Monday morning, and the living is
beautiful. For a few more days we’ll
have fall weather here at 8,500ft, but I don’t want to think about that. Because now is beautiful. The sky is clear, the clouds float by, I got
to sleep in, and when I woke up I had time to wake up slow, to rub the sleep
out of my eyes and say a few mumbled “good-morning”s to my other housemates
also (half-)awake. It’s a beautiful
morning. And in a few hours I’ll go into
work and we’ll drive to Denver International Airport and pick up 30 students,
most of whom haven’t been out of California before, and more than likely haven’t
seen snow ever. Thursday’s snowstorm is
going to be a shock. It’s supposed to
snow all weekend. We’ve had a few inches
accumulate before, but never anything that’s stayed for more than the day. This might be the start of winter. Soon. But
not now.
Now, the aspen trees have almost all
dropped their leaves, and the pines continue to stand majestic. The sun streams in through the windows,
casting a yellow haze over us all inside, both blinding and comforting all of
us here this morning, whatever it is we’re looking for. The clouds float by, in what little blue I
can see, high above the mountains. The
butterflies are playing tag, the flies wish for one more hour, and I’m just
happy I have an extra hour this morning.
When most of my thoughts were
reflections on the world and on myself, it was easy to share them with
you. What is forgiveness? How does the sunshine encourage me to live
more selflessly? How does the work I’m
doing matter to the world? It’s harder
to write about people, about a life so intricately connected with those of you
who are reading this that distance is harder to fake. You, who are a daily part of my struggles and
joys, how can I write about my life without calling you out, without admitting that
my life is still tied tightly to yours, even though we’re now miles apart and I’m
hiding behind a screen. How to be
honest, to you and to myself, if I only get to tell the story one time?
For as much as I love writing, I hate
words. These words seem to fall short of
what I mean to say; what is in my heart comes out distorted and superficial and
it’s hard to confine the whisps of feelings and emotions into words on a
page. And yet, still I try, futile
though I know it can be. Sometimes I say
what I want to say; sometimes I wish I could have found different words. And still, I try. Because I can’t not. I have to try, have to do something, have to
try to communicate the extent to which this whole thing matters. And so, even though it’s easier to pretend
that I can live this world on my own, that’s not the whole story. I’ve written parts of that story, and now,
the story continues.
And so, people. Because that’s what’s been on my heart most
recently. How much I love people; how,
even when they confuse and frustrate me and move me to tears, I still love
people so much. I’m thankful for all the
love they pour into me, how they comfort me when I’m sad, how they hold me when
I cry ugly tears. Since I’ve been out
here in the mountains, my housemates have taken care of me more than I could
ever have hoped. In less than two months
I’ve become closer to these people than I ever thought possible in that short
of time. My roommate is my favorite
person in the world- she really gets me, and without her I don’t know how I
would have gotten through these past two weeks.
She’s my rock.
And she’s not the only one. I love the people I work with (who,
incidentally, are also the people I live with… go camp!). Random chance has brought us all together,
and quite frankly I probably wouldn’t be friends with many of them if I had
just met them on the streets, but I think that’s part of what makes it so
special. The people I live with are the
reason I wake up every day smiling, they’re why I want to go to work every day,
why I don’t mind putting in long hours, because I know they are right next to
me, will be right next to me, until the very end. My co-workers and house-mates, they make sure
I make it through every day, they take care of me, they love me deeply and show
that love constantly. I love you.
Thank you for endless games of True
American; for taking care of me, and everyone; for letting us take care of you;
for driving everyday; for helping me accomplish my goals, big and small; for
just being there; for making me toast when I can’t move; for teaching me how to
smoke Cubans; for hours upon hours sitting on the couch; for movies; for the record
player and endless hours listening to records; for doing dishes; for letting me
complain about it being cold (and then telling me to shut up and get used to
it); for looking at stars and finding constellations; for late nights in the
kitchen, sitting on the counters; for hot seat; for putting up with my endless
list of camp games; for hugs, even when I’m unable to ask; for so much love. Thank you for just being you. I couldn’t do this job, couldn’t be the
person I’m becoming without you. I love
you.
And when life gets overwhelming here,
and I get to missing home, I just have to check my phone, or my mailbox, or the
back of my clipboard, to remember all the love that has carried me before, and
still loves, even from a distance.
Hour-long phone calls with friends, playing phone tag with my family,
cards in the mail that just say I love you, smiles and conversations shared
about how much little things do matter.
We’re miles apart, but this space in my heart will always be yours. And I love it. I love that even though we don’t talk as
often as we used to, when we do, it still feels like we’re close. Sometimes this moving on thing sucks, but
knowing that you’ll always be there for me, makes it just a little easier. Thanks for loving me from afar, for still
taking care of me in ways that only you can.
For sharing the little joys of a postcard, for letting me know I always
have a place to stay when I visit (not if, when), for letting me know what’s
happening in the lives of friends, and for being honest with me even when it’s
hard. Thank you for loving me in your
own ways, for staying in touch, for just letting me know you’re there. It’s hard moving on, but being able to
continue to celebrate the love, celebrate that life is better because of rainy April morning, because of (not-so-)quiet
time in the morning, because of saying yes to the unknown; this celebration
continues, even from miles away.
Life is better because you held my hand
through the hard times, and I’ll never forget that. I hope that you don’t either. Even though I can’t hold your hand anymore,
even though Sunday morning breakfast will never be the same, even though hot
cocoa tastes different when it’s not shared with you on the basketball court
under the stars, even though I’m no longer living in the room at the top of the
stair, I hope that memories can sustain us until we can again. When I can hold your hand, when Sunday brings
breakfast after church, when the basketball court is ours again, when my head
rests under your roof; it’ll happen. I’ll
celebrate that day with you, wrapped in your arms; and I’ll celebrate every day
in-between for all that was and all that will be.
I love people. I can’t not.
Couldn’t choose it, even if love was an option. On one of the hardest days of my life, I
realized that I don’t get to choose who to love, or if I love. I just get to love. With my whole heart, through all the joys and
sorrows and everything in between. I
just get to love, from my heart to yours, with love from the universe, from Brahman,
from Baraka. It’s liberating, to know
that this love is nothing I’ve ever deserved, and so you don’t need to deserve
it either; you, and I, we just get to receive and pass it on. This love isn’t here because of anything we’ve
ever done, or even because of who we are, it just is. The sun kisses the earth as it finally finds
a resting spot, the snow kisses the leaves as it continues to fall, the wind
wraps its arms around all of us as it moves from one eternal embrace to
another. This love, thank you for
sharing it with me, for helping to name it and claim it and celebrate the joy it
brings.
Some of my favorite lyrics say it best: “I
will weep when you are weeping, when you laugh I’ll laugh with you; I will
share your joys and sorrows, till we’ve seen this journey through.” Not because of anything, just because we’re
here, on this journey together. Thank
you for all the love. Let’s continue to love
from wherever; until we meet again.
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