I
editor’s note
usually try to write something at least slightly (ever-
so-slightly) profound in my editor letter. I save
this as the very last thing to do usually because the
profound ideas don’t come to me right away. It’s rather
hard to think of something profound today, as I’m
running very late completing this.
I probably shouldn’t admit that, but I am human. I am a
plugged-in mom in an age of active co-parenting, and I
choose this path because it’s important. Important is too
light a word – essential. I feel as though this is essential to
my children. I choose to balance, and juggle, and yup, a
whole lot of balls come crashing down around my ears.
So today, as I sit and search for the profound, I find
myself being drawn to watch the early autumn snow fall
out our living room window. I have continued to pull
myself back to my work, and back to my work, and find
that that snow is beckoning like a siren song. When I
stop and think more, I realize – it’s less the snow, and
more simply the outdoors. The outdoors is calling me.
Most people who know me would snicker at that
thought. I do not appear to be an outdoor girl – my
favorite casual everyday ring is my Tiffany’s 1837
band, I’m milking every opportunity to drive my
convertible, and my black heeled boots are my favorite
with leggings. But days like today, I swap it for a pair of
slouchy wool socks, my hiking boots and a stocking cap
pulled over my hair in desperate need of a trim … and
I’m ready for some free therapy.
Have you ever experienced that first breath of outdoor
therapy? If you haven’t, I highly encourage you give it a
try next time you need a break. If you live in Wyoming,
it’s not hard to find. I step out of my car, breathe deep
and hear … silence. Well, almost. The wind may be
blowing the grass, water may be gliding nearby, birds
…But I digress. Such is the product of a writing session
with a blank screen in front of me and pure silence
screaming in my ears, coming after a series of extremely
frustrating months. Large and small things were added
to our docket of stress that were unexpected and
unnecessary. That old phrase, ‘I know God wouldn’t
give me anything I can’t handle, but …’ comes to mind.
I’ve channeled my inner Clark Griswold ala National
Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation a few times. There is way
too much extra Tylenol in our house right now. Add my
personal frustrations to the dizzying pace of the world
these days and I feel like I’m losing my mind.
are signaling my presence to each other somewhere, but
it’s silent outdoor perfection. On days like today, one
can even hear the snow fall. Have you ever heard how
noisily snow falls? Stop and listen this winter.
On these days, I’m thankful again for my Wyoming
home, and my easily accessible therapy. Does it require
a mountain? Certainly not. A prairie does the trick quick
nicely. There is an energy outdoors, where it is free to
move, twist and bend in a colorless, invisible spectrum.
If you’re still long enough, it will envelope you.
Today, I stand tall and breathe. Some days I walk
a little; some days I sit. Every day I return with a
revitalized soul.
For this holiday season, I wish you peace for your busy
soul. Step outdoors, breathe, and let the energy find you.
Til Next Time,
Kati Hime
www.wyolifestyle.com
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