I woke up at 3:15 a.m.; a former student of mine has died.
He was quiet, athletic, and stricken with disease at about age 19. However, he died unexpectedly in his early twenties. Surely his family rocks with grief.
But life continues. Prayers are prayed. New goals are made. I went walking with my friend at 4:30 on the track. She talked about forgiving, dealing with illness in her family. The lanes lightened from the rising golden-pink sun. All the shadows on the bleachers left. I admire her and glad we stepped this morning out into our alive day, sorrowful, but joyful track.
I started The Oregon Trail by Rinker Buck. He's justifying his summer trip now, when he left on a mule train down the trail beginning in St. Joe.
Wanderlust. Crazyass passion, he calls it. You have life, find it. Some don't.
If I did something wild and free, it would involve movement too -- hiking, playing music, going on a caravan with a bunch of crazy bluegrassers. Getting good, real good, living in a sound dream.
But, it also involves the today: forwarding the nonprofit I started into years ahead. Daring, moving forward, being hit by the reins (I'm the mule!) in order to pull on. Each day, moment, tells you to expand the ground you see. Keep going, look around. Notice that bountiful mercies abound.
Giddy'up and good day!
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