I woke up with sunshine streaming into my bedroom, the mountains surrounding my town illuminated in bright green vegetation. And yet, I felt in no mood to celebrate Independence Day.
What’s there to celebrate at this juncture in America history? I’m not specifically talking about what went down in D.C. yesterday. I’m talking about the ongoing, severe division and utterly toxic rhetoric being spewed from all sides of the political world in America.
Amid the pounding of beers, grilling of hot dogs and hamburgers, and the blowing up of stuff all across this country today, I really, truly hope that for one moment, you take a pause and reflect on you (yes, you).
How are you contributing to society? Are you engaged with your immediate community? Are you compassionate to strangers? Are you aiming to actually help others, regardless of their political, religious or cultural differences? Are you able to listen respectfully to differing opinions and look to find compromise? Do you run towards the house fire or do you run away from it?
The vivid image I hold in my mind for inspiration was the coming together of all walks of life during Hurricane Helene when it destroyed Western North Carolina last fall. I saw every background and ideology gather resources and help their neighbors in every capacity possible.
In that immediate aftermath of Helene, nobody cared what you believed in. The only questions asked were, “Are you okay?” and “Do you need help?” No judgment. Just human beings coming to the aid of another. And that’s the America I want to live in, and envision.
The future of the United States is shaky, blurry, and uncertain right now. Shit, it has been for a long time, going back decades. And I remain an eternal optimist. I hold out hope for us (humans). What else can you do? Give up? I won’t. Nor should you.
So, now that, that’s out of the way, pictured in this column is the Missoula Club in Montana. I came across this photo when I was looking through my files this morning for something else. I actually snapped the image when my former girlfriend and I were traveling through Montana last year.
And since then, as I sit here and type away in a Waynesville coffee shop on the Fourth of July, the landscape of my existence has drastically shifted, both physically and emotionally. The flood from Helene took out most of my earthly possessions when the ravaging waters tore apart the storage facility I had everything in on the Pigeon River in Canton.
The girlfriend disappeared at Christmas, leaving me alone in our shared apartment, wondering just what in the hell happened to, well, us? How did we get here? How did we let it get to this point? But, alas, hindsight is 20/20 as they say. And, now several months later following our demise, I find myself curious about the “what now?” for me.
The weekly online therapy sessions have helped tremendously. And I look forward to them. I knew going into the sessions that there would never be any “grand reveal,” But, I did want to have this outside voice and perspective to help me see patterns in my choices. I wanted to get sharper mental tools to approach life smartly, to approach relationships with a better sense of self amid the chaos of the world itself.
Thus, I’ll be once again heading to Big Sky Country in the coming days. Actually, by the time you read this here column, I’ll most likely be somewhere in Midwest, cruising west along Interstate 70, 80 or 90 towards the Rocky Mountains — adventures and destinations unknown.
And, as per usual, there will be a lot of self-reflection along the way, which is why the open road has always felt more like to home to me than any kind of stationary location where I lay my head, where I place my books on the shelves and my vinyl records on the small player the corner of my living room.
It’ll be interesting what will run through my head when I return to the Missoula Club, my order always the same when I belly up to the dive bar — double smash burger from the very old grill directly behind the counter and a cold domestic draft beer to wash it all down. This go-round I’ll be traveling solo, the faded memories of her and I wandering into the same establishment now swirling around in the ceiling fans.
That sentiment of time and place will appear during the return to my friend’s humble abode in Rapid City, South Dakota, for a night off the highways and backroads of America; that freezing cold, yet refreshing creek in the depths of Montana; the barbecue joint in Eastern Idaho; and that trail pushing through the last of the snowpack in the Medicine Bow-Routt National Forest outside of Laramie, Wyoming.
But, the beauty of existence, and being able to continue down the road of life, is that new memories are constantly being created. Even though the background is the same as when you first stood somewhere, anywhere, and with someone, you now stand able to conjure the tangible and intrinsic nature of your own journey, and at your own pace.
It’s Independence Day. After I finish this column, I still have laundry to do, and will be working on more newspaper stuff while waiting for the completion of the washer and the dryer at the laundromat in West Waynesville. Thankfully, there’s Wi-Fi, where I can write articles and submit them to my publisher who’s probably enjoying the arrival of his latest grandchild (due yesterday). To that, I wish them all the best.
Do the laundry. Finish the articles. Head back to my quaint apartment. Fold everything and put it away in the correct dresser drawers. Change into my running clothes and find some serene trail to disappear down for an afternoon run. Then? Who knows? Hopefully there’s some good restaurant open on this national holiday, one where I can track down a delicious steak and Coors Light with the mountains blue on the label.
Life is beautiful, grasp for it, y’all.