The Art of Being Lost

After the trip to Colorado, my best friend and I decided to take a girl’s trip to California. We were planning to road trip for a week to different areas in Southern Oregon and Northern California for a week, and camp at each location. After all the hometown weirdness, it was nice to be out in the wilderness and have the opportunity to think about everything since leaving home. My head was all over the place about future travels and whether or not I was truly healing from my past.

Luckily, my best friend was in the same boat as me, and we were determined to escape our troubles for just one week. We sunbathed on a different beach almost every single day, and hiked the most incredible sights. We were originally shooting to land in Yosemite and then drive back to Portland, but we only made it to San Francisco. Though camping on the coast was quite healing, my mind was all over the place. I wasn’t sure what path to take for my future, and I was still trying to put my hometown behind me.

Say what you want about my friend Mary Jane (if you know what I mean), but I thought it was beneficial for myself to partake in stoner activities. As a Goody Two-Shoes, I stayed on the straight and narrow path for most of my life. Of course I had my crazy teenage adventures like everybody else, but I mainly just stuck to participating in school activities and I was working hard to earn the scholarship that I have now. The first time I tried Mary Jane was freshmen year of high school, when my “bad influence” friend gave me a pot cookie. I didn’t hate it, but I only tried it a few more times junior year, and one more time senior year. I didn’t start smoking more regularly till college, and I eventually became a full on stoner by the time I moved to Oregon.

I was battling myself about a lot of things once I was away from my parents. My parents thought I was becoming a “degenerate” or something, but I knew I was just trying to find myself and my own individual thoughts. I know the downsides to smoking pot, but nobody ever talks about the upside. Way back in the day, Native Americans grew the herb as something sacred that could be used for spiritual reasons. As a Christian who was newly on her own, I was trying to find my own separate relationship with God, without anyone else trying to tell me how my relationship should be. After smoking, I would meditate while listening to worship music, and talk to God one on one.

It was finally after talking to another Christian from work that I realized where I stood on my religion; I was becoming more open-minded. I know how most Christian’s think, and I know that I think differently; I’m bisexual, smoke pot, and feel like I’m not even close to figuring shit out. But I did know that God loves me as I am, and it’s okay to have a different relationship with God than others. I truly believe the most important thing about my religion is to just love… love as much as you can.

Anyways, while my best friend and I were on our extravaganza, we would get high on the beach every night before going to bed. While watching the waves crash on the shore, I played intense violin music, and we both just sat there in silence, pondering our lives. Oregon and California were both so beautiful, especially since we were driving alongside the coast. Looking at the ocean and the forest meet, made me feel like I was apart of one of those coming-of-age movies.

Once we came back from the trip, I stayed wondering about where I wanted to end up. One thing was for sure, I still didn’t like the city scene, and being in the middle of nowhere was the sweet spot. I don’t know, but I think there’s an art to being lost.