Travel Diary: From Burlington to Boston – Golden Hours And The Scenic Route.

A bunch of random road ramblings. Next stop on the migration trail? Boston.

Dear reader, (if it feels like a trap, you’re already in one). Ahem.

Anyways, I’ve been traveling and living nomadically for 5 months now and doing it all on my own. That is, carrying myself and all my shit upstairs and downstairs. Loading and unloading the car. Setting scary and kind boundaries with scary and mean people. Driving all alone all the way. Feeding, housing, and being myself while holding the whole truth better than any man.

Damnnn, you go girl!

Today’s diary entry is all about that and so much more. So, strap in guys, and set aside a bit of time for this because I’m about to take you on the wildest ride of our life.

Today, I’m writing to you from Boston, Massachussetts where I find myself moving against traffic just off the beaten path. Wondering and wandering about the world and feeling like a little tiny GIRL on the inside while also playing the role of woman and man in my long-term relationship. Sometimes, I just wanna scream CUT!!

…but I can’t because this is real life.

So, I keep on moving like a professional. Counter to culture while also redefining it. Getting lost in my own little romantic comedy thinking… “it’s all about love”… while everyone around me seems to think… “it’s some kind of race”…and all I can do is scratch my head and watch as they run away…on their way to goddamn who knows where as I silently scream:

Dudes, where tf are you goingg?! WAIT, come baacck! Ughhh, OK…love you, bye!!!

To my right, there’s a sweet little fur baby with a ball in their mouth and a snaggle in their tooth. To my left, a couple humans loving me even though they didn’t have to. Bless them. Underneath, my own two stable and totally ungrounded feet and above me, only sky.

Then, at center stage we’ve got society. Getting all lowkey triggered because my little solo performance of Romeo and Juliet seems to remind them of all the little parts they once left behind; and all the little big choices they thought they had to make – instead of the ones they actually wanted to make. Let them.

I’ll be here again tomorrow, taking my deaths and standing ovations just the same. And still choosing love it all, at every turn. Because I get it, fam. I really, truly do.

Life is fucking hard.

And I don’t know about you, but I’m finding adulthood to be legit, by far, the best and the worst hood I have ever been forced to live in. So nah, I’m not hating on anything or anyone–whether they choose the wild and free path like me, or stay “safe” and possibly a bit stuck in the expected and contained one like so many of us.

I still absolutely love you guys in the most obsessive, devotional, God-like kind of way.

Because isn’t that the only thing that’s actually holding us all together here on this burning alive planet? Choosing to love each other even when life is testing us, and our choices are getting impossibly hard? I think so, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

…that the thought I ponder as I find myself staring out the window of the Red Line train on my way back into Boston’s South End–like I’m some kind of starring actress in a melancholic movie scene. One thought turns itself into another until it all becomes your leading lady’s chaotic and unfiltered AuDHD stream of pure consciousness…

Stream of AuDHD Pure Consciousness

Do I really need society to validate my existence? Definitely not. Piss off, society. Bunch of followers. Posers. Meanies. Is that mean? Okay, just a little bit of validation would be nice. Can anyone spare a bit of change for this scared and hopeless little girl inside of me who’s living on a prayer and getting by on her own good graces?

Damn, look at all these glass ceilings. So many things built up in the name of wanting to prove power and rule the world. So many lives taken in the name of the Dark Lord of Earthly Desires and little green slips of paper. Wish you guys well with that.

Why isn’t anyone talking to each other on this godforsaken train?

I wish we would all just talk to each other again. I’m so curious about everyone’s lives. We could legit be homies if we all just looked up more. I’d totally share dinner with you guys if you’d only have me. We could be so nice to each other. I’d spend my last little green slip of paper to put some sounds on, light a joint, chill, and maybe sip some ashwaghanda tea on the porch. Catch up for once.

Ugh, it’s never going to happen…just forget it, Leah.

Society isn’t holding you down anymore. You guys broke up, remember? They weren’t even able to see all of you. They were so awful. Kept on insisting that you tuck your wild, soulful, sensitive little self into a tiny freaking box that didn’t have enough air in it to grow tall, let alone draw in a complete breathe. Just so you could survive.

So, what choice did you have?

You had to go your own way. Or else the beatings would continue, and morale most definitely would not have improved. You knew it. You had to die and so did she. Still, you miss her. You miss the sound of a friend’s voice and the way you glowed in each other’s presence. She’s no longer here, but she’s still in there somewhere. And right now, the last thing she wants to be seen with…is herself.

Honestly, I don’t even miss the stuff.

