i just hope i have something interesting to say.

autumn found its way to the box canyon today. sun shone brightly on lemon-lime foliage. aspen ablaze on steep mountain grades. brisk air tossed locks of hair and scarf tassels. beckoning winter closer. it's in the air. i can smell it. the thermometer reads twenty-nine degrees. that's Fahrenheit folks. it's cold. but the crispness in the air reminds me i'm alive. it's the autumn color change, the drop in temperatures, the bareness to it all that brings me closer to that place. for me, this is the beginning. a fresh start. a clean slate. and i welcome it with open arms. the skies shroud us in starlit canopy. too big and expansive to cloak or drape. the big dipper and Orion's belt are lost in the depth of the celestial show. a veil of glittering light. i can not make out one single constellation. too dazzled to focus on one individual.

i spent my day off running errands and reading. eating homemade carrot & cilantro soup, curled in a blanket at the dinning room table. and in the evening, i found my way to the movie theater. four girls. two bottles of wine. and the time traveler's wife. (i love rachel mcadams. if i could physically resemble any woman on the planet...) that's a recipe for tears. and an answered prayer. strong women who get me. who understand where i have been. who can direct me on my journey. open and understanding. compassion and grace at a time when i have felt lost and alone. it is amazing what you get when you just ask. pause for a moment and address the empty aching places in your heart. i asked for pages to read and ears to listen. delivered.

my friend rae keeps lists on her computer. memories.
times that i felt sad:
times that i felt depressed: abandoned: angry: abused:
times that i felt loved: understood:
these are her stones. cairns. markers on her journey. and it reminds me of our individual stories. and their great tendency to intertwine and intersect. and i am so grateful for these roadmaps of memories and experiences. the compass rose points to true north. truth and understanding. you are not alone. embrace this feeling. the burden is easier to bare when your arms are not the only ones to carry the load. when you can feel the arms around you. embracing you. remember: you are not alone. you are loved. just breathe.

i prayed for pages. books to read. something to fill in the empty space on cold evenings. and once again donald miller fell into my lap. searching for t-shirts on TWLOHA i stumbled on his latest publication. a million miles in a thousand years. a few clicks, and moments later the confirmation email announced delivery in two to four business days. amazon to the rescue. marley and i made the trek to the post office this morning. our early walk turned towards the end of the canyon instead of the mouth. headed for the snowy peaks that towered overhead. pulling my fists into the sleeves of my hooded sweatshirt and smoothing stray hairs that blow from under my toboggan. my package arrived today. and i am already one third of the way through it. for all his arrogant remarks and self deprecating tendencies, i must confess, donald miller is a man who pays attention to details. and i admire that. and his bold and brave approach to his work. his sleeves bare the bloody marks. the bumps and bruises of his open heart. tell tale signs of his chosen life. his story. perhaps without the once upon a time or the happily ever after, but thick with twists and turns. a character who wants something and overcomes conflict to get it.


"there's something about a good story that helps me escape. i used to go to the movies all the time just to clear my head. if it was a good movie, the experience felt like somebody was resetting a compass in my brain so i could feel what was important in my life and what wasn't ...you get a feeling when you look back on life that that's all god really wants from us, to live inside a body he made and enjoy the story and bond with us through the experience...i wonder if that's what we'll do with god when we are through with all this, if he'll show us around heaven, all the light coming in windows a thousand miles away, all the fields sweeping down to a couple of chairs under a tree, in a field outside the city. and we'll sit and tell him our stories, and he'll smile and tell us what they mean. i just hope i have something interesting to say."
-d. miller