tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5815627235698171802024-02-19T00:06:30.767-08:00Journey to WildnessAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.comBlogger137125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581562723569817180.post-39548147134397722872013-03-21T11:57:00.001-07:002013-03-21T11:57:07.166-07:00Exciting Things Are Happening!I think I have scooped you all up by now, but I had to write one last post to make sure, because OH MY GOD YOU GUYS AMAZING STUFF IS HAPPENING IN MY LIFE!!<br />
<br />
I am writing a new book called <span style="font-size: large; font-weight: bold;">"Quit That Freaking Job Already!" </span>As part of my research, I have compiled a kick-ass list of articles and resources to inspire you to love your work more. I will only include these resources in the Journey to Wildness newsletter that goes out tomorrow - Friday, March 22nd.<br />
<br />
ALSO, my coaching business has taken off! I have a lovely client base with whom I meet weekly over skype. I am honored at how these folks have allowed me to be part of their transformations. Each beautiful soul is making exciting change in their lives; opening up to possibility where they thought there was none left. Want in?<br />
<br />
Tomorrow's newsletter will also include a coupon for 75% off my coaching services, and you can use it for you OR someone you love who could use a lil' support right now.<br />
<br />
Sign up <span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.journeytowildness.com/contact.html">HERE</a></span> to join the journey and stay with me! Let's fly into the light together!!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581562723569817180.post-50544751921633659982013-03-07T12:06:00.003-08:002013-03-07T12:06:31.424-08:00I Miss You!<br />
Have you signed up for the Journey to Wildness newsletter on my new site yet? The third edition will be going out tomorrow, and will include creative ideas for how to quit your job and still make money, my best travel tips for Kauai, and updates on my wild and crazy life. Don't miss out! Sign up today!<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.journeytowildness.com/contact.html">Sign up here</a></span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yxRbvbEyAjg/UTjzEGzLXEI/AAAAAAAADVA/mgyFt9eGVXM/s1600/IMG_3838.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yxRbvbEyAjg/UTjzEGzLXEI/AAAAAAAADVA/mgyFt9eGVXM/s320/IMG_3838.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My campsite along Anini Beach on Kauai</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581562723569817180.post-51813191576777637412013-02-21T16:59:00.002-08:002013-02-21T16:59:51.824-08:00Join the Journey! Don't get left behind!<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Have you signed up for the Journey to Wildness newsletter yet? The next one is going out tomorrow, and it includes ALL stuff that is not on the website - including all the mistakes I made when planning this Hawaii journey. Sign up now! It's free and you can leave at any time! </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;" /><a href="http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.journeytowildness.com%2Fcontact.html&h=_AQEKa3CG&s=1" rel="nofollow nofollow" style="background-color: white; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-decoration: initial;" target="_blank">http://www.journeytowildness.com/contact.html</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581562723569817180.post-2612451540018107702013-02-06T10:14:00.000-08:002013-02-06T10:14:07.750-08:00Have you signed up for the newsletter yet?Later today, I'll be sending out my first newsletter through my new site. It will include lots of juicy stuff that won't be found on the site itself. Make sure you all stay in the loop by signing up for FREE now!<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.journeytowildness.com/contact.html" rel="nofollow nofollow" style="background-color: white; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; text-decoration: initial;" target="_blank">http://www.journeytowildness.com/contact.html</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581562723569817180.post-34087537596275493132013-01-26T09:24:00.003-08:002013-01-26T09:24:46.682-08:00NEW POST ON THE NEW SITE!I've just published a new blog post on my new website: <a href="http://www.journeytowildness.com/1/post/2013/01/time-with-my-shadow-side-feeling-my-feelings-all-the-way-through.html">Time With My Shadow Side: Feeling My Feelings All the Way Through</a>.<br />
<br />
Make sure to transfer your readership and keep up with new posts by visiting the <a href="http://www.journeytowildness.com/index.html">site</a> and:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Signing up for the newsletter</li>
<li>"Liking" the <a href="http://www.facebook.com/JourneyToWildness">Facebook page</a></li>
<li>Following "JourneyToWild" on <a href="https://twitter.com/JourneyToWild">Twitter</a></li>
</ul>
<div>
Hope to see you there!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Much love,</div>
<div>
Melanie</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581562723569817180.post-83312182391543366502013-01-24T18:51:00.000-08:002013-01-24T19:45:20.649-08:00IT'S HERE!<span style="font-size: x-large;">MY NEW WEBSITE IS UP!!!</span><br />
<br />
Readers, I am counting on you to be my base of support for this new venture. A baby website doesn't usually generate much traffic but <i>this</i> blog has 89 official followers, and an average of 300+ pageviews a day. So if you all go over there within the next three days and do the super-simple-and-easy things listed below, our happy family will stay together, and my baby website will be a growing toddler in no time!<br />
<br />
As soon as you click on the link and head to the new site, please do three things:<br />
<br />
<ol>
<li>Browse around and ENJOY!!</li>
<li>Sign up for the email newsletter (it's only twice a month and will include stuff you won't find on the website).</li>
<li>"Like" the Journey to Wildness Facebook page and follow me on twitter (if you're on those sites). <span style="font-size: large;"> This will now be the only way for you to know when I put new posts up!</span> I will no longer be sending emails each time, like you have been used to here. I will only announce it on the Journey to Wildness Facebook page and Twitter account.</li>
</ol>
<div>
If you are really super-duper excited or feeling especially supportive today, you could even go the extra mile and do a fourth thing. You could recommend my page to three people you know.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Think about it - I bet you know at least three people at work, in your family, or in your social circles who would enjoy my writing and/or benefit from my Life Transformation Coaching services. It just takes a quick, "Hey my friend/niece/former co-worker/ex-girlfriend/this-amazing-blogger-I've-been-reading just launched her new business, Journey to Wildness. She's a great writer and life coach, and I thought you might enjoy being part of her new site." Or something more authentically in your own words. (God it's so awkward to promote yourself. . .)<br />
<br />
Ok ENOUGH YAPPING, MELANIE!<br />
<br />
Here it is: <a href="http://journeytowildness.com/"><span style="font-size: large;">journeytowildness.com</span></a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581562723569817180.post-12506942363886187102013-01-22T17:54:00.001-08:002013-01-22T19:28:04.562-08:00I Met One of My Heros! And I'm in the Paper!Last night, I went to see <a href="http://chrisguillebeau.com/">Chris Guillebau</a> - published writer, world traveler (he's almost finished with his mission to visit every country in the world), and self-described challenger of the status-quo. For the scads of people like me who are passionately pursuing self-employment, publishing, and a life of full-time travel, he is pretty much our god.<br />
<br />
My heart sped up as he entered the room before the talk began. I smoothed my shirt, sat up straight, and checked my bun for stray hairs that might need pinning. Did I look professional enough? Would he spot me and be able to tell how much potential I had? I felt silly, like he was a movie star or a blind date. For the role he had unknowingly played in my transformation over the past month, he was really so much more.<br />
<br />
I had just finished reading his most recent book, <a href="http://100startup.com/">The $100 Startup</a>, which lit a fire so powerful underneath me that two weeks ago, I hired a web designer and began spending upwards of ten hours a day on the work of officially beginning my new career instead of just talking about it.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3PcA6tZ7Hd4/UP84YZMoFgI/AAAAAAAADRE/EfqbHofe758/s1600/100+startup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-3PcA6tZ7Hd4/UP84YZMoFgI/AAAAAAAADRE/EfqbHofe758/s1600/100+startup.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Waiting anxiously for the talk to begin, I spotted my friend, Laina, whom I had invited to join me. She is in the process of starting her own business on holistic nutrition and had also recently finished his book. I waved her over, and we pushed through the crowd of a couple hundred people to take seats in the second row.<br />
<br />
As soon as we sat down, the woman in front of us turned around and said, "Hello. I'm from the Santa Cruz Sentinel. Could I ask you two a few questions?"<br />
<br />
"Yes!" I nearly shouted at her. "Yes please do and I'll tell you my blog and you can put it in the paper! Will we be in the paper? That would be great!"<br />
<br />
She chuckled at me. "Yes, probably. Why did you come tonight?"<br />
<br />
"Because Chris's book has taught me that anyone can start their own business and live the life of their dreams. I left my previous career in educational administration last June. Since then, I've been traveling the country, writing about it, and working up the guts to actually step into this new, self-employed career possibility."<br />
<br />
"And what possibility is that?" She asked with one eye on me and one eye on the ipad upon which she was furiously typing notes.<br />
<br />
"Well," I took a deep breath in and sat up straight, on the edge of my chair, "I am a professional writer and an online Life Transformation Coach. I work for myself in a career that I believe really helps people, and I can travel anywhere I want while I do it."<br />
<br />
