In my case Pilgrim's Progress consisted in my having to climb down a thousand ladders until I could reach out my hand to the little clod of earth that I am.
Follow that will and that way which experience confirms to be your own.
-Carl G. Jung
So it's Monday morning, here in the luscious green mountains, and I'm [insert tongue firmly into cheek] About to Embark on An Epic Adventure. I've been planning this for months, in a haphazard, practical dreaming sort of way, and when people ask me why - why do I want to leave all of this comfort behind to sleep on the ground and eat weeds for four months? - I have my standard pat answers as to why. "I'll never be more free than I am now," I tell them, or "I want to explore the landscape before it all looks the same." Really, I'm not sure what I'll find, or why it really is time to go. I just know that it is.
And since there's no point in resisting walking one's path, as chock-a-block full of learnable moments and blessedly, painfully, beautifully Real experiences as it's bound to be - for if there's one thing I've learned from studying all those myths and archetypes, it's this - I might as well go and live out my story, as best as I'm able.
All of which leads me to the present moment, typing these last few words and watching as the sweetest eight-year-old in the world attempts to cure her hiccups by pinching her nose and holding her breath. She's all bright sparrow-eyes and white blond chaos and soft, glowing skin in the morning lamp-light.
"I can hold my breath for twenty seconds," she informs me. There's a pause. "Twenty-two!" Another pause, and then,"Twenty-nine -pant, pant- that's almost thirty." Higher and higher and higher.
...If you'll excuse me, I have some children to snuggle before going outside to pour champagne on my front fender and sallying forth into the brightening day. Adventures ho!
