Silence.

Only me. The typewriter clicks half-speed.

Echoes in the hall where stories meet.

Pages tear, lines crossed, glued and rearranged

to suit the mood and circumstance.

The silence breaks.

It is rare.

The chords sing and I circle the drain.

Deeper I sink. Is this real?

Silence and symphony exist in their own lines.

You speak. The chords. I sink.

Flooding, raining harder.

You come in,

wrap me up.

I go to the attic

until next year.

Eagle eye; I see it all.

I see nothing.

I’m drowning in what I thought you were

slipping to the source; nay, to be disposed.

Crushing, capsizing; who am I?

This was nothing. This is nothing,

but that’s not true.

Swirling, holding it all close.

Silence.

Nothing.

The waterfall; the surge becomes still.

Chords.

To tell you this, I’ll set my grave.

Maybe it’s what I need

to stay out of the drain.

Expansion has been somewhat painful during these last few days. Literally painful, as I walked across beaches through soft sand, left knee buckling and left foot collapsing. My hamstrings felt like they were going to tear. Kilometer after kilometer, day after day. That’s what happens when you go from couch to 15Km through the sand as fast as you can, in chacos. I should have seen it coming, especially with the weight of my pack, day one, full of supplies for the next 6 days.

I felt mentally calm, however. I had moments of tears, but only because I’ve made a habit of not holding emotions in over the past few months. It is a good feeling to cry freely when you’re alone on the trail and have a legitimate reason to do so: 30km in, 20Kg pack and pain…and where is the campsite already?

Actually, that day didn’t inspire tears, it was the following day. The following day also inspired Hitchiking to avoid more sand; what a treat. I decided it didn’t matter if I actually walked the entire Cape to Cape, as long as I was moving towards the goal and having fun while doing it. The two old fishermen I met were pretty fun.

The Cape to Cape Track in Western Australia is either 120Km or 135Km. Online sources gave different numbers. It hugs the coast and flows through beaches and forest. The beach feels more dominant than the forest, but I don’t think it was in actuality; that’s just the pain speaking. I camped and walked alone for 6 days. My mental state was good; I allowed it to not be good when it made sense, and returned to good feelings quickly.

I arrived at random spots in the trees or on the beach and set up camp for each night. One night, I was close to brush and concerned about snakes. I sat and meditated, listening for each rustling sound around me and letting my brainstem adjust and receive each signal with lessening reactivity as the minutes passed. The forest was busy. I only had one dream of being bitten by a snake that night, and slept calmly the rest of the night. Progress.

I learned how to enjoy the journey more during that walk. I let go of needing to get to any particular place in any particular timing. It felt good to have nowhere to be.

Back in Perth, I thought of the fundraising I still have to do. I sat this morning and lined up the energy for the day. A good conversation, ease of finding the clothing I needed for my trip, and a way to raise the money for Bangladesh. I found a dress easily first thing, then shoes to match. Then, scrubs. $20USD for two sets and as I entered the shop, the woman and I started talking, at length. Good. I mentioned my reason for buying the scrubs, and she began telling me how they donate to doctors going on service trips to Africa. Interesting. I waited. Eventually, I asked if the business would be willing to donate. Yes! She said. She pointed me in the direction of another business to ask.

At this point, I said to myself, “I love being rejected.” I was trying some Viktor Frankl I had learned the day before. I tried several other shops. No one said no! It started to get fun to ask. Started. It wasn’t a game yet. Either way, I was happy to be conquering one of my great fears and embracing an activity I had solidly avoided in the past: asking people for money.

I’m still struggling with honesty. I’m doing my best to present the version of me who says what she thinks and asks for what she needs, but when you’ve held yourself back in fear that someone/everyone will leave you, it’s hard to make a quick switch. It isn’t hard probably, I am just afraid to try. I am still afraid that they will leave. Nonetheless, I will not choose to make my new home the bottom of the drain. So, I’ll keep trying to break the silence.