Et lux in tenebris lucet et tenebrae eam non conprehenderunt

In January, I found myself at the top of a ski run in Flagstaff, giddy as a child. I had not been skiing since I was about 13 and boy did it take me back. And here I was, slightly hesitant to go, but excited to conquer this mountain. Have you ever just let yourself go, sacrificing every caution and hesitancy to the speed of the slope? The slight tickle in your stomach as you start to gain momentum, the burn of each snowflake as it hits your face, the wind ripping through your hair? And as you cut from the left to the right, your movements become natural, innate, instinctive, as if you were born to soar with the yeti gods and snow angels. Have you ever felt that way?

Well neither have I.

Truth is, I went about 15 feet before I had my face pile driven into the snow with one leg up like this and one arm down like that. The sound that my knee made as it did a 360 was my body's way of saying, "What the hell were you thinkin?!" It seemed like everyone was slowing to look at me like I was a wreck on the freeway. "No blood here, keep moving along." I even noticed a crow up in a spruce tree seem a little too interested in my distress and probably hoping for my demise. I tried again.

I managed to stay up a little longer before going into some convulsive "Dance, Dance, Revolution" routine. SMACK! Flat on my back, sliding head first, complete with a complimentary snow wedgie. Oddly enough, now there were two crows watching. "No bully mountain is going to give me a wedgie and live to tell the…SMACK! CRACK! BANG! TWANG! And there went my knee.

So as I humbly hobbled down the mountain, you know, to the flat spot were they teach 5 year old kids how to ski. I told the others to go on to bigger better slopes and I would practice on my own. The crows must have liked that idea, because now there were 5 or 6 and they followed me all the way down. I wonder if they always follow someone who looks like they are trying to kill themselves on the slopes.

But I found myself alone for 3 or 4 hours.

The old me may have been mad or disheartened by this. I may have been bitter because of all the potential fun that seemingly had gone to the dogs along with my knee. But I thought it was all pretty funny. I actually had a lot of fun chilling on the outdoor balcony of the lodge--thinking and soaking in the ambiance. I could not wait to get home and tell Tami, facial gestures, body contortions and all, of how I screwed up my knee.

I seem to get that way a lot now…which is surprising since I really am a loner by nature. It has always seemed like when I am alone time slows down. I have all the time I need to be introspective and prune away those aspects of my life that are a waste of time. Like a tree, cut back the lesser qualities to leave room for the greater ones to grow. According to the sophist, Philostratus the Elder, "On wild trees the flowers are fragrant, on cultivated trees, the fruits."
If this was true, what better way to prune and cultivate ones self than to cut loose some of the fragrant and ever-blossoming distractions of society in order to lead a more fruitful life?

I remember having my roommate drop me off at the foot of the Pinnaleno Mountains and telling him to come looking for me in 3 days. He thought I'd go crazy after a couple of hours not having someone to talk to...He did not realize my good friend Thoreau was in my backpack. In one of my lone journeys across the American west, I slept on a bench in a park in downtown El Paso. After hitch-hiking in from Amarillo and I watched the low clouds turn red as they drifted over the city lights. I remember then, wondering that night, if I was even capable of feeling lonely since that had become the norm for me. Months later, I remember sitting under a palm frond umbrella at 1 o'clock in the morning on a Mexican beach. Sea salt in the air and my mind racing every bit as fast as the storm that was approaching from the west. I sat hoping that I would be normal again, rather than resolutely numb to my constant solitude. But I was so happy alone—no one seemed to grasp the awakenings I had gone through over the years. So I kept them in shadows. I was so happy alone—as long as I had something to write on and something to write with, I had all that I needed.

It was a couple years after this that I was sitting next to the podium at church. The Bishop had asked me to speak for about 15 minutes about some of my experiences, probably thinking that a person that had not slept on a bed for 14 months probably had a story or two to tell. That's when I saw Tami walk in to the congregation and sit down. I had never wanted to ask someone out so bad in my entire life. She seemed far too lovely to ever be audience to my awkwardness…but unlike others who I never gave a chance to really get to know me, I wanted to find out if I could let her in.

There is only one way to describe the influence she had on me...

Et lux in tenebris lucet et tenebrae eam non conprehenderunt

"And the light shineth in shadows: and the shadows did not comprehend it"

I almost backed out of our first date. My stomach was in knots. I had not been on an official date in over a year. I was so nervous and more than aware that she was out of my league in more ways than one. I could not understand why, but by the end of the date, after just opening up and swapping story for story, there was more than a glimmer of hope for us. The darkness and shadows were no longer necessary protections and I welcomed the light from her openly.

I still find myself alone from time to time, like up on that snowy ski slope. I still like to get out and do things on my own that are self-cultivating and I have some solitary hobbies that Tami does not share. But these things in themselves never bring as much joy, as when I run home to Tami, to tell her of the days activities. I have known women that have made me weak in the knees before; but she, like any true love, makes me feel stronger than ever before. I know that the truest glimpse of what I really am will be seen in her eyes as I learn to cherish her as she should be.

I hope all that are reading this have someone in their life that is their 'true north'—someone that gives you your bearings when you feel lost at sea. Life is too short to not find someone to adore before they are taken from us. Life is too short to not tell them so.

Especially with all these dang crows still following me...It was just a spranged knee...nothing fatal, give me a break!