Tonight's View

This late Sunday evening feels like I am sitting on a ridge looking down at the week to come. The week ahead is a path winding through the woods below. There is work to do, the same old routine. Tonight, I see beauty in the mundane. Joy in the predictability of safety, community, and in a job well done. I feel my best when I am achieving what I want. That's pretty human. I'm excited to wake up each day this week and write. Like a kid going to school. I'm learning, practicing, and spending time; trading it in for a resume, a project, a final product. I'll have a book at the end of this journey. That, to me, is as exciting as graduating high school. After a book comes opportunities for a career. I have confidence. I can do the grind. I've done it before: with school, with lacrosse, with keeping employment and losing weight.

As I hit the publish button on this website, featuring the horizon of my senior year of high school, I jumped to the other side of the continent. The chapters of my mental illness are finally coming to a close. When the sun sets in one place, it rises in another. I did it. I survived. I've made it to a new horizon. And the journey between the two is one heck of a story.

I did it! I made it out of the desert. I've found a path that will lead me to the future my younger self envisioned. I've treaded the stormy waters of the ocean. I've survived the isolation and hallucinogens of the desert. Sure, there's life and beauty in both those biomes, but nothing as abundant and free flowing as the forest.

Metaphorically, I will hike the Continental Divide Trail, balancing vistas of the past and the future while being one with the present in front of me. And like someone beginning their thru-hike, I am eager. Eagerness is a sweet treat that will not always be on hand. This is okay; I have prepared. I am ready psychologically to face the wide range of emotions ahead. Write on.

I've pinpointed tonight's feeling; it's a rare one for me. Raw excitement. There are two occasions that stand out as matching this level of positive anticipation: the night before my flight to Guatemala when I was nine, and the night before I started attending high school. I'm not going to be able to fall asleep easily, am I?