That was the first time I had spoken it out loud, to another person, in the present, as though it already exists. It was thrilling. The vibrancy of it shot down my arms and legs and sent heat into my face.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QreiLAoOjr8/UP8z--XWMQI/AAAAAAAADP0/lIxC_BEwoOk/s1600/IMG_3161.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QreiLAoOjr8/UP8z--XWMQI/AAAAAAAADP0/lIxC_BEwoOk/s320/IMG_3161.jpg" width="217" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px;">Chris being inspiring last night in downtown Santa Cruz</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Chris spoke of two pervasive narratives in our culture: the "Times are Hard" story, and the story of "Settling." One speaks of the poor economy, high unemployment rate, and rising gas prices with its head hung low. The other shrugs its shoulders and speaks of plugging along, doing the best you can with the job that pays the bills because well, that's just what you do and don't ask questions.<br />
<br />
Then he said, "I propose a third narrative. It's called <b>Creative Self-Employment</b>." He went on to give several of the examples in his book (collected from over 1500 interviews conducted over three years) of regular people, without business degrees, doing work they love as their own boss.<br />
<br />
I looked around the room and could feel the buzzing, collective energy. I was in a place of people living in the third narrative. This was a place full of hope, inspiration, and possibility. This was the right place for me.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.santacruzsentinel.com/localnews/ci_22422352/chris-guillebeau-author-100-startup-dishes-advice-175">You can read the newspaper article here.</a><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvLK1IIbfvIBjE5K-TsVsqtezAGZLkADdxIl3HQLZMAfJFaJh5HiUm12Ua2PSHWz2hwbI2O-D2aDOWfnkj4mQsZba-zsqmtX1aeHIC6tJKhsscoRw7PIWzqAAaL0PZxTe3pjLJhnUKMio/s1600/SCsentinel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvLK1IIbfvIBjE5K-TsVsqtezAGZLkADdxIl3HQLZMAfJFaJh5HiUm12Ua2PSHWz2hwbI2O-D2aDOWfnkj4mQsZba-zsqmtX1aeHIC6tJKhsscoRw7PIWzqAAaL0PZxTe3pjLJhnUKMio/s320/SCsentinel.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The photo of Laina and me, shot by the Sentinal's photographer. <br />
It appears in the paper with the article.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I raised my hand to comment at one point in his talk, and then again to ask a question during the Q&A portion. Chris learned a bit about my life each time (my ulterior motive, obviously). The third time we interacted was when he signed my book after the talk ended. He thanked me for my previous questions, and asked a bit more into my journey and my startup business. I'm pretty sure we're BFF now.<br />
<br />
At the after-party at the bar next door, I met several more inspiring people. Candy is a traveling nurse. Josh is a divinity school graduate building his business as a marriage and family counselor. Katherine wants to rebuild Haiti's coffee economy by roasting and selling Haitian beans to American coffee shops. Eric is building a business making home deliveries of his craft-brewed beer. Dave installs solar panels on mobile homes. We shared drinks, laughs, business cards, and a game of jenga.<br />
<br />
When I finally arrived home, feeling the best kind of exhausted, I realized that I never looked at what Chris wrote when he signed my book. I opened it to see:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXH3QC4-44E38QkmVPGiW_295_K_10jNjnoY3NBtVjuNduf7nGN5b0GDw8dxOGPp5aqvysUPCusjI4u-opquSIHAzEvNUUh6-Ts0JgEjofz0reQvwXxeMRVUS24w3l9SWO0TiV3P5upHw/s1600/IMG_3167.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXH3QC4-44E38QkmVPGiW_295_K_10jNjnoY3NBtVjuNduf7nGN5b0GDw8dxOGPp5aqvysUPCusjI4u-opquSIHAzEvNUUh6-Ts0JgEjofz0reQvwXxeMRVUS24w3l9SWO0TiV3P5upHw/s320/IMG_3167.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Melanie, you inspire me. - Chris"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
To show you and myself that I'm serious, you will not hear from me again on this blog until it is to give you the link to my new, published, ready-to-be-joined website. It is my deep hope that every one of you will come along with me on this next step of my Journey to Wildness.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(Special thanks to my friend, David Crisis, who bought <i>The $100 Startup</i> for me as a gift in mutual entrepreneurship.)</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581562723569817180.post-8590846125179046342013-01-18T11:23:00.001-08:002013-01-18T11:23:10.298-08:00Strong Woman Campaign FeatureToday you can find me on one of my favorite blogger's sites, "The Fur Files." Mandy is a blogger who shares her sense of humor about her kids, cats, and life as a strong woman on her daily blog. I've been a reader for a few months now, and have especially enjoyed her Friday series called, "Where My Ladyz At?" which is part of her Strong Woman Campaign.<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Today, the strong woman du jour is me! Check it out:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<a href="http://thefurfiles.com/2013/01/18/where-my-ladyz-at-strong-women-campaign-melanie-cobb/">http://thefurfiles.com/2013/01/18/where-my-ladyz-at-strong-women-campaign-melanie-cobb/</a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581562723569817180.post-1039252569975910232013-01-17T11:50:00.000-08:002013-01-17T11:50:01.801-08:00New Website is Almost Here!!I have not been posting as often lately because all of my creative energies are going towards developing my BRAND NEW WEBSITE AND BLOG!<br />
<br />
I've hired a web developer who specializes in working with travel bloggers. I've been feeding him content and he's been making it all look purdy for me. He is also pushing me to think about branding myself. What do I actually offer the world? What can people count on when they come to my site? It's been a much more soul-searching process than I initially bargained for, and I'm so glad I took it on!<br />
<br />
I'm buzzing with excitement to finally show it to you and unleash my powers on the world! Mwahahahahahaha!<br />
<br />
I hope that you will all follow me over to the new site and join my mailing list there so we can stay one, big happy family. I'll make it super clear on how you can do that once it's time.<br />
<br />
Stay tuned. . .Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581562723569817180.post-57731830836563502782013-01-15T17:35:00.001-08:002013-01-15T17:35:17.347-08:00Why I Am Not Currently Homeless<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
"Where have you been <i>staying</i>?" is a question many confused friends and readers have asked me lately. Let me tell you. It's a great story that may even surpass all other stories of kindness you have read about on this blog.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
In late November, I landed in Santa Cruz, California, because of spontaneously deciding to take a travel friend <a href="http://journeytowildness.blogspot.com/2012/11/did-i-say-new-mexico-oh-actually-i.html">from Taos, New Mexico to Oakland, California</a>. Once here, my car broke down, I ran out of money, and I had no real ideas about where to go next. All excellent reasons for me not to go anywhere.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
While I waited for my car to be fixed and began looking for jobs, I hurriedly patched together a network of free places to sleep. I <a href="http://journeytowildness.blogspot.com/2012/11/abundance.html">housesat</a> in a mansion, crashed in a new friend's <a href="http://journeytowildness.blogspot.com/2012/11/pulling-cosmic-threads.html">mountain cabin</a>, and then found Evan and Laina through couchsurfing.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uZSUGQCxWZk/UPX5rfu2cHI/AAAAAAAADOI/1sPw4FvpVoc/s1600/IMG_2671.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-uZSUGQCxWZk/UPX5rfu2cHI/AAAAAAAADOI/1sPw4FvpVoc/s320/IMG_2671.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Evan and Laina - the loving couple and my new friends</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
One night during my week-long stay on Evan and Laina's couch, they invited me over to Evan's mom and step-dad's house next door to make limoncello.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x3I4Y_401cg/UPX6N8oXjjI/AAAAAAAADOQ/4iWf38I55AE/s1600/IMG_2676.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x3I4Y_401cg/UPX6N8oXjjI/AAAAAAAADOQ/4iWf38I55AE/s320/IMG_2676.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Making limoncello - a traditional, Italian, after-dinner liquor</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
While at Heidi and Mike's warm home, I discovered that they are also couch surfing hosts, with their own profile on couchsurfing.org and a spare guest room. Hmmmmm. . .<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Still without the funds to afford my own apartment (and unsure if that's what I even wanted), constantly looking for new hosts each week was taking more time and energy than it was worth. Not to mention all the packing and re-packing of my things, and then trying to keep my pile of stuff tidy in the corner of someone's living room.<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I took a bold step and asked Heidi and Mike if I might be able to stay with them for the remaining two weeks in December. They immediately agreed, and I gratefully moved my things in to <i>my own room</i>.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YcvUYrRUN9Y/UPXNwyDhqmI/AAAAAAAADMg/bfEqS2_5grs/s1600/IMG_3087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YcvUYrRUN9Y/UPXNwyDhqmI/AAAAAAAADMg/bfEqS2_5grs/s320/IMG_3087.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This shot of their entryway perfectly displays the palpable love in this house</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div>
