Instagram

I've finally gotten a new phone.

[New to me, at least.]

One of the first things I did with my new

phone was download Instagram. 

I just sky-rocketed into the 21st century. 

Here's some shots from my week so far, 

while trying to fit the world inside a picture frame:

This is Mickey. He's the cutest. 

Put a bird on it.

Sebastian: the cutest cat.

Stevie: CUTEST baby.

home-brewed beer: delicious!

On nightmares & lucid dreaming.

There are many things that I am fascinated by.
Lately I've been putting a lot of thought into the dream world;
particularly lucid dreams & nightmares.
One of the things I keep thinking about is how hard it is
in a dream to become consciously aware you're dreaming. This idea,
called "lucid dreaming" is something that many never experience. There is
an entire subculture of people who practice lucid dreaming &
an even larger group of people who seek to discern the meaning
behind what they experience while they're asleep.
[If you're a super nerd, check this out.]

Along with thinking about lucid dreaming,
I've been thinking a lot about nightmares. While it's
difficult to become aware in a dream of your state of consciousness,
I've found that after a nightmare, there are times for me when it
is nearly impossible to become convinced that what had 
just happened wasn't, in fact, real. I absolutely hate the feeling
of waking up and spending hours emotionally exhausted
by something that happened while I was asleep.

I think I've been thinking so much about dreams
because I have no ability to bridle what goes on in my mind sometimes.
I've been working on controlling my thought life 
in the waking world & while I can "practice" lucid dreaming,
[nerd alert]
I can't always know what, if any, bigger picture lies behind them.

Try as I might to make sense of them all, I'm starting to understand
that sometimes it takes work to let dreams remain just that:
dreams.

source

Life wins.

All things new. 

Drive.

The past 2 weeks since the fire happened 

have made me feel a little bit trapped. I feel like

I can't escape the news coverage, the conversations, or

the campfire smell that still lingers, especially after the rain.

Saturday I was able to drive to Canon City to help a friend

look for housing for the coming year. It was just an hour

outside of town, but it was the first time since the fire that

I've really been able to leave. 

It's amazing what a little drive to a new place will do for you.

It felt good to breathe in fresh mountain air & feel completely

separate from everything I knew. It made me excited for the future.

It might not be the prettiest thing that you'll ever see

...but it's a new day.

It's been raining for hours. Where this rain was 2 weeks ago when 

the entire state was on fire, I'll never know. However, there is rain 

& the earth is starting to look happy again around here. 

I can't help but feel like the rain is symbolic for so much more than

watering the ground. It is the beginning of life for what was just burned

very badly. It is nourishment for what survived, & it is a softening agent

for what has solidified under the heat of the fire. 

I won't lie. This season of life has been more painful

than I could have ever imagined. Some times I just

want to say "enough is enough," & become angry because it 

doesn't seem fair that so much could be lost in such a short period of time.

But all I can hear now & have been hearing for the past 2 months is this:

"Be patient." 

There are so many things
that these 2 words could mean, but at this moment in time,

that's all I'm getting. & I refuse to try to decode what I'm not yet 

ready to understand. So until these 2 words start to make more sense,

I'll take them for face value & wait. 

New Normal.

Yesterday was the closest I've gotten to a normal day in a while.

We officially began getting things at the house worked 

on since our street opened up. 

[we're some of the lucky ones].

I even had a chance to take a run around what was open in our

neighborhood. I couldn't stay long, because it's just too hard to look at. 

I feel like a spectator in my own home- stopping & staring like everyone 

else in awe of the destruction. For a moment I felt like I could look at things & then leave,

but I quickly remembered that this is my reality. There is a rebuilding process that must begin.

 But something about yesterday started to feel almost normal-like it's all
going to be ok.
The things I was distracted from this past week are quickly returning to my mind, some more welcome than others.
We're slowly defining a new normal.

For day-by-day summary of my last week, 

check out Beth's blog. She lives up the street

from me & our stories are very similar. 

Numb.

One week ago, I wrote about the wild fire that was quickly approaching

dangerously close to my family home. In that moment, I did not know of the 

horrifying events I would experience just 2 days later. I did not know that 

I would never return to my neighborhood the way it was when I left it.
I did not know that I would never return to my neighborhood the way I was when I left it.

I did not know that I would live through the scariest night of my 23-year-old life,

& begin to experience a cycle of fear & sadness that would consume me at first,

and then leave me numb after. I did not know that I would spend the next

168 hours in a daze, glued to the television, unable to function on a normal level,

but feeling guilty when I tried. & I certainly did not know that in the midst of such

chaos, I would begin to catch glimpses of the first signs of 

redemption & rebirth while the fire was still burning.

But as I sit down to write this, I am tired.
I am exhausted. All I want to do is process what has happened in the past week,
but I can't yet. & I'm letting that be okay.