Like I wrote last week, it’s been incredible to share my friends’ joys. A couple I love—and set up :::pats self on back:::—got married! And it was storybook perfect, and I’m only happy jealous I didn’t get to be there for it.
My trip to the mountains was, indeed, good for my soul.
But of course there’s no running away, there’s only making sure you’re in the best space to handle it—not physical space, but head and heart space.
I am grateful that I got far more validation than I needed at work in the days that followed my moment—more a reaction to past trauma than current realities, for what it’s worth—that a peer called to ask if I was happy at work (yes), that I got to eat my favorite chili and hike the bowl, that the skies cleared for the top, that I learned new things to work on in my skiing, that I got to try something completely new in skinning or “touring” as super fancy people call it, that I got to see alpenglow at ten thousand feet, drink melted snow, and ski at 7am. I am grateful that my friends rallied around me, loving on me and sharing their joys with me, giving me joy when I had none for myself. I am grateful to live next door to my fam, for them taking care of my puppy dog even when she sleeps in the cat’s bed, for podcast recording shenanigans including paying a man to hold a table for us to watch football, for a “yes” friend in my Austin bestie (yes, you), for BFree yoga and my truck and my garage gym and my matching senita outfits and this blog, forcing me to enumerate all the various wonderful things in my life every week.
I’m grateful that it’s 70 and sunny in Austin right now; I’m going outside.