I almost went home before I even got to the mountains. . .

That’s right. It’s embarrassing, but true. I forgot why I was here, and I couldn’t see the mountains from where I was, and I missed my people. I very nearly let my emotions sweep me back home. I’ve never been alone, blowing in the wind this long. And while the adventure is fantastic, the feelings are all over the place.

But I didn’t. I went up, into those mountains, and the moment I saw them the tears leaked down my face. I had intended to walk another mile that evening, but the mountains were just SO MAJESTIC, that I put my tent up right there and cried and grinned and drank them in for the rest of the night. I woke up, and they were still there. I was so small and awed and grateful to be there, and I just sat and listened to them.

One of my greatest challenges in this human life is to try and find words that accurately describe my emotions.

When I’m standing in the shadow of mountains, it’s a deeply emotional and spiritual experience. It’s like they’re singing a song to my soul, and it’s part of the same song the stars know and sing to me. It wraps around me, holds this human body gently, and frees the soul part of me so I can soar and weave on their melodies. There are no English words to convey to you what that feels like, but it’s so strong I can only breathe deep sobs and let go.

So, that’s where I was and what I was doing this week; setting my soul free to tune of magic mountain music.

This was supposed to be a post of what I saw and did and the story of my adventure. I guess maybe that will be the next post.