Monday, October 14, 2013


I can't sleep.  This never happens.  But here I am at 3 am wide awake, thinking about the weekend we just had and all these thoughts swirling in my head.  I tried snuggling into Hubs a little closer.  Tried dreaming.  Counted sheep.  I'm just awake.  And thankful already for the coffee that will most certainly be needed when the day really begins. 

It feels like it was a big weekend.  Hubs had the whole things off; the end of a good rotation before one that will keep him at the hospital all the time begins.  We crammed a lot in.  Movie nights with Little Man, Daddy/son dates at the rock gym, friends over for dinner, walks to the park to pick up leaves freshly fallen.  The bright oranges and golden yellows  and deep reds littered the ground.  Fall is here.  The air feels crisp and cool.  The smells are a little earthier and richer.  Another season full of gifts is upon us.

Sunday we spent the day hiking and marveling at all the wonders abounding in this great wide world.  We hiked on wide trails with great canopies full of golden leaves and the sun filtering down just enough to warm us through.  We walked alongside creeks and saw the last of the salmon spawning below tall and wild waterfalls. 

The salmon are amazing creatures, the way they fight and push up the rivers to lay their eggs.  They work so hard against the currents, jumping over rocks, splashing their way through places too shallow and swiming in the deep pools with the strong currents always against them, always pushing them back.  And after they lay their eggs in the place where they were born, they keep fighting the current, keep pressing on until they die.  It seems so exhausting, watching them fight and swim and struggle like they do.  We saw many today that were near the end and even in their weakened state they still fight on.  I watched and wondered and thought about how they choose to keep going, keep pushing against the waters and refuse to go to the deep pools and rest.  They just keep fighting and working and swimming to the end. 

Much of life feels that way to me; I am going upstream in this quest to seek and live joy.  The world pushes me down and wears me down and the waters just keep running.  But those fish, they just keep going.  They don't stop until they die.  It's amazing.  So often in my weariness I just want to give up and let the current carry me out to sea.  And yet, I keep fighting too.  And I will keep swimming against this relentless push against me to give in to the sadness and weariness of the world.  I want to be like the salmon and live and push and struggle on day after day.  There is beauty there beyond compare.  And this one wild and gorgeous life I have been given is going to count. 

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