returning

hello blog, oh how i've missed you.

i can measure how long i've been dating adam by how long i've been absent on the internet. it's crazy how unappealing the internet seems when you've got a cute boy around. as much as i've enjoyed my hiatus from the addiction that is an online presence, i have to say i've missed my journaling.

it's not just adam that has taken me away from writing. i've remained horrendously busy working a full-time and a part-time job, bike commuting, and trying to maintain some sense of order in my home and a sufficient level of personal hygiene. all that and going on adventures with my amazing partner...it's no wonder i haven't had time to write about all that's going on!

so today, different from any other day, i happen to have the whole day off from both jobs and adam went home early to take care of things with his kitties, while i stayed to finish some housecleaning and organizing. this means i've putzed around long enough to feel like settling in to write before claire joins me on skype so we can catch up.

i've had a great day so far. i woke up and cleaned up the warzone in the kitchen from last night's indian dinner. i started some laundry, ate a bowl of soyogurt, and read a bit of my book about trees. eventually adam woke up and i made him oatmeal and he tinkered with iPhoney while i made some bulk food for the week. i'm going to be busy all day everyday until next monday, so i have to make sure i can feed myself on the run. some weeks i'm not so good about doing this on my days off, so i end up eating at dogtown three days a week and binge-eating vegan cookies fromt the co-op. i'm pleased with my foresight this time.

this is a bit of my routine since adam has come into my life. aside from the wild adventures we have together, which more often than not involve long bike rides and lots of vegan food. we split the week at my house and his, depending on my morning schedule at starbucks. he is good about letting out honey, my enormous white bunny rabbit, to hop around and nibble on the wood trim of just about everything in my bedroom. i clean her cage, give her a handful of food, make sure her water is full, and count on adam to make sure she's entertained when i'm not around. it's really hard to work so many hours and then spend every other hour (waking and sleeping) with adam, but it's all worth it.

we've been dating for about three months now, and i much prefer this life to my life before i met him. i had more time to think and reflect then, but all i had to think about was how unhappy i was and how much i wanted to go on adventures, here or anywhere else. those who know me know i love to write about how unhappy i am, but rarely how content i am with life. contentment is uninspiring, i suppose. there's nothing to work out.

i expect claire's call any minute, so i'm going to prepare to be on the phone for at least an hour. then i'm off to the women's group meeting at teen city before i meet adam and his friends at an asian restaurant for dinner. maybe i can come back here in about a week. it'd be nice to get back in the habit again...

signs from above

I used to wait for a sign, she said, before I
did anything. Then one night I had a
dream & an angel in black tights came to
me & said, you can start any time now, &
then I asked is this a sign? & the angel
started laughing & I woke up. Now, I think
the whole world is filled with signs, but if
there's no laughter, I know they're not for me.

[brian andreas]

the whole world is filled with signs. i've always believed it, but this wisdom passed on to me by my mother has never seemed so true as now. a million signs have gently guided me on journeys small and grand, helped me make decisions and choose from a thousand paths that could have taken me anywhere in the world. signs are everywhere, and the more you listen to those little nudges from the universe, the more fun you'll have. i promise.

last night i spent the evening after work with a good friend, savoring food from my favorite little restaurant in rochester and enjoying pleasant conversation. once again i was reminded that, although i loved edinburgh and being with claire, it was good to be back home. home in rochester, with people and places that really make me feel like i belong in this strange new life.

as we were leaving dogtown, we stopped by teen city to get my bicycle. adam laughed at betsy's silly cruiser which i have adopted for the time being, until i can buy my own sweet ride. with headlamp strapped to helmet and handlebars sticking out like bug antennae, he said i was adorable. i'm sure it was closer to ridiculous. i took the compliment anyway. to put it into perspective, adam's sweet ride has bumper stickers, a back seat, speakers for cruising to good tunes, and flashing lights. it's kind of like comparing a harley to a crotch-rocket. without all the macho baggage, of course...

anyway, back to the signs!!! once we were sufficiently equipped with safety gear and had some good music flowing, we took off down monroe ave. i began to pass adam on the sidewalk, only to be completely bombarded by an enormous yellow sign that fell from the storefront 10 feet up. it clipped me in the head (thank goodness for my helmet!) and fell to the ground with that sheet-metal-thunder sound. shocked and simultaneously amused, i dismounted to inspect my attacker. this enormous yellow plastic sign that fell from the sky and hit me in the head, in fact, had the word "sign" on it. so there you have it: a "sign".

