Its been almost 14 months since I moved to Wyoming, and I’d like to tell you about it. Wyoming isn’t an aspen forest, a river, a field of wildflowers (all earlier drafts of this post). Nor is it a place I would “either love or hate” as others mused it may be. But it is my single greatest excursion straight into the concept of risk, or bravery, or a willingness to be completely surprised by events. An excursion into these complicated things and not into the overly basic concept of “failure” we often cling to.

I bring this realm of thought all around with me– both as gives me mature pride in doing, but also as frustrates me in my ability to just be carefree or young. But at Grand Targhee Bluegrass Festival this past weekend, I was granted these words by one of my favorite folk girls Sara Watkins, as she introduced a song– “Bettering your lives requires a great deal of risk and that’s the way it’s always been”.

Moment of Gratitude: I’ve never thought that I actually like risk or seek it out, but maybe I do. Maybe it gives fact and action to qualities I don’t otherwise perceive as visible within myself. And what a miracle in realizing that, because I don’t think I’m done with risk. I still have so much to figure out, about it all. So many bold risky places, both within and outside of myself, yet to explore.