casimir pulaski day.

There is so much…just too much. I always want to give each post its own individual topic. But I’m afraid that’s not possible this time. I have too much taking root in my brain to give this post any boundaries. So here’s a nice caveat for you: I am very tired and very inspired and very nonsensical.

So much is changing. Why am I opposed to it? It’s been years since Rafiki spoke those words: Change is good. But I still don’t agree with it. Through everything I have never received the good that was supposed to accompany change. I don’t know how. I don’t know how to know how.

I hope that what will really matter after all is that I have faith that there is good here, in this shifting sand. I don’t know what, or how to use it, but I believe there is good in everything.

Change too often shows me what I lack in my life. It often brings up my selfishness, self centeredness. I, I, I.

I’m tired of myself. I’m sick of the same thoughts, the same patterns of dealing with crap, the same reactions.

I’m sorry. There is no pretty little bow at the end of this post. I can’t wrap this up neatly and put it away. I’m sleepy. There are too many thoughts, or too few. Or maybe I just need the woods and a blanket and you. You’re pretty awesome, you know.

i am thoreau.

“So this is how I choose to live, as if I’m jumping off a cliff knowing that you’ll save me, knowing that you’ll save me.” Relient K

I am a necessary part of the greatest adventure mankind will ever experience.

Every once in a while I pick up the book Wild at Heart by John Eldridge. I love this book, not because it explains men a bit more, but because it enlightened me to a few nuances about myself. Odd, I know, but that’s just how it ended up. My favorite chapter is the first. It explains at length how completely necessary adventure is to a man’s confidence. It talks about how men need raw, untamed wildness. I can see and understand that. I agree with it.
I also relate to it.

I don’t know why, but there has only been one thing in nature that fulfills me. The woods, and everything therein. Yes, the beach is relaxing, and my bed is a favorite, and my grandparent’s house is delightful. But there is something about the woods that I am in love with.

The smell of the damp earth and moss. The coolness of the breeze filtered through so much chlorophyl. The sunlight streaming through the leaves, what I call leaf-light. The darkness. The sounds. The green. The water flowing effortlessly, like it has for thousands of years. The richness. The animals, wary yet curious. The absence of time. The paths, ever winding. The self-sustained ecosystem. The oxygen.

I close my eyes and it seems to me like a little bit of heaven. There is danger here, there is adventure, there is peace, solice, perfection, beauty. Oh, what a paradox to have everything in one place. Wherever I go, whatever I do, I will always go back to the woods. It fills me up with gladness and thankfullness.

Dear old trees, we are such good friends. I’m looking forward to seeing them again.

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