the reason why i was certain it really was a sign is that, upon our evaluation of the situation, adam and i fell into stitches of laughter, amused and befuddled by the irony of what had just happened. i was completely unhurt, and could only keep repeating "it's a sign! it's a sign!" as adam took pictures and laughed heartily. he strapped the sign to his back seat and after recovering from our fits of laughter, we resumed our night ride through the rain, still glowing with smiles. he rode home with me, presented me with "the sign" and gave me a nice hug. he rode away, and i brought the sign inside to show betsy and charlie. they were impressed and perplexed, which satisfied me.


i'm not sure what the purpose of this sign was. i know that we really had a lovely time together and it served to reinforce how much joy i think we both felt for the moment. it's not every day that a real sign bashes you in the head, and when it happens, you have to stop and think about what the universe is trying to tell you. i know for certain i will always wear my helmet when riding, and that i will continue to accept invitations to adventure with adam. it seems they are always rewarded with the most curious and mysterious of events. and lots and lots of laughter...

to scotland.

it's about time to leave for the airport.

i'm going to scotland :)

after quite the whirlwind, i've made it to another adventure...one involving passports, airports and time to think. it's my favorite thing in the world. i have a true addiction to it. i'm sitting here in my living room with my luggage in front of me, and there is nothing quite so satisfying as seeing all that work stuffed into a few small bags. i love preparing a suitcase with only the essentials, imagining what kind of journey i will be taking and what things i will need. starting with a large pile and slimming it down to a neat stack. little bottles of shampoo. batteries, snacks and something to read. plenty of socks and underwear.

a long time ago i discovered that this is what i wanted to live for. this is what i wanted my life to be. preparing for the next big adventure, taking the time to explore, grow and learn through challenging and exhilirating experiences. interacting with the whole world. this is what i'm meant to do. i'm not lucky, as one person said, except in that i am american, wealthy compared to the rest of the world and able-bodied. but all other things being equal, you have to want to do these things. it's been a rough little road up to today, losing my passport and finding it again, making financial sacrifices and taking risks, putting in extra hours at work, etc. but i've had so much faith in the beauty of adventure, the value of getting out in the world and taking the time to live, to truly live, in this world, that nothing has made this trip not worth it.

charlie should be here soon to take me to the airport. let's see what scotland has in store for claire bear and me...

begin again.

it is suddenly march.

the beginning. and the end.

last wednesday was ash wednesday, and now we are past the threshold of winter. we may be pummeled by snow storms yet, but winter is losing its battle. the time to start over has come, and there is no stopping it.

in less than 10 days, i will be boarding an airplane, destined for scotland. it will be my first international travel in two years. i won't be there long, but it will be enough. i am so unbelievably excited to see claire. we will get to celebrate her birthday early, visit the highlands and walk and walk and walk and talk and drink coffee. i'm looking forward so much to seeing this new life that she has in edinburgh, and maybe to give her my blessing to stay.

i would like to continue this entry, but i am about to get picked up on my vegan, animal rights, fellow UU-churchgoing friend's bicycle. details later :)

home, sick.

searching boxes underneath the counter
on a chance that on a tape i'd find

a song for
someone who needs somewhere
to long for

homesick
cause i no longer know
what home is
[kings of convenience]

last night there was a confusion between me being home, sick, and homesick. there is a difference, wide and deep, between the two, but i wonder if i can bring them together. i'm intrigued by hearing "homesick" by the kings of convenience today, after that confusion, because the song talks about some feelings that i have about my work that i'm doing and where i want to be. and i know i'm not homesick for michigan, but i could be homesick for california. well, i mean, i'm absolutely homesick for the stanislaus.

so, let's talk about being sick at home and homesick. the former is somewhat antithetical to the latter because if you're home, sick, then you're obviously at home, wherever that is. it is definitely more literal, and doesn't require much of a definition because it is tangible. both being sick and being in a physical space called home are objective (for the most part). but being homesick is entirely abstract, because you are missing a place that physically does not exist. in a way, you can't prove that that place exists because you cannot see it, and whatever your ideas about it, you can't define what it is or what you miss about it. being homesick is in your head, while being sick is entirely within your body.

so at this moment, i suffer from physical sickness. i suppose if i felt like pondering it, i would admit that i miss a place in my memory that no longer exists for me in any physical sense. now that i'm thinking about this...does what i think about place also apply to people? are friends that live thousands of miles away any less because of the space between us? perhaps that is the beauty of communication, because i can still verify their existance through our phone calls and letters. i can't really check in with the trees and deer in the stanislaus to make sure they're still alive and well. i'm tempted to bring in the old addage, "if a tree falls in the woods, does it make a sound?" just because i have no contact with my mountains, does that mean i can't remain connected to it? is it all in my head? who knows.

