Transitions, back on the road…

Hello Friends and Family, 

It has been a while. I have been trying to find my words with my move back closer to my hometown. I have many words, but I struggle with their expression and putting them into the world, but I am filled with excitement, but also a deep ebbing sadness that is hard to shake.  I do not have the ability to fully express the strength of this landscape and place, and how I became the person I am today, due to this areas ability to cultivate some of the deepest, most profound growth and personal self-discovery, to continue to create earning for more. 

To be raised in Central New Mexico, where vistas, open skies and the vast of open landscape is the norm, the land becomes transcribed into our DNA, as much as the love of green chile. I actively seek landscapes that create an intimate dance within my very being, the sheer magnitude of a place is that of poetry in the making. I was a wild child, raised by young parents, with evenings and weekends with grandparents.  The smells of livestock, leather and dirt clung to my skin as I moved through the seasons, chasing horses and my imagination. Outdoor spaces have filled my adult life with a child-like sense of wonder, chasing sunsets and sunny sandstone, dirt still cling to my skin. Familiar trails made different with the seasons, leaving me in awe of the power of nature and change. 

Life has a pulse, much like a human heart, sometimes elevated, sometimes depressed, but hopefully more often, than not, balanced.  After years of higher education, I felt like my life was unbalanced, just joining the march of work, and personally recovering from the stress as a caregiver from my daughter chronic medical conditions.  I fell into place in my hometown, with budding skills, trying to serve my community, recognizing I had a lot of room to grow. I gently lived through the motions of my life, until an opportunity and a recruiter changed my trajectory, setting a path for a new adventure.

The drive to Chinle, Arizona awoke something in my soul that is hard to describe, it takes your breath away and the other senses take over.  Taos and Sedona are known for their hum and vibration, respectfully, but the canyon country of the high desert, sing to your soul with more gusto than can be explained. 

Living in Chinle, there was a gentle beauty in waking up, walking out your door and connecting to the Earth on morning runs or even simply walking to work.  The people that I encountered reinforced this idea of reciprocity and oneness that I haven’t been able to find elsewhere.  Even the people that are attracted to working out there are cut from a different cloth.  Kayla and I both grew and expanded spiritually, as outsiders to the land and culture. 

Change is part of every season, much like the leaves changing in the fall, so did the faces. People became restless under the gaze of the open skies and the lack of instant conveniences, even us, moved northward to allow Kayla a “conventional” school experience. I transferred to Shiprock, still craving the positive work that I was performing in Chinle, but there was difference that never equalized and a commute that often felt demoralizing, robbing me of time from family and connection to the Earth. I sought evening and weekend escapes after a long week of work, which was often satisfying in the moment, but the rush to get home and ready myself for the week often felt like more effort, and less of a recharge. Even today, as I sit here and key these letters, the work of extra after work is taxing.

A few weekends ago, we had a last minute, unplanned, escape to Utah’s high desert. The sun was warm, the skies were clear and the landscape was welcoming, open for recharging my worn battery. The energy vibrated from the sandstone cliffs, stabilizing my own energy to move forward as I transition from this life to another.

Next month, I will have a new home, with a new energy surrounding me.  I will be returning home, a new version of the self that left many years ago, with new experiences and knowledge.  I will return to my family and culture, creating an opportunity for Kayla and I both to reconnect and cultivate the relationships with important people in our life and ourselves, understanding the nature of time, is fleeting. 

To the friends I have made on this journey…our paths will cross again.  Your energy, spirit and place in this world have left a lasting mark on my life and the world around you, whether you see it or not.  Keep being amazing and I look forward to when we see each other again. 

To my family and friends who I am returning to.  Be easy on me.  I am not the same version of the person that left.  I have big ideas and even bigger hopes for the world around us.  I look forward to growing with you, cheering you on in life successes and mysteries, and holding you when the grief of the world ebbs. We have a lot to catch up on. See you soon…

2 thoughts on “Transitions, back on the road…

  1. Just Gorgeous scenery, captured by great photography! Looked both breathtaking and peaceful! Yes! Travel changes us. Also – you have a double calling … writing ✍️! Language is your thing!

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