What Being Broken Down on the Taconic Parkway Taught Me About Moving On

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It was 5am as I made my way on the Turnpike from Philly towards Massachusetts for my yoga therapy training that began at 8am that morning.

I was making such good time as my car began to buck and straddle 60-80 mph.

By the time I got onto the Taconic Parkway it went down to 50, then back up to 70, then down to 40, 30, 20 until I was leaning my body into the steering wheel trying to push the damn thing along.

Like that would ever work. Although I will say I firmly believe my magic got me as least 20 more miles.

Then I broke down. It was 6:30am, I was supposed to be at my training at 8am and I was still 90 minutes away.

The next 2.5 hours consisted of me waiting in my car for a tow, reading, drinking my smoothie, finding out that my tow truck was needed for an accident, a cop coming to my window and thinking my little green container of Advil was drugs, peeing in the snow covered woods while the cop waited for me.

And that was all before 8am.

The tow truck finally came and luckily a Nissan dealer was only 10 minutes away (what are the odds??) so the driver and I talked about his love of racing cars and his trip upcoming to Florida to pass the time.

Turns out my 2016 lease needed a new transmission, which would take 10 days to complete. Did I mention I was in the middle of nowhere??

So instead dealing with the logistical nightmare of figuring out how I was going to get to my training in MA, then back to my car, then home (because the car wouldn’t have been ready) and back to my car again, I traded it in and got a new one.

Let me just say this was one of the strangest, most unexpected days I’ve ever had.

Instead of being steeped in one on one sessions in my level 2 training I was eating my soup at the desk of an associate while she tried to figure out how to get me a new car.

She made it work for me, but not before her and I talked about yoga, eating healthy, white privilege, racism, our president, polyamory, having kids, not having kids and exchanged Instagram handles to keep in touch.

Connections happen everywhere my friends.

Suddenly my old car and my new car were parked side by side while I transferred all of my stuff from the old piece of my life to the new.

This was the car I got just one month before opening my relationship.

This was the car I had some very sexy adventures in. There are boot marks on the ceiling to prove it.

It was also the car I spent countless hours in with my ex.

Call me sentimental but it felt like I was closing a pretty big chapter of my life. A chapter that held so much joy and adventure and amazing sex and self discovery and love but also pain and confusion and sadness and profound understanding.

The change was so unexpected and while certainly not tragic in any way it just reminded me of what the past 2.5 year had to offer me.

It reminded me of how much more deeply and truly I’ve come onto myself

And through that it allowed me to get even more complete with myself and the pieces of my life that had already ended whether I wanted them to of not.

That night as I sat before the alter I created on the windowsill of my cozy little Airbnb, I pulled the Kali Goddess card.

Kali doesn’t play. Her message was basically that it’s time to move on.

Moving on comes in layers. Some are emotional. Some are Physical. Some are mental. Some are even material. And we can’t really control when or how this happens. We simply need to let it.

Sure we could push against it so hard that our knuckles bruise but that’s not going to change anything at all.

I finally made it to Great Barrington, MA. Eight hours after I was supposed to get there.

With me I brought a new, bad ass, red car and clearer heart.

I left behind some sadness, several kombucha caps, parking stubs and a white jacket that had seen better days.

It was time to move on. So I did.