Puro Movimiento

Today, at this moment, I sit in class but my mind is in a very different place. This Morning I woke early dreaming about the cold desert wind whipping snow through the tiny crack of my driver-side window. It was too dark when I arrived to look for a wind-protected sanctuary. I was far too tired to keep driving this high in the canyon. I pulled over, cracked my window, and fell asleep before slipping into my warm bag. When morning came I awoke to harsh wind – cold snow. After showering and brushing my teeth I decided to get safe. There was no place that I wanted to be more. No feelings I wanted to experience more. I closed my eyes and went back to that cold morning in the back of my truck. I cracked my eyes and peered up from my sleeping position - to my amazement the entire canyon was frozen. I remember thinking “What the fuck? Where the hell am I? The desert is trying to kill me!” I wiggled my way to a sitting position – where there had been only darkness; there was now an enormous mountain reservoir – frozen solid. Only two days before it was 90 degrees in Moab. I was very excited…

This is the first time I've found myself longing for Joe’s but I miss Utah. I miss traveling. I miss the desert. I miss the mountains. I miss the rain forest. I miss the fjords. I miss feeling the glacier creaking in the afternoon sun. I miss the people. But above all I miss the constant urges to go on – to do more – to be motivated by something so powerful that to try to define it seems blasphemes. Perhaps I’m just a loon but I really don’t know how to explain to people that every day I sit in a generic classroom staring at a generic whiteboard, or on a random street in a random town I die just a little –just enough to feel it. The worst part is that with every passing day my sensitivity to this phenomenon fades too. I’m twenty three, soon to be twenty four, and the only equity I've built is intangible, and many would argue has no value at all. My wants are not unlike that of most people. I desire shelter, companionship, a since of belonging - I would even like to have enough money that I do not live on a bubble – yet I cannot shake my desire. It is who I am. It is what I’m supposed to do. There is nothing harder or more detrimental than forcing yourself to deny your path. I am now, as I always have been, unsure about the proper direction to take but I do find solace knowing that that there will be many other days like the ones pictured here.

Puro Movimiento - Solid Movement