Logistical Delightmare.

I'm finally settling into being unsettled. And learning a thing or two about confidence.

If you’re in a tough spot in life, one of the first things people will tell you is to express gratitude, that showing appreciation for the things in your life will lead you to feeling happier and more fulfilled. But that isn’t always easy from a dark space, so sometimes that advice can feel a little hollow. I’m not one to take anything for granted, especially the help, care, and companionship I've enjoyed over the years. But in the chaos and instability that has been the last five years, I haven’t always been able to feel grateful in a meaningful way. When you are panicked, teetering on the edge personal, professional, financial disaster, it’s not always easy to throw your head back like a Disney princess and yell about how thankful you are. That would be illogical. That would be fucking stupid.

Gratitude has to be genuine and come from inside you. It can’t be forced on you by the positive attitude police. Telling someone who is struggling to be grateful is the opposite of helpful. It just makes them feel guilty for not being thankful. I have been actively trying to express gratitude for years with varying degrees of success. So you can imagine my relief a few weeks ago when I found myself standing at my kitchen sink at Londo Lodge, staring out the window, and a wave of thanks came over me.

I sort of need to set the scene to showcase why feeling grateful at that moment was so strange. The day before, one of my closest friends abandoned me at my country house with no car and no way to get home. So, there I was at the Southern Gate to Yosemite, no way of getting to Fresno to rent a car. Stuck, alone, in the woods for an indeterminate amount of time.