I'm always shocked how difficult it can be to start writing again after not writing for three months; my hands feel almost awkward and hesitant across the keyboard. I guess I always expect picking it up right where I left off as an easy task, where "it's just like riding a bike"--which, of course, one never forgets once they have learned.
But okay, so I haven't completely forgotten how to write (saying so would be a slight hyperbole), but can't you feel something missing, can't you feel what is lost, when you don't cultivate and nourish those things you love most? I suspect that it's those things that we love most, that we are best at, that we can lose--not to mention miss--the most of if we don't keep our eyes on it, for there is so much more to lose.
This may have been a few weeks ago, but nonetheless it is worth talking about: I took a hike on July 23, 2011 that changed my life. From the very start, the the scenery was lush and green and breathtaking; it seemed magical walking along the trail with light streaming through breaks in the trees. I was with my boyfriend at the time, Scott Baird, who briskly walked in front of me and guided us along the trail--I know I didn't mind, for he was the best thing to look at on that entire mountain. During the journey of the hike, I started wondering what the trip was like for other people: Who looked at the ground the entire way so they didn't trip? Who constantly had eyes that wandered to everything but the path in front of them? And who did a mix of both? For it seems that those that look at the ground the entire way may methodically never fall or trip, yet miss the enjoyment to be had by looking at all the trees and vegetation; on the other hand, those that are constantly darting their eyes from their left to their right at all the sights to be seen may have a lot of fun, yet fall in danger of veering off the path and eventually making an indefinite fall--never to step again. I figure that this is an instance where one must not be too extreme: we can't be too uptight or cautious all the time and miss the beauty all around us; yet neither is a journey that is full of fun and entertainment that causes us to lose focus on our destination a wise path to travel.
And this is not even the best part of this two mile hike! Just as I explained, the scenery from the very beginning was absolutely beautiful. The small waterfalls, tall trees and unique rock formations acted as poppies--lulling me away into the elation of nature, to never press forward. Eventually I would be pulled away from these small beauties and the camera, for Scott continued onward and I was aware of his absence and wouldn't allow myself to fall too far behind. But it seemed as if the more that time pressed on, the more beautiful things I would see! I wanted to stop every ten steps, to get lost in what I thought would be the most exquisite thing that could be seen, as if there could be no more beauty to be had. Yet I still found myself being pulled forward.
And then finally the most divine canvas filled my view! Gallons and gallons of water poured over a green hill that was reminiscent of Ireland. Moss made safe havens on the slick, slippery rock and was fed by the angelic mist that sought to nourish any organism in its reach. And I stood in the midst of it, bewitched. Scott was no longer in front of me, and all I could see was this sensational creation that could come from nothing less than a Godly Being. So this is what it felt like to live among the clouds!
When I finally regained some of my senses and turned around to feel for Scott, there he was on his knee, asking me to marry him. Even nature and all its grandeur felt as nothing as dust compared to this man and the symbol of forever he held in his hand. How foolish I then felt, to consider the reality of how quick a base human as myself is to stop and linger at lesser beauties, when the best is yet to come if we are only patient, if we are only steadfast, if we are only focused. But I said yes and consider myself the luckiest woman alive.
And things never end up the way you imagined them to be as a small girl. I've come to know that when I was young I imagined engagement and marriage to be perfect, an easy ride where all my problems dissipate. Some may be dismayed by the disillusionment; however, though I'm still young and still figuring things out, I'm coming to appreciate that things are so much better than I ever imagined them to be as a small girl. That's not because things are necessarily easy or perfect or happy 100% of the time per say; it's because it's real, not some pie-in-the-sky dream, but reality.
And I guess some people can grow tired of their reality. I know I have before. But I am grateful for my own beautiful reality and the person I get to experience it with. I have seen many great sights, met many great people along the way; but I know that I have finally reached that last waterfall, met that one man that is greater for me than all else.
