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non-fiction Travel

Must Get Lost to Find Meaning

We had been here before. The rocky cliffs and the overlooks were over-brimming with fond memories making us feel a little old remembering the number of visits. But then came a lady pointing her hands. The parking lot was full. That had never happened before. So, up we went in Starved Rock atop the meandering hill, past the visitor center, and the lodge, worried about the length of the walk from overflow parking lot.

Overflow parking took us through new trails and despite having been to Starved Rock many times, we were now new visitors asking for directions, seeing new sights. It felt better than our familiar plan. And nonetheless the memorable spots appeared. We walked past the picnic benches where we had sat in 2007 eating home-cooked food courtesy the big heart of my sister-like/mother-like friend. That was before we had children. It was a time we treated one another like children. We ambled across people with fishing poles and the green grass where we had come with my cousins years later.

See, when we follow plans, we gain the illusion of control. We may be lost, just don’t know about it. Control-the single most desired entity over our days, our life, our loved ones etc. And when you are lost and not know where you are going and things you wanted simply show up, a sense of shocking control of nature for the support of your plans transcends. How would life be if we simply went with the flow, glided from day to day, care-free like an un-tethered leaf, oblivious like a baby, free like a bird? Isn’t that how life ought to be lived? Don’t resist getting lost. Embrace it.

By Mars D. Gill

From an early age I wanted to make connections with people from across the globe. Allowing emotions to escape the deep recesses of one’s mind, and be spilled into a sheet of paper for the world to read lays an opportunity for reader and writer to combine in a nameless bond, one of oneness, and intrigue. It bares a private part of the writer for all to see. It is daunting and exciting. If a written word can dissipate the worry from another heart, if a written word can bring to a face a smile or a tear, then that connection is complete, and a word shatters the physical distance and brings souls together in harmony and joy. This is my dream, only a dream at the moment.

When I was 15 years old, we got a new English teacher. She spoke so beautifully and clearly and made me want to be a better person. Despite my age-old struggle with language(s), I was fascinated by the world of writing. My teacher inspired me to be a constant memory keeper. I feel at some level she taught me how to think.

Now years later, I am blessed with a career and a family that keeps me busy. However it is that 15-year-old in me that is knocking on my heart and via this little personal web site, urging for outlet for my life-long aspirations of writing and as well as begging for validation of all the dreams, old and new that just do not go away. So, here I am on word press with my own website to see where my dreams take me.

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