Night-hiking again this New Year's Eve, well sort of. A truly drag ass morning and a wee bit of a back hike and again a beautiful trail side sunset in view of three mountain ranges. We are in full meltdown mode on two of four fronts, but the amount of work to be done I'm finding thrilling, and super engaging for once. That may be the large amount of chocolate I just consumed however, or the fact that I'm warm and dry in my sleeping bag in my shelter while dinner prep happens down below and around me. I am a bit high off an afternoon of good conversations and a lot of good feedback from the girls in the last few days. They keep commenting on how much the appreciate my honesty and disclosure, how it makes me easier to relate to. Though that boundary is still a pretty huge challenge for me, hearing that is a huge victory. I've known all along that my experiences and my story will make me a much stronger guide in this role, and its nice to see the very beginning seeds int hat garden start to bud.
If I could, I would tell these girls that I've been there, and it passes. I would tell them that I've drank too much, did drugs for the wrong reasons, slept with guys to try to satisfy a need I didn't understand. I would tell them I've been depressed, anxious, suicidal, codependent, hopeless. I would tell them about the number of times I've lost and found myself, and the number of times I've found myself at the very bottom of the well. I would tell them about waking up with the wrong people, and then the right people. I would tell them that we are all so much greater than the things that happen to us. That we are all such thorough works in progress--there will be good days and there will be a plethora of bad. That there are days that threaten to strangle you, but every morning can be a new start if you allow it and are open to it. I would tell them to stay away from the quick fixes and miracle treatments--life and recovery are battles at times. I would tell them that some days you are here and some days you are not and the key is to love yourself without judgement and never fear the work that lies ahead.
The truth is I would tell myself all such things...
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Prospective Retrospective Perspective
I am growing to appreciate some these bitterly cold nights where my feet freeze and fire just wont come. I am attempting to write from my shelter in my sleeping bag still, while the coyotes sing in the dawn, and the sky grows slowly rosy. Nights such as these test my stamina and test my faith and conviction that the world keeps turning and the light will come again.
I sort of can't believe it's almost New Years again. I spent the holiday this time last year in Columbia ignoring my thesis, getting ready for that ridiculous train trip, and sitting at home alone while even my folks went out and partied. January brought that epic cross country adventure, marked by endless text message conversations through the empty middle west, singing, and my face plastered to the windows for a one and only glimpse of the Rockies. February I have little to no recollection of. I remember a bitter cold snap, hiding out in the cemetary above campus in the frigid sunshine, just for a clear and unobstructed view of mountains. In February I ignored the Portland rains and began to walk all the way down Terwilliger to catch the Barbur busses. In February Shawn and me went out briefly, and LBD and I made winter and the city ours. March I only think of school and more school. March and my thesis excited me. Shoot, in March my other classes excited me. In March I read my environmental justice books for fun. April I think about spring break and crunch time. April was my first huge thesis deadline. I started applying for work in April, started getting the wrong offers in April. In April we adventured to the coast for that one tumultous afternoon. April was cold and wet. And then May was such a hellraiser, I sort of can't believe I survived her. May was deadlines and arrivals and departures and the very lasts of so many things. May I graduated from college, finished my thesis and was very well recieved, packed up my appartment, left Portland twice, and survived my family. In May I refused to say goodbye. In May the adventuring began for real. I spent May in four timezones.
June was when I realized that Birch Trail was going to be way different the second time around. June we crashed and burned in the Boundary Waters the first trip out, and I got my first taste of the wrong side of Gabe Chernov. July I continued to continue screw up in their eyes, back to the Boundary Waters with Lisa, get blown nearly to smithereens (or Canada) on Lake 3, and continue to sneak out and run away to Ashland and the lakeshore for some quiet time. August I left Wisconsin angry and sad, and quite conflicted that it was possibly for the last time. In August I landed at home for good for the first time in awhile. August also brought that epic Texas roadtrip with Kathy and those damn cats, and the day to day absurdities of temping in office buildings. In August I bought my first car, and freaked out to Ellen about moving west almost daily. I sat through September and waited impatiently. September was more departing and arriving and epic drives. I remember September with an altitude headache, for coming to Open Sky, and for being homeless for awhile. September also brought the mindfuck that was training, and the very beginning of the long slow realization that this is my work and that in a lot of respects I am living the life I imagined for myself. October terrified and frusterated me, full of budgets and logistics and all-too-adult requisites for my likings. October was sunrise from a couch in Emily's living room, while the steam train railed off the canyon walls and eating leftover P-food for lack of a better option. October was more homelessness, and learning to trust that thee universe provides for me as it should. October also was my monumentally frusterating first shift in Cleo, impotent and that breakthrough second shift around election day and halloween where things finally started making a little sense. I remember November for the tremendous let down and monumental self-growth that happened over those three weeks of not working. November was all about synchronicity and those secret unexpectedly spiritual moments that sneak up when you're not looking and suprise you with openness and profound knowledge and strength. December started out silently screaming with both the awesomeness and frustration fo that first double shift over Thanksgiving. I will remember this December however, not for some work milestone. I'll look back and know that this month was one of the very few in my adult (?) life where I truely set down my anxieties for a moment, went with the flow, and lead from my heart. More importantly, I went where my heart took me and was open to the experience.
I don't believe in New Year's resolutions really. I think its dangerous to compartmentalize growth and change and commitment like that. 2009 just seems a bit unprecedented to me, 2008 was the most distant landmark on my map for so long that this crossing over is like sailing off the edge of the Earth. For 2009 I want to see a continued deepening of relationships in all directions. I've started recently a lot of work on family ties, big, scary, lifechanging work that I'd like to see come to fruition. Whether or not Jack is the guy for this moment, I'd like to see that part of myself come out more often, and unabashedly so. I'd like to do some serious body and energy work to look at the block in the channels between my head and heart, though I know it can't and wont happen overnight. I'd like to be financially stable to put some money away, start paying off my mother, and be able to see a shrink and do some accupuncture at least once a month. I'd like to find some additional social outlets, have a good time on my off-shifts, and still not come to work so exhausted. I want to explore the southwest, and learn more about what is to be my adopted homeland. I want to visit Portland at least once. I want to read more books and watch more movies and hear more lectures and truely push myself and engage myself intellectually. Intellect is so much bigger than school and academia. I want to be less afraid in 2009. I want to know that I appreciate and value everything that I've been given, and that I grab the moments that speak to me.
