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☽ life in the eastern Sierras 🌄
🜃 deep feeling low desert creature 🏜️
𖥔 photographer @kykhalil.co 📸
ᝰ on a sort of mission, quest, thing🔮⋆⭒˚.⋆
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it’s never enough time. if you’re lucky enough to still have them around, go cuddle your soul dog for me ❤️‍🩹🐾

#souldog #seniordog #alldogsgotoheaven #dogsofinstagram #dogphotography
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I recently walked a hundred miles through France, Italy, and Switzerland around Mont Blanc with my dad. It’s rare and precious to get this much quality time with a parent as an adult, and as a parent myself. I would be so lucky to have this kind of experience with my girls when they’re my age and I’ll never forget how lucky I am to have a parent who was willing, able, and available to do this with me. 

I knew the Tour du Mont Blanc would be good, but it somehow managed to blow past every single expectation I had, and it surprised me in ways I could never have expected. Not only because I needed a really long walk after the last few years, but because on that walk I got to meet people I never thought I would, and got to welcome back parts of myself I thought I’d never see again. All in a setting with the kind of beauty that really earns the word breathtaking.

I walked all one hundred miles with the big camera in hand or holstered on my shoulder. I knew I’d have to do that, because the second the rig goes in the backpack, it’s too easy to settle for the low hanging fruit quickly captured with an iPhone in hand. As a result, I ended up with hundreds of juicy frames immortalizing the wild drama and pure cinema of the Alps. The sore shoulder was a small price to pay for all the joy of turning a hundred miles of walking and memories into something I can hold onto.

I’ll be sharing the moments I carried home from the Alps over the next few weeks. This is only the beginning <3
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In my author era.

Currently 72,000 / 80,000 words into the manuscript for my memoir, "Boldly Live."

📷: @kcyasso

#portrait #portraitofme #author #authorera #chrisbrinleejr
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36.

I loved. I lost. In every way that mattered, I laid it all on the line. I stood tall for what was right, moral, and just. Quieted my ego so that I could trust—embracing outcomes that exist beyond my control.

I danced. I cried. I mourned. I danced some more. Witnessed innumerable brilliant sunrises and magnificent sets by myself and in the company of loved ones.

I accomplished what just a few years ago would have seemed for me, an insurmountable mountain feat—skiing solo across my favorite range.

I ran across the Dolomites. Guided clients in Nepal. Rode a motorcycle through Vietnam. Discovered the magic of wild black ice in southwest Colorado. Dived down to unfathomable depths in the Philippines—on a single breath of air. Finally made it to Japan.

I deepened my relationships with family—both biological and chosen. Showed up as a good friend whenever I could.

Taught people how to climb ice, how to ski. I faced fear on the sharp end of a rope, and kept it together when catastrophic failure felt imminent. Sent my hardest routes to date.

I blew oxygen into the faltering flames of my passion for photography—and captured some of my favorite images ever. I got my proudest writing published in the very best print magazine.

I read books that torched the facade of normalcy, revealing the depravity of orchestrated inequity—and with that newfound knowledge, deepened my own empathy and resolve.

I searched my soul and asked difficult questions about purpose. Reconciled with necessary changes in direction. Cut off my hair. Began taking the first steps along a new path—embracing the uncertainty that characterizes such endeavors.

Ultimately, I lived. 35 was one of the hardest years of my life, but it was also the best. Grateful to be human. I don't know what 36 will hold, but I will keep growing. Living the best ways that I can.

#35 #36 #livingwell
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