I just miss the people.

Next stop, Park Place. That’s my stop.

Time to get off and see what all’s around.

Taking the scenic route all the way home.

Finding Yourself on the Scenic Route

As I step off the train and look for the signs leading me to Prudential Center on Green Line, I get a vivid, full color dreamlike visual flashback to a time when a song started playing on my way back from Red Rocks Park in Burlington.

Isn’t that strange?

Right when your life is feeling like a lowkey global disaster waiting to happen…right when you start believing that you’re falling and failing at literally everything under the sun…right when you can’t seem to get your shit together long enough to find a suitable partner, or move out of your parents house, or work a full-time job, have a couple of kids, buy a home, a studio apartment, or even an AirBNB for the week.

Right when you feel lost...

Just feeling sorry for yourself. Cursing the entire world for hating on you. And thinking everyone else is so much richer, and stronger, and smarter, and prettier, and better since everyone seems to be better at proving it to themselves than you are.

Right when you’re on your little road to nowhere…that’s when it hits you right out of the blue. A new song. The one you most needed to hear. Right now.

Listen to all the words.

I used to believe, there was such thing as a wrong turn.

Cause I’d taken so many. So many, my whole life.

But one day I was walking…talking to the sky…when I took a wrong turn.

I came upon a field of flowers, and that’s when I realized.

I thought I was behind…losing ground.

But all this time…

I was on the scenic route.

And there I found myself again. Still lost, but just a little more found. Staring not outside the train window this time, but outside my car window at the golden sun coming up just over the hill and setting itself over the rolling green farmlands. It was then that I finally found the words to describe this crazy wild train ride of my life.

I’m on the scenic route, guys. The fucking scenic route. Get it?

And it’s a bit strange.

Unconventional. Dreamy. Countercultural. Liturgical, even.

But it’s mine, and it counts.

Right? Right? Riiiight?

Right. Dang, the words hit just right every single time.

Baby don’t you know, that you’re my golden hour.

The color of my sky. You set my world on fire.

And I know…I know everything’s gonna be alright.

Finding Myself Inside My Own Little Golden Hour

Suddenly, I’m not so alone or lost anymore. Faith is one ounce more restored. The feeling of hope in my heart is juuuust enough to keep me moving forward as I fall right back down the rabbit hole into my silly little stream of consciousness once again:

Home. Yes, that’s where I’m going. That’s where I’d like to find myself. Watching the sunset on the back porch in a peaceful place all together…oh GOD! Look at that freaking sunset! Grab the camera. Quick! Don’t lose any moment of it before it passes. Oh, it’s so beautiful. I wish my friend was here and could see this. She’d love it. I should send her a little snapshot or a film reel.

Maybe it would make her smile. :)

And there I am again and again. Holy heck. Smack in the middle of a real life golden hour just sitting in a folding chair watching a local band playing itself on Church Street. Stumbling into a boutique shop named Golden Hour right after buying myself a drink called ‘Pearl’ and my little once-a-month tapas style dinner. Sitting down and savoring some life at the bar of a sunlit, plant-friendly, witchy-looking little joint called Honey Road. Drinks on me, tonight, babe. Only the sweetest for the sweetest lady.

I throw up a peace sign in the dressing room mirror, as I message my far away friend:

“I think my transformation into The Nourished Sensitive is almost complete 🦋✨💐”

She didn’t see it. Won’t reply. Still gone. Maybe next time.

Either way, fucking pinch me. I’m dreaming.

Thank you, God. Thanks for all of this. ILYSM.

Taking myself out on a date at sunset.

In My Own Little Slice of Heaven

In these moments, I feel as close to home as I’m ever going to get. It’s like I’m in my own little slice of heaven. Or at the very least, it’s like the skies opened up just to give me that little wink of validation I begged for. The validation I’ve been searching for all along deep inside as I move into the next season of the Leah show I’m still writing.

Next chapter? Opening my heart and finding a way to a sustainable sense of self, as life continues to carry me through whatever is left to come in all the days ahead.

Wait…what if I’m already there?

Maybe “the good life” isn’t about the destination. Maybe it’s about the journey. Maybe it’s about just being a little more present in the here and now, to the person you are becoming along the way. Maybe it’s about learning to trust yourself and show up with an open heart in a world that can be so cold, so uncertain, and often so untrustworthy.

Maybe I’m not behind after all. Maybe I’m just on my own path. Maybe I’m actually lightyears ahead, in my willingness to see the possibilities and believe wholeheartedly in the idea that it might just all work out. Maybe society hasn’t caught up to me yet. Or maybe I’m insane. Idk. There’s a part of me that does wonder….so I’ll just own it.

