This weekend I took an impromptu trip to the mountains. I felt like it was something I needed to feed my soul – which was been feeling rather battered and broken lately.
Last week a friend mentioned she was going to the mountains for a birthday celebration and I was immediately envious. I grew up in a city very close to the mountains and spent a significant portion of my childhood and early adulthood surrounding by the gorgeous giants. Whenever I go back there, I am immediately taken back to a place of calm groundedness. This envy of my friend, I realized, came from something deep down inside of me that needed some love and attention.
When I woke up Friday morning, I decided it needed to happen. I told my husband that I needed to go and that I was either going alone or we were going as a family. When he realized I was serious, he really had no choice but to agree to come. I booked a last minute hotel room to fit our family of five, packed everything for me and the kids, ran off to clinic for the afternoon. I was walking on clouds for the first time in weeks. Finally, after our workdays were done, we set out for the long drive to the mountains.
It was dark when we arrived, and there was a feeling of stealthy surrealism as we snaked along the highway between the tall mountains we knew were there but couldn’t see. The crisp mountain air that enveloped me as I unloaded the family was the first sign that I was where I needed to be. In the morning, I opened the curtains of the hotel window to reveal the beautiful majesty of the Rocky Mountains. I was finally home.
The day was a beautiful balance of hotel pools, walking, scenery, playgrounds, coffee, sunshine, and of course, studying. I didn’t mind studying in the mountains because I was soothed and lifted out of the despair I had slowly been spiralling towards. I actually joked to my husband that he should leave me there for the week and come back next weekend to get me. I might not have actually been joking… Even though I knew I was only there for the weekend, I allowed the balm of the mountains pour over me and seep into the cracked and hardened pieces of my being that have been deepinging with the passing of time.
On Sunday morning we packed up our bags and our kids and walked near the river before it was time to head back into the real world. We took our time and stopped for brunch, did some shopping, and then watched the silhouettes of the mountains disappear in the horizon of the rear-view mirror. Even though the visit was short, it was just what I needed to take myself through this last month of never-ending studying.
Now I sit, again, in a coffee shop preparing to kick off another week of intense and soul distressing studying. But the countdown is on… it’s now April and that leaves less than a month.