I found this note on a scrap of paper while sorting through my books today.
Being willing to go is different than wanting to go. Yearning, dreaming, going no matter what and under any circumstance.
On an airplane going anywhere is where I want to be. Unless it’s home, gravity must be stronger in the Wasatch mountains. The landing is beautiful to be sure, but heavy. I feel heavier. My feet are enormous in my lead shoes. The gravity even pulls tears right out of my eyes. My chest is so very heavy. I can hardly breathe.