"Happiness is not a goal...its a by-product of a well lived life"
All that has been on my mind lately is memories. I feel so nostaglic all the time, way more than usual- and I am not sure why. I've been thinking of time and life a lot, so maybe thats it. It is insane to me how fast life goes, how many memories we make, and how many people and experinences come and go in our life.
Time: People always told me as the older I got the faster time will go by- and man were they right. It feels just yesterday my siblings and I were building forts in my house, or that I was just going to my first high school dance, or going to my first class as a college campus. I know its important to live in the moment and not let the past and the future affect you to often, but lately I have been on memory lane. I think it is actually a good thing, how aware of time I am. It makes me appreciate the time I have with myself, my family, friends, on this Earth. It makes me want to use every moment well. I think that is a beautiful thing.
Memories: As I was driving to Idaho for the secound time I find myself ultimately stuck in memory lane, almost to the point where it is pointing me into a funk. That road-trip that Rae and I took is one of a kind. The people we met, the places we saw, and the memories we made were incredible. Whether it is the sun on my face on the lake in Idaho, or the fourth of July show in Montana, or taking shrooms with Cameron in L.A, or going to the cemetaries in New orleans, or the breathtaking view of Glacier National park, I am grateful Grateful for that time and all the growth and love it brings me.
I find myself thinking a lot, the kind where you feel stuck in your head. This is not a bad thing, I think it is helping me understand just how short and fragile life is. I am doing the kind of thinking that makes me want to make sure that I get everything I can out of this precious life and the people and the experiences I am fortunate enough to have. Life is a crazy rollarcoaster ride and I never plan on getting off.
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