I sort of can't believe it's almost New Years again. I spent the holiday this time last year in Columbia ignoring my thesis, getting ready for that ridiculous train trip, and sitting at home alone while even my folks went out and partied. January brought that epic cross country adventure, marked by endless text message conversations through the empty middle west, singing, and my face plastered to the windows for a one and only glimpse of the Rockies. February I have little to no recollection of. I remember a bitter cold snap, hiding out in the cemetary above campus in the frigid sunshine, just for a clear and unobstructed view of mountains. In February I ignored the Portland rains and began to walk all the way down Terwilliger to catch the Barbur busses. In February Shawn and me went out briefly, and LBD and I made winter and the city ours. March I only think of school and more school. March and my thesis excited me. Shoot, in March my other classes excited me. In March I read my environmental justice books for fun. April I think about spring break and crunch time. April was my first huge thesis deadline. I started applying for work in April, started getting the wrong offers in April. In April we adventured to the coast for that one tumultous afternoon. April was cold and wet. And then May was such a hellraiser, I sort of can't believe I survived her. May was deadlines and arrivals and departures and the very lasts of so many things. May I graduated from college, finished my thesis and was very well recieved, packed up my appartment, left Portland twice, and survived my family. In May I refused to say goodbye. In May the adventuring began for real. I spent May in four timezones.
June was when I realized that Birch Trail was going to be way different the second time around. June we crashed and burned in the Boundary Waters the first trip out, and I got my first taste of the wrong side of Gabe Chernov. July I continued to continue screw up in their eyes, back to the Boundary Waters with Lisa, get blown nearly to smithereens (or Canada) on Lake 3, and continue to sneak out and run away to Ashland and the lakeshore for some quiet time. August I left Wisconsin angry and sad, and quite conflicted that it was possibly for the last time. In August I landed at home for good for the first time in awhile. August also brought that epic Texas roadtrip with Kathy and those damn cats, and the day to day absurdities of temping in office buildings. In August I bought my first car, and freaked out to Ellen about moving west almost daily. I sat through September and waited impatiently. September was more departing and arriving and epic drives. I remember September with an altitude headache, for coming to Open Sky, and for being homeless for awhile. September also brought the mindfuck that was training, and the very beginning of the long slow realization that this is my work and that in a lot of respects I am living the life I imagined for myself. October terrified and frusterated me, full of budgets and logistics and all-too-adult requisites for my likings. October was sunrise from a couch in Emily's living room, while the steam train railed off the canyon walls and eating leftover P-food for lack of a better option. October was more homelessness, and learning to trust that thee universe provides for me as it should. October also was my monumentally frusterating first shift in Cleo, impotent and that breakthrough second shift around election day and halloween where things finally started making a little sense. I remember November for the tremendous let down and monumental self-growth that happened over those three weeks of not working. November was all about synchronicity and those secret unexpectedly spiritual moments that sneak up when you're not looking and suprise you with openness and profound knowledge and strength. December started out silently screaming with both the awesomeness and frustration fo that first double shift over Thanksgiving. I will remember this December however, not for some work milestone. I'll look back and know that this month was one of the very few in my adult (?) life where I truely set down my anxieties for a moment, went with the flow, and lead from my heart. More importantly, I went where my heart took me and was open to the experience.
I don't believe in New Year's resolutions really. I think its dangerous to compartmentalize growth and change and commitment like that. 2009 just seems a bit unprecedented to me, 2008 was the most distant landmark on my map for so long that this crossing over is like sailing off the edge of the Earth. For 2009 I want to see a continued deepening of relationships in all directions. I've started recently a lot of work on family ties, big, scary, lifechanging work that I'd like to see come to fruition. Whether or not Jack is the guy for this moment, I'd like to see that part of myself come out more often, and unabashedly so. I'd like to do some serious body and energy work to look at the block in the channels between my head and heart, though I know it can't and wont happen overnight. I'd like to be financially stable to put some money away, start paying off my mother, and be able to see a shrink and do some accupuncture at least once a month. I'd like to find some additional social outlets, have a good time on my off-shifts, and still not come to work so exhausted. I want to explore the southwest, and learn more about what is to be my adopted homeland. I want to visit Portland at least once. I want to read more books and watch more movies and hear more lectures and truely push myself and engage myself intellectually. Intellect is so much bigger than school and academia. I want to be less afraid in 2009. I want to know that I appreciate and value everything that I've been given, and that I grab the moments that speak to me.
Monday, December 29, 2008
And
Please bring strange things.
Please come bringing new things. Let very old things come into your hands.
Let what you do know come into your eyes.
Let desert sand harden your feet.
Let the arch of your feet be the mountains.
Let the path of your fingertips be your maps and the ways you go be the lines on your palms.
Let there be deep snow in your inbreathing, and your outbreath be the shining of ice.
May your mouth contain the shapes of strange words.
May you smell food cooking you have not eaten.
May the spring of a foreign river be your navel.
May your soul be at home where there are no houses.
Walk carefully, well-loved one.
Walk mindfully, well-loved one.
Walk fearlessly, well-loved one.
Return with us, return to us,
be always coming home.
~Ursula Le Guin
Day seven and I maybe perhaps dont feel foggy today. I think getting riled up about how to treat how to treat Amy's feet and manipulations finally knocked me a bit more to my senses. I feel way more like myself today, still a bit doe-eyed nostalgic girl for my likings, and already missing and worrying about my next off-shift. But a bit more grounded in my body than I've felt all week.
It's warmer today, and the sun is blessedly still out. We are pulling the girls off solos as we speak, and will fill the rest of the day with ceremony and debriefs and check-ins and all the ordinary logistical nightmare that the week's end brings with it. Martha will leave tommorow, and Dustin will shift over someitme thereafter, and I have the chance to make this a new week if I wanted to. To stop dragging my feet and counting the hours and do some real and solid and good work.
I have some serious processing ahead of me with Amy in the near future, the likes of which I'm not sure I know how I feel about. I've known she is a wicked good mimic, and quite perceptive to other peoples' smallest mannerisms and gestures. I also know how attached she get to Chris on our Thanksgiving double and how jelous she got about all the special treatment he was giving to Sara for her cold feet and "poor circulation". And now suddenly Amy is dying of the same affliction. Not that I don't buy that her feet are uncomfortable, but to me it seems like a pretty clear grab for attention, using methods she saw work on us before. My challenge before I start to process with her is to figure out in my head how much is legitamately a concern as far as her actions go, and how much is my lingering anger and resentment over getting ignored and not believed by staff last shift over the same issue. That was really my only mission though I don't think I voiced it at all, was to speak the truth of my experience as I see it, and not worry so much about the consequences of what people think or who I am calling out. I can be so much of a better and more effective mirror than I have been lately. I would reflect to Amy I think how indirect she communicates, and how frusterating the mixed messages she sends to us are. I would try to shower her how shes been acting compared to how Sara was that first week, and also remind her how much Sara's whining and special treatment frusterated her in that moment. I think I would also maybe see if pushing the whole mind-body connection might get anywhere, though I kind of doubt it would....but see if she can track on how she is feeling emotionally whenever she is complaining of feeling sick or hurt.
