Just returned from a 11 hour trip to the mountains. Sad. That's how I feel.
I've experienced the best week I can remember on a lack of sleep, sugar coated mind. As promised, I laughed until my stomach hurt. I jumped in 30 degree water, climbed a waterfall barefoot. I watched the sun slowly climb over the mountains, woke up in my loft and saw the purple mountain majesty I've been regretfully singing about since Kindergarten. Best of all, I had a few of the most inspirational talks I can remember. I'm finding Him again, seeing him in the Beauty of the World.
I've been lucky enough to be able to criss cross this country, and because of that my heart is scattered all across this land. I've fallen in love with so many places, so many sounds and smells. I've added another to my passport, another to my memories. I've dug my toes into the sands of the coast of California, rode down the Pacific Coast Highway and watched the sun go down over the sea. I've been to the top of Pike's Peak and screamed at the top of my lungs, then road down on a stretcher, losing my stomach for 2 days. I've seen the broken but happy faces of Honduras, smiling, crying, chasing me and my camera. I've crawled through the vastness of New York and the nonstop hustle of The City. I've stood on the rooftop, gazing at the cosmos, barely being able to see one star because of the lights. I've stood in complete darkness in the middle of the Caribbean, with nothing but the sounds of the waves to sing me to sleep and quiet my screaming mind.
I'm here, longing for more. Excited about the possibilities of where my two feet will be in 2 years from this key. Why is the future so scary? Is it because nobody knows what will happen tomorrow? It is because I'm not sure I will breathe another breath after this one? Perhaps that's all the more reason to close my eyes and go.