Don't be afraid to shake the dust.
I've been feeling time slip so quickly lately. It's been a heaviness on my shoulders, tapping me to remind me that it's dwindling. I'm not sure how to write this post, other than to tell you that we always think we'll have more time than we do.
I just want to accurately explain to you the freedom of walking in a sagebrush plain, mountain bluebirds and robins, dashing in and out of the brush.
And if I could contain the feeling of my hair blowing in the wind, I would. I could tell you about holding the whiskey bottle that's glowing blue from the fire, after we've said a 'salud' to our good fortunes of all being together while ashes dancing up the sky.
I want to tell you the deep happiness of listening to the sound of nothing but the wind in the pines and the fullness of the world away from computers and cubicles.
I've been feeling so disconnected because it's been far too long since I've seen the stars and counted the constellations.
I want to bottle up the feeling of cold hands working in the morning to get things moving, the first taste of coffee when you wake up, and how everything magically tastes better when eaten in the backcountry.
I kept saying that I'd do this soon, that I'd get out of the routine and just go. But it got put on one of those to-do lists that gathers dust on the shelf. I'm lucky that I had two friends in town this week that wrapped my soul in conversations about mountains and travels and big dreams.
The people that you should keep around are the ones that should make you feel capable.