Heidi is the picture of strength, grace, and wisdom. She runs her own daycare in their home, including making fresh, healthy meals for the children each day. My favorite part about her? She is on her<i> THIRD MARRIAGE, </i>and it's a beautiful one. She and Mike have been married for 15 years and are still as in love as star-struck high school kids. Happy third marriages are possible! Yay!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjxvHC1MivIK6AFjt0r1Y_oAYE3jFSBdE2VzpRXxu9Jw6H11e2uGz_VcPSlzwSEKxGui5dzFaRsbd_37eP5Q8rkhvktJKNQ4AwT8Wse-7PE_ak_vx55Hhd746MVE6KWqfrF3ie4AXcoIE/s1600/IMG_2749.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjxvHC1MivIK6AFjt0r1Y_oAYE3jFSBdE2VzpRXxu9Jw6H11e2uGz_VcPSlzwSEKxGui5dzFaRsbd_37eP5Q8rkhvktJKNQ4AwT8Wse-7PE_ak_vx55Hhd746MVE6KWqfrF3ie4AXcoIE/s320/IMG_2749.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heidi firing her Creme Brûlée during a dinner party one night</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Mike owns his own construction business. He also umpires for the local Little League. In fact, he is the head umpire for all of Santa Cruz county, which means he organizes the schedule and orders the gear for all of the other umpires - an entirely voluntary effort. In his spare time, he brews his own beer and plays poker with the boys each week. He is a kind and benevolent soul.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pdeC-sTzKRU/UPXNdcX4EfI/AAAAAAAADMQ/6liDKX6EqF0/s1600/IMG_2767.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pdeC-sTzKRU/UPXNdcX4EfI/AAAAAAAADMQ/6liDKX6EqF0/s320/IMG_2767.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mike as Santa for the kids in his family on Christmas Eve</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9oGTa8udkZsfrG1K_FadzQkK70F6_EtR1zlmgDmGuXdc_VfI6W4-b_YsAH5w9w7i5-3oIWWbntfsCuanMOiQ2mPcP-eUrTQZnhBUMzTALgy_M5ik973PgYpXJ4i0NaUtVG5JJ2l1HtQs/s1600/IMG_3135.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9oGTa8udkZsfrG1K_FadzQkK70F6_EtR1zlmgDmGuXdc_VfI6W4-b_YsAH5w9w7i5-3oIWWbntfsCuanMOiQ2mPcP-eUrTQZnhBUMzTALgy_M5ik973PgYpXJ4i0NaUtVG5JJ2l1HtQs/s320/IMG_3135.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brewing day in the backyard</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div>
Staying here has been a blessing beyond even my ability to put into words. The practicalities of a warm bed, shower, and full-stocked kitchen are only the surface of the gifts I've received here. Heidi and Mike have become like surrogate parents to me, often listening to my daily stories and helping me think through my next steps in life.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Sometimes I walk into the kitchen to Mike saying, "We left you a bowl of homemade clam chowder on the stove," or Heidi saying, "I made you an extra waffle for breakfast." One night, I came home from work to a huge dinner party of their friends from France. I was immediately given a plate of lamb shank, au gratin potatoes, and brussels sprouts. I ate with a smile while I watched their clown-friend teach one of the children how to juggle with clementines, and I felt warm all over.</div>
<div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipZXUfrepkKCj_8XGHTBkn4b7cpK2peqm2j-kt3fBtErfkTOJ0m6UA9YfT-EXgiWq9tJ_mWjVt1wVF1ASRifaSVZFHMy_iMxRx1l_jTSNPDD6M9rGRZ804sRCwtMM0n1flZXHE8sfpaUU/s1600/IMG_2742.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipZXUfrepkKCj_8XGHTBkn4b7cpK2peqm2j-kt3fBtErfkTOJ0m6UA9YfT-EXgiWq9tJ_mWjVt1wVF1ASRifaSVZFHMy_iMxRx1l_jTSNPDD6M9rGRZ804sRCwtMM0n1flZXHE8sfpaUU/s320/IMG_2742.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After dinner juggling lesson</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
On Christmas morning, there was a stocking filled and hanging by the fireplace for me. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Towards the end of December, Heidi says to me, "You know, if you can't find a place by January, you're more than welcome to stay here through the month." So stay I did. They have refused to accept any money from me. This is my final week in their home. Next week, I will move on to another housesitting gig, and then, quite possibly, my own apartment.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Thank you, Heidi and Mike. Thank you for showing me, once again, that the world is a good and generous place to be. People like you give me hope for our interconnected lives. You have blessed me beyond what I ever could have expected, and I intend to pay every bit of it forward, in your name.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PfZ2kI4OdrY/UPXN7uzLoPI/AAAAAAAADMw/XYZcE8adRVE/s1600/IMG_3109.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PfZ2kI4OdrY/UPXN7uzLoPI/AAAAAAAADMw/XYZcE8adRVE/s320/IMG_3109.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Supporting me at the karaoke contest last weekend</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581562723569817180.post-1803135808044025752013-01-13T22:10:00.002-08:002013-01-13T22:25:06.155-08:00Sick Karaoke<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
After three days sick in bed, the night of the karaoke contest arrived. My voice was not at its best. The evil cold/flu monster had stolen my full range, so I called last minute and changed my song from Dixie Chicks to Etta James. At least I could try and take advantage of the jazzy scratch in my throat, right?</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
I really wasn't up to doing this, but $300 was at stake for the winner!! That's enough to fly to Hawaii! That's enough to buy groceries for a month! That's enough to get divorced! </div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
My adopted family came to support me (the amazing couch surfing hosts with whom I've been staying for a month), which was really the most fun part for me. We all had a blast together.</div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBENzJ1E2K-VkMJlnrqkGz5AKL5JSDwB6VMUzYD9aX8gsw8l3iAEnsN3XlJp-0ul_UFuRKmwuybqMUqk9bbG1UFn9spTECN1gp8HaklzaDlmVzM3sEdBeQc6gT8e6k5Nnl_VCa1Js8PCA/s1600/IMG_3109.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBENzJ1E2K-VkMJlnrqkGz5AKL5JSDwB6VMUzYD9aX8gsw8l3iAEnsN3XlJp-0ul_UFuRKmwuybqMUqk9bbG1UFn9spTECN1gp8HaklzaDlmVzM3sEdBeQc6gT8e6k5Nnl_VCa1Js8PCA/s320/IMG_3109.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
</td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
My California parents</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qeMtuNtnQZg/UPOT5qi8mBI/AAAAAAAADJE/Qm7vuXyx7JI/s1600/IMG_3107.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qeMtuNtnQZg/UPOT5qi8mBI/AAAAAAAADJE/Qm7vuXyx7JI/s320/IMG_3107.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
</div>
</td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
The rest of the fam. (Sorry for crappy lighting.)</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
I downed a hot lemon tea with a shot of whiskey before I got on stage. I hadn't practiced at all - not that day, not that week. I knew I probably only had one run of the song in me before my voice gave out altogether, and I wanted to save it for the only time it mattered. But I had sung this song plenty of times before. I'd be fine, right??</div>
</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
Well - there's really no way to say this humbly. I killed it. I owned that song like it was my frickin-frackin job. You betta' believe I made it to the finals on February 9th.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/Hzo6ysav29Q?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I should totally get bonus points for standing up for that long at a time while my brain was pounding against the inside of my skull and I was about to break out into a coughing fit with every inhale. They don't teach you that kind of stage presence in acting school.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Don't worry - I paid for it the next day. I'm back in bed and even worse off than before. TOTALLY WORTH IT.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581562723569817180.post-16003951256428557352013-01-11T20:10:00.002-08:002013-01-11T21:17:24.206-08:00Help Please! Short SurveyHello my beautiful readers! I am excited to say that I am going professional! I have hired a web designer to make Journey to Wildness its own, brand-spaking new site with a better blog and an option to hire me as a life coach!<br />
<br />
As the designer and I make decisions about how to market my gifts and attract those who might best benefit, I could really use your help. Please take a few minutes to complete this short, 5-question survey. Your anonymous, honest answers will be a great help to me as I seek to reduce suffering and create greater possibility for others! (Also, you don't even have to answer all five questions - only the ones you have answers for.)<br />
<br />
Thank you deeply for your support over the past year and a half since I've started this site, and thank you for your time now as I take it to the next step.<br />
<br />
In grateful partnership,<br />
Melanie<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.surveymonkey.com/s/67HW25D">Survey</a></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gl7nKKZxVYk/UPDxoHUNx-I/AAAAAAAADHs/MrHZONrCCh0/s1600/camp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-gl7nKKZxVYk/UPDxoHUNx-I/AAAAAAAADHs/MrHZONrCCh0/s1600/camp.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">To thank you for your time,<br />here is an embarrassing throwback photo<br />of me at summer camp in 4th grade</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /><br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581562723569817180.post-68270820949682009412013-01-10T12:39:00.001-08:002013-01-11T14:33:18.770-08:00Snotty-Headed ThoughtsI'm super sick. I'm snotty and achey and my <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>head is floating</b></span> somewhere out by Venus. But I can't let my readers down by going too long without a post. So this is going to be the most rambly ridiculousness you may have ever read on this blog. There is no common thread. Don't try to find one.<br />
<br />
Besides being sick, my <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">poison oak</span></b> is spreading. It began as two tiny dots on my left wrist when I returned home from Big Sur, and now it's on both wrists and forearms, and has somehow mysteriously managed to find its way to my left buttcheek. The biggest splotch is down there, starting as a few red bumps on the hip area and descending into a full-on globular alien-like mass. You're welcome for that visual.<br />
<br />
Two days ago, I stupidly grabbed a cookie sheet that had just come out of the oven with my right hand. I clamped right down on that sucker and picked it all the way up off of the counter, then <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">shrieked</span></b> and dropped it crashing onto the floor. So the skin on all of the fingertips on my right hand is peeling off now in scaly bits.<br />
<br />
In short, I'm the <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">sexiest </span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>mutha </b></span>you've ever seen. I can't keep the boys away with my oozing poison sores, flaking skin, and snotty, snotty head. Mmmmmm.<br />
<br />
In other news, I'm signed up to perform in a karaoke contest this Saturday. (I hope I'm better by then! If not, I'm prepared to break all of my natural, homeopathic philosophies and stuff dayquil and afrin in every orifice in my body until I'm fake-better for just long enough to sing.) If I'm chosen from the ten singers in this round, I'll join the other finalists for one more night of competition on February 9th. First prize is $300, second is $200, and first is $100. Snot or no snot, <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">that money is mine</span></b>, biatch.<br />
