Worn out shoes

I feel awfully sad today. A sad you’re not sure where it comes from and when it comes it’s so surprising, you wonder what is happening in your head and why it decided to think and feel without you.

Here’s the thing with uncertainty: it’s almost a constant feeling, maybe not a noticeable one all the time but truly nothing is entirely certain. Here’s the thing about noticing: the insignificant details that seem to hold no original weight end up carrying us through the uncertainty. So, notice. Choose to see the insignificant smallness of a town light up with neighbors walking, folks going into corner grocery stores, a slight drizzle that paints the sidewalk in the sunset. I feel stupid and young and foolish, but brave. And everything I feel when I feel foolish feels insignificant. The insignificant carries the uncertainty onto a bridge that offers opportunity to see.

It has never bothered me when my shoes, clothes, body gets muddy. Sometimes it’s my favorite thing. Finding a public place to try and re-orient your system to the world but never quite following standards. My favorite way to live is on the edge of a cliff. Never comfortable. Never secure. Always windy. Always beautiful.

I recently returned from Quebec with dazzling eyes, greasy and muddy skin, oily hair. I went to Zara after tramping through a waterfall and bought clothes that I changed into at the back of my car in a parking ramp. When I crossed the border I went to a brewery about thirty minutes from my cabin, ate some chips and chatted with bartenders. Another thing about uncertainty: you get choices amidst it all. And your choice to still live completely despite a wobbly sensation is your best choice.