Day 27: Everything Passes - 19km

Bairds CampGround in Perth-Andover to Maurice’s in Four Falls

Today was a rough one for me. I awoke and tried to roll over, but my entire body was stiff and sore, I felt I could hardly move. “I’m way too young to be this achey in the morning” I thought, and rolled back over to try and sleep a few more minutes. As tired as I am, I can never fully fall back asleep because I know theres too much to do in the mornings.

I’ve felt exhausted on other mornings, but this was different. I felt depleted, unmotivated, just wanting to be alone. Thomas picked Joseph up to get groceries, and by the time they were just coming back we were leaving. They handed us coffees and bagels and we were on our way. I eat my bagel and drink my black coffee, “be grateful for this, this will make you happy, just enjoy what you have, everything fine, nothing is wrong” is going on loop in my head. But it’s just one of the days. My unexpressed sadness manifests as anger or impatience to others. My desire to hide my vulnerability makes me vile instead. Why do we do this? Lash out instead of say, I just really need a hug. I kept waiting for it to get better, to go away. I had no reason to be upset, people have it much worse, it’s not even bad. But sometimes your just sad. Sometimes a coffee can’t wake you and walking doesn’t sooth your spinning head. Sometimes your just grumpy and shitty. And then it passes.

If theres anything I’ve seen to be true over and over again is it’s all in passing. Those awful, sad, bitter moments fade. So do the euphoric ones. I can’t force them away. I also learned that today. I’m looking over the sparkling saint John river, the clouds cleared,the sun is shining, hills in the background, truly majestic. “This should make me happy. Why isn’t it making me happy?” I just wasn’t there yet. A view is a view is a view. I guess its how I let it affect me, and where I am emotionally when I witness or experience it.

We’re now at the farm we’re staying at for the night. I’m sitting in one of those zero gravity chairs looking over hills of trees and potatoes fields, sitting under apple trees. It’s beautiful, my feet are up, and writing is making me feel better.

It’s okay to be sad, but it’s harder to hide it. Might as well just get the feeling it over and then move on with it.

Everything passes.

Later in the evening, after a nap, a shower, and a lovely dinner made by Lisa, Thomas came by. He brought all our stuff. With it the donuts Joseph had bought earlier, and he even brought me lemon, ginger, ginger chews, cinnamon sticks and garlic because I was feeling under the weather. He brought his beautiful vintage accordian out (with a story of its own) and played beautiful music for us. It brought people outside and neighbours from down the street, all wondering where the music was coming from.

Thomas was so excited for us, so full of a positivity that was so contagious, I completely forgot my earlier awful mood. He reminded us to breathe, and just be grateful for each moment. He sang us a beautiful song, and was on his way.

We went to sleep in the barn loft that night. A magical, hilarious end to the day, sleeping on hay, hearing the horses munching away as we drift to sleep.