Sunday, August 19, 2012

Quote Sunday

On the recommendation of my English teacher, I'm reading Wild by Cheryl Strayed. And I'm totally loving it. I have this streak of outdoorsy-ness from growing up near the mountains, and whenever I read it I find myself planning my next backpacking adventure. Why not do Zions in October, when I've got a 10 day break. Or maybe Sam and I could go down to Patagonia at Christmas for a week or two. And I'd really like to do NOLS Australia backpacking and sea kayaking this summer. I really am going to miss the mountains and hiking.
Anyway, along with appealing to every backpacking-fiber in my body, this book is beautiful and touching and excellent. Probably my best read this summer. I love this part:

Each night the black sky and the bright stars were my stunning companions; occasionally I'd see their beauty and solemnity so plainly that I'd realize in a piercing way that my mother was right. That someday I would be grateful and that in fact I was grateful now, that I felt something growing in me that was strong and real. 
(emphasis added)

I've been writing a lot lately - blogging, journaling, and poetry mostly - and I've found myself going over the past year again and again. I think it's about wanting to know where I'm at before I start again. When I look at this past year - look at the bad, ugly, and terrifying as well as the beautiful, good, and growing - I feel like that. Like something strong and real came into me this past year; something that I will need and rely on in the upcoming year. Last night this is what I wrote in my journal: In the end, all is well... because I unmoored then grounded myself; because I messed up then shot for the stars; because in the midst of feeling totally alone, I found those who deeply, sincerely, tenderly care for me, probably more than I deserve; because I started to understand how to be my parents' daughter; because I found creative writing, and that saved me; because there is quiet character and strength that come from doing hard things. This year built something inside me that I needed. Strong and real.

1 comment:

  1. This is a beautiful post. As you consider careers, I urge you to consider teaching. You may have just guffawed out loud, but one of the benefits of teaching high school is that you get to see this kind of growth in people, truly as beautiful as watching a flower grow from a seed. I know that is a bit cliche, but true. I've known you for 10 years and you really have gone through this process you've described and it makes my heart swell in a way I know your mother's does, in a way somehow I know she felt and predicted as she held you in her arms as a newborn. Thanks for sharing. (And I wish I knew how to make the accent over the e in cliche.)