365 v.34 (106-120)
Almost could tell you I’m getting better at updating this blog, but that would be a lie.
106/365
The quiet parts of this trip were really some of the best ones. Reading scary stories with hot chocolate next to these otherworldly views. The slow, dreamy pause, and letting things unfold perfectly as my therapist had told me. I did some watercolor painting and kicked my feet up. We made dinner together and tried all kinds of huckleberry-flavored everything.
107/365
As of the summer of 2020, the nps.gov website estimated there are 4,680 Yellowstone Bison. “Yellowstone is the only place in the lower 48 states to have a continuously free-ranging bison population since prehistoric times. In the 1800s, market hunting and the US Army nearly caused the extinction of the bison.” (nps.gov) There is an article by Adrian Jawort, a Northern Cheyenne Two Spirit journalist and activist, called “Genocide by Other Means: U.S. Army Slaughtered Buffalo in Plains Indian Wars” that I highly recommend reading. I feel one of the deservedly uncomfortable parts of history that anyone who visits Yellowstone should sit with and educate themselves on is the grief and struggle white supremacy brought regarding the bison we now have a privilege to see roaming. They’re everywhere in the park and it’s beautiful.
108/365
The Grand Prismatic Spring boardwalk. I slipped a few times on the snow here and it sent radiating pain from my hips to my jaw. There were a few moments on this trip where I had to rest more than I wanted to. Still learning kindness with that.
109/365
We woke up hours before sunrise to drive through the twisting mountain roads in the darkness. The stars were twinkling. We went with the calm hope that we would catch the Yellowstone wolf packs on the move, knowing full well we could likely not see them. But we did, we did! I started crying. My first AOL screen name was Wolf2917, I was an airbrushed wolf tee kinda kid. I still remember the diorama I made for my timber wolf project in elementary school, where I used pine needles and dirt and rocks from my backyard. I have a few photos of the wolf pack where they look like tiny ants because I did not bring anything close to a telephoto lens, but hey… new thing to save up for one day. Some other wolf watchers were kind enough to let us look through their lenses for some close ups. Such an awesome moment and memory. The quiet drive as twilight peeled away was probably my favorite part.
110/365
Flew home early when Hiro had a medical emergency. It was the worst feeling to be so far away, wondering if I would be coming home to him at all. I cried a lot in the airports that day, but felt oddly comfortable doing so with the mask. For the first time since before the pandemic, I felt a deep connectedness with the strangers around me. I wondered how many of us were flying with grief, fear, or pain in our hearts; I knew I was not the only one crying there that day. Airports in general are such a weird liminal space of existence, but on this day I knew I wasn’t alone. Shared, yet private. I have been weighed down by misanthropy these last (almost) two years but somehow on a day where I was quietly going through some intense emotions, I felt less alone than I have in a long time. I thought of the Ram Dass quote, “We’re all just trying to walk each other home.”
111/365
This is more important than anything. Rest and recovering together.
112/365
Just more of this.
113/365
The way he stretches his little legs and curls his paws in for comfort. The wrinkle where the vet had to shave his leg looking more pronounced and making my chest squeeze.
114/365
Funny sleeping faces. Perfect sleeping faces. My soft companion on these restless, detached, strange little nights.
115/365
“Post traumatic fatigue” is where I landed in therapy this week. I can’t sleep normally anymore, my entire inner clock has turned itself inside out. I am both exhausted and wired beyond words. I feel like I am trailing behind my body most days. I’m trying.
116/365
Burning bright.
117/365
I almost feel like I’ve regressed to my teenage years where I slept my days away and came alive at night. I’m trying to be kind to myself as this happens. I know it’s the fatigue, I know it’s depression, I know it’s a general unrest with the state of so much. There’s that whole “bedtime procrastination” thing I’ve read about during this global shitshow… have I just dealt with that my entire life, and now there’s a phrase for it? I do like the middle of the night. I love the quiet. I love losing myself in something, like fanfiction, a documentary, a game, some writing, a show... but holy hell, I need to realign. Or we could just make more hours in a day, since we make up arbitrary calendar bullshit to begin with.
118/365
You will always have you.
119/120
Hiro is special.
120/365
The ways I love you and keep you all around me. Lots of prayers these weeks.