Campfires: Kindled

I remember the poetic moment of a smoke-filled cave in Wyoming. I did things on that trip I wouldn't have done otherwise.

Camping in a tent.

Painting cabins.

Climbing a mountain.

Wearing the same clothes for three days.

I've never done these things quite the same way since that summer when I was fifteen. It was a mountaintop moment. Those ought to be rare and defining.

We need mountaintop reminders while living in the valley. Most of our existence is spent asking the 5 W's about the next climb. Yet, here is the reason for writing about life in the valley more than we write about the mountaintop retreat. It is in the in-between where we often find ourselves. If we think we are identified by our mountaintop adventures, then we miss out on our daily fires ignited by basic needs, insatiable desires, and purposeful passions. Stoking the flames from the ashes of our days are unmatched in comparison to temporary warmth from campfires of wet leaves and borrowed timber. Rekindling our inner embers sustains our creative musings from dawn until dusk, before first light and deep into the night.