<br />
Let's see, what else. . . oh! I am making new friends left and right. It seems everyone has returned from their holiday family shin-digs and is actually available to hang out now. (Note to self: if possible, <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">do not travel over the holidays</span></b> again. Remember how much it sucks.)<br />
<br />
So yeah, I went to a game night with some folks I met through Couchsurfing. They were all wicked smart and we played an in-depth role-playing board game that took place in a haunted house. It was awesome to release my <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>inner game nerd</b></span> for the night. I'm usually the last person at a game night with stamina to play (I could literally play board games until the sun comes up), but this time, everyone else hung right in there with me. They meet a couple times a month. Oh yeah, baby. I'm in.<br />
<br />
Also, remember the room in the apartment that I didn't get because I was "too positive and well-adjusted?" Well one of the guys who lives there is from PA and I totally clicked with him and his girlfriend (who is an acupuncturist) that night. I was their first choice to get the room. So anyhooooo, he - Erik is his name - has been my <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">angel</span></b> this week. Not only did he invite me over to play music with him (which I did and it was awesome), he hooked me up with a possible apartment through his girlfriend (it's one block from the beach - you can see the ocean from the front yard), and he's also trying to help me find a better-paying job. Holla!<br />
<br />
So I'm still thinking about hopping off to southeast Asia - or more likely, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; font-weight: bold;">Hawaii </span><span class="Apple-style-span">(plane tickets are only $300 and I can work-trade somewhere to stay and eat for freeeeee)</span> - just for the last three weeks in February before I start paying rent here and having a life and all that. Maybe. Possibly. Or maybe not. I'm super sure that I'm on the fence about it.<br />
<br />
And perhaps finally (thank God this wonkified blog post is about to be over, right?), I've been putting a lot of energy into developing myself as a <b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">one-woman small business</span></b>. With part of the <a href="http://journeytowildness.blogspot.com/2012/12/blessings-and-gratitude-wow.html">amazing gift</a> I received from a friend, I've hired someone to make a new website for me. Also, I'm reading <u>The $100 Start-Up</u>, which was another gift from a friend, and it's totally psyching me up to think I can do this. I can be a full-time writer and life coach and be my own boss and be location-independent and make lots of beautiful money.<br />
<br />
The end.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581562723569817180.post-47459891184418441612013-01-07T17:39:00.001-08:002013-01-07T17:41:25.322-08:00Oops. A Funny Story.To counter the intensity and unusual amount of negativity in the <a href="http://journeytowildness.blogspot.com/2013/01/to-my-heckler.html">last post</a> and its subsequent comments, I have a funny story for you.<br />
<br />
Last week, I took a spontaneous, two-day trip to <a href="http://journeytowildness.blogspot.com/2013/01/outsmarting-loneliness-in-big-sur.html">Big Sur</a> to ring in the new year with a beautiful bang. After an amazing day of hiking and beach combing, I began to search for a place to sleep in my station wagon for the night, off of Route 1. I pulled in to a campground, took one look at the fee ($22!) and pulled right back out.<br />
<br />
Just down the road, there was another small turn-off that led through an open gate, down a grassy road, and to a perfectly secluded spot. I could vaguely see the outline of a building behind the tall grasses in which I was parked, but no one seemed to be around. I slid quietly in and began setting up my bed and cooking my dinner.<br />
<br />
I ate my rehydrated potatoes with broccoli & cheese while sitting on the hood of my car, watching the stars come out one by one. Then I brushed my teeth and cozied in to my sleeping bag in the car to read. I fell asleep to the sound of the crashing waves just over the road behind me.<br />
<br />
The next morning, I awoke to see that the building was a school. I had parked in some grasses behind their school garden. It was January 2nd, so school was still not back in session. I went through my usual camping morning routine - ate breakfast, drank coffee, got dressed, brushed my teeth, dug a poop hole, etc. Then I threw everything into the back of the station wagon and excitedly began to drive back to Route 1 for my second day of adventures.<br />
<br />
When I got back to the beginning of the road, I stopped my car abruptly. The gate was locked. I was locked in. And no one would be coming to the school today.<br />
<br />
Crap.<br />
<br />
I turned off the car and paced the length of the property, searching for any possible alternate path out. Most of the perimeter was blocked either by a stone wall, a huge tree trunk, or a bank way too steep to drive over. They had done a good job ensuring that the gate was the only way in and out.<br />
<br />
My best bet was a still-quite-steep slope down through a daffodil patch.<br />
<br />
I got back into the car and drove slowly through the grassy yard. At the edge of the bank, I took a deep breath, prayed to any gods that might be listening to please keep my car from flipping over, and drove straight down through the daffodils (don't worry, I hate myself for it).<br />
<br />
Just when I was about to put my tires onto Route 1 and be home free, a car came around the corner. It was the sheriff. He snapped his head around to look at the girl driving through the garden bank out of the closed school and stopped his car just up the road.<br />
<br />
Double crap.<br />
<br />
I pulled on to the road and behind his car. I figured I'd just save us all the drama of a chase. I'd accept my fate straight away. He turned his car around and pulled up next to me so his driver's window was next to mine. We both rolled down our windows.<br />
<br />
"What was that about?" he asked incredulously.<br />
<br />
"I'm so embarrassed." I put my face into my hands.<br />
<br />
"What were you doing in the school? And why were you driving over the flower bank?"<br />
<br />
"I slept in my car on the edge of their property last night because I needed a free, safe place to park. The gate was open when I got there, but someone must have locked it during the night."<br />
<br />
He tried to hide his chuckle from me by putting his closed fist over his lips. It didn't work.<br />
<br />
"I'm sorry," I said. "I feel terrible for putting tire marks in that flower bed. I didn't mean any harm by camping there. I just can't afford a $22 fee at the campground."<br />
<br />
"You know," he said with a grin, "you can camp for free all along the forest road just a half a mile north."<br />
<br />
"No," I replied flatly. "I didn't know that. Oops."<br />
<br />
He laughed without trying to hide it now. "Well I can't even give you a ticket for anything. You didn't technically do anything illegal - "<br />
<br />
"Just rude," I interrupted. He nodded with a smile.<br />
<br />
"I'm just glad you weren't robbing the school."<br />
<br />
"No!"<br />
<br />
"Well just keep the free camping in mind next time you're in Big Sur. And enjoy the rest of your trip." And he drove off, still laughing at me.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-83ncNXeBXXc/UOt5M5Qen_I/AAAAAAAADGU/SIZCA89KbQw/s1600/daffodils.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-83ncNXeBXXc/UOt5M5Qen_I/AAAAAAAADGU/SIZCA89KbQw/s1600/daffodils.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">(freefoto.com)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581562723569817180.post-12801459267924483742013-01-05T07:50:00.000-08:002013-01-05T07:54:56.023-08:00To My Heckler:<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I received this comment on a recent post:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">"Having your mommy and daddy and friends give you money is not the same as saving money. Running from things as soon as they get hard is not the same as being brave or adventurous."</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"> - Anonymous</span></b><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">As a reflex, I deleted it instead of allowing it to be published publicly on the blog. Then I re-thought my decision. The Quakers say that there is that of god in everyone, so we should listen to all perspectives with an open mind, even the ones that aren't initially pleasant to our ears.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Anonymous, are you reading, beloved? This one's for you, dear. I genuinely welcome your perspective. There is room for you in my world. I ask that you openly share your identity, and that before you respond, you read and consider the below clarifications. Let's be sure we're dealing with factual information first.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><u>Money</u></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Yes, saving earnings and receiving gifts are two different ways of acquiring money. You are correct about that. Do you have a story that one is better than the other?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">As for me on this trip (which is what I assume you're referring to), I got from Maryland to California over three months entirely on my own savings. I did not go into debt even one cent. I feel pretty good about that. I have also had many welcoming, free places to stay through couch surfing, and many meals cooked for me, without which, I could not have made it so far. To all my angels along the way, I am humbled and grateful. It is my assessment that I have done no wrong in accepting those kindnesses. I hope that if you travel, the same would be extended to you.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">When I arrived in Santa Cruz, I got two jobs and saved a couple more thousand dollars on my "own" (but really, nothing is done on our own). I also received two unrequested gifts of cash from friends, and a small Christmas gift of cash from my 87 year-old grandmother and my parents. I suppose to be completely authentic, I could give those gifts of cash back. Is that what you are suggesting I do, Anonymous? Is that what you do with gifts you receive?