I WANT TO BE A COWGIRL AND OTHER THOUGHTS FROM MONTANA.

Yup. I want to get up in the morning, pull on my jeans and my boots and hat. I want to jump on my horse and ride for hours on my ranch stopping and taking note when a fence needs repair. At night, I’ll sip tea by a big fire and dream of doing it all over again in the morning.

 It’s hard to explain the vast beauty that is Montana. I almost didn’t go. Caught a little lung infection thing that knocked me back a bit, but last Friday I made my mind up to just go. I packed some random stuff and set out for adventure.

 I met my new Project M friends at the Bozeman Airport. Project M is my friend John’s work to help creative people do something meaningful and legendary in a short two-week timeframe. It’s a time of learning and listening and new experiences and sharing with complete strangers and interesting experts who all want the same thing; to do work that matters. This is my second time as a Project M mentor. I’m excited to be a part of this moving forward.

We went to Yellowstone and saw Big Bison. Lots of them. We were warned about Grizzly Bears and carried bear spray everywhere, but never saw one. Montana is full of locals who wave on the road. Honking is not a thing in Montana. And everyone names their ranch cool things like CB Ranch and Long Horn Ranch and Black Cattle Ranch.

Naming the land is so romantic to me.

 But the vastness was emotional, at least for me. Todd Wilkinson spoke with us one day and he said “It’s the void that we are drawn to. The blank open spaces.” And that void is what got my emotions spinning wildly. One moment I was in complete awe and the next holding back tears.  I felt strong and brave and little and insignificant all at the same time.

 I felt so much.

 We sat around the fire pit one night and did this exercise called “spill your guts”. Everyone had to stand up and tell why they were there in an interesting and creative way.

 There are so many beautiful people on this planet. It’s easy to focus on the things we don’t like about humans and the damage we’re doing to our earth. But I have this belief that all people are good. Inside all of us is a greatness that is screaming to be set free. I saw that greatness in these people that night spilling our guts around the campfire. I saw kindness and compassion and pain and unbridled, courageous desire. You can get really close to people if you create the right atmosphere.

I heard this set of words at some point this week:

The world needs less conflict and more intimacy.

Don’t you love that? How might we create more intimacy in our lives? How can we fill our lives up with so much intimacy that conflict doesn’t stand a chance?

 I made up my mind on this trip to go for more intimacy in my life. To find more ways to connect with others over the coming months and create a lifelong love of really listening hard and getting to know my friends and my family even more deeply. I’m going to meet all my neighbors and go hiking with strangers more often.

I’m going to build fires in my own backyard.

But I’m not going to lie. I’m absolutely exhausted. The little bug which came with a really high fever before I left and the long, but really happy and meaningful days of this last week have taken a bit of a toll on my body. I’m ready to rest. I’m giving myself permission to rest. Oh, and I twisted my ankle on a hike in Yellowstone. OUCH. That didn’t help my tiredness either. Walking on a bum leg is hard work. I wore my hiking boots with a dress and I tied a pink bandana around my twisted ankle on my way home. And I got a nose bleed in the airport, so I got blood on my dress. This handsom young man in the Denver airport tapped me on the shoulder and said, “I don’t know your story lady, but you’ve got some serious street cred.” Made me laugh really hard. Apparently boots, banadanas and blood give you street cred in Denver.

Truth told, this “gap year” as I am calling it has been a really intense year for me. I sold my company. I lost my sweet Mom. I’ve faced, like we all do I suppose, a few tough personal challenges.

I’ve also been traveling a lot lately and I remembered on this trip that I used to call my Mom and just talk with her on my long layovers. I missed her voice on this trip. When my mom died, I found this little list on a pale, yellow sheet of paper. My mom was a list maker. And on that list, she wrote down all the places she had been. The list was short and random. Los Angeles, Dallas, Germany… About nine places in total. She understood that travel was important. Even though her list was short. it mattered dearly to her.

I get that. I do.

 So, I’ll sign off by saying. If you get a chance to go to Montana, take it. So you can put it on your list.

 And if you’re reading this and want some company for dinner or a long walk or just a “spill your guts” conversation if you’re feeling lonesome in an airport. I am here. I’m here. Let’s do that.

It would mean a lot to me.

 OX, Robbin

P.S. And in case you're interested... you can find me thinking outloud at robbinphillips.com