Missing the Valley

If you asked me where I wished I was right now, I would probably tell you that I wish I was in Yosemite. There are things that I need to do here, and I realize that. However, the feeling has grown into not just wishing, but into a full-out-sometimes-I-get-teary-eyed-thinking-about-it-wish.

Maybe if you have been to the Valley, you get this sentiment. The difference between my longing and other's missing feelings, is that it's not because I long to be on the granite walls. But the underlying feeling I think is still somewhat similar. The magnitude of power that is in Yosemite is beyond words. To stand alone in a field surrounded by walls that feel powerful, yet familiar, is a feeling that is far beyond the words that I can describe it as. And with the risk of sounding overly sentimental about it, it's magic. I felt something so much bigger than myself there, and I have a longing to be immersed in that feeling again.

I walked in to the Valley, shaking, nervous, angry and upset. I wrapped tibetan prayer beads around my wrist for some strength to conquer a fear of a place that held a lot of negative energy for me. But as soon as I was there, it wasn't overwhelming anymore. Its hard to be mad at a place that leaves you speechless. It's difficult to be face to face with such heavy feelings.
And it feels like a lead weight off your back when you sit down with those feelings and acknowledge their presence, but tell them that they don't control you.

I miss feeling photographically challenged.

I miss San Fransisco.

and I miss Yosemite Valley.