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><u>"Mommy and Daddy"</u></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">My father is a dedicated, blue-collar worker who has put in a minimum of 40 hours a week my entire life at the same job, at times taking on second and third jobs at Walmart or the local bowling alley to make ends meet for our family. He still, at age 63, is working overtime and cannot afford to retire, despite the arthritis that is creeping quickly into his hands and making his job quite painful.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">My mother is disabled and hasn't worked for my whole life. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I began working at age 14. I put myself through college and graduate school. I don't ask my parents for money because I know they can't give it. They give me a warm, loving place to come home to and gifts much more valuable than money. So this trip is certainly <i>not </i>being funded by mommy and daddy.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><u>Courage</u></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><u><br /></u></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">As for running from things when they get hard, that's a great question - no sarcasm. It is an accusation that many folks who choose to live in one place make against many folks who choose to be nomadic. Every traveler I've met has been accused of the same thing at some point. I've asked myself numerous times along my various journeys if I am, in fact, running <i>from</i> something rather than<i> to</i> greater possibility. I don't think I ever come up with a good answer. More accurately, I think the answer changes by the day.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I suppose I'm doing the best I can with the situations that present themselves to me. If there's one thing I know for sure, it's that I don't always do it "right." I want to be courageous, but sometimes I'm scared. I want to commit to things, but sometimes I run.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">But then sometimes, I DO do it "right." Sometimes I see both the easy way out and the hard way through and I stare my fear right in the face and jump in. I suppose everyone has times of each. I assume you do as well, Anonymous, since you're wrapped in the same human skin as me. Would you like to share a story with us of a time when you felt courageous? My readers and I would welcome the chance to applaud you. Courage comes in many forms.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><u>More Thoughts?</u></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Most importantly, what is your name, Anonymous? Where can we find <i>your</i> blog? What wisdom to you have to share with my readers and I about saving money and being brave?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Readers, do you have additional thoughts for our anonymous commenter?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x6NRB3V_2qs/UOhLhDChV2I/AAAAAAAADE4/sTlrJT7lduA/s1600/IMG_2961.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-x6NRB3V_2qs/UOhLhDChV2I/AAAAAAAADE4/sTlrJT7lduA/s320/IMG_2961.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif;">"We travel not to escape life, but for life not to escape us."</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581562723569817180.post-25580855417878762592013-01-03T20:47:00.001-08:002013-01-03T20:47:25.221-08:00Outsmarting Loneliness in Big Sur<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>Part One, in which I decide to take a spontaneous adventure</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
About 10pm on New Year's Eve, I realized three things:<br />
<br />
<ol>
<li>I had the next two days in a row off from the coffee shop.</li>
<li>The weather was going to be sunny and in the 60's.</li>
<li>I needed to get out of my lonely, sad headspace and start this year with some beauty.</li>
</ol>
<div>
Time to check out Big Sur.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I wished that I could be going with another person, or several. My energy for solo adventuring is waning by the day. But if I had waited for someone else to come along on any one of my amazing adventures over the past five years, I never would have gone. So I put on my big girl pants, like I always do, and headed out alone. Again.</div>
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div>
The instant I hit the sight of the mountains jutting straight out of the ocean, I forgot about anything other than WOW.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rDmn1w6sopY/UOXP9iBdvQI/AAAAAAAAC5k/s7LmCz5gJeY/s1600/IMG_2863.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rDmn1w6sopY/UOXP9iBdvQI/AAAAAAAAC5k/s7LmCz5gJeY/s320/IMG_2863.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first stop along Rt. 1</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MVrfbnvjLrc/UOXQHKKzrYI/AAAAAAAAC5s/AtsYYfw-76Q/s1600/IMG_2865.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MVrfbnvjLrc/UOXQHKKzrYI/AAAAAAAAC5s/AtsYYfw-76Q/s320/IMG_2865.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcome to Big Sur</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Yet, that bastard, Loneliness, didn't take long to find me again. I soon discovered that the eight-mile bluff hike I had planned to take was inaccessible due to a washed out bridge at the beginning. No problem, I thought. I've waded across rivers before.<br />
<br />
I took my pants off, put on my water shoes, and used my pole to navigate to the middle of the river - at which point the water (which was now past my waist and getting my shirt wet) became a powerful current. I couldn't hold myself up and almost lost my pole. I gave up and turned around.<br />
<br />
I tried this three more times at three different points on the river with the same result each time. As I sat on the bank putting all of my clothes back on, an adorable frickin' couple arrived on the scene. With a bit of struggle, they crossed the river. Together. Holding on to each other for support.<br />
<br />
I held back tears as I laced my boots. <i>Screw this trail, </i>I thought. <i>I'll just find another one.</i><br />
<br />
Back in my car, fighting self-pity, I remembered my recent practice of feeling my feelings. Not being ashamed of them, covering them up, running from them, or judging myself for them. Just feeling them. So before I drove to the next state park in search of a new trail, I sent up a prayer.<br />
<br />
"Universe/god person, I'm feeling lonely. I notice that."<br />
<br />
"Ok, good job, Melanie," the universe responded.<br />
<br />
"Thanks. I'm going to go ahead and ask you that I please not have to be alone on this whole trip. It'd be great to meet some people. Could you arrange that?"<br />
<br />
"Sure thing."<br />
<br />
"Thanks. Oh - and one more thing that would make me feel better, " I added as an afterthought, "I'd like to see a whale."<br />
<br />
"Just one?" the universe asked with a wink.<br />
<br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Part Two, in which I hike through my loneliness</span></b><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b>
Ewoldsen trail is a five mile loop that wanders through the redwoods and up a mountain to a lookout over the ocean. At the trailhead, I met a couple from Pennsylvania, with whom I hiked the whole thing.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s4jk-ysZD3w/UOXXYJxZ3ZI/AAAAAAAAC64/HvmS4sfuAJI/s1600/IMG_2871.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-s4jk-ysZD3w/UOXXYJxZ3ZI/AAAAAAAAC64/HvmS4sfuAJI/s320/IMG_2871.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ewoldsen Trail</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qbdLnqswIyk/UOXXuUKHvTI/AAAAAAAAC7A/cidr8VpiFBo/s1600/IMG_2901.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="182" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qbdLnqswIyk/UOXXuUKHvTI/AAAAAAAAC7A/cidr8VpiFBo/s320/IMG_2901.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from the top (I'm in the corner looking pensive)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
While we were eating lunch at the top, I spotted a tall spurt of white water out on the ocean, and then a smooth, dark body cresting the surface. "A WHALE!" I shouted. "Look! A whale!"<br /><br />
My hiking companions confirmed my discovery. Before we left the lookout, I had seen no fewer than <i>eleven</i> different whales.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPbrGQJ8bh6dY93I2rjPzSo6_1Pdn3XlI3MYVkQO3PRHPx0mV5XzzqzgUzPONlpy9BkzTrUxGYsdNc4ba_O9BtwIvhSululKfWPpIZSO195kO_1xpoA6Vn2-SbG3luAllHfGkAI2fHi-E/s1600/IMG_2910.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPbrGQJ8bh6dY93I2rjPzSo6_1Pdn3XlI3MYVkQO3PRHPx0mV5XzzqzgUzPONlpy9BkzTrUxGYsdNc4ba_O9BtwIvhSululKfWPpIZSO195kO_1xpoA6Vn2-SbG3luAllHfGkAI2fHi-E/s320/IMG_2910.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View on the way back down</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dh7lyq8aaPo/UOXYOttK8dI/AAAAAAAAC7Q/s6fw5Rv18Pc/s1600/IMG_2915.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dh7lyq8aaPo/UOXYOttK8dI/AAAAAAAAC7Q/s6fw5Rv18Pc/s320/IMG_2915.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My PA hiking buddies</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PNtii62pUVo/UOXYPqb2AlI/AAAAAAAAC7Y/f_R4cHRJybA/s1600/IMG_2935.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PNtii62pUVo/UOXYPqb2AlI/AAAAAAAAC7Y/f_R4cHRJybA/s320/IMG_2935.jpg" width="279" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loving the forest twilight</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<h3>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Part Three, in which I chill with seals, whales, and surfers</span></h3>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; font-weight: normal;">The next morning, I sent up another prayer. "Thanks for a great day yesterday, universe. Thanks for the whales, and the company on the hike."</span><br />
<br />"You're welcome."<br />
<div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Sorry to be picky, but, it's just that, well -"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"What? What would you like now?"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Maybe some company that's <i>not</i> a couple? You know how being with a couple sometimes makes being alone feel even more alone-y? Maybe I could meet a solo traveler today or something."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Ask and you shall receive."</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So after a morning of elephant seal-watching:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4j8RX3lzrDw/UOXcekvLubI/AAAAAAAAC8w/jCxA6yDgwRg/s1600/IMG_2985.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4j8RX3lzrDw/UOXcekvLubI/AAAAAAAAC8w/jCxA6yDgwRg/s320/IMG_2985.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Caption contest! Write your caption for this photo in the comments.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
