mountains

I went up A Mountain last weekend with a big gang of Brilliant.Friends.

Bikes and sneakers and running and walking and coffee and eating and laughs and babies and hugs and kisses and newspapers and sleeping and talking and happiness.

We chased a sunset, catching it just in time: to be drenched in that life.doesn’t.get.much.better.orange.glow; to witness the letting go of a perfect day; to be reminded that this is it! Brilliant, heady, crazy, quiet, rich, more.than.I.can.understand life.

And then back down the mountain. I was alone. Suddenly.

I went and picked up a whole Big.Bang!of.Good.Stuff to make the Best Looking Fruit Salad You Ever Did See. I was standing alone, in my beautiful, light filled kitchen. No noise. Cutting, slicing, dicing, tasting. And I started crying.

From nowhere my tears leaked out. Softly, gently, they rolled. And splashed. Speaking to me: you are where you’re meant to be but you’re also not quite on track.

Sometimes everything just seems so big. Too big for my head.