Yosemite, Again...

I am leaving for Yosemite today for the weekend.  So incredibly grateful that this magical place factors so largely and frequently in my life.  Life is like that you know?  Providing opportunities for connections to places and people that put you in the way of beauty.  And I love being placed in the way of beauty.

I return to this place because there is a part of me that is only accessible there.  I can’t quite explain it but I know that it is true.  Every time I go, I gain access into a part of me that I don’t seem to have anywhere else.  Travel does this for me with other places too.  Just getting in my car and heading out of town seems to open me up and then the access to myself happens in ways that are just not possible at home.  Like travel and distant lands are some sort of portal to parts of me of me that remain closed and blocked otherwise.

I am struggling in my life again to get out of my own way.  And I am making progress.  Slowly.  Of course, I want the path cleared and my egoic debris removed for clear, swift progress.  That isn’t how this whole thing works for me most of the time.  I have been standing sentinel for so long that I sometimes forget that my life is MINE.  It is up to me, and of course, God, to move in the direction of light, beauty and growth.  Not always an easy task and sometimes the growth comes as soon as I pack a bag and get in my car.

I can’t wait to swim in the river, hike the hillsides and spending time with a dear friend who is similarly situated and growing.  Neither of us desperate to get to what is next, each of trusting that in time, we shall be moved into what is next. And this weekend it is into the mountains and rivers of Yosemite.

Such a weird thing to be drawn to a place that means “those who kill.”  But isn’t that what we are all doing, all the time?  Killing time, connection, relationships, progress. Perhaps I have to go to this place to remind myself that I too am part of those who kill.  I tried quite desperately to kill myself on the installment plan for years.  And I have killed relationships a lot.  Finding them too painful to remain, I have shot them dead any number of times. Perhaps my returning to this beautiful but treacherous place reminds me that though I really do try to live a life that doesn’t kill, there are more ways to die than death.  And perhaps there is no worse way to live than to fail to recognize that death comes in many forms and living of life requires that I must acknowledge death’s seat at my living table.

I look forward to a weekend with my friend, surrounded by the natural beauty that is Yosemite.  There is no other place I would like to be...

Again, still...