look at the mountains we have climbed

Sometimes you know exactly where you’re starting, and exactly where you’re going to end up. You have a map that shows you how to get there, but still, the journey is nothing like you could have imagined. What about when you don’t know where you are, don’t know how you’ll get there, don’t even know where there is? Not all who wander are lost, but not all who are lost wander. I think I might be lost, but I’m standing perfectly still. Sometimes it’s as if I’m waiting for something to fall down upon me and tell me what to do and where to go. But my life has never been a fairytale and miracles don’t just rain down, pick you up and dust you off. There is no certainty in my life right now “I think I might be lost,” a statement with about as much noncommittal sentiment as there is moldy food in my fridge. I know that uncertainty is what youth, hell, what life, is all about, but there’s not even any certainty in my uncertainty. A year ago, I knew with certainty that my upcoming four months were totally uncertain. Now, I’m just writing certain, certainty and uncertainty over and over again.

Sometimes I think of the park and almost cry. One thing I know is this: I’ve got the Yellowstone-Blues. The feeling of absolute despair that I won’t be there and the constant question of what I’m supposed to do instead. I look at the map on my wall and look at Canyon Village and wonder when if I’ll ever get to go home again. I made this decision and maybe I’m regretting it, but I know if it was the wrong one, I wouldn’t have made it. My gut told me not to go back and I’ve got to trust that. It’d be easier if I had any form of plan though. Maybe the blue sky wouldn’t break my heart so completely if I had anything to hold on to, had anything to be excited and scared about. At times like this, I want to call HR at Xanterra and beg and plead them to give me a job and let me come home. I want to call my mom and tell her she needs to pay my rent because I need to go back into that park and find myself. I think I’m there somewhere, standing on a trail or in the middle of Hayden Valley waiting to be found.

Sometimes at night I can’t when I can’t sleep my mind wanders back into memories. I imagine that I’m in my sleeping bag, falling asleep in my tent smelling like campfire and listening to the Ocean or The McKenzie. I imagine that you’ve hugged me goodnight and told me that you love me. I imagine that there’s a dog lying on my legs. I imagine that I’m in my room in Yellowstone, with the fan blowing and music playing softly. Essentially, I try and trick myself into thinking I’m almost anywhere but here. But, I know that I’m supposed to be here. Even when things go wrong, it’s still right. The campus is still beautiful; there are still professors who believe in me, still a boss who sees my bright future, still friends who care about me, still coworkers who respect me. Even when I want to run away so bad that it physically hurts, I know this is where I belong. Even when I feel upset or stressed or sad I think back to who I was in High School and feel proud of the progress I’ve made. I’m excited to see who I become. And I know, that I can do anything. I miss Yellowstone and I miss loving others. I think I might be lost and I’m left to wonder: am I going to wait to be found, or am I going to get out of the forest and find myself?