The shift occurred on day 4 of my 8 day journey back to Florida. Crossing the border from Wyoming into Colorado around 3:00 pm, we were smack in the middle of a beautiful day – sunny, warm, big thick clouds, then the Rockies came into view and I was gone. Everything prior to that moment was spent getting me here. To here, to now. Every calamity thus far occurring in the interest of culmination. And as Abbie and I scouted for a place to camp, we came to this beautiful spot above the tree line, mountains towering above, Grand Lake far below.
The next morning, I unzipped the tent and stepped outside to watch the sun rise over those glorious peaks before breaking camp and packing up the Jeep for the next leg of the journey. Abbie and I settled into our seats, heading for the national park and some of the most astonishing views ever.
If ever there was something to make a person feel small, it’s mountains that pierce the sky, the witness to earth’s inch by inch movement against itself. The product of change in the form of ruptures, fractures, friction, and surrender.
Those small movements that, over time, grow into majesty and beauty, the illustration of patience and trust in forces that know exactly what they’re doing.
Today, I am the mountain. Trusting the forces to know exactly what they’re doing.
Meet me there.