San Isabel and Becoming.



San Isabel National Forest, CO.


Spent this Labor day in Colorado, Reconnecting and Reclaiming.

Big sky, the night sky is cold, crisp, makes your nose run but then you take that biting air deep into your lungs and you look up. You see the expansive abyss and enjoy the tiny… you being the tiny in a timeless state.  The cold now less biting but rather the blanket of landscape.

The fire crackles and sways… reds, oranges and blues… the smell of burning birch. The aspens leaves turning gold. Witnessing the season change makes me get a little silly happy. The leaves making their departure from their more original purpose before serving a new one as a coating for the tundra floor.


You cant help but get a dial reset when you experience the Colorado landscape. Sunflowers growing on the side of the roads, the running of the Arkansas beneath my toes and post-card worthy mountains in every backdrop.

This weekend was rugged, exhausting, simple and reminded me of what seems like a lifetime ago when I called my little “pumpkin” tent more than an occasional visitor.  It felt good, like going home to your childhood home and kicking off your shoes good, but different.


I make the mistake that you can capture moments and seasons twice, and this time in the backcountry of San Isabel National forest I did feel the familiar nostalgia of a season passed but with a new feeling….  gratitude for my current season and its complexity.

My pregnancy has not been what I thought it would be thus far. No warm fuzzies or cooing over tiny shoes. Rather, growing this tiny girl,  has been the greatest act of willpower I have had to date. To muster the energy to wake, shower and get my self dressed for work has felt momentous.  Sickness, fear, depression, loneliness and trepidation has been my salty reality for the last several months.

I needed this weekend to remember the gal I once was. To have dirt under her nails, pee outside and pitch a tent in the cold rain. To climb mountains and have a sore body from the work I asked of it. To feel capable and competent.

This wild merger of who I once was and who I was becoming came to clarity this weekend.

My heart is shifting from the suck-the-marrow out of life because you never know when it will be stripped from you perspective ( this fact is still constant and a driving force of my worldview) to something entirely different.

It wasen’t about my esoteric identity crisis I have from time to time but rather about my DAUGHTER.

I wanted to teach her to make a fire… much better than the boys I watched silently do a sub par job.

To show her the creation that connects me with the creator and I pray will  her too…

To teach her to be brave

To teach her that she can strong and vulnerable.

To stand up against wrong

To value the timelessness of our world and the ever constant that its also slipping from out hands…

To be a woman who is both physically and spiritually strong. Resistant to schemes of the attackers…

This labor day, I reconnected with a woman who was and who is becoming, both in my soul and my womb.

I remembered that you can not live seasons twice and perhaps this is God’s gift and reminder of our mortal pilgrimage.

What beauty of wildness of the wilderness. What equal beauty in becoming.

Psalm 127:3-4
Children are a heritage from the LORD, offspring a reward from him. 
   Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one’s youth.



About RootsSinkDeep

Words to keyboard, not quite the same as pen to paper, but for now in a season of flurry and tiny chaos, this will do. Though I long for the feel of graphite under hand I am grateful for fingers that work the same. May you join me as I seek to find joy in the ordinary?
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