many moons

since I last posted, and what of it?

Reading over my words here, I wonder at how far I've come.

I have my home on wheels, my nesting place, my anchor. I am making plans for the coming year, travel art and craft. Plans for mexico and black rock city and new corners of this big beautiful planet.

(Life expands forth)

And India? Can I be moving farther and closer at the same time?

This is the circular nature of things.

What a TRIP

xo

Classic

I started smoking cigarettes a little bit when I was in India, mostly just as a social thing and for the novelty of an easy buzz. For once I wanted to join in the process, the sharing, the scrounging, the excuse for a breather. Plus, cigarettes are cheap and sexy. I decided to see what it was all about.

And then I came to Nepal where I began eyeing the death sticks from afar, waffling on if I should get a pack, guilt tripping myself into abstaining. Well I finally bought some and smoked two. The first one gave me a buzz and the second one made me downright queasy, dizzy and sick as a dog. And now I can't even look at the damn pack. Go figure. 

xo

Gosh

But this Rajasthan bit is hard. I hate the way we are traveling, I hate being stuck in a tourist track, I hate how much we are paying and I am so very thankful for this experience, the people I have met and all the gorgeous sights I have seen in the past week.

Every day we have spent traveling hours by car, stopping at cheesy overpriced tourist restaurants, forts and temples. The surly norwegian quizzes the driver on how much things cost, what grows where and how long is the drive in his sing song accent. We arrive to a town just as the sun is setting and leave first thing in the morning. I have been carving out space for myself when I can, declining tours and touristy bullshit in the hopes of letting the magic in.

It's funny though, even the magic is not what I imagined. 

xo

hmm...

I have to give myself some credit for breaking old patterns. Isn't that what growth is all about? 

Also, I like to think that since the solstice I have felt a flood of rawness, a glittery edge and unexpected flow. xo

this time

Is special, according to some. We are approaching the winter solstice, which can be seen as the beginning of a new year. A Mayan cycle is ending, and from what I have heard; this is a time for letting things go and manifesting future glory! Combined with the consumer Christmas season, what a powerful paradox, right? Everywhere that I look are messages telling me to change this and buy that. 

What I want most of all to leave behind is this urge to consume. From what I put in my body to what I put on my bank card, I have a sneaky feeling that most of it is a big fat waste. What wolf am I feeding anyways?

I would like to create, and make do. I would like for the output to equal the input. That is all, please. :)

xo

weirdly

Getting a big fat rejection actually feels kinda good, in a sharpish pin prick kind way. Why? Because with each no I receive, I am that much closer to another YES. 

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming.....

xo

typical cosmic giggle

Looking for a classic "cult" point and shoot last week, I compiled a master wish list, perused every thrift shop I encountered, only to come home and find not one, but TWO in my dads own closet. I am absolutely swimming in cameras. xo

a lesson

I shelled some peas while everyone else went to a rad party. Then things took an unexpectedly whimsical turn. xo

focusing on

The Peripheral. xo

source?

I am beginning to notice a the following pattern; about once a year around springtime, I injure myself doing something totally mundane and ordinary. Examples? Holding a baby. A relaxed day hike. And most recently? SLEEPING. On what was supposed to be a ski and yoga filled visit to Bend, I awoke one morning with a badly swollen wrist and no good reason. Four days later and I am still popping Advil like candy, indulging in self-pity and wondering, what is the deal? WHAT DOES IT MEAN? And when will it get better? I can't even clip my fingernails without crying. Sheesh. 

Also, for the past 3 nights I have dreamed about cats, specifically sick cats who need my help. Too many sick kitties and I can't help them all. 

Meow.

xo

take the invisible door

(if you can find it!)

depravity

never sounded so sweet. xo

what is next?

I wonder. Trying to keep my schedule devoid of plans is trying me these days. I didn't realize how tightly I cling to future ventures. So where does that leave me? With what is NOW!! xo

my film

survived the airport scanners, BIG SIGH (relief). This glorious tree lives just outside the house of the mom of a friend of Scott. She gave me an owl feather and a hug when we stopped in one time. 

I am busy busy preparing for the next chapter, which will include wild driftwood beaches, a island sheep farm and retreat. xo

A misconception?

I am on a quest for perfect things. I have this idea that if I choose wisely, I can whittle my possessions down down down, and be ready for anything, anywhere. I want a coat that will keep me warm and translate from the city to the outdoors, from dreary seattle to bright and dusty burning man. A pair of pants that will never stretch and fit without public adjustments. Bright notes for joy and earth tones for camouflage. Winter to summer dresses and magic potions in tiny bottles with many uses (I want to be effortlessly luminous!) and just the right tools for making fire and food, decisions and defense, and art and craft. Ideally it would all fit in my car, if not on my back.  


Yes, this is totally possible.

xo

ps. I can cross off spoon and cup from the list.

pps. What I want even more than things? It's space.

home

Long rainy driving days with turkey breaks and I'm back in Oregon. I'm kind of in love with slow dampening of the pacific northwest. There's something sustaining about the dark wet winters where I can snuggle away deep with my thoughts and wants until sunlight breaks through. I think I depend on these periods of hibernation for synthesis and cohesion within. I'm happy to see the yin winter approach, and autumn is my champion of change.

Also, I am SO glad to be back in the land of well-crafted espresso drinks. I ordered a tea though.

xo

some more thoughts on stillness and support

Yesterday I rushed sweaty faced and anxious to morning meditation. I made it with a few minutes to spare, and ended up staying for the lecture after the intro (about continuity of practice). The speaker reminded us how important it is to sit with others for support. So often I give myself a hard time for not having the willpower to practice on my own, be it yoga, meditation or other daily disciplines. For weeks after the vipassana retreat I felt Goenka's disapproving finger wagging in my face, "you MUST practice a minimum of TWO HOURS a day or you will be in DEEP SUFFERING..." My daily 15 minutes were swallowed by guilt and a sense of failure (I'm so dumb for being so hard on myself). The most surprising part of that retreat? It was the lovingkindness meditation we did on the last day. This was supposed to be a soothing balm for all those hours of austere vipassana. Compassion? I've got this in the bag.... or so I thought. What welled up instead was a seething hatred for our teacher Goenka. A hatred for his preachy manner, his jowley face and the way he said "luuurve" like a seedy Barry Manilow. Roiling hatred for his strict demands, transparent Buddhist propaganda and most of all? For being right. Whew! I am searching for a gentler way. xo

a big fear

and secret wish:

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Play the game called "Tell me the story of your scars." It's best to do it with a skilled empath who is curious about your fate's riddles and skilled at helping you find redemption in your wounds. 

"How did you get that blotch on your knee?" he or she might begin. The questions and answers continue until you unveil the history of your hurts, both physical and psychic. Treat yourself to this game soon. 




(from my free will horoscope this week)

day 1 (again)

Sluggish, itchy and foggy, I'm restarting the candida un-diet. I don't like word "diet" because, a) it implies that weight loss is the goal and, b) it suggests that it will end. The real goal is to eat sustainably, right? I am so incredibly bored of wrestling with sugar cravings and feeling conflicted about social situations and travel. I'm bored of this pattern of ups and downs. How is it that once I begin to feel better, I throw it all away for a passing sensation? BORING!! In my perfect world we would share salad greens from one big bowl and devour mangoes with wild abandon until the juice drips down our chins. And there would be slow lorises, red pandas and double rainbows for eternity. Yeah. xo

bermuda triangle continued

This video, this man, his mom, outpourings, exploration, truths, ironies, and purest expression have been instrumental in the past week. WHOA. xo