As I carried a pile of sticks back over to our campsite in the dark Tuesday evening, I took a deep breath and looked over at Andrew who was building a fire, and then paused to look up to the sky with a sense of acknowledgement and reflection.
As I stared up into the night sky, I was reminded this is it. This is life and these are the moments I live for. I’m not living out any sort of dream. I’m living out the miracle that is the human experience—an up and down, sometimes sideways, tossed and turned, back and forth, brutal and beautiful experience. One that is anything but ordinary.
The last morning of 2014, I woke up in a tent freezing my buns off, happy to be alive. I woke up in a tent with everything I could ever need.
Truthfully, I want to live every single day of my life like I’m in a tent—finding the deepest level of comfort and satisfaction within my own soul, alongside the one I love, and amidst the most minimal of lifestyles. A “tent life” is one that might not appeal to everyone, but it’s one that feels most uncomfortably comfortable to me, and is one that makes me feel most alive.
Today marks not a clean slate, or a new start for a new Sarah, but rather the continuation of a life I’m thankful to be living. As I continue on my journey, I’m eager to greet the opportunities and challenges that await me. But more than anything, I hope to remember that it’s not about what I’m doing in this vast universe, but instead, how I’m living this life I’ve been graciously given.
My hope is that I may live more by having less, doing less and putting my all into the moments that make up each step of the journey. And when I get overwhelmed, might I take a step back and remember that all I really need in life can fit within the confines of a tent.