I'm growing fond of broken people as I see that I am one of them.

I'm sitting in a small cafe alongside a road that winds through a town in Utah called Springdale.  Wppi has come and gone and I didn't have much time to write.  I guess I could go back and write about how inspiring it was, but the current emotional state I'm in is moving me to just write about what is happening now.  I think I made it clear that my trip to lake mead on Saturday came up short of my expectations, and I really hadn't made a final decision on where I was going for the rest of my trip until last night.  I ended up in Zion National Park, and I think its safe to say that the whole self seeking/spiritual part of my trip has begun.  Actually, it's probably more accurate to say that I'm in the midst of it; in the midst of something that started Saturday, and was really set in motion by a string of interactions with someone that I had never met before.  I'm realizing how true that is now as I sit almost as nothing below towering landscapes of the truest majestic beauty.  The heights of geographic wonders the word 'mountain' fails to accurately convey in my mind have, without words,  reinforced my feelings of unworthiness and humbleness to be alive and, in a very big way, covered under the umbrella of God's favor.  This comes only hours after believing that the purpose of my trip was to be reminded that who I am is good, and I should continue to be me in order to find the happiness I'm looking for.  Amazingly, there actually are people out there who respond to that, and act in a way that makes me feel happy. 

So now what?  Within twenty hours I am left reminded to be myself, followed by an awakening that I am as small and insignificant as a fountain next to a waterfall.  To top it off, I am thankful for all of it.

During times like this in my life, I usually find it necessary to eliminate a portion of things in order to make way for new.  I'm thinking that probably means I should let go of the one thing I've held onto more than anything in my life.  I mean, I've set sail from it before, and then a couple more times, but I think it's time to pull the drain plug and watch it drown.  It's hard to drown dreams, especially when they do nothing but float in your mind, even when you're not conscious of it.

There is one day left, however, and I'm game for another aspect of it all.  It's just that sometimes I grow tired of pins and needles.  Facades are a fire on my skin.  And I'm growing fond of broken people as I see that I am one of them.

I'm one of them.