100 Mile Road

I fear turning into an old woman. I fear losing my beauty and my sex drive and becoming a decrepit hag with no chin and no waist and thin hair and bags under my eyes and no butt and a hunch and a waddle and crepey skin and wrinkles everywhere. And I only have a few years left before menopause starts.

That morning Facebook shows me a picture of me five years ago and it’s hard to look at because I am already so different and the last five years have been quite hard on me. Sure I try to be a feminist icon and I know I am as a human being very beautiful, but…I feel like a quarterback has just crushed the wind out of me when I see what I looked like then, and what I know I look like now. I know I’m not supposed to care, but I care.

That evening I show up at Allia’s writing workshop. The exercise: imagine a hundred-mile road. That’s all. So I do, without consciously thinking of that morning’s blow to my vanity.

A deteriorating asphalt highway, passing through a mesa.

Cracks and holes.

Wildflowers and fresh leaves growing up through the cracks and holes so it’s actually better this way.

Bees humming and butterflies butting, the air fresh and cool and fragrant and green with the damp of the plants as the sun starts to set rose and gold.

The road sign is a yellow triangle with a stylised image of a tulip on it.

Growth Alert! Plants growing ahead!

I stumble across a fire opal in the middle of the highway and pick it up and there’s a honey-bee buzzing inside. The opal is the honey-bee. And as I hold the bee in my hand, all kinds of flowers and roses and honey pour out of it and the bee turns into a nightingale and bursts into song as the first star of evening pricks the lilac edge of the horizon.

I look into the distance. Evening is gathering far off on the horizon. I see the dark outline of a stand of evergreen trees. But as I watch, their black silhouettes bloom with huge bright blossoms, dahlias and magnolias and bright zinnias, gigantic and colourful, unfolding in front of my eyes.

By Jordana del Feld

Jordana del Feld MFA CMT is a story therapist who loves connecting women with their authentic voices and freeing their stories.  She happily meets clients in her gemütlich bijou studio in Kreuzkölln, and online.  She also occasionally tells stories around the Berlin storytelling circuit.  Check out (or be the next guest on) her vodcast, “So There Was This Guy: Where the Bedroom Is the Classroom,” on YouTube, follow her on Medium, and buy her books on Amazon or off her website, link listed below:  https://www.jordanadelfeld.com/books