We Are, By Nature...

If life is by nature the nature of the natural world we exist in

Do we simply occupy the nature of that around us?

Or are we subject to the nature of such life

Should the forces of nature be applied to us?

Are we not, by nature, one of those forces?

Definitions and Perspectives

are that which nature withholds its wrath

   or rather

Are a wrath beyond the grips

Is it man that unanimously ascribes

   himself above the laws of life?

The ultimate Faustian developer

  surpassed our Mephisto guide long ago

Now moving faster than the speed of destruction

On an unstoppable trajectory?

If life is -by nature- 

   governed by the principles on which it all turns

Then are we.... 

   as natural as a flame at the end of its fuel?

Ride the Wave or Get Pulled Under

A quick little location sketch of where I was this time last week:

The warm brown sugar sand is perfectly formed into a little bench to rest on. It extends out to sea foam carpets inviting in those who dare. Past the invitation of the shallows, quick sets of aqua curls are speckled with little black figures. They wait for the right moment to paddle hard and drop into thousands of kilometers of pent-up energy. On top of the wave is intense therapy, underneath unforgiving harshness. Either way, every challenge an opportunity to grown, learn, forgive, and do it all over again. The waves mean no harm nor do they know the power they share with us. Its just a simple reaction to universal forces. All we are doing is make the most of it.

Never Cut to a Closed Door

Time is of the moment and fleeting fast so pardon the unpolishedness but here's the deal:

It's hard to say what's different or why, I should say. Maybe its the NLP, maybe its the new place, new people, new priorities or we can just blame the moon, this is not the town I landed in six weeks ago. Well, it is but it looks, sounds, and feels pretty different. Last night was an amazing convergence of worlds; slam world, Oz hip hop, and Australian ecology/sustainable development...all in one room with a generous helping of glorious glamrock. It goes to show how anything is truly possible when you start living by the immortal words of the great Tiny Fey always follow with "Yes and..." While she is talking about rules for successful improv sketches, I think this is applicable as generalized life advice (until STDs or police could be involved, lets say). 

I just need to sleep less, write more, read more, laugh more, and definitely dance way more. Those years exploring the scientific viewpoint were invaluable but its time to remember that its just that ONE perspective and there's still so much more to delve into. But what gets people through the good times, the tough times, the seemingly impossible: the outer limits of our brains, not how well we've trained them to follow somebody else's rules. Its a mind-boggling expansive void of creative energy that we all reside in. And you can't see, hear, smell, taste, feel, think or know that which you don't believe in. Pausing to really take it in will hopefully lead to future creative ventures. 

When I say "I used to....this and I used to that" the flaw in that is assuming time is a barrier not an opportunity builder, which of course its the latter. Finding the lesson in every path that starts with "Yes, and..", polishing it into a productive, funny, and enlightening story-nugget and figuring out who to share it with is the present task at hand.


Sidenote: I met Tim Flannery last night. It was pretty ordinary but my internal dialogue was going a mile a minute. If you don't know who he is, look it up. He's kind of a big deal. 

Weekly Grind...Vagabond Style.

The road life takes its tolls, a lost toenail, a bit scraped & bruised, and always on the verge of tired and hungry...but it's still close to comfort to me. Can't quite explain it. It's the solace in desert sunrises as you float down the Colorado River, the first light to hit a frost covered camp at Pinnacles, and the joy of some kid enthusiastically proclaiming something you taught on trail when it seemed like nobody was listening. For the most part, the students have never met people quite like us Natties and most of the teachers probably just think we're a bunch of hippies and dirtbaggers but somehow it always seems to work. With some teamwork and copious amounts of snacks and coffee, almost anything can be accomplished. Even if the weeks seem the same on paper, between the kids, the weather, and the wildlife...nothing's ever the same. And nothing's ever over till that bus is out of eye site. Don't put away those first aid kits a minute too soon.
Over the past few weeks I've frolicked around the real-life Disney movie that is Malibu Creek State Park numerous weeks, seen my first bighorn sheep, welled up thinking about Abby at Lonesome's gravesite at one of the outpost camps in Picacho State Park (slotted to be shut down indefinitely in only a few months now), visited a number of CA's many breweries, been snowed on halfway up a route in Joshua Tree NP, cooked up a storm (figuratively) in the desert and averted one (literally) the next week. Who says you can't play Muphy's Law to your favor...I did! Predictions and plans are great in theory, and sometimes useful, but at the end of the day, life doesn't happen in theory.

Polaris will always point us north, cube trucks can always break down at the least convenient moment, and Natties will always be dirty. These are constants that I find solace in. Its a daily learning process in not sweating the small stuff, it makes that week before your next shower seem so much farther away!

