first night back home has me tossing and turning in my sheets. it’s almost a little too soft and I miss the sand and wind. I miss my companions I became so accustomed to over the course of last week. so many things to remember, stories to tell. it’s 3 am and I am awake, writing this down, but I have something else on my mind tonight.

perhaps I needed to find peace, perhaps I needed those people. that sacred place to move me, to bring me here, to my own sacred place. I spent a few evenings crying myself to sleep and staring at the stars, begging to find answers and to know my way. I prayed. there were many moments last week when I was in the presence of something greater than myself, something that demanded my respect and loved me in return. by the end of one magical week, I find contentment in understanding and seeing clearly. as if the desert eroded my resentment, depression and anxiety into the sand. I stood still and listened to the wind. listened to the deafening silence.

I am not angry anymore. I am not bitter. I don’t resent James for the choices he’s made. instead, I find gratitude because truly, he has given me the gift of life, a new tomorrow. after my return from italy, I arrived at a decision point. within that decision, I found peace. something that allowed me to forget, looking on instead, to the next adventure and giving thanks to the people around me I love dearly. what my life is truly made of. what makes it worth living.

what has been done, is done, and as porter puts it, everything happens for a reason. and as I know, there’s always a bright side in change. I’m always ready for change, it always gets better, eventually if not now than later. but today I am filled with love, appreciation and forgiveness.

keep my mind open, say yes, let life live and let it roll. so many good things come to you when you simply let life work its magic.

and as strange I felt about Dusty’s approaches towards me on the river, I let him slide in a bit because I kinda needed it. that rabble rousing, river riding, foul mouthed, charmer asshole of a cowboy whom I knew was trouble the day I met him at the put in. boy, could he sing and sing to me he did. me with my conscious choices to avoid him all together for most of the week, knowing I’d eventually have to get in his boat, then it’d be a hop and  skip into my pants. just like I really needed that moment at Schiphol airport in the form of a Manchester science teacher to make my day. you have no idea how you elevated my spirits. but I am still glad I escaped unscathed from his hands.

😉