I sat washing dishes wondering how to make the start of this blog different. The 4:00 am wake up time, the smell of coffee, sweeping my house, dragging in the dumpster. But, maybe that’s the thing. Life isn’t meant to be so gosh darn dramatic and I wonder why I create it that way so often. I woke up prepared to peruse social media profiles and realized that trap—I’ve shown my insecurity in this area and it will always be attacked by the random human predators that exist all around us. So, instead, I looked at pictures of the kiddos I work with. Throwing rocks and sticks in the river, cutting trees, dragging said trees up a hill—this is what I live for.
Just ended a sentence with the word “for” forever feeling I’ve mastered grammar enough to start to be creative. I find others using words in text “mebbe, afosho, fer, yer” and others that I use to enhance my communication hiding behind an accent that doesn’t exist—at least not here in the Rocky Mountain west. I am told of a woman who has some crusty toward me because her partner took a “in a relationship” designation off of Facebook and started to like my posts. Took me awhile to even figure out who this person was—all profile pictures cartoon characters and abstract drawings. I didn’t even know. I feel empathy at this point—I have plenty of men in my menagerie unknowingly causing strife. I wonder if I would invite a man to my home even if I was in a relationship. This is not what I live for.
I’m feeling especially at peace during my most recent break up cycle. None of it matters anymore. Screen shot my shit, hateful man club. Try to get me fired. I can save time by speaking of my poor behavior here on the electronic page. Slamming my fist on the door like a cop threatening “if you don’t want a shit show on your front step you better answer your phone.” The shit show starts with a fist and then escalates to me screaming the first and last name of the aggressor along with a date of birth. Screaming like mad woman, acting incredibly immature. Back in April when I was in Laramie I woke up to my best friend screaming “fuuuuuuuuuuck you” and I remember feeling such pain in his words. No excuse for me but in my life sometimes it ends up I feel I need to scream to be noticed. Go off on them.
Will I lose weight this time? Will I become a better runner? Will I start to see a local more or head to Flagstaff or Fort Collins to see others? I’m so excited this time because the insecurities have melted away. Can’t fire me. Can’t intimidate me. So some have a negative experience in my yoga class. That’s not about me. I can adventure now with the best of teachers who don’t have to describe their accomplishments—they live them. And now I know the mountains and trails won’t change anyone. The quiet soft heartbeat of the earth chugs along no matter where one may be.
“Those who travel to the mountain tops are half in love with themselves, half in love with oblivion.