I'm sort of feeling the West today. I identify that as the yearning for the North but not quite having the resources or the energy to quite access that place. I want to go there and do that work, but feel like lethargy is keeping me rooted, staring at the sunset on the western horizon. I sort of feel like I have so much going on in my head that I should be able to work and move things and discover. Thats sort of exactly the problem though, I am fully stuck in my head. All the thoughts and feelings which I'm sitting with are totally and completely coming from my head. I think my North work at least for the next good long time will be learning to come from my heart more than my head, and distinguish the two. Most of my turmoil and haze this week has definitly been head oriented and head bound.
My heart? In my heart I feel excited. I feel tremendously lucky and sort of incredulous that any of this is even happening to me. I feel scared and anxious when I think about what has happened and the possibility of what is to come. I feel that in the small of my back, between my shoulder blades, and just below my xyphoid process. It feels tense and squeezing, and sort of rumbly. My heart sort of bounces between blissful exhiliration and close to terror. Though on second look thats not that far from normal...
Please come bringing new things. Let very old things come into your hands.
Let what you do know come into your eyes.
Let desert sand harden your feet.
Let the arch of your feet be the mountains.
Let the path of your fingertips be your maps and the ways you go be the lines on your palms.
Let there be deep snow in your inbreathing, and your outbreath be the shining of ice.
May your mouth contain the shapes of strange words.
May you smell food cooking you have not eaten.
May the spring of a foreign river be your navel.
May your soul be at home where there are no houses.
Walk carefully, well-loved one.
Walk mindfully, well-loved one.
Walk fearlessly, well-loved one.
Return with us, return to us,
be always coming home.
~Ursula Le Guin
Day seven and I maybe perhaps dont feel foggy today. I think getting riled up about how to treat how to treat Amy's feet and manipulations finally knocked me a bit more to my senses. I feel way more like myself today, still a bit doe-eyed nostalgic girl for my likings, and already missing and worrying about my next off-shift. But a bit more grounded in my body than I've felt all week.
It's warmer today, and the sun is blessedly still out. We are pulling the girls off solos as we speak, and will fill the rest of the day with ceremony and debriefs and check-ins and all the ordinary logistical nightmare that the week's end brings with it. Martha will leave tommorow, and Dustin will shift over someitme thereafter, and I have the chance to make this a new week if I wanted to. To stop dragging my feet and counting the hours and do some real and solid and good work.
I have some serious processing ahead of me with Amy in the near future, the likes of which I'm not sure I know how I feel about. I've known she is a wicked good mimic, and quite perceptive to other peoples' smallest mannerisms and gestures. I also know how attached she get to Chris on our Thanksgiving double and how jelous she got about all the special treatment he was giving to Sara for her cold feet and "poor circulation". And now suddenly Amy is dying of the same affliction. Not that I don't buy that her feet are uncomfortable, but to me it seems like a pretty clear grab for attention, using methods she saw work on us before. My challenge before I start to process with her is to figure out in my head how much is legitamately a concern as far as her actions go, and how much is my lingering anger and resentment over getting ignored and not believed by staff last shift over the same issue. That was really my only mission though I don't think I voiced it at all, was to speak the truth of my experience as I see it, and not worry so much about the consequences of what people think or who I am calling out. I can be so much of a better and more effective mirror than I have been lately. I would reflect to Amy I think how indirect she communicates, and how frusterating the mixed messages she sends to us are. I would try to shower her how shes been acting compared to how Sara was that first week, and also remind her how much Sara's whining and special treatment frusterated her in that moment. I think I would also maybe see if pushing the whole mind-body connection might get anywhere, though I kind of doubt it would....but see if she can track on how she is feeling emotionally whenever she is complaining of feeling sick or hurt.
I'm sort of feeling the West today. I identify that as the yearning for the North but not quite having the resources or the energy to quite access that place. I want to go there and do that work, but feel like lethargy is keeping me rooted, staring at the sunset on the western horizon. I sort of feel like I have so much going on in my head that I should be able to work and move things and discover. Thats sort of exactly the problem though, I am fully stuck in my head. All the thoughts and feelings which I'm sitting with are totally and completely coming from my head. I think my North work at least for the next good long time will be learning to come from my heart more than my head, and distinguish the two. Most of my turmoil and haze this week has definitly been head oriented and head bound.
My heart? In my heart I feel excited. I feel tremendously lucky and sort of incredulous that any of this is even happening to me. I feel scared and anxious when I think about what has happened and the possibility of what is to come. I feel that in the small of my back, between my shoulder blades, and just below my xyphoid process. It feels tense and squeezing, and sort of rumbly. My heart sort of bounces between blissful exhiliration and close to terror. Though on second look thats not that far from normal...
Sunday, December 28, 2008
On the Dragon Spine
I'm not sure for how well or how long this will actually work, but for lack of a better idea I'll give it a go. I'm on break tonight pre-dinner, watching the sunset over way off Monument Valley from the top of the dragon spine at Soda Springs. My handwriting is going haywire as my hands are freezing, but the light in this place and the beauty outside and within my head is too breathtaking go pass up. If we were at sea this would be the moment of the green flash. As it is, the only flashes are from the snow searing my retinas after two days without sunglasses. Atleast I finally got smart today and remembered to put sunblock on.
I wish I had words or an explanation for why this shift is going so roughly. Some of it is bouncing around from group to group and then that transport. Some of it is just being blah from the holidays. Some is I'm sure being way less gung-ho for a double after that first one. Some is coming in mentally, physically, and emotionally drained I'm sure. A lot is just feeling far away outside my body for most of the time so far, and then beating myself up over kowing that I'm pretty checked out. All this translates into me feeling pretty inept at my job. I've also been way less than adequate at the eating and drinking neccesary to be out here at this time of year, which leaves me feeling even more exhausted and physically ill. And then all the normal winter terrors leave me dragging at the very tail end of my inspiration.
I didn't sleep much last night for cold feet and truely screwed up dreams. Solos make me a little bit paranoid to begin with. I always thing I hear students calling their name to be rescued, particularly after it happened last time. They are doing well here this week, but the activity crossed with the forces that live here at this site definitly set me on edge.