trekking to the end of a peninsula for some meditation:<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CxDutqzjaEA/UOZXuCvfPwI/AAAAAAAAC-I/G7_CwhMbz6o/s1600/IMG_3018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CxDutqzjaEA/UOZXuCvfPwI/AAAAAAAAC-I/G7_CwhMbz6o/s320/IMG_3018.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">secluded path to the peninsula</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br />. . . and jade-hunting in a hidden cove:<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VGU2prb7tB4/UOZY6gC_HNI/AAAAAAAAC-k/q5-NWxGdaEI/s1600/IMG_3045.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VGU2prb7tB4/UOZY6gC_HNI/AAAAAAAAC-k/q5-NWxGdaEI/s320/IMG_3045.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The path down to the jade cove was so steep someone had set up rope rappels</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I decided to reward all my exercise with some relaxation on the breathtaking Sand Dollar Beach. When I parked my car, I noticed that in front me was a truck with <i>the first solo traveler I had seen!</i> Unfortunately, he was getting <i>in</i> to his truck, not coming out. We said mutual hellos and I went down to the beach alone.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Soon after, Mr. Solo Traveler walked by me on the beach and said, "Hi again. You haven't seen any eyeglasses lying around here have you?"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I helped him look for his glasses. When we found them, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a beer. "Want a beer?" he offered.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Mr. Solo Traveler - my answer to prayer - was also a surfer, a musician and a gymnast. We spent the rest of the day on the beach watching the surfers, singing songs, and doing silly antics as the sun slowly sank below the horizon.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TKszO8099jM/UOZadBqJF3I/AAAAAAAADB8/8xftT7fNw44/s1600/IMG_3057.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TKszO8099jM/UOZadBqJF3I/AAAAAAAADB8/8xftT7fNw44/s320/IMG_3057.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tuning up for some Paul Simon</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0OYdHlrP9QM9fNEnFtfttfWM0ojJ0qSwZkxXOaGc74NPJOO8O5ixoQ0sbliQ-G_aMBWFK_9QMurqpDsTzGHya9KyPZZFpXaDZhW1t-sDhh5zsjaz9JCltwMZKaO1Q4jkSe8LdLQgH9_A/s1600/IMG_3060.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0OYdHlrP9QM9fNEnFtfttfWM0ojJ0qSwZkxXOaGc74NPJOO8O5ixoQ0sbliQ-G_aMBWFK_9QMurqpDsTzGHya9KyPZZFpXaDZhW1t-sDhh5zsjaz9JCltwMZKaO1Q4jkSe8LdLQgH9_A/s320/IMG_3060.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mr. Solo Traveler doing a backflip</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU4Fq8O2uznbgKxnTQcrEofujOpbZJiplY5B9ym6VYKk0ybTluHlgAtqkdRtG6FQ5zxWKBYLnm7VZTwwzyC46Adw90TbT_EQT7KmjxcksOXT_9vvjFes_gvJpVfBWKu6FYeva2uAHUIZQ/s1600/IMG_3063.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU4Fq8O2uznbgKxnTQcrEofujOpbZJiplY5B9ym6VYKk0ybTluHlgAtqkdRtG6FQ5zxWKBYLnm7VZTwwzyC46Adw90TbT_EQT7KmjxcksOXT_9vvjFes_gvJpVfBWKu6FYeva2uAHUIZQ/s320/IMG_3063.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">. . . and a one-armed handstand</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ff2-0EWZG7w/UOZah9wNM5I/AAAAAAAADCU/q-YV0sMY9_E/s1600/IMG_3066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ff2-0EWZG7w/UOZah9wNM5I/AAAAAAAADCU/q-YV0sMY9_E/s320/IMG_3066.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And me preparing for my olympic-quality cartwheel</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
While overall, I'm still lonely and no amount of beautiful sights can take the place of another living, breathing, loving human - all three of my prayers were answered. And I spent the first two days of 2013 in one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen. For those things, I am grateful. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Oh, and the whales? By the end of my trip I had seen a total of 24.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Phas2wax9cI/UOZeN-LlM9I/AAAAAAAADDo/iYSj5VMKjXs/s1600/IMG_3074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Phas2wax9cI/UOZeN-LlM9I/AAAAAAAADDo/iYSj5VMKjXs/s320/IMG_3074.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Goodbye, Big Sur</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">p.s. Don't forget to enter your caption for the seal photo in the comments!</span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">p.p.s. If you're a blog stalker who reads without following, now's the time to come out of the closet! Please hit the blue, "Join this site" button on the righthand side and help out my budding writing career by giving me another follower. Thanks for visiting!</span><div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581562723569817180.post-4783709458468768802012-12-28T13:51:00.001-08:002012-12-28T14:07:18.607-08:00How The Sopranos Led Me to IndonesiaA lot of people ask me how I make decisions when I travel. These days, most of it is <a href="http://journeytowildness.blogspot.com/2012/11/pulling-cosmic-threads.html">following threads</a> and <a href="http://journeytowildness.blogspot.com/2012/12/daily-bread.html">relying on divine providence</a>. However, there is another important element. I am going to let you in on a secret.<br />
<br />
I have a personal travel agent/therapist in my head.<br />
<br />
She looks and talks like Dr. Melfi from The Sopranos. I go to her when I need help sorting out my travel life (and really, my life in general). She is gentle but firm, understanding but clear.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pwJDitZYz1g/UN4KAWKf2OI/AAAAAAAACxM/AUR4nAh9P9U/s1600/melfi+&+tony+soprano.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pwJDitZYz1g/UN4KAWKf2OI/AAAAAAAACxM/AUR4nAh9P9U/s1600/melfi+&+tony+soprano.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I like to think I'm an easier client than Tony Soprano.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">(photo: alignmap.com)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
A recent conversation I had with her went something like this. . .<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Dr. Melfi: Hello, Melanie. How are you?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Me: I'm alright, Dr. Melfi. Honestly I'm a bit confused again. I need your help.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
DM: What feels confusing to you?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Me: Well, when I first got to Santa Cruz, it seemed like this was where I was supposed to stay. Doors opened easily for me. I found a few free, short-term places to stay, I got a job at the coffee shop, I found a church. The first layer of "settling in" to a new place went smoothly.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
DM: And how are things going now?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Me: Sigh. Not as well. I'm still loving my job at the coffee shop, but it's not enough to pay rent here - which is a moot point anyway because none of the apartments I've looked at have come through. Also, it's been hard to make friends. People aren't calling me back. I was hoping I could join the choir at the church but even the choir director didn't call me back. I spend a lot of time alone. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
DM: So "settling down"in Santa Cruz doesn't seem to be flowing easily for you.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Me: No, it's not. This is too much effort. I'm anti-effort. I want to go where the flow is.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
DM: What <i>is</i> flowing?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Me: My writing. My blog has gained a lot of new readers, and I've been published in several places.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
DM: Great. Isn't that really what you want to do anyway? Write?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Me: Yes.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
DM: What else is flowing?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Me: Surprisingly, money. I've saved up way more than I would have expected in these six weeks - between the coffee shop, odd jobs, and generous gifts from friends and family.</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
DM: Melanie, why did you leave your job? Why did you quit your successful career and leave your friends and family? To work at a coffee shop and join a church choir? You could have done that in Maryland. What do you <i>want?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6EI5JJiT_L8/UN4T-qAv3BI/AAAAAAAACyY/a00dQpy20mE/s1600/melfi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6EI5JJiT_L8/UN4T-qAv3BI/AAAAAAAACyY/a00dQpy20mE/s1600/melfi.jpg" style="cursor: move;" /></a></div>
</td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
"Cut the crap, Melanie."</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">(photo: weblogs.baltimoresun.com)</span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</i></div>
<div>
Me: I want to travel and write. I know that.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
DM: Then why are you putting your energy into settling down if you want to travel? Why are you applying for jobs at Trader Joe's when you want to be a writer?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Me: Well I need to make enough money to live somewhere and eat!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
DM: There are cheaper places to put a roof over your head and food in your mouth while you write. Haven't you been talking about going to Asia for awhile now?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Me: Yes but I don't have the money.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
DM: Didn't you just say you've saved up more than you expected? Are you <i>sure</i> you don't have the money?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Me: (checks bank account and airfare, and does some calculations) Oh. Maybe I do. Maybe I do!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
DM: (smiles) Interesting.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Me: Rather than using most of what I've saved up on first month's rent and a security deposit, I could buy a plane ticket! But I don't have much money to travel with once I'm there.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
