How can I even talk about this?
Worth the time? The steps? The discomfort? I guess I’m not sure what you mean.
Yesterday, I stood waist deep in Grinnell Lake, fully clothed, in the icy rain. I ran into it. I laughed, and yipped like a coyote. I did it because I couldn’t help it. I wanted to know how it felt.
It’s worth it to me to spend days in the elements, for the gratitude it gives me. I want to get rocked, that’s what I’m after.
It’s worth it to me to design my life around these adventures. It’s worth every penny I earn, and then some.
Oh, the things which are worth it to me!
Exposure. As internal as it is external. From the inside out.
If I didn’t stand like I do, if I didn’t put it all out there, if I didn’t grin at the clouds that roll in, I’d be someone else.
So, “worth it” is not a question that makes sense.
I don’t make sense.
How I’m able to stand here, with my feet firmly planted on the ground, and my head in the clouds, is something I’ve given up trying to understand. I supposed that puts my heart everywhere. Which is just right.