this is what happens when i take the day off to recover from illness. i make no sense and try to grapple with things beyond my brain's current functioning capacity. i shouldn't drink coffee when i'm this sick...

amigos

this weekend, i finally felt that i have friends here in rochester.

on thursday night, betsy, greta and i went to a valentine's party at one of rochester's living co-ops. we didn't know many people, but we found a few people we had seen around, and had a nice time. then we went to the bug jar and saw melissa from church, tim, and greta's friend pete. the dream team (betsy, me, greta, jenna and jessica) was back together again, and it was so much fun. we got our dance on, majorly. then on friday i went to member development day for americorps and had fun with everyone there, and got to talk with ceridwen a bit. she's awesome. friday night was game night at jenna's and we had a rocking good time. we played "a thousand white cards" and it was so hilarious. definitely a good game for our crowd. i love them the most because they are so creative, funny and comfortable in their own skin. they are my people :) afterwards betsy and i went to sean's for the 90s party and we also had a great time there. then saturday i went out late with starbucks people and we had a ridiculous time. it started with darts at the keg (embarrassing, i know) and ended drinking coffee at 3am at jason's, hanging out and playing guitar. sunday afternoon i went with betsy and charlie to the 20s/30s group outing to the bagel bin with people from my church, and had a great conversation with some people i didn't know, and then got to talk to adam, the amazing (and apparently famous) vegan animal rights activist who just screened a movie he directed in hollywood. it's about the egg and chicken industry, and it looks really incredible. i can't wait to see the screening here in rochester. the best thing is that he's coming over for dinner next sunday! i'm so excited to get a chance to talk to him more. we're going to have a vegan fondu extravaganza....sweet!!

finally, last night i went out with matt, tucker and andy and we had a great time playing darts. now granted, i went out thursday thru sunday nights straight, and that probably was not the best idea, but it was fun and made me feel so much better about finding a place among these various rochester crowds. i feel comfortable with these people, and feel affection and companionship with quite a few of them. it helps to have my "posse", charlie and betsy to discover these wonderful people. i could not have done it without them.

this is a random post, but i just had to say that i finally feel at home here (it only took four months...) and that i'm looking forward to better weather to enjoy with my friends.

time to read!

for peter

"Listening Well"

He had the gift
of stopping time
& listening well
so that it was easy
to hear who
we could become

& that was the future
he held safe
for each of us
in his great heart

you may ask, what now?
& I hope you understand
when we speak softly
among ourselves
& do not answer
just yet

for our future
is no longer the same
without him

[Brian Andreas]

"painting by chagall" - the weepies

Thunder rumbles in the distance, a quiet intensity
I am willful, your insistence is tugging at the best of me
You're the moon, I'm the water
You're Mars, calling up Neptune's daughter

Sometimes rain that's needed falls
We float like two lovers in a painting by Chagall
All around is sky and blue town
Holding these flowers for a wedding gown
We live so high above the ground, satellites surround us.

I am humbled in this city
There seems to be an endless sea of people like us
Wakeful dreamers, I pass them on the sunlit streets
In our rooms filled with laughter
We make hope from every small disaster

Everybody says "you can't, you can't, you can't, don't try."
Still everybody says that if they had the chance they'd fly like we do.

wild rivers, steep cliffs and storm clouds on the horizon

in early july, i had an itch to get back to upper relief valley. we had worked that trail up and down, from relief reservoir down at 7,000 feet all the way to the whitesides meadow junction and back. the steep climb to upper relief became routine, and i had enjoyed our daily hike through a patch of mountain sagebrush. now as we turned toward the lunch meadow trail and inched our way closer to our final camp at emigrant lake, i felt the urge to return to something familiar.

we left in a group of six, my friend grace and i the only women. our supervisor, brian, also joined us on this weekend trip. we made the easy, familiar way through hot, exposed granite stairs and cool, shaded ponderosa pine paths. john, our foreman, had described how to find an old ccc camp, down in lower relief valley near the base of granite dome, and we found it easily.

