One day I’ll walk across these mountains, just me and Lacey. There’s something pure about feeling alone up here. Walking away from the group for a moment, hanging your feet over the edge and gasping at the height. Seeing crows spinning in the air far below.
It does not feel the same driving up the mountain, but it’s not an insignificant experience nonetheless. Witnessing the trees and, like tiny triangles placed perfectly where they belong, and reaching your fingers to trace the line of the mountain ranges, cascading into the distance. The shades of blue swallow me.
I have spent enough time here to learn about myself and life ~ I chose this experience because I knew it would change me ~ and I think my lesson right now is silence. Silence of not only voice but thought; a meditative acceptance and openness. Absorption.
Laughter is equally as important, so do with that what you will.
I have learned to leave the camera and phone behind, when watching the sunset. It’s not worth the pictures and it deserves your steady gaze.
I have learned to love those I meet, and to listen to them. To allow them to guide sometimes and to simply follow.
I have begun to find my rhythm, when walking or hiking or biking or breathing. A rhythm where I can set myself on a path and let my eyes wander and my mind slow down.
I’ve become more patient.
I have so far to go, but I’ve a whole lifetime of chances.