He was born in the summer of his 27th year Comin' home to a place he'd never been before He left yesterday behind him, you might say he was born again You might say he found a key for every door When he first came to the mountains his life was far away On the road and hangin' by a song But the string's already broken and he doesn't really care It keeps changin' fast and it don't last for long But the Colorado rocky mountain high I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky The shadow from the starlight is softer than a lullabye Rocky mountain high.
I’m moving to Boulder, Colorado folks! High up near the Rockies. Where there’s all that pure, clean air. And lots of snow. And young Buffs. And health nuts.
And the occasional person of color’s frequent thought, I see white people.
The plan to move to Boulder materialized pretty quickly. Everything has for me these last few weeks or so. I’m learning that’s how creation moves. Like wildfire. Once you begin to tear down walls of fear and confusion and grief and apathy and resignation, you’re left with a mound of crumbled up old bricks at your feet and an unobstructed view of the clear blue sky and rays from a big, bright ball of fire beaming down on your forehead.
Anything seems possible.
And you can begin to collect the materials of your choosing to build for yourself whatever structure you want. Brick is fine. But maybe you like straw. Or nice little bamboo sticks. Or long, soft, billowy strips of gossamer.
And maybe you don’t want your structure to surround you and close you off completely. A window here. A passageway there. Maybe you prefer to move through a fluid realm, like swimming through water. Or maybe you’re good sitting high up on a sand dune, legs crossed, eating a mango and stroking a cat.
You can create your delightenment however you want and from wherever you choose!
And once you start, like wildfire, it moves.
The lyrics above are from John Denver and Mike Taylor’s “Rocky Mountain High.” It’s not a song I listen to often because it doesn’t really allow me to showcase my Cabbage Patching, Bankhead Bouncing and Running Man dance moves. But, today, I find myself really relating to these words. Not fully. But enough.
More to come! Next time.