DM: So work while you're there. Teach English or something. You can live on $10 a day in southeast Asia, you know that. You won't need to work much to take care of your needs, and then you can explore and write with most of your time.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Me: Great! I'll find a school online and apply to teach English. When I'm accepted, I'll fly there and live for awhile.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
DM: (twists mouth in questioning disapproval)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Me: What?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
DM: How has committing to things you find online worked for you in the past? <br />
<br />
Me: (innocently) What do you mean?<br />
<br />
DM: The <a href="http://journeytowildness.blogspot.com/2012/11/did-i-say-new-mexico-oh-actually-i.html">hostel in Taos</a>? You thought it would be perfect place to spend a warm winter, but when you got there, it was 10 degrees and full of crazy, dirty men.<br />
<br />
Me: Right.<br />
<br />
DM: And what about the guys you dated from okCupid a few years ago? <br />
<br />
Me: Oh my god I can't believe you're bringing that up.<br />
<br />
DM: You thought the first one was soooo hot with his long dreads and fascinating career as an herbalist. But it didn't take long to find out that he was a full-time stoner who was wildly homophobic and wasn't paying rent.<br />
<br />
Me: Right, ok, I get it.<br />
<br />
DM: And second guy? What about the Greek one? (sitting forward in her seat now)<br />
<br />
Me: Yeah we don't need to talk about him.<br />
<br />
DM: He was a musician who said he wanted to travel with you, but then you found out he had no intentions of ever leaving his parents' house, and he was still in love with his bipolar, self-mutilating, abusive ex-fiance.<br />
<br />
Me: Ok ok! Enough! I get it. I should be using my intuition to live, not the internet. I shouldn't find some school online and get all romantic about it only to get there and realize I've committed to something I don't want to stick with for a full year. (Long, awkward silence.) Damnit I hate how well you know me.<br />
<br />
DM: (straightens blazer and repositions self as professionally calm) Good. I'm glad see my point.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Me: But listen, practically, what if I can't find a job once I'm there?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
DM: Then you'll be in the exact same position you are now, except you'll be in a tropical paradise. But you'll find what you're supposed to find when you get there - whether it be a job, a volunteer opportunity, friends, or writing contacts. And you'll find it by following threads and trusting divine providence, just like all the best parts of your travels so far.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Me: That's scary.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
DM: Then it's the right thing. Jump in. Live with gusto. You should know by now that you don't have to have all the details figured out first. In fact, you block gifts from the universe when you do.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Me: You're right. It's one thing to say it but another to actually live that way. Oh god this is really scary. And thrilling. Thanks, Dr. Melfi.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
DM: You're welcome. That will be $300.<br />
<br />
Me: (muttering to self as I walk out) <i>What a bitch. . .</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">If you like my blog, share the love! Send it on to a friend or sign up to receive email updates when I post by clicking the blue, "Join this site" button on the right.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581562723569817180.post-50293132227234740562012-12-26T17:57:00.003-08:002012-12-26T17:57:41.657-08:00A Traveler's ChristmasLike <a href="http://journeytowildness.blogspot.com/2012/11/thanks-and-thanks-and-thanks-and-thanks.html">Thanksgiving</a>, this was my first Christmas away from home. And also like <a href="http://journeytowildness.blogspot.com/2012/11/thanksgiving-part-two-double-food.html">Thanksgiving</a>, my Christmas was full of friends, love, and new experiences.<br />
<br />
I awoke to find that Santa had found me all the way in Santa Cruz! Along with the stockings for all of their children and grandchildren, Heidi and Mike (my gracious hosts for most of December) had also filled a stocking for me. And just like the ones I get back home, it included a toothbrush. I guess parents are the same everywhere.<br />
<br />
After a quick breakfast and stocking-opening, I shuffled cheerfully off to work a two-hour shift at the coffee shop. My boss didn't require any of us to work and wasn't planning to be open, but he offered anyone who wanted to come in the opportunity to set our own hours, make good tips, and donate all of the profit for the day to a shared employee bonus fund. It was lovely to see all of the smiling regulars with their families on Christmas!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3tUhQdT7ZIE/UNunVfo2rhI/AAAAAAAACtA/Qt4dKc5Otys/s1600/IMG_2770.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3tUhQdT7ZIE/UNunVfo2rhI/AAAAAAAACtA/Qt4dKc5Otys/s320/IMG_2770.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cafe on Christmas morning</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ABPXlP-4aZY/UNunT5phxhI/AAAAAAAACs4/cWfJQg1t9GQ/s1600/IMG_2769.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ABPXlP-4aZY/UNunT5phxhI/AAAAAAAACs4/cWfJQg1t9GQ/s320/IMG_2769.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our overflowing tip jar</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
From work, I drove to my friend, Leslie's house for a fun, non-traditional Christmas girl's afternoon. We had some of the most amazing Thai food I've ever eaten (I got yellow lamb curry) for lunch. It was the first time I've been out to eat at a restaurant for about two months. I bought. It felt amazing. I never realized how spoiled I was before.<br /><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H4drE0ssjRc/UNunWOxMGeI/AAAAAAAACtI/cExgaTtQw0U/s1600/IMG_2774.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-H4drE0ssjRc/UNunWOxMGeI/AAAAAAAACtI/cExgaTtQw0U/s320/IMG_2774.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lunching ladies</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /><div>
Our original plan after lunch was to see a movie, but we opted last minute for the beach instead. Since we had just finished receiving a huge storm over several days, the beach was strewn with piles of driftwood and kelp for miles. There were families building structures on the sand in santa hats and people running barefoot in the cold water. I can safely say I've never been to the beach on Christmas before.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vJ_rnVp2lCk/UNuo5u9ffSI/AAAAAAAACuU/dNbQDHz69CI/s1600/IMG_2778.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vJ_rnVp2lCk/UNuo5u9ffSI/AAAAAAAACuU/dNbQDHz69CI/s320/IMG_2778.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Long shot of the shore (lighthouse in the distance)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJiun8mq4t-K_OVU5Z2GZwDxcekw5q0_cPyC56KL9IuQqe4W5zhV4m0jR4ZU7zRli3gsZADMCNzaH3eJ-5J4lXHIzB389FuilvTjNtI2k-s2ZCPc41PE7_z1vHAu0YIzPqX8EEusNICJs/s1600/IMG_2781.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJiun8mq4t-K_OVU5Z2GZwDxcekw5q0_cPyC56KL9IuQqe4W5zhV4m0jR4ZU7zRli3gsZADMCNzaH3eJ-5J4lXHIzB389FuilvTjNtI2k-s2ZCPc41PE7_z1vHAu0YIzPqX8EEusNICJs/s320/IMG_2781.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me running into the water</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifDaTZ2TVEKvkEE5tR1cCxn4F-0bWG1-1rUvn5AlN4_hHvnPnGH3dyhmWsiStZhlQ6C3NP2DNgdE_YXdDS4kjOPDAqAZicUUN2x7BkKYEY3vObF1HCxzCbUaeQ3bJu4kgIHzWxROVIb3Y/s1600/IMG_2783.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifDaTZ2TVEKvkEE5tR1cCxn4F-0bWG1-1rUvn5AlN4_hHvnPnGH3dyhmWsiStZhlQ6C3NP2DNgdE_YXdDS4kjOPDAqAZicUUN2x7BkKYEY3vObF1HCxzCbUaeQ3bJu4kgIHzWxROVIb3Y/s320/IMG_2783.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yay!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Finally, I returned to my host's home for Christmas dinner and game-playing with their extended family. We had cheese fondue for an appetizer, then a pork roast, crab risotto, green beans, asparagus, and fresh-baked bread for dinner. For dessert? Cream puffs, peppermint chocolate cake, and more cookies, fudge, and popcorn than anyone will ever need.<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dWdiDvy-OcQ/UNup4Q6L11I/AAAAAAAACuw/MK1Z7mmnqYQ/s1600/IMG_2788.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-dWdiDvy-OcQ/UNup4Q6L11I/AAAAAAAACuw/MK1Z7mmnqYQ/s320/IMG_2788.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Evan tasting the fondue</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MgV86y0YFyI/UNup5u7coEI/AAAAAAAACu4/0AIiptzhcj8/s1600/IMG_2797.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MgV86y0YFyI/UNup5u7coEI/AAAAAAAACu4/0AIiptzhcj8/s320/IMG_2797.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The family table</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XonppN2eHBU/UNup6crULvI/AAAAAAAACvA/71vf1T-Blas/s1600/IMG_2801.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="271" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XonppN2eHBU/UNup6crULvI/AAAAAAAACvA/71vf1T-Blas/s320/IMG_2801.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Evan and Laina identifying superheros with their nephew in his new book</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I went to sleep with a smile on my face and a heart bursting with gratitude. I missed my family very much, of course, but was glad to be the complete opposite of alone on this holiday.</div>