the next morning, i woke to a crisp clear sierra nevada sun. it was early, and the light was still blocked a bit by the mountains that rose up around us in all directions. checking in, i saw that i was the first one up, as usual. i grabbed my journal and my turquoise beanie and scrambled up the granite rocks near our camp to get a better view of the rising sun. i knew i had at least an hour before anyone else awoke, and so i began some sun salutations. my body was sore from a week of trail work and a fast hike with all my weekend gear, but it felt good to stretch out my tired muscles. it had been two months since i joined the crew at our strawberry camp, and i'm sure if i could have looked at myself in a proper mirror, i would have been shocked by the tanned, muscular girl in front of me. nothing can make a girl prettier than abundant sunshine, fresh mountain air and miles and miles of hiking for months on end. that morning, stretching and breathing the crisp alpine air, i felt beauty emanating from me, from the depths of my soul. it was time to write.

as often happened on our weekends, i was soon joined in my solitary morning by owen, or professor ridings as we like to call him. in fact, there were many times when i was startled by his presence; he had awoken and was meditating twenty yards from me on another rock. sometimes our eyes would meet and we would simply smile, and return to our private thoughts and meditations. this morning, he sat in silence for a long time. he had suffered and fought so much in his life; i thanked the universe that this morning he knew peace.

after a quick breakfast of oatmeal and coffee, and my failed attempts not to wake everyone else up, we all slowly made our way to the river, and those magnificent waterfalls.

the water was freezing cold. snowmelt. it fell fast over several pools that were walled in on both sides by steep rocks. we played in the crisp cool water for more than an hour, swimming under the falls and taking pictures as the water pounded down around us. it was slippery and the whole time i was there, i felt on the edge of danger...deliciously risky. life in the wilderness often feels that way. we are wild creatures in our deepest core, and survival instincts begin to show themselves in the face of wild rivers, steep cliffs and storm clouds on the horizon...

as the morning slowly crept towards noon, justin, mike, owen and i found a small plateau of brilliant white granite on which to sunbathe. i had spent so much time with these boys that i felt only a bit bashful in stripping completely and lying fully nude on the hot rocks. they did the same. we lay there for an hour, drying off and warming up after our exhilirating time in the waterfalls. sometimes the wilderness gives you too much time to think. especially on a saturday afternoon smack in the middle of a summer in the mountains, i blissfully thought about nothing. not a care in the world...

eventually our stomachs beckoned us back to camp. the boys headed down the rocks to follow the river back, but i had to cross over the falls to get my towel. i made it across the water without too much trouble, but i found myself in a tough position. the spot where i had left my things was a bit downstream, and although i had climbed down from this point, it was much more difficult to climb back up. in my sandals and underwear, i scrambled up a few rocks, grabbing roots and small cracks in the granite to help myself up. eventually though, i was almost entirely cliffhung, sliding on an angled platform. there was barely enough room for me and my sandals did me no good on the sandy rocks. precariously, my heart beating fast and thoughts of imminent death racing through my mind, i loosened my sandals and slung them around my wrist. using my bare feet for better grip i awkwardly reached for a handhold on the rocks above me. somehow, thanks to my survival insticts, i made it up to the top of the rock face, and sat panting in the hot sun. and for the second time that day, i thanked the universe for her mercy and saving grace.

gathering my things and carefully climbing the rest of the way down the granite rocks, i noticed some dark stormclouds building up. we would not escape this storm, i knew.

the rest of the afternoon was spent under a tarp, in sleeping bags, listening to music and laughing at dumb jokes and silly stories. grace, mike and i had become pretty close and we had fun waiting out the rain in our makeshift shelter. not much rain fell that evening, but by the next morning the rain was inevitable, and we wondered when we should head back to our camp.

rain fell around ten in the morning, and by noon we figured there would be no break. loading our already damp packs on our backs, we started out on the relatively short hike home. by the time we reached the stanislaus river crossing, the rain had been falling for hours, and the river had risen significantly. it was too high and too fast to cross. we waited by the river, heating some water for hot chocolate and using what dry wood we could find to make a small fire. we had no idea what to do. john had advised us to wait it out if ever we found a river too high to cross. it would be better to return late than to attempt such a dangerous crossing. but it was pointless to wait. besides, we were hungry.

at brian's suggestion, we swung on our packs and hiked back about a mile and half up the trail to a wider point in the river. it would be slower and shallower, for sure. but would that be enough for it to be safe to cross? brian, our resident "captain america", dropped his pack and inched out into the river, testing the current to decide whether we could cross. he determined it was possible, and we prepared to cross. the boys went first, with very little trouble. then it was my turn. at five foot two, the river was more than waist high on me. the boys made a sort of assembly line to pass my pack over to the other shore. we sent across grace's and brian's as well. as soon as i stepped into the swift river, my feet went out from under me. by this point i probably weighed no more than 115 pounds, and could not get a grip on the slippery rocks beneath me. brian grabbed me and tried to straighten me out, but it was hopeless. i could not get a firm stance in the river, so the men passed me down the line, gripping me by the lapels. zach yelled, half jokingly, half worriedly, for me to stand up. i laughed and looked at him hopelessly. there was no way i could. they safely passed me off until finally i reached the other shore. they saved my life. and we all were in fits of laughter. grace fared a bit better, though not much. finally we all gathered on the opposite shore, tried to dry off and then began the cross-country trip back to camp.

