To the mountain

I awoke at 4am and lay in bed acknowledging this was probably the last time I would be warm and cozy for 48 hours. I willed myself to get a few more minutes of sleep but the mom guilt kicked in.

Were all the school papers packed and ready to go?

Were the soccer uniforms clean?

Was it selfish of me to take three days away to do this?

Ah yes - there is was. The true killer of more dreams.

When did motherhood become a requirement for complete self-sacrifice devoid of any personal achievement?

My eleven year old had expressed her unhappiness over my missing her soccer game while doing Devil’s Path.

I had whipped up a fervent sermon about how important it is, even for moms, to have goals...things to push them beyond their current limits.

I finished my speech expecting a tearful hug and a “you go mom!!”

I was met with a lackluster eye roll.

I did hope she would tuck my words deep inside until she became a mom and then allowed herself to find her inner wild far earlier than I had.

And so I crawled out of bed. Quietly dressed while the house was asleep. Hoisted up my backpack which sadly, had not gotten any lighter overnight.

And I began to drive to the trailhead. Alert the killer quails. I am on the move....