I think the biggest thing that makes me antsy about the whole boy situation is how healthy it seems. I realized this after talking to Martha about it a few mornings ago. This (whatever this is) is the first time I've been with someone and not been somehow altered in the head. Usually depression, though anxiety and a whole lot of alchohol were at the forefront of all the relationships I've ever had. It's strange and more than a little bit terrifying and wonderful and intriguing not to have all those crutches to fall back on, truely uncharted territory. Maybe even moreso than the sober sex was...
I have in the back of my mind what happens when Ellen decides to keep me on this shift for good. Or when I dont get my period next week. Or when I get home in 9 more days and have no note or anything from him. Or even worse--when I do. Most nights sleeping out here I flash on that one evening together in a tent. More often than that I imagine his presence--the smell and the warmth and the mischief in his eyes. I imagine how he would be in a group, or whether he thinks of me out here, though I shut that down pretty quick. All these imaginings and secret backroom dealings really wreak havoc on my present tense. I am touchy like I haven't been in a very long time.
I hate to admit it but I am counting the days to warmth and some security and peace of mind. I am not tapping into the grace I know I have, my hood and hat pulled very literally down over my ears and eyes, blocking out both sound and the last afterglow remenants of the sunset.
Coyotes tell me it is way past time to retire...
I wish I had words or an explanation for why this shift is going so roughly. Some of it is bouncing around from group to group and then that transport. Some of it is just being blah from the holidays. Some is I'm sure being way less gung-ho for a double after that first one. Some is coming in mentally, physically, and emotionally drained I'm sure. A lot is just feeling far away outside my body for most of the time so far, and then beating myself up over kowing that I'm pretty checked out. All this translates into me feeling pretty inept at my job. I've also been way less than adequate at the eating and drinking neccesary to be out here at this time of year, which leaves me feeling even more exhausted and physically ill. And then all the normal winter terrors leave me dragging at the very tail end of my inspiration.
I didn't sleep much last night for cold feet and truely screwed up dreams. Solos make me a little bit paranoid to begin with. I always thing I hear students calling their name to be rescued, particularly after it happened last time. They are doing well here this week, but the activity crossed with the forces that live here at this site definitly set me on edge.
I think the biggest thing that makes me antsy about the whole boy situation is how healthy it seems. I realized this after talking to Martha about it a few mornings ago. This (whatever this is) is the first time I've been with someone and not been somehow altered in the head. Usually depression, though anxiety and a whole lot of alchohol were at the forefront of all the relationships I've ever had. It's strange and more than a little bit terrifying and wonderful and intriguing not to have all those crutches to fall back on, truely uncharted territory. Maybe even moreso than the sober sex was...
I have in the back of my mind what happens when Ellen decides to keep me on this shift for good. Or when I dont get my period next week. Or when I get home in 9 more days and have no note or anything from him. Or even worse--when I do. Most nights sleeping out here I flash on that one evening together in a tent. More often than that I imagine his presence--the smell and the warmth and the mischief in his eyes. I imagine how he would be in a group, or whether he thinks of me out here, though I shut that down pretty quick. All these imaginings and secret backroom dealings really wreak havoc on my present tense. I am touchy like I haven't been in a very long time.
I hate to admit it but I am counting the days to warmth and some security and peace of mind. I am not tapping into the grace I know I have, my hood and hat pulled very literally down over my ears and eyes, blocking out both sound and the last afterglow remenants of the sunset.
Coyotes tell me it is way past time to retire...
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Checkout Time
Today was hard. Christmas and all didn't really faze me very much, though I didn't entirely expect it to. My body is trying to tell me things I'm not ready to listen to, and is rebelling a bit in the meantime. I think I took that exhaustion and disembodied feeling of the past couple days and turned it into a migraine. Also the parts where I beat myself up over not feeling present I'm sure played a large part. At any rate, I basically slept through our holiday festivities for the most part. I took a long break and slept in the staff tent, and basically zoned out for the rest of the evening.
I am intrigued and curious about all the good spirits in the group right now, and whether it will hold up through expedition. We have the specter of solos and snow staring us down, not to mention another holiday.
I just cant shake the feeling that it doesn't feel like Christmas. Or New Years. Or my birthday. Or 2009 coming on, when 2008 with graduation has long been the most distant mark on my horizon. It doesn't feel like time is marching at all.
I am intrigued and curious about all the good spirits in the group right now, and whether it will hold up through expedition. We have the specter of solos and snow staring us down, not to mention another holiday.
I just cant shake the feeling that it doesn't feel like Christmas. Or New Years. Or my birthday. Or 2009 coming on, when 2008 with graduation has long been the most distant mark on my horizon. It doesn't feel like time is marching at all.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Coming At You
It's Christmas eve and I am back in Cleo after a very brief soujourn in Bohdi. I kind of feel better already--the young adults sort of stressed me out. All around I am distracted and foggy today, and I don't like it. I feel sort of disembodied right now, given everything going on drawing my attention away from right here right now.
Right here right now is chilling out in the wall tent, relatively warm and cozy for the first time in days. Right now is laughter and light while the snow continues to fall outside. Right here doesn't quite seem like a holiday yet, but is trying hard. Right now is sort of real and nostalgic and rosy red and glowing. This moment is full of recognition and cameraderie and some homecoming, even hundreds of miles away.
On the other side, my head is full of secret longings and remembrances. My head is full of February and the chance of returning home in a few weeks to a note or an email. My head is all overheard stories and recollections from other people, and a secret inner smile to myself that is apt to make me burst. This place is so fall of his presence, its both torture and kind of reassuirng in a way--he is in fact real and more than a figment of my wayward imagination.
Every now and again I just sort of shake myself out of this hazy reverie. I can't do two weeks of work in this state, I'm exhausted and we are still at base camp.
I am confused that the little window ledge breaking the flow between my heard and head is making an appearance today--maybe simply the sign of not feeling relaxed and grounded and at peace with my responsibility. This whole boy situation has thrown me further from my routine than I'd like to admit.
I'm going to stop now as heres the part wehre things get pretty circular and weird.
Right here right now is chilling out in the wall tent, relatively warm and cozy for the first time in days. Right now is laughter and light while the snow continues to fall outside. Right here doesn't quite seem like a holiday yet, but is trying hard. Right now is sort of real and nostalgic and rosy red and glowing. This moment is full of recognition and cameraderie and some homecoming, even hundreds of miles away.
