#i am tiny.

[wesniall]

there is no way your 18

I hate my life.

[footprintsandcoffeespoons-blog]

For the past week I've been obsessing. Obsessing over NPR podcasts, Moby Dick, Ted Talks, The New York Times, The Ring of Kerry, organically farming, 30 day challenges, The Moth, Furr...

Mostly, I've been obsessing in order to distract myself from leaving this place. 

I know I'm in it now and shouldn't focus on the end BUT, as December 17 creeps nearer, I can't help but to wonder how home is going to feel. 

This weekend, I went on a tour of the Ring of Kerry and every step I took that led me deeper into those mountains convinced me that someday I am going to have to live up there. 

There is a 99% chance that I am completely wrong and just idealizing this seemingly fictional place, but I personally remain convinced that living in the most remote part of Western Ireland might be the best experience I could have to clear a few things up. 

I can't exactly string together a description of the land that would do it justice, but in breathing in the fresh mountain air, traveling along the narrow, windy cliff passes, and listening to natural silence that is impossible to find at home, I realized how possible it is for a place to be so powerful. 

If I stood in one spot and turned 360 degrees I could see many types of terrain in a number of layers.

From one angle, I was on a steep, rocky cliff, looking down at rolling green fields of different shades. Century old rock walls formed almost-squares around little white dots of sheep and cattle. Unpaved roads wound through the hills, intermittently disappearing and reappearing with the terrain. More cliffs created more layers until the deep blue sea met the shore violently. The sun shimmered on a few areas and angry, threatening clouds darkened others. Islands of every shape and size from a variety of distances interrupted the waves until they met the horizon. Yet another shade of blue added to the view. 

From another angle and another cliff I saw four layers of different mountains interrupted with rolling fields and a lake. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that a rocky mountain with some intermittent grass loomed over me. Behind that sat a semi-flat land covered in a small, colorful village. The fields eventually inclined into my peripheral vision. Next, a lake basked in the sun and next to it there was a concentrated area of small white houses. Finally, a series of mountains towered over the small lake town. The pattern continued until the mountain peaks became too small for me to make out... 

Finally, when I looked behind me I noticed the most dramatic view point. I could see nothing apart from a terrifyingly skinny road way and a mountain that hovered over all others in sight. This giant mountain distinguished itself from its neighbors with its lack of greenery. It appeared fierce and rugged in comparison. 

All day, from different points of view, I was tucked into tiny nooks in epic ranges of mountains. There were probably millions of crannies the size of this particular one scattered throughout my line of sight, hidden between the layers...I could hypothetically fit hundreds or even a thousand me's in this spot... My little nook really put my size into perspective. 

That spot makes me feel tiny. It makes me feel less important. However, with my feelings of unimportance comes a light, carefree feeling deep in my chest. With my feelings of unimportance comes an uninterrupted happiness. The pressure is off and I can think clearly for once.