It turns out in the week since we were last together, I’ve done a fair amount of both.
I hauled ass out of Illinois only to get caught of the tractor beam that was the Bonne Terre lead mine. Being that I apparently have a bit of a penchant for giant holes in the earth, I took the tour, and stayed the night there in town, after eating about five pounds of heart disease for dinner.
From Bonne Terre, I wove my way to the million and a half acres of Mark Twain National Forest, where I inadvertently fell completely off the grid for two days. Finally emerging from those woods, I made the half-day drive to the Ozark National Forest, where I spent another couple days, before making my way to Fayetteville, where I find myself currently. Luckily between finding a river outfitter in Ponca, Arkansas and being offered the kindness of my newest internet friend Quinn and his family, who kindly let me post up at the home for a spell, and use their internets for a couple evenings, thereby allowing me to hammer out today’s post.
In response to the perspective I shared last Tuesday when admittedly I was feeling especially tattered, I appreciate the support folks have offered. The foundation of this entire trip is more complex than I can describe here on this site, and has left me making a nearly bigger batch of lemonade than ever before in my life. Emotionally, obviously some days are better than others, but comparatively to any days spent at work, these days are better than them all.
So ifin anyone has a care, and back to the meat of AHTBM’s daily bread, this is what the week has looked like;
Though the essence of the bumper sticker wisdom is mostly relatable, given all of the emotional highs and lows that this week has held, I find that I’m more drawn to the words of Henry David Thoreau who once said, “not until we are lost do we begin to understand ourselves.”