2,000 miles away from Jackson, Wyoming, I drove through Vermont’s backroads feeling very, very far away from the only community that’s ever actually felt like home to me.
There’s no good way to get bad news, and the loss of a friend got me thinking about the kinds of people who can make a place feel like that.
On my way to nowhere in particular, I was wrestling with what it means to show up; about how I interact with the people in my life and the kinds of things I see them do for each other. I thought about how I spend my time and what I focus on.
Am I really showing up in this life the way I want to?
All I could do was gaze at the road ahead.
Keep reading:
onward.