Your Perception

I hate weddings.  When I say hate I don't mean it in the weddings are boring, archaic and a general drag. I mean hate in terms of wanting to slit my throat with a dull knife to get out of it.  Hate them.  But I went to a wedding, or rather had an adventure, where it was magical, lovely and beautiful.  This post isn't about weddings, or my core belief I'll never find love, but about my journey to and from this wedding and the self discovery that happened.

I try to keep my blog rather anonymous so I won't name names here, but a little backstory on what brought me to the Wheel of Bliss retreat center in Hot Springs, North Carolina for a Hippie Mountain Wedding.  I met my friends who married as they were just beginning their journey together.  One was having his 30th birthday party and invited all of his thousands of Facebook friends.  I'd found him, as he was a Christian blogger, and had been following him for sometime but we'd never met.  I saw the party was in Minneapolis, realized that I'd know no one and clearly be the oldest there by a good 15+ years (I'm probably being kind to myself here)....GOING!  I knew he liked yoga so I reached out and asked if he'd like a private class for his birthday.  This morphed into renting a phenomenal space in NE Minneapolis, private candlelit class with a theme of "I am enough".  With the exceptions of the 2 classes I taught at his wedding, I still rank this as the most powerful class I've ever taught (and of no credit to me...the energy in the room was felt by all).  I've become close to these two over the years and was thrilled to be invited to be part of their day.

I also had the honor and joy of meeting another Facebook friend who is one of my biggest supporters and a dear close friend.  We talk nearly every day but had never met.  Flew in to meet her, had an amazing time and then way too soon she was dropping me off at the rental car place for me to drive to the wedding.

Renting a car scared me.  I've done it before but someone was always with me.  This felt daunting and lonely.  I was terrified they'd try to sell me extra insurance and I'd be stuck paying because they would be too persistent for me to say no.  It was easy, car rented, I was decently comfortable in it and off.

Driving in the North Carolina mountains was beautiful and terrifying for me.  My achrophobia was killing me as I went down steep inclines.  This also brought up scary memories of another time I drove a long distance alone.  I was 19 with just enough money for gas and some food and that's it.  No cellphone, no credit card, no GPS, no one to call for help.  I was driving from San Francisco to Los Angeles.  I looked at the sun rising, figured out which way was south and started driving.  My car was a total piece of shit with nothing but a gas gauge and speedometer.  I had a gallon of water and some bagels.  Panic attack the entire way.  With a brief detour in Compton, I made it.

I had to remind myself this was no longer that experience, I was no longer that person and that I would survive.  I told myself of all my resources: phone, credit cards, cash, AAA, internet, to keep myself grounded.  Yet I still had to tell myself to breathe.  Once I was deep in the mountains I lost texting and internet but my GPS kept going.  It directed me to the First Baptist Church of Hot Springs "Your destination is on the left".  The humor wasn't lost on me.  

I then saw there was a Welcome Center, so surely they could help me.  Walked in asking for the Wheel of Bliss retreat center and the old hippie at the desk had never heard of it.  My resources were mostly gone for getting there and I held back tears.  He looked up the website and said he loves places like this and is always looking for one.  He called some "spiritual people" he knows and one explained it was on Meadow Fork and not Meadow Lane as the website had said.  Another 30 minutes away "you're about to go on a very twisty road", "I though the road was already twisty!"...dead look.  So I started twisting and turning my way around the mountain.  It was the craziest curvy road I'd ever seen.  The motion sensor on the car, to keep you in your lane, was beeping out of control. Fighting through tears I pressed on.  When I got to my location the caretaker was there and directed me in.  It looked like I had to take a left and plummet down a huge hill.  He assured me I was fine, and though I wasn't convinced I made the turn.  I pictured the car going over a ravine where I'd surely fall to my death but not after a torturous ride down.  Again trying to regain my bearings I found the parking (up a huge hill), and not understanding how far up another hill the retreat center was, I hauled my huge suitcase up a gravel road in the mountain.  When I arrived I was trying to be cool but I'd had it.  Everyone was welcoming and kind and I softened to the moment.

The wedding was wonderful.  I was accepted and loved and truly felt happy for their joy (I typically don't feel this).  But I had to get back.  I drank and smoked a lot, as I was upset over some other things at home, but also in panic about the drive back through those mountains.  I woke up my final morning and walked back to the entrance where I was sure the steepest more harrowing incline was...and it was a little hill.  It was nothing.  Even in my fear I knew I could drive out.  I started driving down that twisting road that I'd come in on and it was actually pretty peaceful. 

I started to make my way back over the mountains, preparing myself for the panic to come back and deciding how I was going to breathe through this.  After awhile I calmed, even allowed myself to play some music and sing.  I kept wondering when the big mountains would come.  I found I was then 30 minutes from my original location and I'd already gone over the mountains.  They weren't so big after all.

I really wish I had better insights here than the tired old "perception is everything' or "change the way you look at things", but that's it.  I had blown up my fears to the point of being in physical pain.  I had decided the ride would be scary and bad...and it was scary and bad.  I smirked on the plane going back as I thought of my ride back and how it was calm and easy.  I have PTSD and my survival responses are to be on high alert.  Yet the danger wasn't real.  I wasn't alone.  I have people who care what happens to me.  

I even changed my perception on the address glitch and the old hippie at the Welcome Center...I've decided I needed to get off my path to let him know of this place, before I could continue my journey.  

We're all going to make it.  It's not the end.