Right Now is Enough

Hondo, Texas.

We travelled, not far, but far from orderly days, catching time on the fly and even the good and noble pursuits capturing the best of us.  A small cabin on a back country farm holstered intentionality worth bottling, diluting and extracting for a lifetime of use. The still sky and unashamed quietness is still with me, and like a teenage camp-high, I tiptoe through every thought and step, eager to catch it's escape before it dares to try and leave me.

Hondo, Texas.

A new light was discovered in each other's eyes as we discussed the year we've had. The pits, when marriage felt more like a long hike through thorny trenches. The maturity, that is best revealed in the mirror of a life partner. The beauty, when life manages to weave threads of wonder, adventure and anticipation through the hazy grind the journey can be. We brought words to these moments, as our hearts settled on the tracks behind us. And those eyes, they glowed with hope and aspiration for what's next.

Hondo, Texas.

Next. It's easy to fall desperately into the dreams of "next," as if now is not good enough. I love that we're both dreamers, together we share a vibrant view of the future. Somehow, I have managed to find a partner equally driven to discover their potential in life. This partnership has taught me a version of love personally significant. That is, the ability to set the other free, standing beside them as they grow, flourish, become all they were meant to become. But, together, we have found tension in this. Though his heart beats to become the best physician, and mine the same for writing, we tend to leave behind the world, community, each other- that which motivated us to begin with. Balancing values might be a lifelong skill to master.

Hondo, Texas.

There was laughter, the silly kind, like when you are a kid and your body trembles in utter disarray. Our minds were off. Which, having lived through the first 1/8th of Matt's medical school path, and me, balancing three jobs while pursuing higher education, our minds are always on, always going, always in a direction outside of each other. 

We do it well, supporting one another, understanding each other's burdens, not placing unrealistic expectations on the other. But conversations are many that I watch him study notes written across his mind as a word I say triggers a medical connection, irrelevant to the discussion. I'm just as guilty, drowning out his presence as the developing story on the page in front of me is too intriguing.

Hondo, Texas.

Here, we had none of that. We had 41 goats, feeding from our hands, grabbing tethers of our clothes and providing endless entertainment from the campfire seating in the backyard. We had competitive, ridiculous, hilarious scrabble wars followed by endless gloating riots. We had long walks in the woods, longhorns eating from our hands while we dodged the clumsy swing of their never-ending horns, antelopes hopping like popcorn, straight up, going nowhere forward. We cooked creative meals, warmed up with late night hot tub talks and made a home next to a flaming pit of mesmerizing embers. 

Hondo, Texas.

Hondo, Texas.