Hinterland: An Epilogue

Hinterland: An Epilogue

It has taken me thousands of words and an entire month to figure out what to say about Hinterland coming to an end. By the way, Hinterland is coming to an end. This is a thing you wouldn’t be aware of because I stopped writing here. More on that later.

Here is the moral of the story: I wanted Hinterland to be something it wasn’t. I wanted it to be the new life of spring or the pure joy of summer or the abundance of fall. I did not want it to be winter.

Hinterland was the truest form of winter.

You know what happens in winter? Everything slows down. It’s too cold and too dark to keep the pace of regular life, so you settle in and hibernate for a few months. Life is quiet.

You know what else happens? Things die. Plants die, flowers die, our ability to wear (and fit into) clothes that are not made out of fleece or spandex dies. There is a natural transition from life to death for things that are no longer in season.

But then, in the midst of all this cold and dark and death, there is beauty so breathtaking it hardly seems real. There are tree limbs covered in blankets of fresh snow, icicles glistening in the sun, mugs of hot coffee and tea that produce their own tiny clouds of steam.

This was the reality of Hinterland. It was a season of grieving the natural end of a few of my favorite hopes and dreams for life. Like a true winter morning, I felt very quiet, which is a big part of the reason I stopped writing here. I needed some space to process internally, to slowly unravel the knots I’d worked myself into.

But what is magical about winter was also magical about Hinterland. Somewhere, too deep to be seen or even known, something new is growing. It just needs time.

There are new things taking root for me, nameless things I can’t quite articulate yet. But one has poked up through the dirt. It’s a new internet home called Running the Slant, inspired by some of the subtle truths I’ve been sorting through lately.

I realized that I put a lot of pressure on myself to live in the best possible way all the time. See: Party Like A Puritan. And living like that—trying to save the world by dissecting every factor of my existence and breaking it down to its most honorable form—is exhausting. And it made me go crazy. See: That One Time I Became C-3P0.

So I’m trying a new route for everyday life, one that embraces noble efforts and also Netflix. It’s a little bit straightforward and a little bit cutting off to run at an angle. It’s a slant route, a football metaphor as a new route for everyday life.

I will primarily be writing there, not here, and I would love for you to be there, too. Check out the website first because I think you might love it as much as I do. And then, if you want, you can use this form to sign up to receive new posts and occasional updates.

I love you guys. I really do. Thanks for being here and keeping me company through a long winter.

Here’s to a new season :)

3 thoughts on “Hinterland: An Epilogue”

  • “Like a true winter morning, I felt very quiet, which is a big part of the reason I stopped writing here.” That sounds like an eloquent excuse. Just calling that out because… well, that’s what I do. Also, I use ellipses wrong, but no one ever calls me out on that. Maybe that means I’m actually right.

    I’m looking forward to the next chapter and applaud the return of football jargon.

    • I wouldn’t have it any other way :) In fact, I hereby appoint you to be a caller-outer in my life forever.

      And you’re right—making an excuse is probably the unmentioned small part of that reason. I felt like I didn’t have anything to say out loud to the world that lives on the internet, so I didn’t. I’m not convinced that something good wouldn’t have come out of it if I had made myself sit down and write… but I’m also not convinced that something good would have come out of it. (Improper ellipses use? Also yes, probably.)

      At any rate, I’m glad you’ll be around for the next chapter and join you in enjoying the nod to football once again. Thanks, Ben :)

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.