Are not our building blocks, they should not be pieces of ourselves we have left behind. Memories are simply either lessons or reminders of love for or resistance to life.
This wasn’t so much a journey, but rather a very tortuous long walk; 4 miles climbing up a total of 2200 feet in elevation! I complained, I cried, I may have had a very small panic attack, I sweated a lot but I kept quiet; I refused to let my husband in on my weakness. I am one of the greatest silent sufferers to shuffle along this Earth, one of those people who strives to appear together and strong. I am done pretending, I have upped my workout game because I want to be my own hero, so until then, my husband is mine. He marched up that hill like a soldier and drug me along for the ride.
It was a beautiful site, all of it, but I did not find myself mesmerized. See, I have done myself a service by finding the beauty in the common things, most often the silly things. The day before our hike, I saw a frog on the grass in front of our hotel. I sat down by her and she jumped toward me. I softy touched her back, gave it a rub; she seemed to like it. So for the next 15 minutes, I lightly scratched her back. People walked by and smiled and I smiled back. What was so beautiful about this encounter? Why did it make me so happy? Probably because I was giving this little frog the only back scratch it will ever receive and quite possibly the only touch it will ever feel. She seemed to say thank you as she tilted her head as I readied myself to leave and I said thank you to her for this chance encounter with beauty.