When I opened the trunk today to organize the contents of my life in a Chevy Aveo, I saw a perfect vision of paradox. The items in my vehicle were selected carefully and with great consideration; having no known place to live when they were packed I chose the things I knew I’d use, the things that would make me feel the most comfortable anywhere I ended up, and the tools/gear I’d need to do what makes me me. Continue reading Kate Spade and Pure Grit
January 2013. Just passing through….I really miss those Dickies. I wore them everywhere, even though they were too big. You’ll probably see em in at least 50% of my adventure pictures…they came from a clothing swap in Eugene…one day I’ll find a replacement!
Had to share this one because I’m going to be in Malibu a week from today! Stoked!
Over the weekend I got this really deep feeling of accomplishment while looking at some old photos. Not like I’d achieved a huge goal or finally made a million bucks as an herbalist…it was a feeling in my soul, of my soul being fulfilled and alive and on the right course. Continue reading Proof of a Life Well Lived
I first heard this song a few days ago, and it just reminded me of myself. Actually it’s hard to explain. I feel like this is a song that someone would sing to me. One someone in particular, but probably a few people in varying familial/platonic/romantic relationships with me scattered all over…the world.
Thank you to my evergreens, those of you who sing it to me, for understanding that though I may wander back to you, I’m not likely to stick around long…
Oakland, California, March 12 2015
Music – Ganesha Mantra (He’s the Hindu god who removes obstacles – much needed now)
Ever since I landed in California a week ago, I have constantly had to be on the rebound from one giant obstacle or another. I kinda feel like one of the Mario brothers in one of those castles – in a full sprint and feeling awesome about tackling whatever is coming and then SLAM! A giant wall of stone falls from out of nowhere and blocks my passage with the full intent to smash me to bits. Luckily I haven’t been smushed, and the stone slabs are more like hard rubber. Hard enough leave me jarringly disoriented but rubbery enough to bounce me back and force me to keep going (when in reality I sometimes I just want to be ‘Game Over’). Continue reading Anxious in Oakland…Jack London Square
Yesterday I got to go to Roanoke, VA for work. I love that town. Really and truly love it. I think the people there are the nicest people in Virginia! It’s about 3 hours from Richmond, situated very close to the Appalachian trail, and as I drove the freeways to get there it was quite a nostalgic trip seeing signs for the trail towns I stopped in. Glasgow, Troutville, Daleville…I let my mind go back to those places and the very specific memories I have of each one. Scotto’s Pizza in Glasgow, taking a shower at the fire station in Troutville, buying new insoles and getting free coffee in Daleville. Just thinking about those days I can smell the smells, see the faces, retrace my steps. What an incredible journey I had. What an incredibly lucky human I am to have had that journey. I don’t know if I will ever be able to fully express the gratitude I have to everyone and everything that made it possible for me. Continue reading Working Adventures
Bolt Bus 2 Eugene:Music: Beirut
I wonder how many travelers get asked, “What are you running away from?” Whether in jest or posed in sincerity, it seems like a lot of people who ask this question think if a person is having adventures they must also have storage units full of skeletons and overdue payments in some far away town, or arrest warrants in several states, or scary demons deep inside, all chasing the weary wandering avoidant hobo over the world in search of a good hideout! Continue reading What are You Running Away From?
Oblique Coffee House SE Portland, Oreogn: Music – Lana del Ray
I want to write about how cool of a time I’m having in PDX since arriving yesterday afternoon, but I know I ‘need’ to write about some things more personally urgent (but may not want on the blog). For example, I need to really hash out what I believe in. I need to practice getting a little deeper in my writing, perhaps so that I might be more articulate in spoken word/conversations with others about the status of the world and what we can do to change things. I’ll do that writing separately though and then evaluate it’s relevance to RoamandWrite. Because it’s coming up as I roam, it’s appropriate, however sometimes we just need to write for ourselves. I feel like I’m ready to level up in my written presentation. My writer identity is ready to come forth, to break through the surface and superficial and keep my thoughts penetrating. I tend to stop when I hit a block. Continue reading Portland
Sitting on my pack duffel at a greyhound stop, next destination: Portland, Oregon. The past week has gone by so quickly, I’m so exhausted and have had a thousand emotional surges, peaks and valleys. Fear, excitement, anticipation, bliss, and so on as a new little one has come into my life and my friend has become a mother. I’ve joined a community that, even though I’ll never live in close physical proximity to, will be part of me for the rest of my life. I discovered a new town, connected with new people, reconnected with others, eaten veggies picked the same day, slept in a yurt and in an old house with an invisibility spell on it, I ate Tres Leches cake on Dia de los Muertos , Continue reading The Dalles, Oregon – 201 Federal Way
At this moment one of my closest friends is between rushes (contractions) during the laboring for her first child. I’m taking this few minutes to write while the midwives set up, just because I have to get out some of the enormity of emotion we are all experiencing. She is a beautiful mama and has taken on some ancient, feminine, divine energy (force) as she works through this. Something else has come into the yurt, something I can’t explain but can feel, almost touch; it’s telling her how to handle everything. I’m in awe, I’m honored, I feel helpless, but glory in it all. I would not be anywhere else than right here with her. What a thing to witness and be part of less than a week after finishing the trail… Continue reading In the Birth Yurt – Ponderosa, Washington