“In French, you don’t say “I miss you.” You say “tu me manques,” which is closer to “you are missing from me.” I love that. “You are missing from me.” You are a part of me, you are essential to my being. You are like a limb, or an organ, or blood. I cannot function without you.”—Unknown (via theantiquated)
Amongst the many things I enjoy about living in Denver, I think I appreciate the proximity to the mountains the most.
Anyone who knows me in real life will tell you that during the week you will find me lost in my paper littered office, two or three cups deep into morning coffee black, (I’m taking another stab at paleo. damn you robb wolf and all of your hipster nutritional theories) thinking about acquisition strategy, how that operating agreement I pushed to the side needs to be reviewed and potentially negotiated at some point, what items should be put on the docket at the next regulatory hearing, and intermittently wondering if I could get away with rocking that navy and black leather Theory blazer to my next technical review with upper management because its superfierce.
But the thing is, as much as I want to pretend that playing career girl Monday through Friday (okay, and on the occasional weekend too) can be somewhat rewarding, the truth of the matter is that I don’t really feel all that whole from making deals for the big company I work at.
But I do when we’re drifting along the fingers of the lake, sans cellphone service with copious amounts of sunshine.
And I do when I am rain soaked and sweat-ladden looking out over the valley I have been so fortunate to call home for the last twenty-eight plus years…
More often than not I crash on my mountain bike.
I get dirty.
And banged up.
But I usually learn something. And get up stronger.
I think about things from a different perspective, because getting outside of the grind (both physically and mentally) not only allows my “work” and “play” lives to cohabitate, but it serves as a much needed and constant re-evaluation button. There’s just something about being out there that works as a catalyst for me to be a better person. To be more thankful. To count my (many) blessings. To push myself. Physically and mentally. To be kinder, to really live, disconnect from the treadmill. To shut off my phone, and my work emails.
These little betrayals of my weekend life peek through into the office by way of massive leg bruises or scrapes across my knees. But they function as helpful reminders of what is most important and who I want to be.
“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.”—Ralph Waldo Emerson
It’s been nearly five months since I closed on my little brick bungalow in the highlands neighborhood and it’s just now starting to feel like mine.
So much of the last few months have been spent on business trips, and summer weekends in the mountains, that it’s felt more like camping at my house than anything.
And despite the fact that I bought a newly renovated property, there has been no shortage of to-do items, and there has been no hiding the fact that it was built in 1926.
The overlooked details… like not having wiring for wireless internet. The challenge in fitting an over-sized washer and dryer into a room built for standard laundry. And then the big armoire I planned for the downstairs while perfectly measured for the guest room, did in fact not fit down the stairwell (which I did not think measure). And for that reason, said armoire was subsequently bequeathed to the upstairs master bedroom by default.
And with that the decorating strategies needed adjustment. Especially to accommodate for pieces I couldn’t bare to part with. And a new design project began.
What was once red and awkward standing in my bedroom amongst grays and whites is now one of my favorite pieces in the house. (and should be after the 2+ hours I spend hand painting it)
It’s funny really, what I once feared (like having a giant entertainment cabinet in your bedroom instead of the 100 year old Chinese wardrobe that I planned on) can become such an unexpected ”blessing in disguise”. Such is my life lately it seems.
As a side-note, I’ve found quite the knack for refinishing furniture, craigslisting odds and ends like fireplace screens, and home dept trips. Who knew?
“J’aurais dû être plus gentille—I should have been more kind. That is something a person will never regret. You will never say to yourself when you are old, Ah, I wish I was not good to that person. You will never think that.”—Khaled Hosseini, And the Mountains Echoed (via findthebrightside and reneenicolesays)
“Things didn’t work out because, well, greater things were in the works. It’s so difficult while we’re blind and hurting and don’t know which way is up. But, if you have faith in anything, have faith in the fact that the universe has a beautiful way of straightening things out far better than we ever could. You may not see it today or tomorrow, but you will look back in a few years and be absolutely perplexed and awed by how every little thing added up and brought you somewhere wonderful– or where you always wanted to be. You will be grateful that things didn’t work out the way you once wanted them to.”—What Happens After What Was “Supposed To Be” (via h-o-r-n-g-r-y)
“If you don’t have answers to your problems after a four-hour run, you ain’t getting them.”—
christopher mcdougall, born to run | via onwardandrunning
yes. this. this book is one my favorite things - a constant on my nightstand. a reminder of how great running is, how it bonds us, how much it goes beyond the physical, how it transcends time, & more. every time i read it, it inspires me to run - & run better than ever before. it led me to re-examine how i run &; how i could improve [which explains the pair of nike frees i picked up last week as i move towards a more “barefoot” approach to running]. if you haven’t read it, i cannot recommend it enough.
a lot has transpired sicne I was last here. big things. little things. some worth sharing, probably some not.
there are a handful of things running through my mind that I’ve been wanting to lay down here.
mostly stories about things I’ve learned, the incredible people I’ve met, and some of the really cool experiences I’ve had over the last couple months. there was so much goodness in there it seems like a daunting task to find the right words to convey it all.
In the interim of getting there, I hope y’all will bare with me…
I started my “daily joy” e-mail circulation back up last week and have found incredible motivation in doing so. an idea gently borrowed from emily that has shifted into a daily picture (usually a landscape from the mountains or a place near and dear to my heart) and a short accompanying line, goal, or story.
I haven’t been able to shake tuesday’s shots. probably because it’s a perfect exposition of things I am really looking forward to: the mountains, mountain biking (well, I am working on that part), warm weather, green grass, and photography.
“Mountains inspire awe in any human person who has a soul. They remind us of our frailty, our unimportance, of the briefness of our span upon this earth. They touch the heavens, and sail serenely at an altitude beyond even the imaginings of a mere mortal.”—Elizabeth Aston/Edmonson (via stephontherun)
“I wanted a perfect ending. Now I’ve learned the hard way, that some poems don’t rhyme, and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what’s going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity.”—
“I’m the kind of person who likes to be by himself. To put a finer point on it, I’m the type of person who doesn’t find it painful to be alone. I find spending an hour or two every day running alone, not speaking to anyone, as well as four or five hours alone at my desk, to be neither difficult nor boring. I’ve had this tendency ever since I was young, when, given a choice, I much preferred reading books on my own or concentrating on listening to music over being with someone else. I could always think of things to do by myself.”—Haruki Murakami