The Traveling Woman

There’s something gained when a young woman travels alone. The shining moon her nightly guardian, the morning air her treasured companion. A sense of self awakes that first morning she opens her eyes with only nature by her side. The day is hers. “Go forth with out fear,” her conscious cheers, “there are many experiences to be had.” She learns to rely on her intuition rather than another’s opinion. 
She must be right with herself to trust intuition as her guid. For she is young and inexperienced. Time becomes unreal as she lives deep in thought. Her hours used to focus on her own kinks and smooth edges. What part of her spirit needs to grow? Where does her ego need to be silenced? Questions only she can answer. 

The solo traveler is sculpting her mind with the tiniest of tools. She contemplates the thorns she pulls out of her heal. She wonders about the tall and unmovable trees. They bless all whom approach the shade of its leaves. They show her what it’s like to be rooted; keeping her perspective balanced. Her goal is to gather as many lessons as possible in the short amount of time given. She takes other travelers tales with a grain of salt and reflects on the stories of the local gods. 

She eats the native food and cooks with their spices. When invited, she partakes in the traditions of the native culture. Respect others journey and they will respect yours. She strives to live transparently and to hike with good intention. The wandering soul has been misunderstood throughout history. But, she is merely chasing the unknown. One day at a time is her motto. How is she to control what happens tomorrow? When a young woman travels alone.

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