sticky stinky feet

I was talking to a pal today in Colombia and she told me a story that made my heart sing.

Days that are full of imperfections and simplicity are the purest days. Funny to me how imperfections create purity. The feeling of being grimy, hungry, sweaty, tired is my favorite. Creates little tingles up and down my toes. There’s something really special about being entirely aware of your physical needs, yet entirely present in the dirty connections of newness. I want to live all my days like this, letting myself experience sticky connections while feeling completely uncomfortable. I can’t imagine living and being unable to experience life in this way.

I’m a roadie, a travel nurse, which has proven to be the absolute best thing for my soul. The change is entirely jazzy and completely difficult. When I was in Maine I went to Canada often. One time while heading back, an officer asked me where I lived and I said Mars Hill, Maine. He asked me why I had Minnesota license plates and I explained to him that I was only there for a few months and Minnesota is where I’m from. His response tipped me over from the unstable state I was already in: “oh so you’re really just staying here. Your home is somewhere else I guess.” “Yes sir, if you want to really emotionally disrupt me, that is correct.” But I’m realizing that that is where I thrive: outside the circle of comfort and security. It is where I become more and more the person I was created to be.

I believe that stretching the soul is the most important thing one can do for themselves to root growth. It solidifies a person. Grounds them and soars them all at once. Vermont has taught me the importance, as well as the sacrifice, of patience. Patience with cleaning the floor every time Prancer runs through the studio with snowy paws. Patience in ones who take three times as long to complete a task. Patience in clinically exhaustive road trips. Patience with the pace of time. And I’m so grateful for the frustratingly grounding feeling patience has brought me.