8.24.21 // mountain towns

Mountain towns are my favorite places. But...
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But not only do they bring out the best in me, but they bring out my worst.
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How they bring out the best:
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Mountain towns make me feel alive. The mountains surrounding these beautiful places are seamlessly tucked away into thickets of trees, surrounded by gushing streams from fresh alpine snowmelt, they are beautiful and the towns are like that of a fairy tale. When I look out the window and can feel the alpine air kissing my cheek like the main character in a romance novel. In other words, I feel at home, I feel belonging, I feel calm.
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How they bring out the worst:
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While the mountains make me feel at home, my alignment sometimes is thrown off by my insecurities of being here... let me explain.
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Mountain towns attract some of the most intense and gifted athletes, artists, and creatives. The towns are milling with beautiful souls feeling exactly the same as I described above but who often appear calm, cool, and collected as they are used to braving harsh mountain weather and dark nights of the soul. They are everything I want to be and a lot of the things that I am not.
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Comparison is the thief of joy, and for me, mountain towns are where my thieves run wild... stealing bits of happiness every time I pass an incredible trail runner shredding the mountain, a climber effortlessly crushing a crack, or an artist capturing a landscape’s beauty.
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Now, I'm not sharing this because I'm looking for pity or "but you're so good at X, Liz." I also am sharing in hopes that you'll hold space for my humanity without judgment. This is hard for me to admit. It is hard for me to admit my intense jealousy. It is hard to admit that I am in a toddler stage of learning how to be ok with where I am and what I do in the mountains, that just being here is enough.
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That I am enough.
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I am enough and worthy to be in the mountains.
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I am allowed to feel at home here without needing to be anything more.