Elevation

Over the past year there has been some revolutionary movement.  The earth has shifted and the world I live in will never be the same again.  There is something about the steps that one takes through the passage of time that leaves something that cannot be erased, corrected, reviewed, edited and makes every second unique and different from the last.  It has been a step by step climb up a steep mountain.

Have you ever done one of those hikes that are marked as “amateur” routes on some tourist map but make you question the sanity of the map-makers half-way up?  I did one a few years back with my parents up Stickle Ghyll in England’s gorgeous Lake District.  My mom and I focused on our feet and hands, step by mountain-stone step, handhold by craggy handhold, looking only to the next step.  About an hour in we stopped to catch our breath, share twiglets and suck down a swig of water from my pack.  It was shocking to turn around and see the world sprawled below!  How far had we come looking just one step at a time!

That is how the month of July has been for me – near physical collapse from pushing too hard past challenge after challenge I’ve come across a small ledge, a respite.  It’s to small for me to get comfortable here, I am permitted a short break only, and then it’s time to climb again.  But MAN OH MAN what a view!

This weekend I’ve been knocked out with the flu and some deep reflection on how far I’ve come in one year.  There will be much writing done in this quiet moment and some of my recent findings will be flipped through and dissected, perhaps even making it on to this blog.

Have a wonderful weekend everyone!  And embrace the growth that each step has for you!

One step at a time up Stickle Ghyll, these “walkers” will be shocked at how far they have come when they stop to rest ~From Geograph

Advertisements

relapse

It suddenly got hard today. This commitment to emotional detachment. And with no rhyme or reason. There is no one to blame for this – no man has swept me off my feet. No song has swept me back into the past. I have not let my guard down in the face of difficult challenges.

Maybe I am more in need of comfort than I thought. Maybe the traumas of this week were bigger than I let myself believe.

I suppose it is to be expected. A serial monogamist will suffer from withdrawal like any other addict. The ideal will lack luster at some time or other. The grass on the other side will be greener at some point. This is the material from which cliches are made.

Today writing is a difficult thing. Finding something outside of the old addiction or ideal of romance takes a force of will beyond today’s capacity.

And so tomorrow will be the day that I will write next. Something inspiring. Inspired. Focused. Enlightened.

But let me just make it through tonight…