The Past Holds Us Up, Only If We Let It in the Present

"Follow Beauty, for where she is not, there is nothing."

I don't even know him that well and here we are sitting on a log across the river, pondering our existence.
"Do you want to try to meditate?"
"Here, on this log, facing each other?"
"Yeah! Let's each think of a question then sit silently for five minutes and see where our minds go."
What followed was externally simple but internally too intimate to share. Looking forward with the river rushing under me, the sun consuming the break in the treeline above, and the strength of a long deceased redwood sustaining me, a sense of calm overtook. While so focused on internal critizism, I've failed to listen to everthing around me. I've failed to see the trees for the wood. It was really the first time I let the redwoods be part of me instead of just around me. It took a friend who's never seen them before to show me how.

As that day progressed, even work seemed like a pleasure. We sped around the back of our mountain to overlook thousands of acres of wild lands. Both of us being from the East, sights like this are a rare commodity. The conversation bounced from bigfoot to the existence of the divine in us all and many places in between. Dusk set in to the increased chorus of pacific treefrogs. We decided to start a campfire, which I initially failed at, and got on a second try. With the light and warmth radiating from the center point, the day concluded as it had passed, superbly serenely.

Day two started early, was strenuous and punctuated with a beer break and naps. Just when I found myself starting to worry that I was being a bad host, I'd let the thought go. So what. If he wanted to leave, he could. After hours of hard work we'd have to come back the next day to ride. A bit disappointing but no worries. Popping your equine cherry on a beautiful beach is worth a little wait.

That night I watched "Groundhog Day" while he snored away behind me. Never one of my favorite movies, I enjoyed it in this context. It struck a chord on this actual day of the groundhog. When every day is exactly as the one before, your happiness and well-being is entirely up to you. We have to be somewhere, might as well enjoy it. I've been in one of the great American landscapes for weeks and taken it for granted.

The windy road to the stables gave way to more speak of why we wander. Here this person next to me is only a year older than me and similarly traveled, but yet has the strength to see exponentially more. And I had the pleasure of picking his juicy brain and open heart for 48 hours. Something I did right in the past or just luck's time to fruit. Either way, this is the perfect culmination of an emotional roller coaster that was winter.

Getting ready for my next jaunt on the road, I stride confidently focused squarely on the Beauty. How she manifests herself, only time can tell...so why worry.

             *Thank you from the reaches of my heart to all my friends and family that have helped me through these past three months.*

You bring the beef, I'll get the bullets.

The moon is rising over the tops of the redwoods as the fog rolls in for the night. A few remnant embers smolder in the fire pit sending the smoke dancing up to the heavens serving as the last reminder. For all the weekends of friends and neighbors that pass through this wintery adventure, the one that just transpired was the most educational, uplifting and exhausting. My body aches in places it never has before, as a result of my enthusiasm wielding a chainsaw for the first time, and just when I was starting to think that my ranch hand training was just about over too! You have to realize it's not just a chainsaw; its what it represents, on many levels. Quality firewood means warmth, comfort, and convenience. Motorized cutting tools are paramount to controlling your wild domain out here where the wood is hard and big. And even more visceral than that, being able to hold one's own in the social scene requires at least a brief tutorial on safely playing lumberjack. I am proud to don my Carhartt work jeans, dirty flannel shirt and keep pace with the best of 'em.

Life out here is kind of like a gay republican or fried ice cream. It combines things that seemingly don't really go together and somehow it just works. Its drinking tequila out of a budweiser can. It's the grandma down the street who makes you hot cocoa then invites you out to her shooting range. Imagine a burly, gun toting, forester sitting fireside on Friday night sharing an impassioned feminist rant about laws governing reproductive rights. Crazy, right? Coffee by day, cannabis by night and everything in between. People here might be polar opposites in many ways and typically at least 5 miles apart yet the sense of community here is greater than anywhere else I've ever lived. When life is an active pursuit of basic needs, it doesn't pay to isolate one's self. The pack is your greatest asset. In light of recent history, I'm not nearly as scared of becoming a crazy hermit. 

While I am definitely not a country girl, I'm becoming less of a city girl everyday. The daily intake of learning opportunities seem endless and I have no plans for quitting. Off the grid energy, gardening, mushrooms, hacking up dead trees, and feline husbandry are just a few of my recent classes. There is still the whole arena of woodworking that I haven't even glanced at yet. Only time can tell, as things are mighty unpredictable this side of civilized. All I do know is that I'm surrounded by knowledge and support from these woods as well as its dysfunctional tribe. With the right power tools, I think I might just make it!