Please Forgive Me For Taking So Much Time…

by Susan Pogorzelski on April 26, 2009 · 6 comments

So please remember,
Not to waste another day,
Not to worry your mind…
And please forgive me
For taking so much time
To get back on my feet…

Thriving Ivory, Angels on the Moon (2003)

Lock Haven 2009, by Susan Pogorzelski

For the past two weeks, I’ve been plagued with the sudden urge to hit the highway and keep driving, letting my music play list move me and see where the road could take me.

I was searching for something I couldn’t explain, longing for something new, exciting, different, waiting for something to change. And although I had no idea what exactly that was, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something out there waiting for me as well.

I’ve had a rough couple of weeks. Actually, I’ve had a rough couple of months, a difficult past year, but these past few weeks have been a rollercoaster ride of highs and lows, filled with high emotion and difficult decisions and situations that I didn’t want to face or even write about and I’m not ready to quite yet. Suffice it to say, I’m handling them the best that I can, the best that I know how, and I’m grateful for the support of family and friends and I hope they know that this comfort is a thousand times returned.

So, I’ve felt the need to get away for awhile — needing to fly, to drive, to run. A friend had asked me why this longing to get away: what was I running from, what was it I was trying to escape? And I told him that I felt it was more like I needed to run towards something, like there was something out there for me to find, uncover. Maybe rediscover.

But now I realize that this purpose was twofold. I needed to clear my head, ease the depth of emotion that runs through me. And yet there was something else, something bigger, something I was looking for that I couldn’t even name.

Until I found it.

My alma matter is a two and a half hour drive along a scenic river, among winding mountain roads. I made plans earlier in the week to meet up with a dear friend who still lives in the area and set out early Saturday morning armed with a mix of ABBA, Collective Soul, and Keane tunes.

I’d traveled this highway dozens of times in the past, but for the first time, I savored the drive: the blur of trees and water and rock moving swiftly past; the sun casting a perfect glow on the water and the leaves, the fields; the knowledge that I was moving forward, moving on. Thoughts coursed through me and I allowed myself to feel emotions that I had bottled up, kept hidden for a long, long time. And then, with each passing mile, I left it further and further behind.

I felt relief.

I felt calm.

I felt free.

And I thought how similar this small journey was to the one in November. And how different it has been, too. When I went to France, I was trying to escape myself while attempting to rediscover who I was. Now…Now I think a part of me was trying to find a part of myself again, running to embrace everything I’ve found since then.

And I’ve found it.

That final, missing piece.

This weekend, my past collided with my present, and I looked forward to my future. This weekend, I shook off the cobwebs of this past year, shed all expectation, and embraced impulse, adventure, independence.

I found a part of myself that I haven’t seen in awhile. I found freedom from burden, courage to let go and let things be, faith that things will happen as they will, as they should. I found a side of myself that I’ve hidden out of fear, out of shame, I’m not entirely sure, but I found her again — that life-loving, chance-taking girl.

I found that missing part of me and now I finally feel complete, whole again.

It has taken me so long to get here.

But when you have a journey like this, maybe the destination is worth it all.

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