it gets me every time. I thought it would be different now since we were on my territory. spending two weeks in a car with a child hood friend opened my eyes to seeing a lot of things about myself I had taken for granted for a long time. it was a trial of patience of sorts, which I discovered to have significant amounts more than I thought possible. to some degree, I felt what a parent must; catering to needs, finding a place to stay for the night, cooking breakfast, lunch, dinner. directing everyone to places and to see things I thought might be worthy. granted it was not a mission where I was in charge at all, we maintained a good balance in our experience, but I know for certain, many aspects of this trip would have been quite different had I not been involved.

while I  think it was wonderful to open Minka’s eyes to the world from my perspective, I also opened mine. I think I was changing her perspective everyday during the trip and I appreciate being in the company of someone who does not share or understand the culture I have grown accustomed to. I loved being able to share this with her and Jarmo.

I was surprised with myself that I found a surprising amount of patience within to help them along, show them things they’d never seen and helping them camp and travel the way I do. I appreciate their patience with me, allowing me to show them this and being troopers about allowing it to happen and to allow for such experience. after the two weeks were over, I found myself, maybe in need of a short break, yes, but not in anyway tired of their company. I could have kept on for weeks to come. after a few days on the road we all fell into each others rhythm and knew what to expect from one another. the life on the road fell into an easy rhythm while we sought new things to see, explored yet another new city, town, mountain, village or country side.

when they left and I got home, to my quiet little life, I realized how quiet bozeman really is. after seeing the world out of my car for two weeks, I was a little stunned by how quiet it was all of a sudden. it took me a few days to remember why this is the life I really wanted for myself. I know now, that had it not been for my heart break, I would have not moved out this far. it took me about a week to recover from the quiet and I am still reeling. this weekend’s mountain bike ride and sunday’s crazy excursion made me giggle with joy and grip my paddle in horror when I rounded yet another bend on the yellowstone river and saw what I was about to go down on my boat. and then I realized how stoked I am to live in Montana.

while we were on our trip I learned quickly my resilience and endurance for being outdoors. the things I’ve taken for granted about myself. I’ve known for a long time that I am something of a badass. burly, as one might say. but I forget the extent of this frequently and I often belittle myself, my abilities and my accomplishments. I realize how many things I set out to do that most people would not in their right mind plan for a sunday afternoon. or how little I really get scared in the woods. or how many miles I can really cover and how many peaks I can climb. my strength surprises me often. human abilities surprise me often, how far I can keep going, and still not be nearing a collapse. I take little things for granted. like the fact that I fall on my mtn bike all the time. and I simply pick myself back up and get back on the horse that kicked me. I end up with bruises and scrapes every weekend and it does not slow me down any. I am afraid of heights but I go do it anyways, cause my limitations and fears are more a dare for me than an inhibitor.

when Minka and Jarmo left I came to the awful realization, again, that I have cursed myself to for the rest of my life to miss the people, culture and language I hold so dear. I will never share my everyday life with my mom. and I miss finnish language desperately. after speaking finnish for two weeks, I was left feeling empty and regretting my decision. and as always, wondering, what the hell am I doing here? it’s inevitable. it happens every time. I so desperately would want finnish to be a part of my life. the phrases used and the richness of the language sends me giggling frequently, just by how awesome it is. it’s especially hard to fight off these thoughts in my mind when I am essentially alone here. during this week of ‘mourning’ that always happens after a finnish invasion (or excursion) I find myself wanting to be completely alone. I don’t want to talk to anyone and I just want to be alone. like my mind is too full to want to digest anyone’s thoughts or words. like I am completely uninterested in what anyone has to say. I just want to be by myself and be quiet. and still.