And How I Continue to Commune with Her.
As I swallowed the last bit of my mushrooms, honey, and sweetbread, I felt a rush of anxiety.
How was this evening going to go?
We decided to go camping during the January supermoon, just a couple months after the deaths of our family members. My mind had been in a dark spot for many months, questioning my place in the ever-expanding universe. The pain from these recent losses was still so physically present that it made every word and every thought feel heavy, as though my chest were slowly being crushed.
I knew that when we decided to go camping and eat mushrooms that I would be faced with these feelings and emotions. I mean, that’s what they do. After a few minutes of these thoughts weighing on my mind, my stomach flipped.
Was it starting already?
The smoke from the fire slowed down and shifted from grey clouds to dancing shadows of purple, blue, and green. This was it. I stood up to feel my body move- the only thing that helped with that early-trip nausea. Except this time, stretching was not enough to calm my stomach or my thoughts. I started walking around a tree, slowly picking up the pace to a speedwalk, to a jog, and finally to a run.
I looked at my fellow campers as I headed toward the woods, “I’m going for a run!” At this point in time, I was not a runner by any means. With breasts as heavy as mine (and an affinity for bralessness), running was never at the top of my mind because my breathing choices were limited.
But this was different.
And so I ran and ran and ran, almost immediately slipping into a runner’s high. I could breathe so easily that I was laughing and screaming with utter joy at how my body could move. Logan was right behind me and I vaguely remember telling him that I felt like The Flash.
No one could touch me.
As we reached the end of the wooded area, I began to slow down. The clearing before us held almost a square mile of palmettos, potentially filled with wild hogs. It wasn’t the best place to run so we stopped at the opening. I couldn’t help but stare at the sky ahead of me.
The sun was setting where the grass met the clouds. A mix of orangish-purples and cotton candy swirls made my eyes blur with beauty. How could this be possible? It was as if these colors had never before been witnessed by my eyes.
I fell to my knees, heavy with the disbelief. Was this even Earth anymore? It was nothing like I had seen on my home planet- a glimpse into heaven. Heaven? I had never given much thought to the word. I tried to say it aloud but my face felt heavy and all that left my mouth was a breathy sigh of wonderment. All I felt in return was a tug in my chest and tears burning my cheeks.
If this was heaven, then was I seeing the hand of God?
“Wow,” was the only word I could utter.
In all pitches and all voices I said “wow”.
Until it wasn’t a word anymore but a euphoric exaltation toward the highest vibration I could reach. I felt the joy move from my cheeks to my chest to my fingertips to my toes. I was buzzing. Alive with a realization so great it could only be described as orgasmic.
Still on my knees, I cried out with an unfathomable holler from my deepest reserves, a part of my body I had never harnessed before. For the first time in my life, I felt full, complete, as though the universe had extended an arm deep into my body and filled me up with its presence, looking at the world as only a holy being could.
This was who I had been waiting for. This was my reason, my cure for the sadness, my creator. She blessed me with her beauty and the infinite colors she had at her disposal. In the shadows and highlights of the purple clouds, she whispered all the things I could be.
My cheeks were hot with salty tears and sweet sweat from my pilgrimage to meet her. I don’t know quite how long I stared into her eyes, but before I knew it, she had closed them and stars appeared as though they were freckles showing on her skin after a long day in the sun. I stood from the ground, wiped my tears, and returned to camp, beaming with gratitude.
The supermoon led the way, illuminating the ground before me so that I could navigate the woods.
After that experience, it took a few months for me to recognize all that I had witnessed. I was a strict atheist before that moment, and accepting a god into my brain meant rewriting nearly 20 years of self-talk. I met God and she showed me that we are one in the same. I am the co-creator of my universe, painting with the same brushes on the same canvas as she. I’m still not religious, and I don’t think I ever will be, but I’ve seen my copilot and she opened my eyes to all that I am and could be in this lifetime.
I now hold deep reverence for running. I’m still not very good at it, but every footfall reminds me of the oneness I feel with my cosmic sister. The closest I feel to God now, is when I run with my chest out, my head high, and her sweet, sunny warmth kissing my skin.