Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Hello again, Old Friend.


A couple of days ago I pulled out my backpack to pack it yet again. It was like seeing an hold friend when I did this. My bursting pack was a part of me for the first month of my expedition from Seattle. After that I lived out of it for another month or two and I finally fully unpacked it and stored it away about a month ago. Now here I am again, all packed up, though this time with far fewer things.

The journey is to go like this:

Drive (ride) from Rockland to Portland.
Get dropped off in Portland. Thanks Shamus!
Bus from Portland to Boston.
Fly from Boston to Dublin.
Quick switch (if all goes well) in Dublin, then off to Venice.

Phew. Time to get this party started. It's been an anxious last couple of days for me. If you know me, you know I'm wildly impatient. Before a big trip/adventure of any sort, I get crazy brain about the week prior to my departure. I run through every scenario possible- good, bad, ugly, unexpected, anticipated- and allow my mind to run wild. Then, the day before I leave, I get excited. Crazy out of my mind excited. The kind of excited where I feel like my brain is going to explode out of my ears and my bladder is going to explode out of my butt. Yes, that kind of excitement. Tourettes level excitement. It's a pretty intense scene. Yesterday was nuts. I worked my last shift at the toy store for two weeks, had my last Shag Rock brewed beer at my restaurant (as it is closing it's doors forever while I'm gone) and spent the evening with a few good friends.


The drive down to Portland was gorgeous. Maine in the Fall is one of the most beautiful things I've seen. The East Coast (specifically New England) has a special kind of Fall. If you've lived or been here in the Fall, then you know what I'm talking about. It is incredible. The colors of the trees are so vibrant, even when it's raining. The red, orange and yellow leafy trees go on as far as the eye can see. Driving through all the sweet little towns, decorated with festive scarecrows, pumpkins and Halloween whatnot, as colorful leaves fall, blowing across yards and roads, you're mind isn't on the where you're going or how long it will take you to get there, rather you're ineluctably drawn to a peaceful state of mind. Don't believe me? Come to Maine and give it a try. I dare you ;-) Just not any time in the next two weeks!

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

I Am a Breathing Time Machine


I wanna have friends that I can trust,
that love me for the man I’ve become not the man I was.
I wanna have friends that will let me be
all alone when being alone is all that I need.
I wanna fit in to the perfect space,
feel natural and safe in a volatile place.
And I wanna grow old without the pain,
give my body back to the earth and not complain.
Will you understand …

I'm sitting on my bed at the moment, it's dark and drizzly outside. Wind is blowing through the open windows of the apartment, causing the blinds to crash against the windows with each gust. James Taylor is playing on the record player and I find myself reflecting on the life I've started in Maine. Granted this is something I mull over often. But with the season changing, it's caused a deep reflection, not just on this new life I've created in Maine, but in life in general.

***If you really want to get into my head space (scary!) I recommend finding The Avett Brothers album "I and Love and You" (any of their songs, really) and listening to it (in no specific order) as you read this lengthy entry ...***

I query to myself: Is there ever a time when personal growth isn't good? No, I suppose not, I decide. But there is something about the change of seasons, particularly that from Summer to Fall, that makes the change in the world feel very significant. My personal belief is that we have drastically tried to remove ourselves from how animal-like we are. We pretend that using "smart" phones, driving cars and forming governments make us somehow above nature. Yet when our towns flood, an earthquake shakes the ground, or a tornado tears through a town, we are reminded that nature truly is in charge, no matter how "smart" our phones are.

In the Fall, we forget (or willfully ignore) that this season is one of migration, change, new skin, new feathers and new homes for many animals. Despite how "human" we want to be, we can't escape the changing of the season. Even our society forces us to change- youth return to school, coffee shops begin touting pumpkin spiced drinks, stores put up Halloween and Christmas displays and you're forced to accept that the long sunny days of summer have passed. Not only have they passed, but suddenly you're thinking about Christmas, which is 3 months away. What is comedic about this to me is that never in May do you see stores (or anyone for that matter) spouting off about Fall and the back-to-school season. But I digress. Back to us being animals... we are. Plain and simple. No matter how much we'd like to ignore the fact.

