I don’t feel like I can possibly do justice to the gratitude I have in my heart for last weekend, in Aspen, with my favorite people in the whole world. I wrote this immediately after returning home:
Time somehow moves both slower and faster in Aspen. It’s as if you’re flush—with time, with friends, with love, with adventure—and the days stretch on, blue skies and white snow and smiles and laughter, gloriously unhurried. But when it’s time to go home, you wonder where the time went.
Aspen may not always be my home, but it will always be my place. It will always be a place where peace is restored. A place I took risks on, learned from, and simultaneously grew up and grew younger in. I’m so grateful and lucky to have Aspen.
Of course, some of what Aspen is to me is the people who are still there, the ones that are so beyond excellent sometimes I can’t even comprehend how they’re so awesome—my third-wheel couple, their loft, my bromance, the coven, a pregnant diva, a new mom, periphery friends that jump in for the weekend … my heart is so happy.
—-
Back home in Newport Beach, this week has been one to be grateful for too! With amazing, hilarious, connective text conversations with all sorts of factions of friends, with good workouts (why are my abs so sore from planking?) and good work (why so many early conference calls tho?) and the anticipation of the weekend with my former roomie!
My place … is wherever I am, because of the people I’m with. And I am grateful for that sense of place.