In the misty mornings

I dreamt this morning…

of writing children’s poetry, of leading an effort to convert grazing land to productive foods for human, of being committed to a yoga schedule, of releasing judgments and anger, of applying for a PhD in ecology, of applying for a Fulbright, of knowing adults who respect and support me, of having a clean bright and warm home, of being familiar with a certain set of wilderness, of knowing what it is I want out of life, like it’s something tangible that I could squeeze out with my bare hands.

The career I imagined materializing out of this trip has only become more elusive.


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