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shifting

I feel the urge to tell you that something is shifting. I can feel it, I’ve been feeling it. This feeling is rising high, pulsing through my body, and getting ready to wash over me like a tidal wave. I’m not sure what it is yet, and maybe you don’t care, and maybe I shouldn’t either, but then when I say that out loud it just doesn’t feel right, pushing that sort of truth aside merely because it’s an emotion.

It’s like when you can smell rain before those little droplets start hitting the ground, or the way you can tell when winter is finally going to start melting into spring. It’s a feeling I can’t put my tongue on long enough to taste what’s actually there.

I can tell you though that this all started in a little cleared out patch of land not to far off from the lake. I was in New York (and my gosh New York you always do this to me) up in the Adirondacks, a place I hadn’t been to since I was a little girl, and there I was, sitting, well mostly sitting, uncomfortably with myself for what seemed like hours, wondering what I was going to do for the next eight days of being without texts, emails, instagram, and every other buzz and ding and worry that somehow all fits into my pocket. No grocery stores, no music, no errands to run, just me, my family, and the lake. Stillness. Quiet. Something that felt a bit like eternal solitude.

And once again, New York showed up for me, ready to change me. New York, the place that either slaps sense into me or embraces me with love and mercy or on a rare occasion like this one, does both.

And lots happened in those eight days, lots. But upon leaving I took something with me, I took peace and wholeness and beauty and listening, as much as I gosh darn could. I took simpleness and letting go and reflection. I took as much good as the lake was willing to give me, as much as I was willing to learn from. Of course, camping in the wilderness for eight days will change you, sure it will, but what I wasn’t expecting was the ripples from something as tiny in time as eight days to really change me, like “wow I think I’ll just live in the mountains by a lake for the rest of my life” kind of change me, like, “I didn’t miss a single thing about going back” kind of change me. I mean the campsite did have amazing showers, so I really did have everything I could ever need.

I’m in a changing of seasons in my life and I’m enjoying these next few weeks before the dust gets kicked up again and the storm begins to roll in. And next summer, New York will be there to do the same thing, help me grow, grant me strength, offer that most wanted mercy, and slap me as much as I’m deserving. I can smell the rain in the air, and those droplets are getting ready to hit the ground.

8/03/2018

Bre'an Angell

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8/03/2018

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Bre'an Angell

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  1. Keren

    August 6th, 2018 at 12:33 am

    Hi! What a beautiful essay! You remind me of Shauna Niequist -I can sense the same desire for peace & beauty in your poetic sentences.
    Thank you for these words which make me realize i have the same hunger & longing in my soul; i think i need to find a lake. And leave my phone behind.

  2. Bre'an Angell

    August 13th, 2018 at 6:41 pm

    Mmmm. Yes! I love her book Present Over Perfect, the first time I read it was actually while we at the lake and it felt very fitting. Thank you for that tremendous compliment!

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