Add x thing and y ingredient.  Did that do it?  Bring this person and remember these steps.  Has that satisfied?  Map out this route and aim for these way points.   Why can’t I seem to find satisfaction like I have in the past?

In all my haste to be whole again, I neglected the fact that my life was not some well planned manifest destiny that I had devised from the outset many years ago.  I could never have even imagined the twists and turns my life would take.  I could never have imagined the wonder, the beauty, and the summits.  I could never have imagined the fear, the terror, and the lows.  So no, I did not construct this life carefully; it happened to me like the hillsides are worn down into beautiful shapes and colors.

Someone recently told me that if you are too focused on the process you will forget why you are there.  I am in need of more days unbound by some imagined plan about what should happen.  I need more afternoons like this one, alone in the woods.  Setting into the granite, hearing the squeak of my chalked hand on rock and the distant squeal of a train yard.  Seeing the light fade as the mosquitoes and lightning bugs descend.  Feeling content to be well rooted in a place, that is no place in particular at all.