This last week I've been reading a bit about animals that migrate during the Fall. And I've found some interesting information. The Rufous Hummingbirds, which only weigh about 4 grams, fly roughly 2000 miles from Canada and the American Northwest to spend their winters in Mexico. Caribou migrate from the Arctic/Sub-Arctic regions during fall and winter, clocking anywhere from 120 to 400 miles just to get to slightly warmer areas. The one that really gets me is the Monarch butterfly. They are everywhere in Maine, but this is the month they begin their journey south to warmer climates. When reading about their migration, I learned that...
"In all the world, no butterflies migrate like the Monarchs of North America. They travel much farther than all other tropical butterflies, up to three thousand miles. They are the only butterflies to make such a long, two way migration every year. Amazingly, they fly in masses to the same winter roosts, often to the exact same trees. Their migration is more the type we expect from birds or whales. However, unlike birds and whales, Monarchs only make the round-trip once. It is their children's grandchildren that return south the following fall." 


They flap their beautiful wings for 3000 miles and succeed en masse. What's more thought provoking to me is...
When the late summer and early fall Monarchs emerge from their pupae, or chrysalides, they are biologically and behaviorally different from those emerging in the summer. The shorter days and cooler air of late summer trigger changes. In Minnesota this occurs around the end of August. Even though these butterflies look like summer adults, they won't mate or lay eggs until the following spring. Instead, their small bodies prepare for a strenuous flight. Otherwise solitary animals, they often cluster at night while moving ever southward. If they linger too long, they won't be able to make the journey; because they are cold-blooded, they are unable to fly in cold weather.
It reminds me that as we grow older with each year, to the rest of the world we look like adults, but it is going to take a season or two of a change of "climate" and/or geography before we are ready for what life holds for us next. We've still got growing (up) to do. Much like these butterflies, if we linger too long, we won't be able to make the journey. This reminds me of how important it was for me to leave Seattle precisely when I did. Had I lingered much longer, the course of events that followed would never have happened the way they did. Had I let me heart get the best of me, I would have continued to attach myself to a stagnant life and easily become to weak (likely in my heart) to make the journey across country.

Now of course I don't think every Fall I need to uproot and move 3000 miles from where I've been. I realize that each Fall, the necessary migration is going to be different. Perhaps one year it will be to migrate from one friendship or relationship to another. Or maybe a migration from one way of seeing life, to a new and different way. And maybe it will be to uproot and move to a new town (or country!)... it's impossible to know, that's what makes the changing season so exciting to me.

So what to do with all of this reflection? Well, for myself I am going to live the lyrics I sing, to songs I love. Like this one ... "My parents taught me to learn when I miss. Just do your best. Just do your best. It's the only way to keep that last bit of sanity. Maybe I don't have to be good, but I can try to be at least a little better than I've been so far." Being aware that it is migration season, I need not to worry or dwell on what was, who I was or what could have been. Rather, I need to live in the now. Embrace the life I have today, not the life I lived yesterday. It may not be a perfect life, I may not do all things the way I should, but I will do my best to do better than I have before. That is what I can give myself, as well as those who surround me.

In addition to all of this season change, I've been reconciling what it means to live in Maine instead of in Seattle. Of course it's only been 3 months, I realize that this winter is going to fly by and soon it will be summer again and I'll be amazed that it's been an entire year since I lived in Seattle. However, whenever I end a Skype conversation with friends or family from home or when I get a sweet letter in the mail, I am brought to that emotional state where all I want to do is wrap my arms around someone who has known me for longer than 3 months. It's healthy, I think. To me it means I've created strong bonds with some great people and that being away from them is actually something that makes me sad because they are great people. People who have brought much happiness to my life. Saying "see you later" to some friendships and figuring out what long distance friendships look like has it's toll on my heart. Luckily for me I am surrounded by some great people here in my new home. The adventures are endless and I smile about new things everyday. How lucky am I to know amazing people on each side of the country? To know that I have a home waiting for me in Seattle and if ever I'm back in Seattle, to know that I've got a home waiting for me in Rockland is a rather humbling and truly heart warming feeling. Yes, I said heart warming. Deal with it.

