1740; it was named after the Lee family in 1758. We stopped at a sign in front of an old house on the street, where Robert E. Lee was treated for battle wounds he incurred during the Second Battle of Manassas (this battle occurred a little less than a year after the Battle of Balls Bluff – it was also a Confederate victory). As we walked, we passed by more historical markers, including Confederate statutes that, according to Joanna and Dan, the local government is debating removing.
On our way back to our car, we passed by a house on the market that the real estate agent, who was sitting on the front porch, claimed to be haunted. I grudgingly agreed to look around the house with my enthusiastic companions. We did not personally witness any paranormal activity, but the vibes in the home were disturbing to say the least, and I was grateful when we decided to leave.
We returned to the apartment, where we relaxed and spent more time with Joseph’s family, my soon-to-be relatives. I am so very grateful for their hospitality. It felt good to finally have the chance to catch up with them and what has been happening in their lives. Besides the fact that Joseph is more than the man I ever dreamed of marrying, I cannot believe I am so lucky that his family members are some of the kindest, most generous people I have ever met. I am very excited to be a part of this family.
When we awoke the following morning, Joanna and Dan had already left for work. Joseph and I ate a quick breakfast, and then we packed our belongings and headed out for another day of adventure.
The drive to Shenandoah was almost like déjà vu. The mountains in the distance were reminiscent of the Colorado landscape we had been traveling through not long ago. Despite these mountains being smaller than their western counterparts, they were still magnificent. They stretched so high into the sky that their tips were hidden away by the white clouds.
We drove up to Stony Man Mountain, a decent hike with breathtaking views of the world below. Little Stony Man had the greatest view; from there we could see Skyline Drive winding through the trees far below. We continued hiking to the top of the summit where we were greeted with, not a view of the world below, but that of the one above. Instead of looking out at mountains and trees, we walked straight into a cloud. A white haze engulfed us while a cool mist ran across our hot, sweaty skin, shielding us from the oppressive Virginia heat. It was not the finale we were expecting to our hike, but it was one of the neatest experiences I have had at the top of a mountain.
Our next stop was Luray Caverns. I had visited the attraction when I was a young child, and while I remembered very few specifics, I could recall how fantastic the views were. Joseph, who had never been, was more skeptical.
“Where are the caverns,” he asked as we drove into the parking lot. “Are they behind the buildings?”
“They’re beneath us,” I told him with a smile. I could tell that I had piqued his interested, but he still balked at the $30 entrance fee.
As soon as we stepped into the cavern, the air chilled around us as if we had been plunged into cold water. We traveled deeper into the darkness, gazing in wonder at the rocks growing up around us. The packet we had been given for our self-guided tour told us that the caverns have been growing, inch by inch, over hundreds of millions of years. At every turn, Joseph and I tapped on each other’s shoulders and pointed to different, incredible sights. We gazed together in wonder at Mirror Lake, the largest body of water in Luray Caverns. The water projects a perfect mirror image of the ceiling above, which gives it the illusion that it is several feet deep and filled with stalagmites (when, in actuality, it has only 20 inches of water at its deepest point). Thin rock formations hung from the ceiling like veils while deep hollows plunged into darkness beside us. In one room, we were greeted by ethereal music, played like a music box from an organ that uses the speleothems around it to produce the different notes.
“This was definitely worth $30,” Joseph told me, and I beamed.
On our way home, we visited Starbucks to buy lattes and our Virginia mug, the reward for our efforts. By the time we got home, we were tired and hungry, but the burgers in the fridge and pint of ice cream waiting in the freezer were a welcome change from the makeshift meals we had made during our road trip in Colorado. I had not expected to go traveling again so soon after our last trip, but this short little adventure had been more than worth it.
And just like always, I feel like our travels taught me something. Once again, I had to step out of my comfort zone to face and experience the world around me. There are quite a few alarming things happening in our country right now, one being the realization of the treatment of some of our fellow Americans. But as we discussed in our conversations with Joanna and Dan at dinner, one of the best things we can do is to educate ourselves on the topic, and then to not sit idly by when we see injustices take place. One of the best ways I have learned to do this is through my travels. This trip gave me the opportunity to have real conversations with people, and to take a step into history. It gave me a chance to catch just a glimpse of where all of this suffering, inequity and discrimination began. And now this blog and the life I have returned to are my opportunities to use that knowledge to do my part in creating change.
As Joseph said on the top of the Stony Man Mountain, “We are officially adventurers now.” Adventurers are people who seek new experiences, who step outside of their comfort zone in the pursuit of understanding what life truly is. Adventurers are those who take risks, even if it puts them in harm’s way, to create lives that are truly meaningful, for themselves and others. Adventurers seek to find beauty where others may miss it, and along the way, they attempt to connect with other people and build friendships in unlikely places.
We are adventurers, and this blog is just one small attempt to create a little space for beauty, connection and inspiration for this world around us.
