This is not a trail
This is my running trail. 
Here in northern Colorado, the world smells like granite, dry clay, baked grasses, and ponderosa pine, and sounds like wild canyon rivers and the wind through cottonwoods. I live on the edges of things here – edge of the foothills but not yet mountains, edge of town but not quite in, edge of middle class but really working poor, edge of conforming but never really two feet in that circle.
The edges are where wild things live, at the confluence of safety and need. Wildlife tends to travel along the boundaries, a treed fenceline, the edge of a meadow, just below ridgeline, trying to stay hidden, while trying to find food, water, and each other.
Finding what nourishes us is often at odds with what soothes and protects us. We want to feel happy, fulfilled and nourished by our work, our homes, our circle of friends and family, our choices. Yet again and again, we prioritize against our own fulfillment. We choose the safe path, the beaten trail.
Safety is supposed to keep us alive while we find what we need to really live. For me, that safety has meant always having a steady day job and a house, supporting my family. For decades, I have prioritized responsibility and duty. I’m a big believer that kids need stability to thrive, and I have followed that path, missteps notwithstanding. But my family of chattering children have become a tribe of grown human beings, out making their lives.
I’ve always been a fan of the credo, “If you’re not living on the edge, you’re taking up too much space.”
So my plan is to spiral out of control. No drama, no freaking out. Just letting go. Running away. Trekking away. Or biking away, sailing away. Taking that road less traveled by whatever means available. And letting “way lead on to way,” my favorite part of that Robert Frost poem.
This is not a trail. This spiral is more like the yellow brick road, which starts to uncoil at your feet the minute you seek it…and leads you on the adventure to your own courage, intelligence, and compassion, your heart’s truest desires, which is the grand adventure of your actual life. The spiral road just keeps widening, to encompass the whole world, and I’m going to go – literally.
Wild, isn’t it?