Today, it is brutally cold outside. Not in a North Dakota cattle ranch danger of imminent death while throwing hay to steers freezing to death on their feet kind of way, but cold enough. Dammit.
I want to run. I only got to run twice last week. I am missing the activity, the routine, and how much better I feel. Instead, I feel the wiggles and the clogs in my head and how stagnant my whole self is. Snap, cold snap.
I saw Terry Tempest Williams. It was amazing. She is beautiful and inspiring and you feel, you just FEEL, that this is a very, very special human being you are in the presence of. Awestruck. Her voice is gentle and yet powerful - you must listen to her. Her emotions are present, right there to see and feel. And you wish, so very much, that you could join her for an hours-long gentle hike, to talk and to silently enjoy the landscape.
I would like to do that some day. Go for a gentle hike with Terry Tempest Williams. Maybe it could be.
Her push of the notion of place and community as a driving force within - this shoots right into my heart and mind. I don't have my place, my community, my driving force, because I am somewhat blobbing along as this nebulous thing in my current space and time. Oh, how I want that root, that rooting, that place and community that sets fire to my heart and soul and lets me do no other than be authentic and present and passionately alive. Moab, slickrock, red sands and stones, ahoy. Yes? Yes. Somehow, oddly, strangely, yes. No longer gold and red and russet leaves against green grass and wooden fences. Instead, this smooth rock that hugs my boot soles and carries me safely up slopes that look impossible. This red dirt that gets into your socks and pores.
So now, back to nestling into positive routines and rituals. Run. Write. These are good things. Chocolate? Not so much.
Reconnect, recharge, respect yourself.
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