Things I learned out west:
I can live disconnected from my electronic devices. Amazingly, so can my children. We didn't have wi-fi or television for extended periods of the trip, and everyone survived! But I don't think I could remain Internet-free forever, especially if my dream came true and I actually lived in the middle of nowhere. I think the need to connect with others is powerful, especially if one chooses a career of solitary typing in a windowless room.
Gosh, those hiking clothes are cute! I really want to be more physically active, especially since I have chosen a career of solitary typing in a windowless room. Or it could just be that I want to wear neat nylon pants, fitted jackets, and Merrell Mary-Janes. I certainly do not want to join a gym, but I'm going to have to craft some sort of plan that doesn't involve moving to the middle of nowhere to become a farmer, because that would certainly cost more than a gym membership. Or even my own personal home gym. Huh. Maybe I could sell the home gym idea to the Captain through comparative pricing. Moving to Montana v. turning the garage into a gym...wow! What a bargain!
I can be a restless soul. Well, I already knew that about myself, but I'm sort of fascinated and frustrated by this facet of my personality. I don't think of myself as an acquisitive person, but I wrestle with wanting things that are really almost unattainable. Left to my own devices, I would pack up and move every three years or so, farther and farther away. But I'm surrounded by family, many of whom I brought into this world, so it's not like I'm traveling light.
This might be a lesson the Universe is trying to teach me, again and again. I want to go, and it wants me to stay. It's an addict thing, to want no connections, no ties to bind or judge you. It's easier to kill yourself if you're not beholden to babies and book deals. Apparently, the Universe determined that an unfettered Megan is an unhinged Megan, so it gave me weights, like the sandbags that hold down hot-air balloons.
The surprise is that the weights actually let me fly. My life with the Captain and the pack is what keeps me alive, gives me purpose, and helps me achieve my goals. Without them, I'm adrift. If I ignore the twitchy chatter in my brain I know this to be true, because even in my dreams of Montana I'm never alone. And that is the most important lesson I learned. When I am out west, I feel like I'm home again. But when I'm with my family, I truly am.