This weekend Julie, Abbey, Shamus and I ventured to Boston for an Avett Brothers concert. Roughly 3.5 hours from Rockland, we got an early start to the day so we could venture around Boston before the show. We stopped at Moody's Diner in Waldoboro for breakfast. The proper start to any journey. If you're ever in Maine, you must stop at Moody's. Take my word for it, I know my eating establishments.


After paying $6 for my hearty biscuits, gravy and egg breakfast, we hopped back in the car, blasted The Avett Brothers and continued south on Route 1. The drive was stunning, as usual. The day was clear of almost all clouds. It was warm, but had that perfect autumn breeze blowing. We couldn't have planned it better. Soon Boston welcomed us with a waving flag and brilliant sunshine.



We made it to Cheers and enjoyed some afternoon brews.




 Boston was awesome. A really great city I can't wait to spend more time in! I look forward to more adventures there over the next few months. We made it to the show and had a blast. The Avett Brothers rocked the house and played their hearts out for a very grateful crowd. I kicked my shoes off and danced to my hearts content.


With the glow of city lights surrounding us, we hailed a cab, headed back to the car and piled in for the long journey home. At 3AM I gladly fell into bed with a content heart for all of the wonderfulness that I am surrounded by. As I will do again tonight. My soul settles as the wind blows and I embrace now. Right now.

Friday, August 24, 2012

Sometimes you have to stand alone, just to make sure you still can.


"The soul always knows what to do to heal itself. The challenge is to silence the mind."
Caroline Myss


It has been a very thoughtful week. I've been doing a lot of reflecting on the life I left behind in Seattle/Washington, as well as the life I've lived so far this summer in Maine. I've been going back and forth between feeling queasy and hopeful at the idea of flying home for a visit. No, I'm not heading back anytime soon. But the holidays will be coming up quickly and I've got to plan for that. Just the thought of stepping back into the town and life I left brings up a great deal of emotions. It wasn't my intention to fully let go of Seattle this summer. I headed to Maine with an open mind and no solid plans. As it turns out, the universe did have plans for me.

The cosmic universe has been doing a lot of work on my soul, as far as I've been open to it. Abandoning all was terrifying, but freeing in a way nothing else could be. It's been an incredibly healing time for my soul this summer. I've been so fortunate to meet people who have embraced me so warmly, that little pieces of my heart that were once broken, are now gently being hemmed back together. Scars that once were, are slowly fading. What I'm realizing is that this is a team effort. Me opening myself up to people, things and places and then those people, things and places opening up to me. When we meet in that serendipitous way, the healing begins. My only hope is that I am giving back as much as I am being given.

I've been realizing my power in all aspects of my life. It's occurred to me that although I may have personified myself as someone who knows power, I haven't owned that in quite some time. I've been allowing myself to settle for mediocre, for broken and painful. Of course not in everything, this isn't meant to be dramatic. But deep in my heart, in my soul, I've been seeking and feeding off of many friendships and relationships that did more to hinder the best in me, as opposed to spurring on the best in me. This is no fault of anyone's but my own. Powerless over my destiny and healing is how I've allowed my heart to think.

My radar for the broken has always been quite keen, and I've been radically drawn to it. I'm convinced that there is a certain degree of maternal instinct that draws one to others who aren't whole, who need healing and who aren't able to find peace in their heart and soul. Which is good, we all need to care for one another. We can't entirely heal alone, there needs to be that encouragement and support from fellow earth souls. However, for myself, I have recognized that right now I can't wrap my life, heart and soul up in those who aren't ready to heal. And I've been doing that for some time. Allowing my heart to stay stagnant with open wounds that I have paid no attention to or gladly ignored. It caused me to become calloused, snarky and outright selfish more often than not. Not things I'm proud of, but the truth nonetheless.

I realize growth is all about seasons. We must endure and experience certain things in life in order to value what we came through and what we learned. The refiners fire, if you will. I'm not trying to diminish the life I was living prior to these last few months. But I am aware that I actively allowed myself to stay stagnant and used my wounds as a crutch, instead of as inspiration to heal and move forward.

