Thoughts from Seattle's Moleskin Entry on August 13, 2018

Flying back from a wonderful weekend in Seattle, Washington with Haley massey, Kelsey, and Brad—Josh October was with us a good bit as well.  We camped at Ipsut Creek near Carbon Glacier inside Mount Ranier National Park—a glorious view found after a five mile hike into the woods.  Fourteen miles hiked in two days, and my body is well aware of it.  I have pushed myself, but seemingly had little time to myself to see how I feel, to check in with myself, or to see what I have learned.  You see, I walked/hiked ahead of everyone else, listening to my Summer Solstice playlist while stoned.  I was viewing both the magic in the cozy green moss cuddling the trees and crevices, as well as the way the clouds settled around the taller trees bordering the creek bed and the edge of Mother Mountain.  Mother Mountain was standing tall and steady, immovable and strong--never changing—but able to see everything worth seeing by standing still.

…Lucky girl… 

I feel a little heartbreak, wanting everything at once—the quiet, the get-away, the “I am finally alone”—in contrast to the realization that “this will only last for a day, so take in everything while you can.”  This little group of trees was my favorite.  A bed of moss surrounding them on all sides with the slope leaning towards the river.  I could stay here…  Noticing the difference in writing between the previous two pages and this one.  Can I ever just be wild and free again?

It is an odd kind of heartbreak—the desire for freedom in the midst of the need for responsibility and order.  I would never trade it. 

I wonder if this is how other people feel on vacation.  I am trying to pack as much feeling, experience, and living/regrouping into the weekend as I can so that I can ride that wave for as long as I can.  It feels sad to always be leaving that adventure in another place instead of that being packed in my bag with me.  I write so that I can remember it—not what happened necessarily, but the feelings.  Always chasing a feeling, or rather the things that give me feelings. 

Rock me.  Hold me.  Keep me here with you as long as you can.  I can already hear them calling for me, and I’m not allowed to not answer.

“I’m here.” “I’m here for all of you.”  But I leave my most tender places in the woods- a trail I leave behind me hoping that I can close my eyes and feel my way back, when it is still.