As I rest in these summer months, with a schedule that
temporarily allows for some healthy boredom and quiet reflection, I find myself
looking back to where I was exactly one year ago: Montana. Dubbed as “the last
best place” for its unexpected and quiet beauty, Montana is a place one could
explore mountains, discover hidden lakes, ride rivers, and take distant hikes
among the trees. How I miss “getting lost” in such a place, for in the midst of
such nature I found a deeper connection to the divine. Prayers of thanksgiving
and gratitude of the immense loveliness around me seemed to more easily leave
my lips and my soul could feel the love of God enveloping me. Now living in San
Diego, I can appreciate the nature around me, especially not being land locked
(aka access to the ocean); however, a part of me senses this longing, this call
to be in the mountains once again. I feel this longing reverberating in my
bones, inviting me to step away from the noise and “get lost” in the quietness
of the mountains once again. Upon hearing such an invitation, I immediately
thought of John Muir’s wildly popular quote:
“The
mountains are calling and I must go.”