I can picture myself standing on top of a rocky crag, the October wind and rain whipping around me, my heart skipping a beat and my face glowing. I’ve visited this cliff often, and the dirt is shuffled with prints from different styles of boots and high-top sneaker. Yeah, this place is familiar. I crouch down without using my hands to balance me (something my knees have recently allowed me to do) and draw some random designs amongst the sole prints.

Behind me, where the land is solid and flat, lightning crashes overhead. Ahead of me, amongst the mountains, valleys, and crags, the snow has begun to fall. I feel like I could be here forever, watching the weather and the rocks. Just breathing and living.

I really, honestly, truly, deeply feel that it is the daily battle with the concept of “hopeless” that opens my brain up to appreciating every little tiny mundane detail that comes my way. Appreciating the most ridiculous courtesies or looks or pattern of raindrops or comment or anything at all. So tonight, I will sit on my crag and watch the weather.