Yesterday’s contemplations bled into today.
Me, myself, and I. What am I? What am I comprised of? What are the foundations of me? And it’s normal for me to constantly come back to such a topic, especially as I near the closing of this chapter of my life, and proceed onto the next soon enough next year.
My thoughts wandered to Ireland. North Carolina. A little bit of Scotland and New Zealand, too, for good measure. And then to Vancouver (sorry baby).
Mountains. I’m a woman raised among the mountains- the Rockies, to be specific. I used to loathe it when I was much younger, finding it dull and boring. In my late teens, and now through my twenties, I’ve come to love mountain living. The quiet, the calm. The geography unfathomable and unable for humankind to replicate in such intricacy and precariousness.
So what is a “Highland Heart”? Rocky, wild, beautiful, delicate. Passionate, messy, hard to map.
I love fiercely. But no one will ever have me tamed and caged. I’m highly conservative about my heart and world, hence why it is very few who try and make the trek, that arrive into the depths of me.
I’m perfectly at peace with it. I don’t have much choice, seeing as that side of me won’t change. It’s been tried before.
I can’t change. I’ve earned the scars around my heart. I’m not paranoid, nor am I afraid of the pain. I’m just tired of wasting time.
My heart is like the highlands, wild and beautiful in its own right. And a little dangerous, too.
My heart belongs to the mountains. Where there are mountains, I will find my calm.
Just as I’ve found the drive to leap ahead and finish up what needs to be done for the semester. Spent all night, trouble shooting for an outdated lesson supplement. But my projects came out fine. Maybe not entirely up to par…but passable indeed!
Wild and reckless and fiercely outgoing in m quiet demeanor…
I possess a Highland Heart. ❤