The Whole Wide World

I spend a fair amount of time in my head down here. Maybe I do up there, too. I’m usually overanalyzing or overthinking something and it’s usually something about myself that the antagonist has brought to my attention. It can get pretty uncomfortable. Self-awareness cuts both ways. It is nice to have the awareness, but awareness brings growth and uncomfortable growing pains. I have a friend who calls the antagonist, the inner critic. Tomato, tomahto. We’ve been having an ongoing chat about the antagonist and they put her in a nice little box with a bow, which I am going to share.  

Maybe our inner critic isn’t always such bad thing? Though it is a pain in the ass oftentimes. But it can and does push us to self examination more, which I believe makes us seek the truth more, and hence becomes better humans. And with that said, too, it can be a torturous existence on occasion. Sometimes you just have to laugh and enjoy the journey. Ok, nuff of that crap, lol.

I’ll leave it at that, too. 

I had only one goal for this two-day weekend; to lounge, impeccably. I accomplished my goal and in doing so, I spent a fair amount of time getting lost in the internet and came to the following conclusion-if you want to know where you are at in life, click on the explore button on Instagram. The suggested content tracks. Literally. Mine consists of; pictures of peoples views from their tents, self-improvement quotes and notes, healthy living hacks, travel inspiration, bike-packing ideas…it’s great and it’s terrifying at the same time. I am my algorithm. 

In some of that extra special universal synchronicity, my Dad sent me an unprompted message today. He said, XO This is how I see you, Annemarie: in Texas I’d take you for a walk around the neighborhood…We hit a crossroad, so I picked you up, you said “Put me down now.” Wow, your 1st words weren’t mommy or daddy but a sentence! I did put you down, but you did hold my hand crossing the street 🙂

I’ve heard the story many times, but I’ve never heard it prefaced with, this is how I see you, Annemarie. As I reread his message, I thought of the Henry David Thoreau quote I put on the adventure landing page of my travelogue, the one with the selfie of me and a sexy llama on top of Montaña de Siete Colores, in Peru. Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other’s eyes for an instant? As I reread the story of my first words, I caught a glimpse of myself through my Dad’s eyes, rather than through the lens of the antagonist.

That little independent me, saying, put me down.