On the other side, my head is full of secret longings and remembrances. My head is full of February and the chance of returning home in a few weeks to a note or an email. My head is all overheard stories and recollections from other people, and a secret inner smile to myself that is apt to make me burst. This place is so fall of his presence, its both torture and kind of reassuirng in a way--he is in fact real and more than a figment of my wayward imagination.
Every now and again I just sort of shake myself out of this hazy reverie. I can't do two weeks of work in this state, I'm exhausted and we are still at base camp.
I am confused that the little window ledge breaking the flow between my heard and head is making an appearance today--maybe simply the sign of not feeling relaxed and grounded and at peace with my responsibility. This whole boy situation has thrown me further from my routine than I'd like to admit.
I'm going to stop now as heres the part wehre things get pretty circular and weird.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Double Time Again
I can't believe tomorrow is Christmas eve. It's tuesday night of another double shift, and it's almost too cold to be writing right now. I'm hanging out in Bohdisatva actually, trying to keep an open mind about working with the young adults for a few days. So far so good, but the last like 48 hours seem such a whirlwind that I have a hard time slowing down longe nough to track on what is good or not good. Bohdi is a bit liberating, a bit scary intimidating, and really fascinating in an introspective kind of way, just trying to figure out where I fit in working amongst ostensibly peers. My biggest fear and why I fought working over here so hard is not being removed at all from the students. I use my age separation a lot to fall back on with the Cleo girls, and my fear is exposing my true scattered spastic self and not showing that I have the resources to be in authority and do my job. I sort of feel like I'm 22 and hae been where they are at in the none too distant past, what right do I have to offer any guidance? That said, I feel like I can finally envision a place and space where I can share some of my story with students here in a safe and appropriate manner. I like that feeling and I like the person who could make that happen quite a lot.
And theres the mee that feels stupid giddy after a two minute interaction with a certain boy on the outgoing shift. It seems we were meant to cross paths again regardless of whether or not I engineer it. I ended up stuck in Cortez to help with half a transport of an Avatar boy. We took long enough at the pediatrician's that the Open side was finishing up lunch when I ducked into the staff tent to grab some tampons on the way down to the sites. Just the hug and the way he looked at me were enough to make my week and prove to be super distracting. But the interaction also was enough to convince me that what happened between us was real and mutual and lingering.
Crazy intense few days and theres more to relate on another moment. I am so happy to see stars tonight for the first time in days. And for the hope to sleep warm tonight in my borrowed wiggy, even if the mercury does in fact touch down at 0 degrees F. Honestly, to sleep at all tonight would be fantastic...
And theres the mee that feels stupid giddy after a two minute interaction with a certain boy on the outgoing shift. It seems we were meant to cross paths again regardless of whether or not I engineer it. I ended up stuck in Cortez to help with half a transport of an Avatar boy. We took long enough at the pediatrician's that the Open side was finishing up lunch when I ducked into the staff tent to grab some tampons on the way down to the sites. Just the hug and the way he looked at me were enough to make my week and prove to be super distracting. But the interaction also was enough to convince me that what happened between us was real and mutual and lingering.
Crazy intense few days and theres more to relate on another moment. I am so happy to see stars tonight for the first time in days. And for the hope to sleep warm tonight in my borrowed wiggy, even if the mercury does in fact touch down at 0 degrees F. Honestly, to sleep at all tonight would be fantastic...
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Fearless
Things I am Currently Afraid of:
-winter
-next shift sleeping out at sub zero temperatures
-driving in the snow
-skipping my next period
-why my big toes are still numb after last weekend's snowshoeing adventures
-not having enough money to pay my bills
-the secret thought that the sun won't come out again for a long long time
-seeing boy on my transport in a few days
-my mind when I think about any future with him
Things I am Currently Sure of:
-my way around Durango and enjoyment of
-winter will end
-my sunlamp is god
-chocolate makes winter better
-double butter and cheese rations make life complete
-I wouldn't mind having more regular sex
-I am a great writer when I want to be
-I miss close people in my life, but am doing better and finding and making them here
-the next place I live will be closer to downtown and with some sense of community and people
-I like myself better when I write poetry
-I am not as dramatic as I imagine
Things I am Currently Working on:
-controlling my anxiety around working outdoors through the winter
-cleaning the fuck out of my room before leaving for work on Monday
-slowing down
-admitting how I feel, not how I think I should feel
-accepting the adventures that find their way to me
-balancing being real and authentic with being under control with my students
-not flipping out about spending money
-not freezing to death
-trusting that the universe makes things happen how they should
-winter
-next shift sleeping out at sub zero temperatures
-driving in the snow
-skipping my next period
-why my big toes are still numb after last weekend's snowshoeing adventures
-not having enough money to pay my bills
-the secret thought that the sun won't come out again for a long long time
-seeing boy on my transport in a few days
-my mind when I think about any future with him
Things I am Currently Sure of:
-my way around Durango and enjoyment of
-winter will end
-my sunlamp is god
-chocolate makes winter better
-double butter and cheese rations make life complete
-I wouldn't mind having more regular sex
-I am a great writer when I want to be
-I miss close people in my life, but am doing better and finding and making them here
-the next place I live will be closer to downtown and with some sense of community and people
-I like myself better when I write poetry
-I am not as dramatic as I imagine
Things I am Currently Working on:
-controlling my anxiety around working outdoors through the winter
-cleaning the fuck out of my room before leaving for work on Monday
-slowing down
-admitting how I feel, not how I think I should feel
-accepting the adventures that find their way to me
-balancing being real and authentic with being under control with my students
-not flipping out about spending money
-not freezing to death
-trusting that the universe makes things happen how they should
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Specter
It's 1:30 Am and I am bound and determined to sleep in my own bed tonight. The snow is falling softly enough outside that I can't tell whether it is itself a drowsy dream, the whole outer world muted by the storms still going on inside me this evening. I am unconsciously falling back on one of so many mantras which we feed the students--that I must feel this pain fully, breath it in and back out through me so that it becomes a part of me, that the next time I feel this I know that I can sit with it and breath with it and overcome. The specter of past lives and experience sits flat and heavy on my chest tonight, yet surprisingly none of my escapes seem to be helping and I am flattered to be left to my own emotions for this night of hazy reflection on the horizons. I love the light that brings winter storms, pink dim and somber with the hint of that burning freedom that will come with the clearing of the clouds.
So I had a fling. So much more than a fling that I can feel his presence with me, that I wake to the realization that there are months between us with the ache and trepidation of starting out on a long and wild journey to some place untouched and untraveled. My previous 6 days pale as they fade from view, yet clarity seems to be seeping in through the cracks and mortar stones the longer I sit here in this place and acknowledge what an experience this was. I sense the temptation to hide tonight behind these words, though I reach simply for the right ones to write this experience, sear it into the most top layers of my brain is I have seared it into my flesh, and begin the process of turning it round and round to see what I can learn from it.
