The stripping away of layers. Clarity and simplicity. Two things that seem absent in my everyday life. There is so much white noise. Is it being in a city? Is it having the job I have? Is it relationships and friendships taking away from time alone? I don’t know. I want to breathe deep, sweat, and cry, feel part of the essential human condition. I use to get these feelings only by being inspired by a place, but I’m finding I’ve learned to source it by running, swimming, and biking. Allowing the hard work to focus my thoughts and feelings, distilling them down from the complications and difficulties I ascribe them in everyday life.

I cannot tell if I am content or not in most moments. I am definitely comfortable and warm, but I am not sure that equals happiness for me. I can easily wrap myself in these feelings, sleep soundly and deeply, but it doesn’t quite fit yet, or maybe ever. The only thing I can figure out to do is to turn away and do something entirely different. Something that gives me an outsider’s perspective on my own life. I am not sure where this need to run away from my life originates from, but doing so always restores my wholeness. For the last few years, I’ve wanted to avoid that inclination and learn to live in a stable, constant f life by making small calibrations. But right now, I need to live bravely, face my fears and desires and strengths. The feeling has been bubbling over and building for a long time now, and I am working up the strength to embrace it. I see myself on the road again…

Multitudes

I use to think my heart beat in rhythm to the crashing of ocean waves. It doesn’t, and maybe it never really did. I realized this in my twenty first year when I saw the big sky and big mountains of Montana. My heart changed forever that day; something I am still reconciling and figuring out. How a moment is so meaningful and how memory expands and contracts the moment for the rest of your life. It is part of my subconscious everyday. I didn’t apply to the University of Montana Law School, maybe I should have. But I am mostly too scared to revisit those feelings and find out they don’t add up. True love like that is terrifying, overwhelming, and mostly imagined. I am surprised that years later, I am still working out the feelings. How does something stick to you in that way? It really is a type of stickiness, my feelings.