Mountain Dweller


Here to bring light to the issues that people sweep under rugs to bring healing to those who can't find their own words for their experiences and to promote change through individuality. 

A Look In To....

As part of wanting to be even more transparent, I tried hard to dedicate myself to documenting every thought that passed through, because there was something to learn, there is always something to learn. 

While my mind ends up twisted in itself, lurching over every potential outcome and reason to get it written down, I've become detached from the every day...

Like most weekends, we've found ourselves day-dreaming Thursday night with no set in stone ideas, only whispers and giggles about the trail we might venture to. Friday morning always come with delight, it's the end of our work week. No plans have been established, but we're rolling with it, I think hoping that the other person will text with a grand idea. Between us both, we usually find something worthwhile but we are indeed, both planners, who need some kind of rough outline for the mapped out days. 

My partner is hungry for bikes while I usually split my meal into twos; I am a creature of now when it comes to seasons, longing very minimally for the change of season to come. My counter is a day-dreamer caught in the throws of two of his favorite and first loves. The balance we seek comes like a dentist pulling teeth from a riddled mouth: one by one, moment by moment. We are learning, trying to understand each other better. This is the beauty of finding what makes a person tick, it reveals itself over time, never upfront. 

For our lives, or rather for what is becoming Chris', we have the welcomed challenge of tailoring our free time as to be inclusive of the fur-child. By all degrees of fairness, I am making Chris' adjustment a little less easy as to cement my position on bringing the dog everywhere. There have been misunderstandings accompanied by lessons for both mom and dog while we incorporate another human into our routine, however not one has led us backwards in our direction. Zuke is a better dog with Chris in our lives. 

So in the midst of securing the knowledge of what we choose to do as also being dog friendly, we usually find ourselves on two wheels and in the trees. There's mindless chatter in the car followed by a sweet, sunshine-warm nap in the passenger seat; there's quiet mornings around the jetboils and stolen kisses mid-trail; there's the moments when I glance over at you, just to watch you exist, and the dog is mid snooze, head in lap, melting me into a puddle of undeserved wealth. My heart beats so heavy for the moments that keep the air from my lungs...

The days that feel like triple digits are my favorite; the days that sink so low have turned from ending chapters to prefaces for how we pick each other back up and move forward, together as one. Not every day is dressed in white, sparkling in purity. Some days we sit alongside each other, swimming the depths of our own mind, too lost to try to formulate the help we are seeking in each other, reminded of the reality that even the people who hold your heart, can't always fix it. We don't leave though, we continue instead to pick up the crumbs on trail and hope that we can collect enough to re-nourish the other. 

"We thrive when we can get outside," he said, "it's just better for us," as I sat staring, empty with thought and emotion; it's raining outside and it had been for days at this point. I am restless with the need to be outside somehow, Zuke seems to sleep out of boredom and I can't succumb to the same, Chris is trying to figure out why we feel the same way. He is right, we do find our balance when we are in the dirt, among the trees, around the water...that's where alive feels the most alive. How lucky I am to have a partner that values the outdoors with such grace and respect...

Sundays are talk for things that our parents used to do for us, like the pot roast that cooked all day in the slow-cooker and melted at the touch of your fork, solidifying the end to a weekend of play. Talk they remain, as we find ourselves caught up more favorably in each others' arms than the isle of a grocery store. We have a list of "let's do that sometime" backlogging on us but oh, how sweet it is to have a list of things to look forward with you. 

Our weekends fade like the summer kiss, toes in the warmth of the sand and setting sun. Why are the sweetest things the ones that come to an end before you're ready? We gear up for the upcoming week, without doubt facing the same similarities as the one prior but with little displeasure, as there is a love to routine that doesn't get acknowledged enough.