highways, cars, cabins, and homes.

Yesterday, I spent the day in the Valley, trying to take up hours of the day, waiting for a phone call to come in. I took Veda with me on a hike to Lower Falls, and the mist from the waterfalls clouded off as spray, and we stood in it for a couple minutes before the crowds were too much to take and we left. 

I sat in the meadow and watched a friend climb on El Cap, explained to tourists why we do what we do, how people sleep up on the wall, how you pee when you are all the way up there, and no, we do not wear gloves while we climb. Who gave them that idea, anyways...I sat in the meadow alone until the sun started dropping, and I hesitantly started back towards the cabin. Dinner alone always feels so much worse than breakfasts alone. I take the mornings nice and slow and make myself a whole pot of coffee, just to drink it too quickly and lay in the sun a little too long, until my skin turns red from the heat. 

I felt lonely when I left back for the cabin, so I took my time driving up the winding roads. Because the sun was setting, when the trees broke, little bursts and rays would catch my face. The faster I drive, the faster the trees move on the side, like flipping pages on a book. I feel like I've lived a million years for as many things that are on my mind at these moments. 

There are two main insecurities on my plate right now, but the most important one is the lack of community that I feel right now. Moving around, I have many houses I can stay in. Houses are different from homes. Community takes time to build and grow and develop and expand, and I haven't stayed in one place long enough to see any of that, or deeply feel a part of it. Not since a long time ago in Laramie, when I settled down into couches with people who I can laugh with. That was a long time ago. That was back before I had thought of moving and started packing. Because once I was in the mindset of leaving, my own selfish thoughts revolved around moving and living somewhere different- I didn't give myself that time to appreciate people around me. 

So now, I'm sitting in Groveland, trying to decide where to spend the next week of my life. I don't think I'll disclose that information for some time, until it settles and I make the choice based on my own thoughts and feelings. 

Loneliness isn't unique or uncommon. I want to be in a place where I feel comfortable going to sleep and have something consistent. I'm sad that this isn't necessarily what I thought it would be. But it's just the beginning of something else. I know having these experiences will make me a better, more well rounded person. I found this in my journal the other day, talking about the unknowing of the future and I think it applies well:

"Morning cups of coffee. Large, deep, cups full of caffeine, ready to start the day at noon. Slow cooked breakfasts and wavering schedules...life is too short to not live this way. It is on a day like this that I feel I could settle down and repeat this routine--the only one I would ever like to have-- again and again. Good company with talking of fishing, backpacking, foreign countries and trailers. I wonder if I will ever grow out of this desire to explore and know the world. I hope not. Because the more I travel, the less I know about the world and the more I understand about myself, my beliefs, and the type of person I aspire to be more like."