it was a rough hike, scrambling over rocks and slipping on slimy, mossy logs. at one point i was lost in a patch of tall bushes next to the river, stepping into deep pools and getting caught on pokey branches. we were all tired and wanted to get home, so we scattered and then got frustrated when others went in different directions. at last, we made it to the trail that would take us back to camp.

despite the danger, despite the setbacks and despite the unforgiving nature of the wilderness, we managed to live through these trials not only safely, but laughing all the way. we survived because of the intense commitment we had to each other, and because of the individual fires that burned inside each one of us. we had a personal desire to survive, and a collective desire to succeed.

i never made it all the way up to upper relief valley that weekend, nor anytime for the rest of the season for that matter, but i made peace with that reality. the first moment i had seen upper relief was etched in my brain forever, and no doubt it would never again be as beautiful. you can never go back to those moments. especially if you're looking for something that was there before. we must live each day to the fullest and take what we can from the time we have. no use looking for what was there before.

i finished desert solitaire today, and i'm happy and sad, feeling empty and full, all at once. it was wonderful, albeit tough for me to get through. mostly because i didn't want it to end. i didn't want him to have to leave arches, to go home and wonder, when he goes back, if he goes back, will it be the same? will he be the same?

i sat in a cafe for an hour, eating a croissant and sipping on delicious coffee with lots of cream, and i pondered these questions. of course, i don't plan to return to the backcountry to do all the same things, to be with the same people and see the same sights. i know it would be different, just as i would be different. but in some ways, the wilderness that i left behind is more dependable than anything i could hope to find here in civilization. and the girl that left the mountains was more confident, more energetic, more alive than the one sitting here now. if i did return, i would be older, wiser. i would look at the time i have there in a different light, knowing how precious it really is. if i returned, i would know better than to ever leave again...

if only...

my saving grace (which is also the bane of my existance) is my routine commute by foot around the city of rochester. today, i tried to catch the bus home from teen city, but, realizing i was really early for the bus, i decided to walk part of the way. that turned into ALL of the way. it was just easier, faster, and cheaper than waiting 20 minutes in the cold for a bus that would take 2 minutes and cost me a dollar. my hands weren't numb, so i continued on. i'm proud that i walk everywhere. it's actually not as cold as riding my bike, i've found, since the wind blows so cold on my face. and it gives me time to think. too much, maybe.

i, like ed abbey, like to be alone. my sister is gone with charlie to seattle until next week, and i'm starting to savor my solitude, and the silence it brings me. in silence, in solitude, i have room to stretch my brain. to think long and hard, and sometimes to think of nothing at all. mostly to daydream, a skill i honed from needing something to distract me from 2000 ft climbs up a mountain with tools on my back. i had lovely daydreams while hiking. when it got REALLY bad, i would just think of those damn sheep that surrounded gage and me and woke us up on the morning of the summer solstice. the thought of those sheep would make me smile and even laugh, even on the most grueling hike to work. now, i think of a lot of memories of the backcountry, and dreams of returning to the sierras. i plan wild escapes in winter to warm places with no people, just me and the sky. i can almost smell the sagebrush and juniper and cedar, hear the wind blow through the canyons and taste the dust from the trail in my mouth. i can feel the mountain air. i also think a lot about trails we worked for weeks at a time. i go over in my head every turn in the trail, every incline, switchback, obstacle and view, picturing each step as if i had taken slides of the whole way up the mountain. i don't think i could ever get lost in that part of the stanislaus. i probably know it better than the back of my hand (who ever studies the back of their hand, anyway?)

i started out just wanting to mention that i finished desert solitaire, and that i wished ed abbey had offered me a better handhold out of this hole i find myself. "a hole as deep as my regret." i wish he hadn't left me hanging on the hope that he would return, so that i might return, and find things not necessarily the same, but more familiar than this strange world in which i find myself now. i wish i didn't have to read about all those beautiful arches and rivers and sunsets, and then return to this icy white jungle. i wish i didn't have to wake up at 4:00 in the morning tomorrow. peace...