He came unexpectedly, when I was not looking. I sensed him before I knew him, like a ghost crossing the path in front of me, raising the hair on the back of my neck. Or the warm updrafts we get even still hiking at evening in the desert, like the hot exhale of some desert creature breathing sage down my spine. He brought to me a childhood on a northwest Montana ranch, farmboy revolutionary sensibilities, and a particular enjoyment for reading poetry and western tinged prose aloud. We sat by the river long past dark and listened to the torrent as I told him of my paths and passions, and we talked of wilds, and of saving the world. He took me to bed, and to the mountains, and we laughed it seemed for 6 days straight. He told me my honesty was sexy, and pierced the space between us with those eyes and shit-eating grin. We lay and watched the light return to the day around us, and I never once stopped to wonder wherefrom this blessing, let myself greatfully adrift till this departure day.
And now the clock has since struck and turned me back to a pumpkin, who dare not tempt fate yet with boisterous dreams of another ball. I am switching shifts at work which means we will work opposite for a time. Which means I must again bolster my faith in the universe that things happen as they shall and as they must. I confide that my convictions in the world right now are as paper thin as the air outside my window. The specter of our paths crossing again makes me want to do irrational and impulsive things--to have this albeit external good return to my life I would risk more than is healthy.
I know my work for the moment is to stay in this place. To breath through it and with it and sit next to it and stroke it, though running or dulling the sharp edges seem like the best course of action. Being in a heart space for so many running days was such a relief I hope to hold on to the ghosts of this experience for a while, and to explore the dark spaces which remain to haunt me.
I will do this, I can do this. I have wanted nothing more than to be the person who can risk with out fear, and love with the wild abandon that I so crave for myself.
So I had a fling. So much more than a fling that I can feel his presence with me, that I wake to the realization that there are months between us with the ache and trepidation of starting out on a long and wild journey to some place untouched and untraveled. My previous 6 days pale as they fade from view, yet clarity seems to be seeping in through the cracks and mortar stones the longer I sit here in this place and acknowledge what an experience this was. I sense the temptation to hide tonight behind these words, though I reach simply for the right ones to write this experience, sear it into the most top layers of my brain is I have seared it into my flesh, and begin the process of turning it round and round to see what I can learn from it.
He came unexpectedly, when I was not looking. I sensed him before I knew him, like a ghost crossing the path in front of me, raising the hair on the back of my neck. Or the warm updrafts we get even still hiking at evening in the desert, like the hot exhale of some desert creature breathing sage down my spine. He brought to me a childhood on a northwest Montana ranch, farmboy revolutionary sensibilities, and a particular enjoyment for reading poetry and western tinged prose aloud. We sat by the river long past dark and listened to the torrent as I told him of my paths and passions, and we talked of wilds, and of saving the world. He took me to bed, and to the mountains, and we laughed it seemed for 6 days straight. He told me my honesty was sexy, and pierced the space between us with those eyes and shit-eating grin. We lay and watched the light return to the day around us, and I never once stopped to wonder wherefrom this blessing, let myself greatfully adrift till this departure day.
And now the clock has since struck and turned me back to a pumpkin, who dare not tempt fate yet with boisterous dreams of another ball. I am switching shifts at work which means we will work opposite for a time. Which means I must again bolster my faith in the universe that things happen as they shall and as they must. I confide that my convictions in the world right now are as paper thin as the air outside my window. The specter of our paths crossing again makes me want to do irrational and impulsive things--to have this albeit external good return to my life I would risk more than is healthy.
I know my work for the moment is to stay in this place. To breath through it and with it and sit next to it and stroke it, though running or dulling the sharp edges seem like the best course of action. Being in a heart space for so many running days was such a relief I hope to hold on to the ghosts of this experience for a while, and to explore the dark spaces which remain to haunt me.
I will do this, I can do this. I have wanted nothing more than to be the person who can risk with out fear, and love with the wild abandon that I so crave for myself.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Where I'm At: Take Two
"This is what real education is about--opening our naked, scarred, vulnerable, precious souls to each other."
~Grace Feuerverger
~Grace Feuerverger
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Where I'm At
"
| come, my love. we have mountains to climb and wilderness to wander. you have shown me a love that cannot be given or taken. let us bask in the fullness of ourselves. a simple kiss now blood and breath, both awakened. a balanced diet to sustain health and life. we will wax and wane in attention given from our father. we can trust he will return, yet, she is here. she has granted us this land to forge her cycle, and when in doubt she places the ocean in our tears. come my love, we have oceans to sail. the painted nature of this earth is water-based and will fade if not tended. let us retrace the origin of a kiss. they have ravished your heart and mind, but your breath travels freely out of your mouth and into mine. there, is the current i wish to sail. here is a love, uncharted. throw away your map and swallow this cratered pill. pull it from the sky and let it dissolve under your tongue. it is only a matter of time before we are timeless. " ~Saul Stacey Williams |
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Embody
I'm having one of those charmed life removed from reality experiences. The one where being in the middle of some luscious acid trip seems to be the most reasonable explanation. For the first time in a while I seem to be navigating by my heart more than my head and ignoring the consequences for the moment at least. I keep getting stuck in the spaces between whole thoughts, and that emptiness and vastness is sort of relieving--a well earned reprieve from the matters housed between my ears. I lick my lips and ponder whether I made the whole thing up.
I don't even think this is a conversation I'm ready to have with myself quite yet. I think I'm content to sit and drink tea and watch the snow begin to fall on Main Street, though it is much to warm this morning to even contemplate sticking. Headed out in a bit for a weekend in the woods, after which I'm hoping to return with a much clearer head and cleaner conscience. For now I am working to just sit with this chaos and clarity and all too physical manifestation.
I don't even think this is a conversation I'm ready to have with myself quite yet. I think I'm content to sit and drink tea and watch the snow begin to fall on Main Street, though it is much to warm this morning to even contemplate sticking. Headed out in a bit for a weekend in the woods, after which I'm hoping to return with a much clearer head and cleaner conscience. For now I am working to just sit with this chaos and clarity and all too physical manifestation.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Re-entry
Reentry this time around feels a lot like culture shock. That whole unexplainable ache and perpetual confusion, and the boundlessness of understanding. It is familiar in function but new in form. I am learning again how to swim in matter which I can't yet permeate. The sun is out and 45 degrees suddenly feels pretty balmy after 10 degree mornings...
