85.

...happiness is subjective; it does not depend on any particular environment. it depends solely upon our relation to the great currents of life. if we resist, there is friction and distress; if we fling ourselves boldly into the eternal tides, we are swept into every form of beauty and truth.

-George Hodges

"The Pursuit of Happiness"(1906)

on tuesday evening, my daddy and I were catching up like we often do as the sun slips away from us on at our respective poles - his a much warmer, crisper, slower, distant cousin to my thought-silencing, foot shuffling, overwhelming one - and he said to me, "you aren't the white picket fence kinda girl, honey." and so i've been wondering what kind of girl i am...

vermont gave me a breath of fresh air this weekend. starting with outside bbq overlooking ponds with otters making their homes and sharing a heart to heart with a like-minded thinker that i admire so much, i moved my attention away from the work that wasn't getting done, the job that steals away my consciousness, and remembered how to live. from there i sat around a campfire and listened to golden harmonies, renditions of my favorite cowboy songs, and remembered what stars look like away from the blinding city lights. apple orchards at night offer a top-notch perspective on the planet and our collective smallness. our spirits are bigger than we ever imagined when we remember how small we are. i dragged wet boots through a cow pasture at night and sat on rocks marking the end of my night in the early morning hours, sharing one final heart to heart built upon secrets and questions and trust. this night felt closer to home than i've known in a while. dirt roads, winding, dark dusty, with no need for a schedule or a calendar felt more important than any of the demands of my days. my wise friend articulated this sentiment beautifully saying that these hastened days that keep us shuffling, that stifle our creativity, our thoughtfulness, lead to an emotional sickness. i couldn't agree more.

so this morning i found my bare feet alongside the Connecticut river in the sunshine. then atop a hill in another cow pasture with a book that i'm reading for pleasure and a friend's reflections that were the best medicine i've had in a long while. the hill country, the sunshine, and the closeness of sharing brought me back to the self i know best. the one that isn't blinded by the city's lights, or silenced by the city's sounds, or trapped by the quickness of to-do lists, and delivered me wholly back to a peace of mind. closer to the self that i'd like to be.

i may not be a white picket fences kind of girl, but i'm without a doubt a lady who loves dirt roads, stillness, and rivers singing softly in the sunshine.