My blogging about my time here feels self-indulgent and -involved, and even kinda icky. Who else would care about this? However, it has happened that when I’ve written stuff I thought no one would give a flip about, it’s turned out to matter to more people than I coulda imagined. Maybe it’ll happen again, here—another post from this series, if not this specific one.
One practice I have for getting myself sorted out, that I haven’t practiced in ages, is getting outside and walking about. I knew Telluride had loads of trails and open space are pretty much everywhere. Thing is, I didn’t know where any trails were, especially any that an outta shape guy like I could do. So I emailed a friend who’s lived here for over twenty years, and she gave me some ideas. Also, while at the library yesterday, I came across a map of hiking trails, and one of the librarians called the local bookstore, who confirmed they had copies; so I went there and got one.
One such hike was to a waterfall that’s just half a mile from the end of a street. I went there, hung out for awhile, took some pictures that I posted on Facebook. I’ve been looking over my map, considering Rosemerry’s suggestions, and have begun plotting my “getting outside when your insides aren’t working” time.
Last night, I went to Art Walk, visiting a handful of galleries. Again, the simple act of getting out and about was better than staying inside for the hour or so I was walking. Too, Telluride is a different sort of magical, at night.
I can’t recall any insights during either of my walks, to the waterfall or Telluride at night, but ideas for writing have been frequent—which could be proof-positive that I am a writer, that being so is an essential aspect of who I am. However, while at the library, yesterday, I began seeing my behavior during the previous evening’s concert in a different light.
In addition to being a watcher of people, I also delight in seeing people enjoying themselves. Even moreso, I delight in seeing the light come on in their eyes when they see a little more clearly how nifty and special they are. Parking myself on the periphery, watching and taking mental notes, isn’t a bad (dark) thing. Rather, it’s essential to allowing me to see people in their natural state, to witness the uniqueness that sets them apart, that is their gift to share with others. It’s my own uniqueness and gift. (But I still need to be engaged, eventually getting off the sidelines.)
Today’s the start of the second day. It’s time for me to get out and see what it brings.