For the Love of Now

There are far too many times in life I get caught up in the past—nostalgia, loss, happier times, and in the future—fears, far away dreams, indecisiveness. But then there are the moments that bring me right back to here and now and make me love life more than I ever thought possible.  It’s always the smallest moments that leave the biggest imprints on our hearts. And those moments have become more frequent the more I’ve just let go.

I think the thing that makes it so hard staying ‘here’ is the frequent inquires of my future plans. I have unintentionally set these expectations of going on crazy adventures. I do have some plans up my sleeve, but for the love of now, I just want to make plans for the summer and no further beyond that.

I’ve spent every chance I can outside, in my element. Camping and hiking, doing yoga in the woods, cooking steaks over radiant coals, snapping photos of everything and nothing. Ah, how it fills my soul to fall asleep to the trickle of a chocolate stream. Somehow laying under the stars, pointing out constellations in an impossibly crowded sky, makes me feel so insignificant yet so immense.  Though I toss and turn in my sleeping bag and wake with every sudden snap or rustle, I awake feeling rested and rejuvenated. Moments like these tempt me to run away and live out my life as a wild woman, living with nature, free of excess and stress and the force that runs our lives…money. How profound it would be to survive based on actual survival skills and instinct and knowledge.

"Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it. Begin it now."

In My Hometown

This morning as I put on my striped thermal shirt, my brown smartwool socks, my red beanie, my hiking boots, and my purple rain jacket, I was hit with extreme nostalgia.  This was the exact outfit I wore most days in New Zealand. The rain outside and the distant smell of pine made me crave the mountains so much it hurt. I went on a short hike and lost myself in my lens on the rocky trails of Cedar Mountain. After the endless strenuous days of travel, I never thought I would wish to feel that exhaustion again. I longed to feel the weight of all my possessions on my back to remind me how little I need to survive. I longed to feel the sting of forming blisters and the soreness of toenails separating from the skin to remind me that my feet can take me anywhere I want to go. I longed to feel the comfort in complete solitude to remind me of the vast difference between aloneness and loneliness. I longed to be in a constant state of motion to ease the restlessness that has gradually crept in.

  

It’s that time of year again. The days are gradually growing longer. The weather is still too fickle to settle into the warmth of summertime everyone is itching for. It’s the time of year when I am usually preparing to leave. But I am trying something new this time around-- staying. That word makes my heart race a bit. I have found so much comfort the past few years in being unsettled.  Comfort in situations that force me to live outside my ‘comfort zone’.  Being rattled and nervous somehow makes me feel more alive. I crave new scenery because it’s the greatest source of inspiration for my photos and my writing. And now I have to somehow find that inspiration in the scenery I have seen all my life.

I can already tell it’s going to be more of a challenge staying put than I thought. The urge to leave is deeply rooted in my soul. But I’ve been taking small steps to ease the wanderlust. Buying paint instead of plane tickets. Taking Sunday drives instead of lengthy road trips. Being adventurous in the kitchen and cooking foreign cuisines instead of heading to another country. As I’ve admitted before, I tend to stray from the nowness of life. That’s something I am really trying to work on. I want to experience so much that Wyoming has to offer and have adventures close to home, and that’s what I am trying to focus on now.

“She promises herself adventure, new places, different views, a chance to get lost. She infuses her day with newness and wonder. She brings a camera everywhere, notices the little things, gets a cup of coffee at a different café, and takes the long way home. She discovers so much unexpected joy. She begins to love the journey.”