There is something about fresh air and exercise, mountains and forested lushness that makes an average city girl like me* let go of all the tangled stresses and logistics of living in our world and breathe deeply, sweat copiously, laugh uncontrollable, and ache like an old woman.
I bonded this past weekend with four deliciously wonderful, wicked, gorgeous women. We hiked, laughed, moaned and bitched, sweat, soaked up the sunshine and company, and let our little balls of tangled messes unravel, slowly and surely, as we traipsed up and down the 4,000 foot peaks. Each deliberate foothold forced us to make room for nothing but balance and breathing. Pushed out the rest of the craziness that we create in our heads and made room for pure, simple, breathtaking bliss. We walked until we felt exhaustion and until the noise in our heads was stilled. And all that existed was the sunshine, the wind, the intoxicating smell of the evergreen trees, the boulders, the water, and us.
And each evening, over red wine and cards, we teased and laughed and commented and reflected on the day. Spilling into our bunks at night completed exhausted. And let the stillness of the darkness and the sound of the wind and rain outside lull us to sleep.
* albeit one that is a wee bit of a granola crunching hippie
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