I’ve come to see that nothing is for naught

Why do we bother to plan anything when life has a way of twisting and turning and spitting us out in places we never even considered we would see?

As it turns out, our tour of northern New Mexico was kind of crappy. We’ve been spoiled by the mountains of Colorado and the deserts of Utah and found that New Mexico kind of fell flat. We ended up driving up through a town we’d never heard of through five inches of snow in the middle of a blizzard trying to get back to Colorado. As soon as we crossed the border back into Colorado (on the southernmost part of Highway 17, for anyone keeping score), it felt like we could breathe again.

We climbed up and up through this winding road, which traverses the tapering edge of the Sangre de Cristos, and into the sky. Despite the glaring lack of visibility, I could feel the rocky cathedrals above the car. Conversation drifted towards building a cabin nestled deep in these peaks, between the pines with trunks so thick we would have to link arms to embrace them.

We skied for the next few days and I managed to spend some time shadowing my brother, Wil, on the mountain where he works as a safety guy. The skiing was decent and I started to break in my AT boots (heckin finally). On Sunday, April Fools Day, Mom decided to join us on the mountain. Mashed potato snow and tired legs joined forces and Mom ended up tearing her ACL, and fracturing both her fibula and a rib.

So I moved home for a few weeks. It was the first time I had lived at home since I finished my freshman year of college. I struggled a lot with seeking patience, finding time for myself, and the gargantuan task at hand; cleaning and packing the house to go on the market.

I listed to a lot of Joe Pugg and watched Love Actually probably fifteen times. I cried and I sweated and I cleared out the house I grew up in and got a little bit closer to my mom. There is a heavy gift in caring for the woman who raised you, but there really are no acts of service great enough to repay your parents for your life.

The house went on the market yesterday and I am joyful at having accomplished this task which seemed insurmountable not three weeks ago. Today, I am home. The dog is snoring, head on my feet; Matthew is at school, less than a month away from graduation; our future is uncertain but bright. I don’t know where we’re going but we’re going together.

On Monday I’m driving back to my favorite house of worship, Utah, for some dry desert air–from Boulder to Kanab with love.

I’ll leave you with a few stanzas from Joe Pugg’s Hymn 101:

I’ve come to know the wishlist of my father
I’ve come to know the shipwrecks where he wished
I’ve come to wish aloud among the overdressed crowd
Come to witness now the sinking of the ship
Throwing pennies from the seatop next to it

And I’ve come to roam the forest past the village
With a dozen lazy horses in my cart
I’ve come here to get high
To do more than just get by
I’ve come to test the timber of my heart
Oh I’ve come to test the timber of my heart

And I’ve come to be untroubled in my seeking
And I’ve come to see that nothing is for naught
I’ve come to reach out blind
To reach forward and behind
For the more I seek the more I’m sought
The more I seek the more I’m sought