My soul did know what it needed to do to heal. The problem was silencing my mind. No easy task. It's a wonder to me how many of us walk around in this world full of endless possibilities, yet never throw caution to the wind and seize that which will heal us in ways we can't even fathom. Though I suppose that's just it- we can't even imagine the wonder of what can happen to us if we take that scary step and follow what our soul has been crying out for. That is why we must  love and support one another. But one cannot pour themselves out and into others when they themselves are empty. We must heal ourselves in order to help others heal. It's like when someone is drowning, as they flail about attempting at saving themselves, if you aren't strong enough and you try to save them, they will drag you down with them, both of you dying in the process. If I value those I want to see heal, I must heal myself first and know my limits and boundaries in those relationships in order to not just stay alive, but to thrive as wholeheartedly as I can.

Have you heard your soul crying out for healing? Have you recently had wounds heal? Have you deadened your mind to the call of your heart? How do you silence your mind when your soul knows what it needs to do to heal? Have you had someone come along side you and pour life into you?

I admit that these answers that I seek
Are all to questions I've never known
But I pray to keep on looking for as long as I can roam
And when the world finally fulfills me
I will not forget my way back home

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

You are what you are and you ain't what you ain't

Can't you see the sunshine? Can't you just feel the moonshine? 

It's 2:30AM and I should be going to bed. Alas, I'm going to write. It's funny when the urge to blog arises. But here it is. Work tonight was... decent. I'm thankful for a job, especially one that I can get to in 46 seconds from my house on my scooter. That's pretty good. Pretty decent. The attitudes of the people there I could do without. I could also do without the entitled folks who are the greatest part of our clientele. But alas, it's good money and easy enough work. So thankful I stay.

Since being here, I've been able to start fresh in most aspects of my life. That's a pretty incredible feeling. I think everyone wants a clean slate, but doesn't know it. Being able to enter into friendships, relationships, jobs and the like without anyone having preconceived notions about me has been quite freeing. It's also been great to try new things. My life has been full of all things new. It's been so much fun getting to try and experience new things.

I've tried foods I've never eaten before. Scapes, fiddleheads and haddock to name a few. I LOVE scapes. Such a delicious treat. Fiddleheads I'm not convinced about, but I'll give them a few more tries. Haddock is quite tasty. I had a haddock/crabcake sandwich the other day and it was delicious. A haddock fillet, with a crabcake on top, so good! I've also been cooking. Ha. If you've known me in my adulthood, you know I don't cook. It's not that I can't, it's that I have chosen not to. I haven't enjoyed it and I have always loved the convenience of calling a restaurant and getting food delivered to my door or walking down the street to a restaurant and having a stranger prepare my meal. However, recently I've taken a liking to creating meals.

Last night I made haddock tacos and guacamole for our weekly get together- White Trash Monday- It was fun to take a couple of recipes and combine and tweak them for the tacos. They turned out quite delicious. I even made one lobster taco. That was also tasty. Next week it's a southern theme for WTM, so I'm going to try my hand at gluten free fried chicken and okra. I may even attempt collard greens!
 I've also tried a lot of new drinks. Blueberry soda, blueberry beer, blueberry coffee, dandelion and burdock soda, as well as a few different ciders. I've liked all of them. It's always a wonder to me that we have so many endless options for food and drink consumption.


Another favorite thing of mine this summer has been the new/old music I've been listening too. My friend Shamus has been inundating me with such great tunes. John Prine, Hayes Carll and Ray Wylie Hubbard have become essentials in my daily listenings. It's different listening to these fellows in a rural setting, as opposed to in the city. At least for me it is. Prine's "Spanish Pipedream" is a song I listen to everyday. The first time I went to Rockland's farmers market, the band played it and ever since I've been in love with it. Hayes Carll may be new to the scene, but he's clearly got an old soul.

"I got a woman she's wild as Rome
She likes to lay naked and be gazed upon
She crosses a bridge and then sets it on fire
Lands like a bird on a telephone wire"

Carll brings to life Hubbard's classic "Drunken Poet's Dream" with his own spin on it and does absolute justice to the song. Not something that usually happens. There is just something about sitting at the beach, smoking cigarettes under the incredible night sky while this kind of music plays. It's feeding my soul in ways I'll never know again.