Monday, December 08, 2008
Chinese Water Torture
It's finally Monday, and its raining again. I slept in the tee-pee last night with three of the girls as Callie was hardcore stomach sick all over the wall tent. Sleeping there though was like Chinese water torture--I spent a good part of the night trying to find a good way to lay between the drops. Its warmer though than it has been in a while. The scene at Cleo camp though matches the attitude and energy of the girls I'm sensing, sort of dreary and a bit abysmal. We had such a big expedition--physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually that I think its a bit of a let down for them to be back at base. Our last hike was 10 miles (not entirely inadvertently), I mean really. I struggle to do 8 with BT girls on Isle Royale, and even personally 10 miles is no stroll in the park.
The changes I've seen this shift have been pretty monumental. I know I say that often, but it seems like almost every shift out here something different and more ridiculously inconceivable happens to broaden my horizons to the true possibility of this work. Amy, herself, blew me away maybe moreso than any student I've yet worked with. I mean she went from walking out of camp, and almost being restrained and put on runwatch her first night with us to finishing her South pathway. She has developed into a strong force for good within the group. She takes leadership roles, role models positive behaviors, shares herself, and is starting to call out others on their shit. And it all sort of happened when I was looking the other way almost.
And then there was Erin, who rode this expedition it seems straight to rock bottom. I haven't yet seen the outdoors totally break a person down before her this week. The wilderness did our job so much better than we did on that regard for her. I mean--the girl pooped her pants and still wont admit it after hiking for almost 2 more days. I hope she cant get much further down than that, for her sake. But since screaming and crying and cursing her way hysterically through the last night of hiking I've seen a spark in her for the very first time since I've known her. You can see enthusiasm and excitement and even the tiniest bit of nascent positivity if you look really hard. And even a small amount of internal motivation.
I am personally excited to be back here ( I hope) next shift for the Christmas double and to see where another two weeks out here leaves these ladies. I've observed so well how long two weeks can really be.
The changes I've seen this shift have been pretty monumental. I know I say that often, but it seems like almost every shift out here something different and more ridiculously inconceivable happens to broaden my horizons to the true possibility of this work. Amy, herself, blew me away maybe moreso than any student I've yet worked with. I mean she went from walking out of camp, and almost being restrained and put on runwatch her first night with us to finishing her South pathway. She has developed into a strong force for good within the group. She takes leadership roles, role models positive behaviors, shares herself, and is starting to call out others on their shit. And it all sort of happened when I was looking the other way almost.
And then there was Erin, who rode this expedition it seems straight to rock bottom. I haven't yet seen the outdoors totally break a person down before her this week. The wilderness did our job so much better than we did on that regard for her. I mean--the girl pooped her pants and still wont admit it after hiking for almost 2 more days. I hope she cant get much further down than that, for her sake. But since screaming and crying and cursing her way hysterically through the last night of hiking I've seen a spark in her for the very first time since I've known her. You can see enthusiasm and excitement and even the tiniest bit of nascent positivity if you look really hard. And even a small amount of internal motivation.
I am personally excited to be back here ( I hope) next shift for the Christmas double and to see where another two weeks out here leaves these ladies. I've observed so well how long two weeks can really be.
Friday, December 05, 2008
Routine
I have almost just stole this morning for myself. In retrospect I kind of enjoy this wise little routine I seem to have fallen into...Wake at first light, use the bathroom after finding my way out of the sleeping bag Harry Houdini style, gather kindling, revive last nights fire, start some water for tea, and write. Somewhere in there is a pause for sunrise, and a couple to admire first light skyrocketing across the canyons. The other staff usually wake way earlier than I'd like them to, but at least I'm guaranteed some small part of the day is mine alone.
I need to be better and more compassionate today. I want like a keyword or some kind of mantra to knowck me back into my mind and kick start that empathy overdrive that I so love and loath. A safeword that reminds me of insularity and universal respect for those girls and what they are here attempting to do.
I need to be better and more compassionate today. I want like a keyword or some kind of mantra to knowck me back into my mind and kick start that empathy overdrive that I so love and loath. A safeword that reminds me of insularity and universal respect for those girls and what they are here attempting to do.
Thursday, December 04, 2008
Encroach and Approach
Winter's approach is turning into one drawn out exercise in controlling panic. Every night out here seems to be colder than the one before, and bedtime triggers a little bit of a sense of impending doom. Its definitely a good project for me in controlling my fight or flight reflex, in keeping myself in uncomfortable situations, and trusting that whatever comes up will be surmountable.
I am again realizing how crucial the alone time thing is for my sanity. Its a couple hours past sundown, and we just rolled into camp a few minutes ago. I've been daydreaming for most of the day about an extra hour of morning to enjoy, fantasizing really. I got up about 6:30, got the fire stoked, started some water for tea, and had only just sat down to write when people started waking. The combination of mourning the lost morning, not sleeping well for two nights in a row now, and being stuck in the back hiking watching a couple of students at their whiny entitled worst put me in a foul mood for most of the afternoon. I hate the feeling of being zonked, checked out mentally and emotionally. I'd be walked on pretty much auto-pilot for awhile, catch myself zoning out, and have to remind myself that hey, this is my job, and prod myself into a conversation with someone. I remember learning so well about internal self-care that first summer at Birch Trail, and wondering how I would ever make it through a whole day on trips without just exhausting myself. And we didn't have the staffing or the mechanisms to take breaks on trips. I think I need to bring more chocolate out on shift. I think I need to maybe get up even earlier to have that space before the students wake. I think I really need to get over my embarrassment over asking for breaks, like anyone is going to think worse of me for asking for the time and space that I need...
The moral of this story leaves me attempting to chill out as dinner prep happens. I climbed halfway up the mesa and am sitting behind a couple of huge boulders. We're camped close enough to the wall that voices throw really strange echoes, and the girls below sound almost crystal clearly from behind my back. Oso, Jonah's dog appeared a little while ago from behind me and all I heard was animal breathing down my neck. It's hard to stay up here when what I really want to do is doze off but its too cold to do so comfortably. It is almost too cold tonight to sit in one place for very long. So my brain says nap but my body says get moving.
