Oh Hello There

Beautiful thoughts, on something very dear me.

Writings of the Inconsistent

IMG_5873

Oh hello there,

My dear friends

and twinkling guardians.

Oh hello there,

way up in the dark midnight.

Oh hello there,

my loves.

It’s good to see you,

each and every one of you.

I see some of you couldn’t make it tonight;

that’s ok, I’ll see you soon.

You look so beautiful;

never leave.

It’s funny;

how in love with you I am.

My face hits the crisp night air.

My first reaction?

To look up to see if you’re there.

That crick in my neck?

I love it,

because I love you.

When you’re hiding,

or when the dark mantle of clouds cover

your shimmering eyes,

my heart sinks;

I miss you.

For days

you’re missing.

Sweet rains fall upon me,

but it’s not the same.

I miss you.

Then,

you return.

And the warmest of smiles

grows from my torso to

the corners of my face,

because,

there…

View original post 24 more words

Advertisements

Muddled thoughts and crab apple blossoms.

 

 

In forest of snow laden trees, I think of nothing but the blossoms of a crab apple tree. Their color bleeds from each branch, like an open wound upon a white canvas. It seeps into muddled pages of my mind, twisting, spiraling, dissociating through pained thoughts. The petals of each bloom are fair, and I imagine a warm cheek, a flowering smile. A wind weaves through the frozen spring forest, letting chunks of snow fall from their perch to the ground. It wets the soil. It fills my lungs with the scent of damp earth, and my heart with the anchoring spread of roots. I hope this feeling would pass, but instead helplessly I fall,  and I’ve never felt so scared.

Today I realized that I am nothing but a drop in an ocean of burning oil.

I am alone with the masses, all screaming,Broken Tree

“This is how it’s always been done.”

I feel nothing but love for my unborn children,

and the tears I wipe from their eyes.

I hear nothing but me saying…

“I’m sorry, this is how it’s always been done.”

 

In a forest of snow laden trees I felt as if I were a stranger.

This was my home. This hike had brought me such joy.

But yet, here I stand, staring at snow-capped mountains,

wondering why they feel so different.

 

In a forest of snow laden trees, tears begin to sting.

So many questions, so many things I don’t understand, so many places I wish I’d rather be. I was so angry. I am so human.

I poison the water we drink. I pollute the air we breathe. I destroy the land I love. And when my children ask why the ocean is buried in plastic, or why the mountains are smothered in smog I would tell them,

“I was just a drop…”

 

In a forest of snow laden trees I screamed for the answer. I wanted to fix what was so incredibly, painfully, broken.

My heart was torn, I felt so lost.

All I had was my single drop.

It was a glow pink petals that brought me back. I was shaken, but roots had me anchored.  I started to feel warm again, just thinking of those flowers.

 

And to think, out of all the flowers in the world,

My hope is seeded in a simple crab apple tree,

Blooming in the spring.

A warm cheek.

A flowering smile…

blooming crabapple

I am not alone. And neither are you.

Mountain Clouds

Suddenly, we are more than just a drop.  What I love so dearly, what we love so dearly, can be saved.

and the way it’s always been done

is not the way it will always be.

The Sandstone Teacher

The sun stretches itself into the crisp morning sky, its rays of light lapping against the rust stained sandstone. The air is fresh, my coffee is warm, the desert has awoken.

sunset moab

Photo Credit: Eric Mohr

Entirely still, the canyon walls open up to the void just meters from my crossed legs. I watch as sunlight flows off the edge, steaks down the canyon face and pools upon the desert floor. The pool of light rises with the sun, creeping its way up to the very brim, swirling around cascades of boulders and parched creek beds. 320 million years ago this land was an ocean. Now, its a sea of sunlight, filling into the day and draining into the night.

I love to look through the surface of that ocean. Boulders the size of houses rest 400 feet from where sit. I see them as pebbles. Like a child would drop small stones into a pond, this place has let chunks of itself fall from its sides. A small price to pay for existing for millions of years.

I continue to caffeinate myself, and try not to think about erosion. It’s such a beautiful day to walk on the surface of that ocean. This is the place I have always dreamed about. All the falls I’ve taken have lead me here, so that I may fall again. This was my first Utah Highline.

The canyon said nothing as I continued fall more times than I could possibly remember. All I heard was the smack of me crashing into the line and the air rushing past as each leash fall would whip me around. What a funny thing that was, to just hang upside down with a bruised ass and a questioning mind thinking.

Why the hell am I here?

I would chuckle at the thought. I loved this in a weird sorta way. It was kind of like practicing an instrument. The only difference was that I felt like I was falling off a cliff every time I messed up. I grunt and pull myself up the leash, fight back onto the line, and adjust myself to stand up again.
What a beautiful day.
Whip.
How many people do you think get to experience this in their lifetime?
Whip.
Fuck it, you’ve got it this ti…
Attempted line catch.
Uncontrolled backflip.
Whip.
Whip.
Whip.

It was hard to stay positive crawling my way back to solid ground. Without saying a single word the desert taught me a lesson. There will always be moments where we come limping back home. I smiled, and took a sip of coffee.

It was still warm.
Just as my home will always be.

incredible sunset

 

My body was sore, but my heart was happy as I watched the sunlight drain away from the cliffside and into a night sky filled with stars. No matter where I am, I will always have this desert. I will always have my family. I will always have a home.

Always.

Meditations of the Silver Lining – An Introduction

My mom once told me that every cloud has its own silver lining. I feel like everyone’s mom tells their child that phrase at one point or another. I didn’t understand the phrase at first. I was young. However, moms always know the right things to say, and she explained to me.

“No matter the situation, you can always find a positive light.”

And so I search.
We all search.

I do a lot of my searching on the highline. Life’s lighter moments, the sweet memories, the grand adventures, the love of others; these are the things I think about while suspended high above. I’m supported by my naked feet, smooth against thin webbing. My breathing echos in my head. The canyon responds with silence, even though it has so much to say. Each step is different, some fluid, some shaky, and sometimes I fall. We all fall. But the things we love catch us, and we hoist our bodies back to that special place. I take another step. We take another step, one foot in front of the other. And then, solid ground. Back to the real world, where you’ll hurt yourself if you step off the ledge.

I like that feeling, as if I just had a glimpse of something I will never understand. So many emotions; many of love, happiness, fear… all exciting, and envigorating. I can’t help but think, is this the silver lining?

Let it be known that I am not much of a wordsmith. Science and mathematics are my poisons of choice. However, during travels (both on highlines and not) I have stumbled across emotion that I can’t describe with just facts and numbers.

These are my meditations of the silver lining.
I hope you enjoy them as much as I have.

Adventure on.