I--Emily Hurd--am going on vacation. 

Having just worked every day since Thanksgiving, this is a wee bit overdue.

A week from tonight, I'll be flying home from a tiny cabin that I rented in Estes Park.  It's right on the border of Rocky Mountain National Park. I'll be doing some hiking, songwriting, and bonding w/ a moose or two.  

It's my dream vacation.  And I'm living the damn dream.

The funniest part of this vacation?  I'm taking it alone.  Even funnier? My husband bought me the plane ticket. He knows how much I've been craving solitude and space.  So for my birthday a few weeks ago, he got me the ultimate space.

And that, dear Reader, is true love.

In the wake of Valentine's Day, I've been thinking about what love is.  I used to think it was a feeling of irrepressible desire for somebody, to want them, to want them to want you, to feel lit up by their presence forever and ever until your guts exploded in a puddle of love-steeped goo.

Today, I can say that for me, love is just good old fashioned listening.  It's caring for a person's heart, even when it isn't in alignment with your desires or what lights you up.  It's breezy. True love doesn't have wants or feel a sense of ownership.  It is selfless.  It's respectful, playful, and simple.

And it's what I've got.  How much more could a girl ask for?

(Besides a cabin and a moose).  

I'm off to read books to the kids. Wishing you playful and kind love this week. I'll see you back here next Monday, hopefully with back country moose stories. -Em

P.S.  This pic by Owen Slater is the image that I'm trying to hike to see.  Wish me luck.