Cause I honestly don’t fucking know anything, you guys.

I’m just as clueless as you are about all of this. I’m just a hermit carrying a lantern on my own little long, dark winding, sunlit path through the world and the most I can see at any given time is like mayyyybe one to two steps in front of me. FFS, I don’t even know where I’m going with this entry as I’m writing. Often, it feels like its writing itself. I’m just going with the flow, I guess.

What’s next, life? Show me. Show me. I trust you.

Life shows me something to be grateful for.

Grateful for every day I get to live on this amazing planet where the taste of freedom is so sweet and divine. Grateful for the people who’ve been so kind to me on my way. Grateful for the absolute privilege and honor to be here, now, making the most of this season’s offering of freedom, blessing, and pleasure (tears for fears song reference, anyone, anyone?) Just grateful. Grateful in every possible way that a woman as tenderhearted and fearless as I can be…can be.

Because five months ago, I found myself faced with a hard choice that forced me to make it. It was a life or death scenario, and I temporarily chose violence so I could take my aim at the devil and not miss.

Go my own way and never…fucking…look back.

I made the choice to leave behind a life that was “safe”, familiar, and maybe sorta-kinda comfortable for me because I knew deep down, that it would never truly fit, let alone fulfill the secret longings of my heart. I saw the cage I was living in and though I didn’t trust or even know that I had wings, I closed my eyes and took my leap out of it.

I remember standing on the edge of that open door to my cage. Nausea in my belly, fear gripping my heart, and choosing to jump off the ledge. And guess what?

Something caught me and carried me. It’s still carrying me. Some call it God. I just call it Love…or something like that. The wind. Honestly, words tend to escape me, because at the end of the day, when golden hour sets in, it’s all just a feeling I’ve learned to give and receive in times when the shallowest self has absolutely nothing left to say.

So, for now I’m here.

Taking the scenic route on this wild and crazy game of life we’re all playing, whether we want to or not. No going back. No opting out. No starting overs.

We’re all here. Now.

Becoming a version of ourselves we didn’t even know existed and trying to feel proud of each one, as we do our best not to miss a single golden hour as it passes us by in the drivers side window…mirror…backside…gone.

I’m a woman of my very own right now who’s not missing a single sunset as she finds herself falling in love with the future – day by day, hour by hour, doing her absolute best to live into this wild and twisted version of her own happily ever after.

Navigating the scenic route home, and taking you all along with me for the ride.

Next stop? We’ll just have to wait and see. 🦋

Oh look, it’s golden hour once again.

Try not to miss it this time.

xoxo,

Leah

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Try not to miss it this time.

Hey, the name’s Leah. You heard it. Just call me your dreamy, Pisces rising, wild woman bestie with the soft adventurous spirit of a Sagittarius moon, and the sturdy backbone and loyal heart of a Capricorn sun.

I’m also a highly-sensitive neurospicy, lateish-in-life diagnosed, unmasked autistic woman with a strong dose of ADHD, who’s special interests are: flowers, lyrics, butterflies, and radical compassion.

I write about all sorts of random things in the most magical, poetic, and unhinged kind of way. It’s giving part love letter, part travel diary, part fairytale, part brain of a legit mental patient. All while serving up hope for folks like me, and inspiring them to live their truest, most nourishing and thriving life.

Let’s be nice to each other here, alright? We’ve got one place to call home. 🌎 Friendship is in all of our special interests, guys. So, what even is this place?

Well, I kinda of made it myself. I hope you love it like I do.

The Nourished Sensitive is a home, secret sanctuary, and a coven for sensitive, spicy, unconventional little weirdos who meet when our schedules allow and when we’re not in some kind of mood. Just kidding…we meet regardless of the mood and just love and listen to each other a whole lot. Silliness is allowed in our group chats. Bring food.

And our little online space, which we call “The Garden”, is about to gather all of its strength and every last drop of courage it can muster to grow into a whole new season. What’s in store, you ask?

I can’t tell you the whole secret now, but what I can tell you is that it’s going to be the most beautiful, chaotic, sunset into sunrise, sparkly little rainbow through the clouds piece of living performance art that you’ve literally ever seen.

It will be the show of a lifetime.

So be there, or be square friends.

Cheers!

And before you go, get look at the new season with your own eyes 👀

Love what you see? Don’t forget to subscribe to grow with our Garden.

Garden Perks and Flower Arrangements:

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