A written set of journals making their way into a blog mini-series.
Family by definition, makes up a group of people related in some way, by specifically blood or marriage, or are individuals who come together and are a couple. How traditional is that?
Because family is so much more now.
What really makes me feel like someone is family, is the mere idea that the love and level of commitment to making the relationship we have, grow, is infinite. The love feels solid, it is secure, safe, welcoming, unconditional.
Family is someone you want to keep safe, a feeling, home, love.
The word family, to some, may mean their immediate family or their guardians in which raised them, or people who aren't blood-related...but so immensely important that you wouldn't dare call them anything less.
The word, family, is fluid and, it shifts in meaning. And the definition shifts because, families are blood-related but are long-time friends, significant others, partners, or your partner's family, parents.
They can and are people you choose, people you choose that make you feel loved, that you want to love, make you want to do better, people you decide to be part of your journey in life because they add value to it, as much as you add value to theirs.
And, after coming back from Alaska, I realized that family also meant the swelling love of the universe.
Journal #4 - August 4th, 2018 9:32 PM AKDT
Today is the last day here in Denali. We're going to a place that's a "no-camping-a-real-bed-hot-water-no-need-to-worry-about-staying-warm" hostel in Seward. So, it makes me grateful for my bed at home—excited that my hips won't cry another night on the cold hard ground.
I'm grateful for my running water, and I'm grateful to have a family to go home to.
This trip actually wasn't what I expected it to be. I've learned about others, nature, yes. But I've learned so much about myself.
I learned how important it is for me to hold and have deep intimate discussions, to analyze, and recreate myself into something better, every moment I get.
I learned to slow down, that at the same time as I grasp for greatness because perfection is never coming and because I know this, I must stop and smell the flowers, sit with them, plant them, and be patient as they grow.
* * *
I miss my family...my people whose brains click in sync with my own, so much so I'm spoiled by their time and conversation.
* * *
I imagine coming back a happier and being a more conscious "let's-get-rid-of-all-our-stuff-and-live-in-the-wilderness" type of person. But now, I think, if anything, coming here gave me the extra push to be more conscious about my decisions. I'll go back feeling encouraged to pursue ideas I already had prior to the trip.
I'll step my thoughts and dreams into motion.
* * *
It's something about Savage River, where we stayed in Denali National Park (initially I was like, why are we going to a place named that *insert upside-down smiley face here*)—
—but truly, the sounds of the river, the "I'm grounded" feeling flowing water can bring, the sights of such mountainous beauty...really changes a person. It makes you think differently, feel grateful for the convenience man as created, yet... at the same time, sad that we're so far from Earth.
It makes you want to do more, for yourself, for those you choose to love, for your family, and be better for Earth too. And that, it helps you sleep more soundly—knowing you're changed and going to, doing, better.
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