As I age there are lots of wrinkles on my face. LOTS. In fact, this reminds me—I need to find a groupon for Botox. And I don’t want to hear shit about how its poisonous….so is my face looking like an 82 year old man’s butt. So shut it. I don’t love the big huge wrinkles but its a funny thing….Im actually, truthfully kind of fond of the fine lines. You know- the ones that are very thin and fine and come out of the sides of your eyes and really show up when you laugh or cry or smile. I actually, honestly like them. Those fine lines.
I took a little trip to Estes Park to meet a dear friend for some hiking the other day. When I jumped in my Jeep I just looked at the crack that runs horizontally across the windshield. You see- for those that don’t own Jeeps or live in the mountains…Jeep windshields are disposable. Truly. I have a 2015 Jeep and am on windshield number 3. The rocks and debris seem to hit the small rectangular piece of glass just right and they crack easily. It might be the roads Im traveling too ;)-. Anyway- Ive given up getting it fixed or replaced with every crack and just live with it. So I got in the Jeep Wednesday morning and looked at that crack as I started down the road. Its positioned in just a spot where below it is the road and above it was the horizon…the mountains. Quite poetic. You’d think a fine line across the windshield on a long car ride through the mountains would bother me. I actually, honestly like it. Its a sign of imperfection. A sign my Jeep has been places. Up trails and on mountains and in the woods. It has earned the fine lines. Just like me laughing, crying, smiling….has earned me the fine lines on my face.
I am married to a dude who’s brain is shrinking. My grandmother, who I was very close to died last week. I still struggle with the loss of my Dad so tragically. I have a joint disorder that causes pain most of the time. I run my own business. I have two kids who need me. Rely on me. Lets just say the stress level has been above average as of late. In every area of my life. So leaving on a Wednesday to drive solo to the mountains to get away, to hike, to drink beer may seem crazy. And I began to think on my drive. I began to wonder- am I RUNNING AWAY or RUNNING TO? Am I escaping, running, getting away from? Or am I growing, learning, resting, finding some peace on this little trip? And I realized….there’s a very fine line between the two.
The guilt associated with accepting that Im running away, escaping reality, leaving my responsibilities behind is real. Its overwhelming. And I accept it. The glee associated with driving my Jeep into the mountains with no cell service and moose and elk and hiking and beer in a random roadside pub is real too. And I accept it. And I need it. And its selfish and awful to some. And so very necessary for my soul.
There are fine lines that run across my face. They come from YEARS of shit and happiness and joy and laughter and crying and adventure. Theres a fine line running across the windshield on my Jeep. It got there by rocks from some back road trail hitting it…and spreading. When that Jeep took me to some mountain I climbed. There’s a fine line between me loving myself and taking care of myself by going to the mountains where Im happy and being a Mom who’s just running away form all the shitty shit at home. And I accept that too. It is all that it is. I accept the selfish, ugly, childlike, shirking responsibility part of me…..along with the part that is teaching my kids to follow your heart, be who you really are, travel alone, climb mountains, drink beer, don’t be afraid of LIVING LIFE.
There’s just a fine line and a few inches between love and hate, good and bad, adventure and danger, running to and running from….I’ve learned that walking that fine line is the best place to be….for me.

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