Author: CAIT BROOKE
As she pulled into my driveway, nerves washed over me as if my mother would somehow telepathically know what we were off to go do. I climbed inside her white Ford Taurus and was immediately greeted with the high fast tones of Passion Pit and ghosts of cigarettes past. Chuck sat slightly hunched over the wheel, her long lean body pushing the seat back as far as possible. I liked that she was tall, like we were part of a secret elite of tall teen girls, our male counterparts usually residing three or four inches below eye level. We were newly friends, and although our small village of a town made us inevitable acquaintances, we finally bonded genuinely over a new favorite recreational activity.
It looked like a cigarette, but the yellow and white paint was chipping, giving way to its exposed metal flesh. The tip of it turning black from the lashings of the lighter. A “one-hitter” she had explained at my confused face, I was fairly new to the stoner lingo. Once filled, she let me go first, handing me the lighter and beginning our journey. I closed one eye and peered down inside of it like a pirate, revealing the vibrant green bud she had packed neatly down the narrow pipe. I pressed the metal to my lips and with a flick, I sucked in deep, feeling the smoke pass over my tongue and build in the back of my throat. I let out a short cough, smoke escaping my lips and filling the car.
“Let this be our little secret, no one needs to know we’re feeling, higher and higher and higher.”
Out the window we blurred between the familiar greenery and asphalt driveways of our tiny city. It was easy to get lost among the roads that turned to dirt, but it seemed like bliss to both of us. I embraced this mysterious adventure as we wandered to nowhere, taking a left at the pines, then a right at the giant stump, continually passing and repacking the one-hitter.
“Hold it in a while and inhale in short breaths a few times before you let all of it out.” she advised, seeing that most of my smoke was escaping from my mouth all too quickly. And each time my lungs inflated, my world began to shift to a new perspective. We drove quietly for some time, smoking and listening to music, letting the silence of conversation go un-awkward.
“I feel alive and I feel it in me.”
The car fell into its own rhythm, humming and bumping along the road beneath us, as Chuck effortlessly weaved around the gaping potholes and cracks in the pavement, classic Michigan roads. Like early morning fog, the smoke stood still and thick, surrounding us, as the music transcended us into the anthems of our youth.
After our eyes had dropped a level, Chuck lit a parliament cigarette that stretched as long as her boney fingers. Cracking the window she released her first drag out into the crisp February air. I never liked the smell of cigarettes, but in this moment I drank it in, inhaling so deeply the mixture of fresh pine from outside swirled together with nicotine. I leaned back, letting nearly every inch of my spine melt into the passenger seat. Closing my eyes, I let myself slip completely into this perfect moment in time that had been created, smoking weed in Chuck’s Ford Taurus. I felt truly infinite, like a secret to life had been revealed to me. Although it was like any other car ride, on all the regular streets, the cannabis (thanks to her teaching me how to inhale) unlocked a layer of my brain, allowing me to recognize the immense beauty stitched into every moment. In only a short car drive, we had created a world of abundant bliss, slowed time, and raw human connection.
We pulled back into my driveway, somehow all those winding roads had pointed home. With our secret sesh complete, we said our goodbyes, diverting my eyes to the ground, I walked inside, again nervous of the telepathic abilities of my mother.
Cannabis helps me to better understand the connection we hold with other people. Whether positive, negative, or a mixture of the two, humans are always emitting energy everywhere we go, making our society one big energy field. Before looks, words, or touches are exchanged, we can feel each others energy from across the room. Acknowledging this energy field can shift perspective from seemingly insignificant synchronicities of life into meaningful and profound connectivity throughout us all. I treasure this “normal” moment with Chuck that was burned so brightly into my memory, a lesson from the universe (and good ole’ Mary Jane) that any interaction can be life changing, just as long as we are paying attention. Be Well Wanderers!
In Loving Memory of
Chelsea “Chuck” Knizner
You will never be forgotten.
*I should mention that it is NOT a good idea to consume cannabis while driving or while in the car, nor is it legal.
Little Secrets- Passion Pit