For as long as I can remember I’ve romanticized the concept of “journaling,” yet I’ve never been able to actually produce consistent entries. The idea of recording ones thoughts, recounting feelings and emotions, reflecting on pivotal life moments or just mundane daily happenings, all of this holds great appeal to me; but somehow, whenever I create the time and space to tangibly produce anything, my mind freezes. Slightly ironic, I know, since many of the people who know me best can attest to the fact that I like to talk (loudly, more often than not)...A LOT.
Well, talking only gets you so far. And I've never seemed to have the greatest memory. I also tend to live a life that goes slightly against the grain: traveling abroad, recreating in the mountains under "risky" pretenses, working seasonal jobs that uproot me from the closeness of friends and family who, in some part of their minds probably think I'm just a little bit crazy, but who like to know what I'm up to, nonetheless.
So. In an effort to document my semi-interesting escapades on this journey that we call "life" (something which, if I'm lucky, at least my mother will read and follow), I begin a hopeful endeavor as a means of capturing and preserving moments in my life for others to live vicariously through, and for me to reflect on both currently and in the future. Like most new [ad]ventures, I hold feelings of excitement mixed with trepidation; yet, as the title of my blog clearly states, the journey is the reward - be it in starting a new blog, moving to Montana, or working on a farm. The message remains the same throughout: follow your bliss, savor the moment, and enjoy the ride.
And with that, I leave you with a poem by Benedicto S. David:
"Time passes like the winter wind.
It is felt for the moment - intensely
And like the wind, fades away into the darkness of the past.
IT CAN NEVER BE RECAPTURED, NEVER RETURNED.
It is a single coming and going -
Every moment comes but once, lingers a while, and is gone.
More precious than gold, more common that stones,
It is an element one never has enough of.
It produces a thirst for MOre, and like a drug, it takes effect and arouses a craving for it,
Only when one finds that he is losing it, FOREVER."
Well, talking only gets you so far. And I've never seemed to have the greatest memory. I also tend to live a life that goes slightly against the grain: traveling abroad, recreating in the mountains under "risky" pretenses, working seasonal jobs that uproot me from the closeness of friends and family who, in some part of their minds probably think I'm just a little bit crazy, but who like to know what I'm up to, nonetheless.
So. In an effort to document my semi-interesting escapades on this journey that we call "life" (something which, if I'm lucky, at least my mother will read and follow), I begin a hopeful endeavor as a means of capturing and preserving moments in my life for others to live vicariously through, and for me to reflect on both currently and in the future. Like most new [ad]ventures, I hold feelings of excitement mixed with trepidation; yet, as the title of my blog clearly states, the journey is the reward - be it in starting a new blog, moving to Montana, or working on a farm. The message remains the same throughout: follow your bliss, savor the moment, and enjoy the ride.
And with that, I leave you with a poem by Benedicto S. David:
"Time passes like the winter wind.
It is felt for the moment - intensely
And like the wind, fades away into the darkness of the past.
IT CAN NEVER BE RECAPTURED, NEVER RETURNED.
It is a single coming and going -
Every moment comes but once, lingers a while, and is gone.
More precious than gold, more common that stones,
It is an element one never has enough of.
It produces a thirst for MOre, and like a drug, it takes effect and arouses a craving for it,
Only when one finds that he is losing it, FOREVER."
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