And Back

On Christmas morning this past year, my husband had written me a note in my stocking on a card that said 'I love you to the Mountains and back' on it.  It has a beautiful picture of a dirt path leading you into an idyllic mountain range.  That card has been on my mantel since, and I finally framed it today.  Every time I caught a glance of the card, the words would turn over in my mind....'...to the mountains and back, and back...and back.'  I love you to the mountains and back is a beautiful sentiment, and my husband knows how still and peaceful my heart is when I'm in the mountains, but its not that part of the message that snags my attention.  'And back'.  Over and over again in my mind.  It is easy to be bold, strong and fiercely lovable on the path to our passions, to our refuge, to our happy place, to share in laughter and excitement when beauty lies ahead.  But what about when you turn around and head back, when the beauty is behind you, when you are returning to whatever it is you left behind earlier.  It's not as effortless, as graceful to love someone on the way back, nor is it as easy to shine forth your most beautiful self (certainly not for me).

Ever since moving to Maine, John and I are perpetually making the metaphoric expedition to the mountains and back.  We go through a phase where we dream, in both big and practical ways, feeling like all the things we have ever visioned are right there at our fingertips.  We get giddy with possibility.  Driving to the mountains.  And then we go back to work, clean up the house for the sixth time in a day, change our daughter's princess outfit five times, pay too much at the grocery store for poor quality food, enjoy each other's company for 30 minutes at dinner before starting the bedtime routine and then collapsing on the couch with only enough energy to browse instagram and the Free section of craigslist.  And back. 

Its not loving someone to the mountains that makes this journey worth taking.  It's having someone to love you on the way back, to hold your hand in the moments when you're unsure that the future is as bright as the past.  Because having a steady hand to travel back with is what makes us strong enough to pack up and make the journey once more, into the mountains.