words & art by shé

Ambling

I’m not in Tallahassee, carefully angling the travel trailer behind Trader Joe’s for comfort food, after yet another attempt to reconcile with a relative.

I’m not in County Cork, dismayed as my grandfather yells at my brother for blowing bubbles in his soda.

I’m not in a Budapest bath, standing in a cool pool while a red-faced woman berates me in German.

I’m not hiking a volcano on Kaua’i to get away from noisy thieving neighbors.

I’m not in British Columbia, cutting over a curb in the dark for an immediate flat tire.

I’m not in Los Angeles, stuck in traffic on the way to another asinine audition.

I’m not in La Cruz, kayaking in from the anchorage to attend a Women Who Sail meeting, only to be stood up by the entire group.

I’m not in Amsterdam, horrified by the red light district.

I’m not fending off fire ants in Louisiana while hitching up the compound to beat commuter traffic.

I’m not camping in western Washington, wondering how long my best friend will live.

I’m not boondocking the Vizcaíno Peninsula, pondering my water supply.

I’m not in Glacier, worried about leeches in the river.

Yes, I have traveled a lot, and yes, it wasn’t all bad. I’ve experienced many different ways of living and doing. (Milk in a bag? Children in a pub? Poets exalted?)

Unfortunately, I inherited high anxiety, so moments of bliss (whales singing, peeling down the line, Wyoming) are interspersed with pure-D terror. I need radical rest to recuperate. I am also reprogramming my… behavior? expectations? to benefit the adrenals. I don’t need to do so many things so quickly, or at all. It is NOT efficient to complete 15 tasks in an hour if it takes two days to recover.

The wind is high today, too rough to swim among the jagged rocks of mi playa. Instead I drink milky ginger tea and eat oatmeal with banana.

It is enough.

Ambling Hearts, 8" x 8" acrylic on canvas board, 2026
Ambling Hearts, 8″ x 8″ acrylic on canvas board, 2026

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