Thursday, August 16, 2012

A Rainy Day in Maine

  It's rather appropriate that it is grey and raining today. Two months ago I boarded a plane in Seattle, flew to Nashville and began my adventure. Here I am, two months later, sitting on the couch, in my home, with the windows wide open, listening to the rain soak the town. Wow. I can't believe I made it! I'm in living in Maine. I've got a home, a job, an incredible group of friends and I am eating blueberries all the day long.
This week I've been reflecting on when I first thought "I really want to move to Maine and eat lobsters and blueberries everyday." That was about three years ago. Now here I am. I just love that! Some times while hanging out with my magical Maine family, I just exclaim "I live in MAINE!"
  I am so thankful to be able to do such things. It makes me feel so passionate about life when I look back  on all the adventures I've had since I first moved off Anderson Island. Being fairly nomadic, I have moved around. Hawaii, Idaho, New Mexico and numerous towns up and down the I-5 corridor in Washington, all places that I've attempted to settle in. Seattle was the first place I found that I really enjoyed and liked living in. It is a great city- it's got it's quarks, but I really love that city. However, after five years, I got burnt out. Burnt out on city life and city folk.
  The pace was so fast, the things people complained about were superficial, everyone was always planning for the next moment, the next day, the next thing. Everyone was moving fast, had so many "things" to do, that you have to schedule just to meet up with friends. When you ask someone if they want to hang out, they have to check their calendar. Then they schedule you in. And then you have to hope they don't double book. Or you don't double book. You meet up at specific hour, then know that you only have a limited amount of time before you both are obligated to be doing something else.

Damn, it's exhausting just writing about it.

  I always felt rushed, I always felt tense and a little cranky. Some people like living that way, but it's not for me anymore. I'm sure I'll want to be back living in the city at one point. Maybe. This summer in Maine has been the most refreshing thing for me. I couldn't have ever dreamed up what's happened. I didn't really put high expectations on coming here, aside from expecting blueberries and lobsters. And those expectations have been far exceeded! Blueberries in everything- my tea, beer, ice cream, desserts, coffee, soda, BBQ sauce, syrup and pretty much anything else you can imagine. Also, on everything- cups, plates, books, clothes and on and on. I haven't eaten lobster everyday, but I've eaten it often. And the season isn't over yet- I've got plenty of lobsters to devour this next month or two.
  Rockland and Maine have quickly become favorite places of mine. I know I'm "from away" - that's a colloquial phrase they use here to describe anyway that isn't from here, that's from away - but I love it here. The people, the pace, the mindset, the priorities, all of it just aligns with what I need in life right now.
  Two months in and I am so thankful. I feel so sane, rarely rushed and generally always at peace. Even when I do get wrapped up in something negative, for whatever reason peace quickly settles in and negative feelings subside. I've been learning a great deal about myself this summer and am thankful for the freedom to explore what I want, need and am passionate about. I'm looking forward to the next two months! Can't wait to see what kind of adventures I'll go on!

Friday, August 10, 2012

The Price of Failure is $10

My most recent act of jackassery occurred Monday night. I went to Athens Pizzeria to take on the "Fire Breather Challenge" - The challenge?

Made with: Jalopenos, pepperoncinnis, Habaneros, Buffalo chicken, crushed red pepper, and Spontaneous Combustion hot sauce(with pure capsicum extract)! Total weight: 3lbs. Eat in in 30 min. or less and it's free! A signed legal wavier is required for participation.

No question, I am a glutton. No question, I love spice. This challenge was right up my alley. I had three friends cheer me on for said challenge. It's taken me a good 24-36 hours to recover from the event, but now I'm ready to relive the fire. 

If I die in any way during this challenge, no one in the vicinity can be held responsible.

The spice was intense, but the temperature was over the top.

At this point, every orifice is leaking. I am also very aware that my body may soon reject anything I put in my face.

