Words dance atop deep truths. Symbols we call letters were perhaps first etched into dirt by early mankind. And in the dirt, meaning was found. But lately, I find words falling short. The feeling, the deepest meaning they carry, lost between lips and ears. Somewhere in the atmosphere. Dissolving.

I remembered that we choose the reality we live in everyday. That many have come and gone before us. That molten magma churns beneath the lithosphere of the earth’s crust. That these rolling dunes have been shaped by wind and rain. And that I am small.

I found myself by the water, laying down, listening to the soft sounds of the river, staring up at one of my new found friends. Silt burrowed between his smile lines. Above him, the canyon walls reached up to touch the dusk sky. We fantasized about going back to the put-in and starting the trip all over again. In this moment, I became fiercely aware that this was going to come to an end.

I hope to remind you all that the fastest way to find yourself if you feel lost, is to get lost. 

I find myself being called back to the river, as a sailor gets called by the sirens.

“Creating a connection with the wildness outside is way of keeping the wildness within alive.”