One year ago, I was sitting in my childhood bedroom dreaming of the cradle of mountains I'm standing in. I was heartbroken from so much leaving.
But throughout all of the heartbreak, this past year has been woven with the sort of growth that stretches you to places you never imagined you could reach, and there is something so blindingly beautiful in that discovery.
Today, one year later, I'm pausing my run to lean against a log by Maisie's favorite brook, bathing in a golden blaze of autumn hues glittering down from the branches above me. As I've watched the seasons changing around me this morning, I've let myself sink into a smile and a silent celebration of how, after everything, I've discovered how to pick up the pieces and find my way here - to find my way home.
I made it back to the place that I love most and have been taking every opportunity I can to revel in its wildest sides. I'm rapidly rediscovering my body and healing through a renewed joy in movement and slowing down enough to cook food that nourishes me. I'm finding new strength and feeling the miles become easier beneath my legs each day that I rise early enough to chase them. I'm spending every moment I can creating a community here that makes my heart feel full to bursting. I've made the most incredible friendships over the past month alone that I hope I never lose close touch with, all while pouring new love into my most rooted relationships, and continuing to seek out new hearts that shine. I'm spending my days designing work that I love and am truly proud of.
I'm not waiting for an invitation from life anymore. In keeping with my favorite Vonnegut quote, I am leaping off the cliffs and I am building my wings on the way down. I'm finding myself by flying.
And, you know what?
I don't have a doubt in my mind that they will keep on carrying me - to what is meant for me, to where I belong -
To a life that feels like home.
