Jodi Hills

So this is who I am – a writer that paints, a painter that writes…

“I saw the world and found my heart. I opened my heart and became part of the world.”

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I had only been in France a few weeks when he said we should climb the mountain.  Sure, why not start with a mountain?!!!  Being from Minnesota, I did not have my mountain legs yet.  But nothing about this trip, this move, this life change, would have occurred if I had been stuck on “maybe,” so I said yes – of course I said yes!  In my head though, I had visions of a long stroll, with lovely views…almost a picnic for the senses really…  Reality unpacked it’s bags within the first few steps and I knew this was nothing like I had imagined.  My heart was pumping faster.  I could feel every rock beneath my Vans.  My lungs hit my ribs with every breath.  I had never climbed a mountain.  I had my doubts that I would finish this one.  The last big hill I had climbed was in the 3rd grade.  Pike’s Peak.  We had gone on a field trip from Washington Elementary.  I had a sack lunch – a peanut butter sandwich and a warm Orange Crush soda.  We raced down the steep hill just before lunch.  Dirt flying everywhere.  I remember that I made it back up.  It seemed straight up.  Dirt and gravel everywhere, making clouds as we raced – pumping arms and legs and grabbing that bit of grass just at the top edge and pulling ourselves up.  Muscle memory…that’s it – that’s what would save me.  I had heard of this – yes, muscle memory… soon now my legs would remember how I made it up that hill… my muscle memory would kick in and I would climb with ease.  Nothing.  My thighs remembered nothing.  I struggled with each step.  It would be beautiful he said, at the top.  For some reason I believed him and kept climbing.  My nose ran, my lungs were exploding, my thighs were pulsing and my feet – my poor Van covered feet…  At one point he said, “those berries are poisonous…”  My first thought was “give me a handful.”  I kept climbing.  I tried to think of a song to keep my body in motion.  Bruce Springsteen – yes, Bruce.  He could keep me moving.  “Tramps like us, baby we were born to run…”  I repeated it over and over in my head to drown out my own heart beat.  I followed him step for step.  I trusted him.  I had no muscle memory of that.  I loved him.  I had no muscle memory of that.  This was all new.   We reached the top.  Everything was quiet.  Everything was beautiful.  More than I had ever imagined.  He was right.  And I knew I could do this.  I could do anything.  I could love him.  I could heart pounding love him.  I could breathlessly love him.  I could love him mountain big…and I do.   Tomorrow it is his birthday.  I think about all the days in between.  Everything that had to happen on each of those days to bring us together, and I am truly amazed.  I am “standing on top of a mountain” amazed.  This love, in my every muscle, my entire being, is unforgettable.  
Happy Birthday Dominique!

Author: jodihills

I am an author and an artist, originally from the US, now living, loving and creating in the south of France. I show my fine art throught the US and Europe, and sell my books, art and images throughout the world.

One thought on ““I saw the world and found my heart. I opened my heart and became part of the world.”

  1. So beautiful, you are so lucky to have found each other and climbed that mountain together .


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