The time we take for ourselves is precious. The time we take simply to do what moves us. To think, act, and maybe more importantly, to react at a speed unlike what we are used to. This is what fills me up. This is what soothes the hurt, the abrasive exhaustion that catches up without notice like a mountain cat, silently stalking.
I am a city girl. No doubt about it. I once brazenly moved home from a small mountain town in part because there weren't any particularly wonderful coffee shops and nothing was open after 9 pm. That being said it is the mountains that are what inspire me most, I simply prefer to have my cake and eat it too. The best of all worlds. The hustle of the city has been my driving force, since last June, I have felt like a tile puzzle, always manipulating reality to squeeze one more bit of space, sliver of time into my life and getting worn down, spread too thin, in the process. I needed to stop. The mountains and the values and pace of life that drive those who live in them are the precious counter weight to a life lived too fast. Right now I am lavishing the luxury of small mountain town life. The most strenuous and necessary part of our day is getting drinking water from a pipe in the side of the mountain we live on. Parking is under a buck for 2 hours. People take time to chat to you in the grocery line. You can get a rice milk latte anywhere. Simply Perfect. My days are spent reading, going for coffee, running along our quiet lane, and skiing powder from the oldest working ski lift in North America. Life is slow. Life is good.
I am startled with joy each morning when my emails consist solely of Facebook messages and Anthropologie sales. There is no need for me to carry my phone so it lives quietly next to my nest of bed, beside the flannel sheets, where its only role is to serve as my faithful alarm clock so I don't miss first tracks up and the hill. My laptop, yes faithful ol' Red, lay uncharged for nearly 2 full days. Life is different, and it's good. I had spent much of the last six months constantly feeling like I was holding on by my fingernails, run right off my feet, struggling to keep my head above water. Being here has been like sinking into a hot bath. My muscles are supple and responsive, they crave activity where before the ached for rest. My skin is smooth, the humidity sometimes masked as damp, has given it new life. I am surrounded by love and support and full of delicious, organic, gluten free goodness.
The moral of the story here is this: Take the time. Take the rest. Live slow when you can. If you are REALLY smart, don't let yourself get to a place where you NEED this. Get to a place where this sustains you.
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