ancient stillness

July 25 - I have diagnosed myself with a disease. A curable one. But a disease nonetheless.Writers block.One would think, after spending a week on vacation, I would return with some words. Surely, after spending time in the mountains, God would speak to me.... Right?Surely--I mean, take a look at my photos--I would be somewhat inspired.And He did.And I am. But the words won't seem to come. I want to tell you about how big the sky was. About how I felt so small, standing in the foothills of the Rockies, and looking up at the heavens.... wondering where they began and where they ended. I wanted to tell you about the spirit I felt. About how, if you slowed down a minute, you could feel it. This wild, wild west... It was as though man had come and tried to tame a wild beast. And only managed to train him. I wanted to tell you about the stillness I felt. As if, just maybe, this was hallowed ground.... as if these mountains had witnessed far more than we could imagine. Like every crag and peak was keeping a secret. I wanted to tell you about how I felt challenged. Because it was hard to breathe. Because of the enormity of it all. Because of the homeless. Because of the way the mountains seemed to whisper.... "faith is all it takes to move us".I wanted to tell you about the man who played the saxaphone on Pearl Street. And the old man who sat cross legged with a sign that read, "Change... everybody needs it." And the young man on the Light Rail who waved at me. About my cousin, who while I was there, had to learn about stretching yourself too thin and that eating too many sweets makes your belly hurt (what a great lesson to learn at 11 years old). I wanted to tell you about this sense of "home" that I felt. A sense that my bohemian spirit would be welcomed... that beauty and challenges awaited me there in forms that were overwhelming and strange. I wanted to tell you about Donna... when she compared the July haze to our lives. The feeling I felt when I walked through security in the Denver airport and realized I was headed back to Kentucky... feeling as though it had all been a dream. The altitude sickness I experienced when I got back to Kentucky. How much I just wanted to drink lots of water and eat blueberries and avacados...I wanted to tell you about all of that. I wanted to be wise and creative and use pretty words so that you could "see" what I was writing about. I wanted to touch someone, so I didn't feel entirely selfish about the whole ordeal (but maybe, that's the point of vacations...).Normal routine has kicked back into gear. Five/six hours of sleep a night. Haven't seen a berry or an avacado (save guacamole in Don Pablos) since boarding that plane. I think my soul stole a bit of that ancient stillness....There are moments when I can feel it.... telling me a secret, reminding me that all it takes is faith.