Let the rain come down....make a brand new ground

Tropical Storm Hermine is drenching us today and the rain matched my morning mood. To be fair, I don't think the mood will be leaving me anytime soon because it hasn't had it's way with me yet. Do you ever have those days when you realize something about yourself and it's not enlightening, it's just exhausting?

Because after the big realization, you've got to deal with the truth about yourself.

Especially on a rainy day, it can just make a girl so tired. I'm at the end of my lunch break right now, listening to Sara B's new album - specifically the song "Let The Rain." The first few lines sort of sum it up for me (so thank goodness I could finally buy it today)...

I wish I were pretty, I wish I were brave. If I owned this city, then I'd make it behave. And if I were fearless then I'd speak my truth and the world would hear this. That's what I wish I'd do.

The truth. Sometimes it's just too much.

Best Day

The mountains were wonderful (it's moderately difficult to be back in the Texas heat, but great to be home) and one day up in Crested Butte - I found myself thinking that it was, quite possibly, one of the best days of my life. Sitting here at home, with the smell of freshly baked Reeses Pieces cookies in the background, waiting for my son to return from a laser tag birthday party, I'm not sure if all of my best vacation memories are from just one day (I doubt they are) but they blur together happily and I realize they all have one thing in common - the four of us were together, laughing or enjoying a new experience.

We took a trail ride- just the four of us, through the Gunnison national forest. I've honestly never seen anything so beautiful in my life and as I rode through the aspen, I felt closer to God than I had in a long time. I admitted that to my daughter later. She raised her eyebrows at me, agreed that it sounded kind of corny, but then told me she knew exactly how I felt.

We wondered around a farmer's market on a beautiful sunny day. The kids and I got henna tattoos as I wore a daisy in my hair. Later that day, I listed to John Denver as I drank in the mountain air. (Nothing takes me back to the happy days of my childhood like John Denver. I must admit, however, that I still sometimes picture him with the Muppets when I hear him sing. He was my favorite guest star.)

We took our horse guide's advice, and ate pizza at The Secret Stash. The food was fabulous (pizza with figs, prosciutto and truffle oil) but the ambiance was even better. We sat on cushions in an attic decorated like something out of Tibet, complete with tapestries of Ganesh and Shiva (I think those were the devas and devis I recognized...but I'm no expert) and listed to the best ever hippie music playing over the speakers. We had so much fun -  it was truly one of those hours I want to remember forever.

The four corners of our family connected at each of these moments. We have seven more years under the same roof and I want more hilarity, more beauty, more connection. More "best days."

Mountain Mist

When the mist rolls in, it covers your mountain so completely that you can hardly believe it still exists. It feels as if this beautiful, verdant, enormous entity has been wiped from the face of the Earth.

The stability of the mountain, which seemed so certain when it was obvious from your window, is suddenly in question. Everything disappears into a gloomy greyish soup.

Wiser souls assure you that the sun will return and burn off the mist. You watch and wait, then try to distract yourself with other activities so that you don't have to look at the grey.

Eventually, the sky is blue and the last pieces of fog are releasing their hold on the mountain.

You're filled with gratitude for those who went before you and assured you that mist evaporates. The mountain brings you even more joy than it did before -- because you know it never left your side. You love the sun, which cleared the mist and  allowed you to see the truth. And yet, you accept the mist. You know it will return and hide your mountain.

But - when it happens again, you'll be the wise soul. You'll know that your truth is the mountain, not the mist.