The weekend's journey was a true gift. I made up for last year's missed opportunity and finally got to experience firsthand the full power of Brandi Carlile's music. A friend who is lucky to be a veteran of her shows asked if I was inspired to dance and cry; I did both, though much more of the former (we were, as she noted, one of the rowdiest crowds, which I think is awesome since women were in the clear majority). My only regret is that I didn't bring my niece. As someone who has fought (and continues to fight) her own way through plenty of darkness, both inner and circumstantial, I left the pavilion inspired by Brandi's ability to transform her struggles into something so beautiful because of, not in spite of, its honest rawness.
Before coming back I spent some time wandering (running most of the time, sliding down unexpected rock faces on my butt for the rest of it) through the woods right down the road from where I stayed. By the time I pulled into my parking space back here in the Elm City I knew that something in my outlook had shifted. Changes are underway, long-neglected dreams are being brushed off, isolation is softening into connection as I learn to accept and embrace where this path has led for now...
knowing that a place with more beckoning views and a deeper hold on my soul will always be down (albeit a long way down) the road...
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