At 30 minutes, this is what I had left :/ This is my defeat.

I gave the effort, but didn't succeed. Choosing not to vomit, I didn't shove that last pile down my throat in the final seconds. Alas, I failed. My thoughts on the challenge? This was some intense spice! They rate the pizza at almost 2 million scoville unitsThe temperature was a bit cruel, fresh out of a 400 degree oven, it was hard to just hold in my hand, much less put in my mouth. But aside from that it was a very worthy challenge.

My pores turned a fiery red by the end of the 30 minutes and I sweated out hot sauce. Later that night I would rub sweat off my face and it burned my eyes and everything else it touched. My hands burned from the hot sauce for a solid 24 hours. And my stomach, well it wasn't as bad as I imagined it would be, but all yesterday I was wholly uncomfortable. Not a burning in my stomach, just an all consuming uncomfortable feeling. Finally after some blueberry beer last night, all uncomfortable feelings ceased. 

If you're ever in the Mid-Coast and enjoy a gluttonous challenge, well then, give me a call and we'll head over to Athens! 

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Life began with waking up and loving my mother's face

Today is my Mama's birthday. Happy birthday, Mom! I'd like to dedicate this entry to her... some of my own thoughts and reflections on my ever evolving relationship with my mom.



It's been interesting becoming an adult and learning how to reconcile the parent/child relationship. It's been confusing and liberating. As I've grown, I've come to recognize and appreciate that my Mom did everything in her power to be the best she could for us (her children). With the most pure of heart, she raised us in a safe home, full of all of the love she could exude. As a child, your mother is your world. All you want is to be with her; sit on her lap, cuddle in bed with her, talk her ear off, seek her approval in all that you do. As adolescences set in, so does much confusion. As a teen I believed no one understood me, especially my mother. Suddenly everything became a battle. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. No, mostly just the worst of times. I was a teenager the whole time, which, as we all know, means madness. And not the good kind of madness :)

A week after graduating high school, I moved away for the first time. I began to define myself outside of my parents. As a female, especially outside of my mother. Over the last ten years, I have traveled, I have lived and loved, but no matter where I've gone, I've always known I could come "home." My parents have always been a team, even when it wasn't easy. They've stood by each other while raising 4 biological children and countless other children, who may not have been blood, but were their children nonetheless. I honestly can't understand what it was like. I can try to imagine, but I've never been a parent, so the pain and joy I will never fully grasp. The one thing I have always known, no matter where I've been or what I've done, I can always come back to my parents. I know my mom is always missing, no matter the day or hour. Not everyone has that.

It hasn't been a perfect relationship. It's been a rocky road, as all mother-daughter relationships are. There have been months that have gone by when I haven't talked to my mom. It's said: "The mother-child relationship is paradoxical and, in a sense, tragic. It requires the most intense love on the mother's side, yet this very love must help the child grow away from the mother, and to become fully independent." -Erich Fromm

This couldn't be more true. But at 28, I am continually reminded how valuable my Mom is. We may not see eye to eye on many things. I may live a life that she never imagined I would, but I know she loves me endlessly. Even when it isn't easy for her. The older I get the more I see my mom as human and for that I am thankful. Because as Jill Churchill said "There is no way to be a perfect mother, and a million ways to be a good one." I know many people who don't have a mom who is present or that they could run home to if need be. They don't have a mom who loves their dad like a teenager after 40 years of being together. I know plenty of people whose mom put her desires before the happiness of her children and I am lucky to have never known that.

I am also lucky to have had parents who have taught me how to love. My mom's passion for children who need love has certainly been passed down to me. If it weren't for her choice to be a stay at home mom, as well as a foster mother, I would never have seen what genuine love and compassion can do for another human being. I watched love grow children in ways you can't ever describe in words. And that all happened because my mom made a choice to love. She didn't have to, many don't, but she did. For that I will forever be thankful.

