Experiencing Texas, a location on My Top Ten List, unfortunately only lasted three hours. Driving through north Texas to Oregon – while racing trains and snow – I saw the sky actually curve around the flat edges of the earth.
“You can put your boots in the oven, but it don’t make them biscuits,” a deep voice drawled over the radio station. The old Texas saying, according to the man selling work clothes, reminds us to stay true to ourselves.
Staying true to my Texas self, I only listened to country music for three hours while passing an abandoned jet ski on the freeway shoulder, a billboard promoting a FREE 72-oz. steak, the tallest and thickest church cross (ever), Stuff-It Taxidermy, black cows grazing in fields near white future-sustaining windmills, the National Quarter Horse Museum, and patiently freeing landscapes.
I wanted to stay longer in Texas. I wanted to delve into its cities and run across an open field. But with only three very fast hours, I had to somehow enjoy and accept the fleeting moments blurring outside the window.
Choosing what to focus on, as we always do, I tried to find a place of peace to simply feel each moment. Since it was the day after the End Of The World (which I was rather abnormally worried about), I was even more grateful of my time in the Lone Star state. But I was clinging onto each blade of grass passing by, each motionless cloud in the sky, each large church cross on the side of the road. It was a challenge to accept the end of each moment as a new one approached, and passed, again, and again.
But, looking back, I remember my time in Texas vividly. Each sense heightened, each moment a gift, each feeling somehow excruciatingly true. Letting go in those moments, even while knowing that they will end.