I am again realizing how crucial the alone time thing is for my sanity. Its a couple hours past sundown, and we just rolled into camp a few minutes ago. I've been daydreaming for most of the day about an extra hour of morning to enjoy, fantasizing really. I got up about 6:30, got the fire stoked, started some water for tea, and had only just sat down to write when people started waking. The combination of mourning the lost morning, not sleeping well for two nights in a row now, and being stuck in the back hiking watching a couple of students at their whiny entitled worst put me in a foul mood for most of the afternoon. I hate the feeling of being zonked, checked out mentally and emotionally. I'd be walked on pretty much auto-pilot for awhile, catch myself zoning out, and have to remind myself that hey, this is my job, and prod myself into a conversation with someone. I remember learning so well about internal self-care that first summer at Birch Trail, and wondering how I would ever make it through a whole day on trips without just exhausting myself. And we didn't have the staffing or the mechanisms to take breaks on trips. I think I need to bring more chocolate out on shift. I think I need to maybe get up even earlier to have that space before the students wake. I think I really need to get over my embarrassment over asking for breaks, like anyone is going to think worse of me for asking for the time and space that I need...
The moral of this story leaves me attempting to chill out as dinner prep happens. I climbed halfway up the mesa and am sitting behind a couple of huge boulders. We're camped close enough to the wall that voices throw really strange echoes, and the girls below sound almost crystal clearly from behind my back. Oso, Jonah's dog appeared a little while ago from behind me and all I heard was animal breathing down my neck. It's hard to stay up here when what I really want to do is doze off but its too cold to do so comfortably. It is almost too cold tonight to sit in one place for very long. So my brain says nap but my body says get moving.
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
Under the Cottonwood Trees
Sitting under cottonwood trees, even in the dead of winter still puts summer smells on my mind. Last night they were saying was the coldest one yet, drooping down into the teens for my first time out here. It's cloudy, and the sun's weak effort seems like snow. I am increasingly aware that surviving winter out here will require a lot more consciousness around taking care of myself and a lot more acceptance and breath than I am used to incorporating in my working life.
Marie graduated last night. As she likes to say, she took my Open Sky virginity. She was my first good Cleo conversation, my first pathway I signed, my first 1-1 session, my first student mentor, and my first grad. She was also the last of that first core group of girls I worked with my first shift to move on. I guess I'm feeling a little attached to that, and a lot less rapport with the current crop of students. A lot of this is just time, I know, and a lot is just the strange march of hours and deeds that means we must all move forward, willing and concious or not, eventually. Marie's passage though, in a roundabout way brings me to my own journey here. Her departure makes finishing my apprenticeship seem real and closed. Marie was also the one whos eemed to stick with me, even on the off-shift, and I'm curious to see if I can control and process that adequately, now that she's gone.
This journal was meant for this time and this place---I see it so vividly now. The red one lost to Squaw was very much a South place in my experience, full of rages and passions. This one feels so much more contemplative and grounded than before, writting here feels a bit more solid and fluid than before even. I like the feel of it in my hand and the way I feel compelled to open my heart lately while writting.
Even drowsy and zoning I can still hear camp going on a good quarter mile away. Someone yelling the same things at the same people, and I kind of have to laugh. I think this week I've done a lot better at owning up to how I'm feeling, particularly regarding specific students. In the past I haven't been super cognizant of the way or the moments when students triggered me until well after the fact. Amy affected me so much, pretty much from the moment we arrived at base last week. I was able to acknowledge that though, and work through it relatively constructively. I made it a personal mission to proove that I could work with ehr, even if it meant being uncomfortable with all our interactions bring up for me. I've done so fairly consistantly and succesfully too, I might add. I didn't let her scare me away.
Marie graduated last night. As she likes to say, she took my Open Sky virginity. She was my first good Cleo conversation, my first pathway I signed, my first 1-1 session, my first student mentor, and my first grad. She was also the last of that first core group of girls I worked with my first shift to move on. I guess I'm feeling a little attached to that, and a lot less rapport with the current crop of students. A lot of this is just time, I know, and a lot is just the strange march of hours and deeds that means we must all move forward, willing and concious or not, eventually. Marie's passage though, in a roundabout way brings me to my own journey here. Her departure makes finishing my apprenticeship seem real and closed. Marie was also the one whos eemed to stick with me, even on the off-shift, and I'm curious to see if I can control and process that adequately, now that she's gone.
This journal was meant for this time and this place---I see it so vividly now. The red one lost to Squaw was very much a South place in my experience, full of rages and passions. This one feels so much more contemplative and grounded than before, writting here feels a bit more solid and fluid than before even. I like the feel of it in my hand and the way I feel compelled to open my heart lately while writting.
Even drowsy and zoning I can still hear camp going on a good quarter mile away. Someone yelling the same things at the same people, and I kind of have to laugh. I think this week I've done a lot better at owning up to how I'm feeling, particularly regarding specific students. In the past I haven't been super cognizant of the way or the moments when students triggered me until well after the fact. Amy affected me so much, pretty much from the moment we arrived at base last week. I was able to acknowledge that though, and work through it relatively constructively. I made it a personal mission to proove that I could work with ehr, even if it meant being uncomfortable with all our interactions bring up for me. I've done so fairly consistantly and succesfully too, I might add. I didn't let her scare me away.
Monday, December 01, 2008
Into the North
We camped last night on top of some mesa, one of the coolest moonscapes I've seen out here yet. I love linesleeping for the views, and the returning light here is just beginning to think about creeping back across the desert. The Chuzcos and the next canyon over are still frigid silhouettes, even the lights on the Navajo reservation are still on from the previous night.
It's December 1, and I'm very much feeling the North this morning. The frost on my sleeping bag, the cut in the air, even the attitude of the students these days make everything seem a bit more placid and serious. Winter makes this gig seem so much more long term and steady, like something I'm really committed to for more than the three month summer season. Winter must be taken seriously. I'm curious this morning though, about what my North work would be...
Maryland seems far away, Oregon even further today. Maybe thats the presence of mind and spirit I've been missing for the past few days, come to think of it. Today our journey seems an integral step on my greater journey. For the first time in a while I can see that greater path. The one bigger than Open Sky, the one bigger than being a field guide even. The road stretches out like an already curled birthday ribbon in both directions. Except there is no road, we make the road by walking it.
It's December 1, and I'm very much feeling the North this morning. The frost on my sleeping bag, the cut in the air, even the attitude of the students these days make everything seem a bit more placid and serious. Winter makes this gig seem so much more long term and steady, like something I'm really committed to for more than the three month summer season. Winter must be taken seriously. I'm curious this morning though, about what my North work would be...
Maryland seems far away, Oregon even further today. Maybe thats the presence of mind and spirit I've been missing for the past few days, come to think of it. Today our journey seems an integral step on my greater journey. For the first time in a while I can see that greater path. The one bigger than Open Sky, the one bigger than being a field guide even. The road stretches out like an already curled birthday ribbon in both directions. Except there is no road, we make the road by walking it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
