April 17, 2015

A Letter to the Mother of a Nomad.

Mum, if I die tomorrow, know that I truly lived. And that I died with a smile on my face.

When you’re traveling solo from land to land without boundaries, you find yourself facing lady death.

Death in all her magnificence; at the top of summits, on rough ocean rocks, on dusty desert roads waiting for a kind soul to find you, or in the darkest of woods with her creatures.

I have been in such situations. I’ve stupidly—“heroically”—placed myself in scenarios that constantly put my guardian angels to work. Those who cross my path remind me of my devilish antics and beg me to rethink my decisions.

What they don’t realize is that in my dance with death (stepping away from safety or jumping over the gates of conventional borders) I touch heaven.

Dare devils we are. But what the best dare devils will tell you is that their lives have become more meaningful since having grazed the end.

It is the same for the lone traveler in search of the true nectar of life. To suck on her marrow and bathe in her milk. Once that drug has penetrated our bloodstreams there is no other high. No other meaning. Nothing. Life. Raw and full. Mother Earth and all her elements dancing violently with your insides. She is intoxicating.

Nothing else matters. Only to taste her again and again.

However, if the universe decides it that I should slip or lose my rhythm with the world, I want my mother to know this:

Dear mum,

If I die tomorrow, know that I have lived. Know that I left this beautiful place with a smile on my face because I was free.

I held paradise in my eyes. And she was mine.

I’m one of the lucky ones. I ferociously fought fear and lit a flame under her ass… (she squealed and ran towards the city to find another).

She never came for me again. And so, I flew. I am flying, mum.

I have flown on the tops of mountains, survived the climb and spun my arms around the clouds. My hair has danced with the spirits and smiled at their stories.

I have walked off the beaten track and held hands with the wild. They are brazen creatures and tested my endurance. I became one of them, wild and knowing. My heart stood still when I was faced with the strongest of them, but they knew my agenda, they knew I am of their world now.

I have bathed in the creamiest of rivers, allowing her rage to attack my skin to see if it cracked. I let her take me. She knew best where I should go. Her bedtime creatures would tease my mind with their seduction, and yet my mind learned to let go.

I don’t regret leaving the world I once knew for this one. 

I have nothing, yet I have everything.

Mama, know that I saw magic. I saw what some never see. And for that, I lived life to the fullest.

If I never reach motherhood, it’s okay.

If I never cut my wedding cake, it’s okay.

If I never celebrate retirement, it’s okay.

Because, I lived. And if I die tomorrow it will be with a heart full of love and with eyes that saw nirvana.






7 Reasons to Travel Alone.


Author: Tara Minshull 

Editor: Renée Picard

Photo: jemshed at Flickr 

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