So Mom, here's to you! Even if I don't always show it, I love you. I am forever thankful for all of the things you did for me, even before I was born. You made many hard decisions that resulted in a better life for me, and I will never forget that. Thank you for loving me, Angel, Sarah and Ben. Thank you for loving Shamarye, Jada, Bella and Luna. Thank you for loving Dad like it's going out of style. Thank you for loving every child who walked into our home. Thank you for pancakes, bacon and eggs every Sunday morning. Thank you for family dinners every night. Thank you for still always having a place for me to crash. Thank you for opening up your home at a moments notice to me and a half dozen friends even to this day. Thank you for missing me when I'm down the street, as well as when I'm 3000 miles away.

 THANK YOU! thank you! ThAnK yOu!  THANK YOU! thank you! ThAnK yOu!  THANK YOU! thank you! ThAnK yOu!  THANK YOU! thank you! ThAnK yOu!  THANK YOU! thank you! ThAnK yOu!  THANK YOU! thank you! ThAnK yOu!  THANK YOU! thank you! ThAnK yOu!  THANK YOU! thank you! ThAnK yOu!  THANK YOU! thank you! ThAnK yOu!  THANK YOU! thank you! ThAnK yOu!  THANK YOU! thank you! ThAnK yOu!  THANK YOU! thank you! ThAnK yOu!  THANK YOU! thank you! ThAnK yOu!  THANK YOU! thank you! ThAnK yOu!  THANK YOU! thank you! ThAnK yOu!  THANK YOU! thank you! ThAnK yOu!  THANK YOU! thank you! ThAnK yOu!

Happy Birthday! You are a lovely lady and I am thankful you are the one I get to call Mom!

Monday, July 30, 2012

My heart will rise and fall with the tide.

But more wonderful than the lore of old man and the lore of books, is the lore of the ocean.
- H.P. Lovecraft


Have you ever sat at the beach and watched the tide rise, then sit long enough to watch it fall and even rise again? I've been doing that a lot lately. I love low tide. Yes, even the smell. I think it's an incredible wonder to see the water crash high at the top of the beach, pushing rocks and drift wood higher and higher, only to begin to recede once more- leaving the beach bare and vast.


Sunsets on the beach I've got a particular affinity for. Perhaps sunrises would speak to me as well, but the only time I want to watch a sunrise is when I haven't slept the night before. The sunset holds the day you've lived and slowly, though sometimes suddenly, everything is black, your day; gone. Nothing but the night sky and hopes for tomorrow.


I love looking up at the stars and the moon, while listening to waves crash on the beach. It makes me feel insignificant in the most awesome kind of way.


Though the sun sets every night, each time I watch one, I am amazed at the colors; how quickly they change and how brilliant they can be.

If beaches could tell tales, they wouldn't dare, for the tales of the beach are ones no words could ever convey. 



These nights. Oh, these nights won't last forever, but I will hold the memories in my pocket until I wear a hole in it. I will stuff my pockets full of these memories until they are bursting at the seams. 

When I'm old and grey, these are the moments I will recall and hold onto. They will forever linger in the back of my mind.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

The Greatest Life Sabbatical, ever!


I've been slacking on the updates! It's just been such a fantastic time here, that I haven't been willing to venture off to search out internet to update this! Alas, the time has arrived...

Rockland is truly amazing. The word amazing seems to be losing it's meaning as I have been using it at least a hundred times a day. Nonetheless, this place is magic! I have met some of the most genuine, kind and down to earth people this last week. It's been a whirlwind of kindness. Let's catch up!

Friday I made it a point to go out into town and meet people. And meet people I did! As I sauntered around town Friday evening, I stumbled upon Rockland's monthly Art Walk! It was fantastic wandering around alone, checking out local artists... as the sun set, I headed to a local watering hole and the evening unraveled from there. I met person after person who was just so excited to chat and get to know me, that it really blew my mind. Many phone numbers exchanged and multiple couches were offered to me as havens from the ticks! Most of the people who live in town think I'm just ridiculous for my crazy fear of ticks. However, all of them have been kind to understand my overly irrational fear.

Thursday was the last night I spent in the woods. Packed up my camp over the weekend and have been content to crash wherever anyone will allow.

