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So yes, travel… But first, life.  The big picture.

Don’t forget what matters most, and what I’m all about.  I’m not asking you, though if you know, please tell me. I just have to remind myself. Or trying to figure it out in the first place. Because this travel thing sure takes a lot of work, and time, and money, and we’re not even there yet.  Remember, we scratch out a living providing vacations.  We don’t take them. So what am I doing?  Questioning myself.

Lessons learning, and will be learned on staying grounded.  On one hand, I leave my world for a new one. On the other, I carefully pack parts of my world to bring with me.  For example, obviously I care not to leave my relationship with my son behind.  This is the hardest part – the sheer distance that will separate us.  Or my business. Odd to consider I will begin taking reservations for this little bit of paradise from another one over six thousand miles away.  I embrace my responsibilities, and have no intention (quite the contrary!) of tossing them to the side as I leap onto a limb.   My shoulders are strong and I intend to carry these with me.  Otherwise, I would not go.  I’m really not interested in such frivolity.  Leaving it all behind was fun when I was young. I had nothing else I cared about.  Now I love what I have.  But still want to experience more.  Thus, the added weight, but added fullness of life and character.  Embrace it all.

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All these darned details of getting there from here (did I mention: with an eighty pound dog?).  Complicated by a different country, a different hemisphere, a different language, trying communications, emotions and relationships. Going where you’ve never been before. Minor details. Get over it.  None of that matters, just makes things hard, and I never said easy was good.  What I’m going for remains the same.

And still it’s all just a small part of the big picture for me.  For you, dear reader, might I guess, the more interesting part?  The rest might seem like boring details in comparison.  They are not for me. Helping my son with course load and career choice decision, setting up a reservation system and advertising for next summer’s bookings, juggling numbers and balancing the books (this never really happens but I go through the motions every year), arrangements for critter care and shutting down our guest ranch for almost four months… Do you really want to read about these things?  (The few of our faithful cabin renters who read the part about cabin bookings are smiling wide and shaking their head saying, “Yes!”)

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Do you know that feeling of arriving at a place you have never been to before?  You know that dream state you find yourself in at first, so odd and a little eerie, of not being sure if you’re really there, or just watching life pass by like a movie until you finally find yourself in there and participating and then it slowly soaks in that it’s real?  Nothing (except perhaps, hands-on positive parenting) brings you more face to face with your inner self.

Did you ever think what you were all about?  Really, take a minute and think about it.  Maybe write it down so it’s clear.  Or tell someone. Then it’s somehow more real. You shared it. Tell me, if you’d like.  I’m glad to listen.  It’s interesting what you learn.

Me, first and foremost, I’m a mother.  Nothing has created me more.  I am a wife. I’m one part of a team of three, my boys and me. (And dang, we are one helluva great team, if I do say so myself.)  I’m a dog mama, a horse mama, and the mama of whatever other animals I’m blessed enough to have and care for.  I’m about nature, solitude, creativity and passion.  I’m not always stable, a little too sensitive and filled with compassion.  I strive for grace, and have so much to learn.

And what about artist, writer? The encore career. Or some may note, back to where I was going before.  After the mothering and housewife part of the job has, well… I can’t say I’ve retired, but that part has turned into more of a hobby, shall we say.  We’re three equals now.  There is less for me to do. Now there is room for more.  More of another side of me.

Somehow this matters. Defining yourself from the start.  For travel will change you.  Not tourism, but travel.  Going to be, not just to see.

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My fingers hover above the keyboard but make no contact.  Slowly they settle, but no letter is pressed.  I am waiting.  Waiting for a way to explain all this and nothing reasonable is coming.  Maybe this isn’t the time.  Make the time.

Writing.  Sharing.  We all have gifts. I believe this is mine.  I’m too shy to give of myself when we’re together.  Some of you have seen that, or figured that out.  This is my thing.  Sharing stories.  Maybe just images.  Images painted in words. Bringing you out there with me.  Or inside, deep within.

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This makes no sense, I know.  This is no explanation for where I am going.  Though maybe it is. In a round-about way.  I’m not big on straight lines.

I need to go outside. Everything makes more sense out there.  The crisp morning air. Breathe… Yes!  It’s six below zero (-21C)  without a cloud in the sky and the new sun that just peaked the back side of Finger Mesa to the east has stretched long blue shadows across a rolling, waved hill like a frozen sea of pale golden snow, broken only by a meandering line of tall trees that define the river’s winding path, and then ending abruptly at the jagged wall of black timber on the other side.

After what seems like five minutes of pulling on, piling, layering and zipping up, I’m out there with the dog running way ahead, clearing my path from unforeseen dangers. And my big fat boots, loud. Each step crunching in the dried, sugary snow. White noise if ever I heard one!  Music to my otherwise wildly racing mind.  Relax now, there is nothing to think about except the next noisy step and grasping the next deep breath of this frigid morning air.

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