Nestled in the Idaho mountains...

That is where I find myself tonight with a heart that is very happy to have arrived at a place where it can breath and find some rest and much love.
As I type Sarah Harmer is singing and Dave and Chris are cuddling on my blow-up mattress covering every available left-over inch on their floor. They are giggling as they try to figure out how to dry out Dave's ski goggles. I suggest that he just wear them without the lens : )
I was dreading the 11 hour drive and was unsure that my body would allow such torture. As so many blessings often come sneakily wrapped, that eleven hours ended up being a much needed blessing of time to just be. Adequately drugged, I traveled through many lands and many emotions. I laughed with and at myself. Cried. I conducted the symphony performing the sound track to Armageddon, sang along with grand Christmas choirs, danced to Fat Boy Slim, and discovered that I can do a great imitation of Louie all deep and rumbly.
The directions that Chris gave me left me feeling like I was traveling in a mystical fairy tale land ... "follow the winding road through a gorgeous river canyon, across a high plateau and through the snowy forest." And it was mystical and so very, very beautiful. The mountains towering as looming black shadows as I approached the mountain range last night. The huge families of snow flakes dancing down from the sky, sparkling as they winked at me. The trees with branches bowing under the weight of their fresh white winter garments.
Even though there were moments of terror as I drove through winter storms, and barely missed crashing into a semi coming down through a pass ... I felt so content.
For some reason I needed to feel the freedom of driving far away from my life. As the distance grew and grew, my heart breathed deeper and deeper. I think that it was important that I was taking my heart to lands that it had never experienced. Blank and with out meaning or memories.
I think that sometimes our hearts and minds are so good at keeping things together that we do not often realize that they have been under stress until we stop.
And stopped I am. I met Chris at the ski hill her and Dave are teaching at, and we headed down into the valley to her friends hot-tub. As the jets moved up and down my back I starred out at the mountain scenery through a frame of wood-logs and picturesque icicles melting from the sun's kisses.
I am so looking forward to being stopped. I hope that I can start again.