So long fair woods, you served me well. I'll never forget your kindess... or your ticks!
Saturday afternoon I went down to the water, soaking up every ounce of sun I could, when I ran into ZACH! One of the many people I'd met the night before. He was wandering down the boardwalk, just as I was preparing to leave the boardwalk. Fate! We began walking together and in no time at all, I could tell Zach's friendship was going to bring me much happiness. He's a local soul, who has a great group of friends. They have all welcomed me with open arms, and happily allowed me to infiltrate their circle and lives. Due to these new friendships, I have been on the most excellent adventures!

My days consist of waking up, stepping outside to test just how hot it's going to be, then, usually a stroll around town just to set the tone for the day. Every day is stunning. Maine summers truly are something else. I'm taken aback by the beauty every single day.

Rockland Harbor as seen from a gazebo. My morning views are a variation of this, every day.

As it turns out, climbing things isn't just a passion mine, these Mainers I've encountered are climbing fools! My kind of people! I have climbed buildings, towers and mountains. Yesterday we went on the most majestic hike so far. 

Lake Megunticook, as seen from Maiden's Cliff. 

About 800 feet up from the lake, it makes for the most rewarding hike.

Taking in the sights with Zach and Ian.
Zach!

Maiden's Cliff, as seen from our sweet swimming spot! First we were up, then we were down!


Zach, Corwin and Ian.

So much more to share, but it's time to get back to these guys... don't want to miss a moment of adventure!


Thursday, July 5, 2012

It's official... I'm in Rockland!

Well, it's been an epic journey... to say the least. But 12 days after my departure from Seattle, I arrived in Rockland, Maine! I'm here! Currently sitting in a coffee shop, looking out over the harbor. It's full of sailboats and ferries coming to and from the islands. It's truly magic.

As the bus moved along Route 1, from Portland up to Rockland, the towns became more and more picturesque. I cried as we drove through Wiscasset- it is easily one of the most magical places I've seen to date. Finally, after two hours on the bus, I arrived in Rockland! Final destination, done and done.

I'm rather exhausted at the moment and have a ton of stuff to do before nightfall... but here's the quick gist of it all.

I've been staying in the woods. Night one, in a cabin w/o electricity and running water. It's magic. Night two, I stayed in a quintessential Maine beach cottage. Night three (tonight), I sleep in my tent, alone in the woods.  I have no internet (except when I pop into a coffee shop in town) and my phone service doesn't exist up here. So email, this blog and my google voice number are my only forms of communication... and those are few and far between, as I am literally living in the woods! 

This is Rockland Harbor in Penobscot Bay
Jacob's cabin in the woods. 

I've been wearing this since I left Seattle. Maine has reassured me that it's the only thing I need.

The first place I went when I arrived. Met the locals. More about that in another entry.

The outside of the cabin.

Jacob's garden, he so graciously allowed me to work in! 

More of the garden. So much is growing. Everything from his hands. It's amazing to eat meals you watch come directly out of the ground, planted and tended to by the person you're sharing the meal with... magical.

I'm glad to be away from the city. I'm glad to be surrounding myself with people who allow life to move at a slower pace. Who live to find happiness for themselves and those they care about. It's a different lifestyle here and I'm welcoming it with open arms. One day at a time. But now it's time to get some things done about town. Much love! More updates to come!

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Jesus never smoked cigarettes

“the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.” 

Cassie, Crystal and Corey, you are my mad ones. Thank you for spurring on my madness, every day. 

I find Jack Kerouac to be a kindred spirit. Not surprising. His words are like pollen and I a honey bee, buzzing about, drinking up every ounce that I can. Not everyone sees the world the way he did, but his words are my gospel. It eases my mind when I realize I too have nothing to offer except my own confusion

When I’m traveling- as in actually moving- I am listening to music. Depending on what city and my mood, the albums vary. However, the two albums that are on repeat (even at this moment) the majority of the time are Hey Marseilles’ To Travel and Trunks and Alison Krauss & Robert Plant’s Raising Sand. The magnificent strings, coupled with lyrics romanticizing travel and love have me smiling the whole way across this fair country. I don't know what I'd do without my giant headphones and Spotify.

On the way I will go, 
Where the days left to breathe
Are not gone, are still long
I am traveling on…