I should have started this
long ago, but I kept making excuses; there was always something to study or a
run to take or a friend to meet or sleep to be had. I keep waiting for the perfect sunset, the best view of the
mountains, just the right spot; really I don’t want to write at all – I want
someone else to do it. Much like my life: I want someone else to tell me what
to do and I will do it well with all my might. I lack the inventive spirit and
curiosity. I long for perfection and praise. I care way too much about what
others think of me and think my life is somehow more significant than others
because of from whence I came. No lie could be greater than that.
18 year old self inflicted
stab wound
86 year old pancreatic
cancer
heart surgery
bariatric surgery
rounding
16 year old sepsis and
lymphoma
17 year old Ray-Huntsmand
syndrome
I rolled out of bed at the
luxurious hour of 7am this morning to sun and a cool breeze. I had my coffee
and studied in peace. My run took me to Green Lakes today. I picked up a few
guys along my journey as I tromped up the trail in my pink sports bra and shorts.
The river runs next to the trail and sprinkles the air with it’s gentle,
forceful movement. It flows from it’s starting place high among the peaks and
transcends the miles of rocks to reach flat land below. My return journey took
me through more desolate landscape in the baking sun. I begged for downhill and
was greated with flat to uphill trails until the last 2 miles through dead
trees. The worst part of it was I couldn’t see over the tree tops nor couldn’t
hear the river that had guided me up the initial trail. Nothing but the empty
dirt path before me guided me back to my car. Salty, sun kissed, and weak, I
collected myself and drove back to town. The brilliant contrast of blue
mountains unfolding over themselves in the southern distance lorded over the
grasslands and lakes below. Broken top towered over me red and forboding
against the bright blue sky. Snow dotted the slopes. I found my breath.
No comments:
Post a Comment