<div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581562723569817180.post-22190084915289672062012-12-23T19:06:00.001-08:002012-12-24T07:55:01.675-08:00Daily Bread<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">The topic of security keeps arising in my life.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Today at <a href="http://www.innerlightministries.com/">Inner Light</a>, Reverend Deborah Johnson brought up the phrase, "Give us this day our daily bread." What is daily bread? I am doubtful it means a baguette on your table each day. (Although - baguettes, yum. . .) She suggested daily bread means what we need to be sustained each day.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpS5FxkhQIRU2RypdALoAaSFMLtMr9FEWV15olCS6vTdbPC6oi-0pjpfOYM2t9xeBLFhtr8DkK9YDKR5oBZ3jp1quNaxTc4C2lWFqaYRN30pHihqqnh8zAkIk7UqHocQ2xoJl7wqa8qsg/s1600/baguettes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpS5FxkhQIRU2RypdALoAaSFMLtMr9FEWV15olCS6vTdbPC6oi-0pjpfOYM2t9xeBLFhtr8DkK9YDKR5oBZ3jp1quNaxTc4C2lWFqaYRN30pHihqqnh8zAkIk7UqHocQ2xoJl7wqa8qsg/s1600/baguettes.jpg" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: xx-small;">(Photo: cookaround.com)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">She told the story in Exodus when god dropped manna from the sky to feed the Israelites as they journeyed through the wilderness. There was only enough for one day at a time. If they tried to collect extra for the next day, it spoiled. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">At times on my own journey through the "wilderness" this year (aka the U.S.), I have felt like the Israelites. I'm <i>mostly</i> happy about my decision, and I <i>usually</i> trust that everything will work out, but sometimes I doubt. The "manna" has continued to appear for me each day. It may come in the form of safe accommodation, nourishing food, enriching company, or spiritual community. So why do I still worry that it will stop? </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Probably because it annoyingly comes in little, tiny bits at a time.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I mean, it'd be nice if sometimes god sent like a month's worth of manna so I could store it in the freezer and say, "Phew! Glad this month is taken care of!" But just like the Israelites, each time I try to "collect more manna" - to plan too far into the future - my plans spoil. I hear the small voice inside me saying, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Be here on THIS day. Eat the food you have for THIS meal. Sleep in the bed you have on THIS night. And trust that more will come tomorrow.</i></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span>
Argh! What an AFGO. (Another F-ing Growth Opportunity.)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Yet, have I ever gone without? No. The only time I truly suffered was when I <i>worried</i> about going without.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i><br /></i>
<i>Ohmygod Ohmygod what if I run out of money? What if I have no place to stay? What if someone finds me in my car in the middle of the night and rapes me? What if my car breaks down? What if I get lonely and can't find friends? What if I can never afford the tattoo I've been wanting?</i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i><br /></i>
And then, nearly in the next breath - <i>Oh. Well that turned out just fine.</i> (Except for the tattoo thing - I still can't afford that. Damn.)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i><br /></i>
So, security. What is it, then? Where does it come from?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-bottom: 6px; padding-left: 6px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 6px; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HbSnoquChBc/UNfFFPgerqI/AAAAAAAACrc/YLzTsQ2nmwY/s1600/security.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HbSnoquChBc/UNfFFPgerqI/AAAAAAAACrc/YLzTsQ2nmwY/s1600/security.jpg" style="cursor: move;" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: xx-small;">(Photo: money.msn.com)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
Right about now I'm tempted to think it comes from a fat, steady paycheck and health insurance - things I haven't had in awhile. Sometimes when I don't understand things about humans, I look to the animal world and ask how the rest of the creatures do it.<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">What other living things have assurance that all is always well, secure, and promised? What armadillo in the world depends on a paycheck? Show me a swan who has health insurance, a gecko with a retirement account, or a giraffe with social security. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
These things only give us security until they don't. At best, they give us a distracting illusion. At worse, not only do they fail to give us true security, they may actually prevent us from finding it.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
Two quotes come to mind:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span class="text Matt-6-26" id="en-NIV-23309"><span class="woj">"Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-23309A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)"></sup> Are you not much more valuable than they?<sup class="crossreference" style="font-weight: bold; line-height: normal; vertical-align: top;" value="(<a href="#cen-NIV-23309B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)"></sup></span></span> <span class="Apple-style-span"><b> </b></span><span class="text Matt-6-27" id="en-NIV-23310"><span class="woj">Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life<span class="Apple-style-span"><b>?" - Matthew 6:26-27, the Bible</b></span></span></span></i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #181818; line-height: 18px;"></span><br /></i></span>
<br />
<h1 class="quoteText" style="color: #181818; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 15px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><i>“So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservatism, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more dangerous to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future.” - Jon Krakauer, Into the Wild</i></span></h1>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Allowing myself to live like "the birds of the air," means that sometimes being provided for will look like abundance, and sometimes it will look like barely basic survival. And eventually, it will look like death. Because that's how all of nature works, and I am not exempt.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
But I would rather live in the wide open truth of daily, divine providence than behind the long-term illusion of institutional security. So, give me this day my daily bread, and I will eat of it gratefully.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QNr5Ei5h1d8/UNfGkZ2hiLI/AAAAAAAACrs/DMrTa_0fg8E/s1600/birds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QNr5Ei5h1d8/UNfGkZ2hiLI/AAAAAAAACrs/DMrTa_0fg8E/s1600/birds.jpg" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: xx-small;">(Photo: cartinafinland.fi)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b>UPDATED:</b> Upon re-reading this the day after I posted, I hear a judgmental tone, which was not my intention. To be clear, I do not stand in judgement of anyone who currently receives a paycheck or has health insurance or a retirement account! The life I am leading is not superior to yours. Now that I don't have those things, I see how <i>I</i> was lulled into complacency before when I did, and I appreciate how I am forced to rely solely on divine providence now. K, that's it. Thanks.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">If you like my blog, share the love! Send it on to a friend, or hit the blue "Join this site" button on the right to become a member and receive email updates on new posts. Thanks for visiting!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581562723569817180.post-29668534465209694372012-12-21T08:11:00.001-08:002012-12-21T08:14:18.967-08:00Naming the Nameless - visit my guest post!Hello dear, beautiful, faithful, inspiring, committed blog readers.<br />
<br />
Thank you for taking the journey of the past couple of days with me - down to the depths of financial, occupational, and otherwise life-related insecurity, then soaring up to the heights of generosity, gratitude, and deep knowledge that everything is, right now, in this moment, PERFECT.<br />
<br />
(If you are just arriving here and don't know what I'm talking about, read <a href="http://journeytowildness.blogspot.com/2012/12/help.html">this one</a> first, and then <a href="http://journeytowildness.blogspot.com/2012/12/blessings-and-gratitude-wow.html">this one</a>.)<br />
<br />
Today, I have the honor of being published on one of my new online friend's blogs. I "met" him through the blogging community and have been inspired by his thought-provoking writing about the church and his spiritual journey. He invited me to write a guest post for him - yay!<br />
<br />
So today, perfect for the impending end-of-the-world or complete-consciousness-shift (which one is TBD), for your reading pleasure, please visit <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.heretichusband.com/2012/12/guest-post-naming-nameless.html">http://www.heretichusband.com/2012/12/guest-post-naming-nameless.html</a>.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581562723569817180.post-20213760792271798812012-12-19T13:58:00.002-08:002012-12-20T01:08:22.707-08:00Blessings and Gratitude. Wow.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 17px;">Earlier today, I posted a </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 17px;"><a href="http://journeytowildness.blogspot.com/2012/12/help.html">cry for help</a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 17px;">. Being homeless, underemployed, and without community in my new home was taking its toll on me. I know that I am provided for and that all is well, but sometimes I forget.</span><br />
<div style="color: #333333; line-height: 17px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="color: #333333; line-height: 17px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I posted my vulnerability on my blog because it serves no one to pretend that I am happy all the time or that I always have it together. I can't do this alone. None of us can. I hoped that I might receive some messages of support that would help me remember the truths I mentioned above. I did. Thank you.</span></div>
<div style="color: #333333; line-height: 17px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="color: #333333; line-height: 17px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In addition, I received a gift that I never would have expected, and certainly was in no way asking for. A friend and faithful blog reader, who wishes to remain anonymous, sent this message to me:</span></div>
<div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 17px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
Melanie,</div>
<div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px;">
You should receive a text shortly. But I couldn't put enough in the message that comes with it.</div>
<div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px;">
I would like to make a gift to you, as my first act of kindness for the 26 Acts of Kindness honoring the Sandy Hook victims. I promised myself that these acts would be of substance, something bigger than I would normally do just because I always want to be kind and help others. I hesitated to make a commitment to do 26 acts, because I worried that I would just do what I would do anyway and label it as "in honor of..." So this is me pushing the boundaries to truly honor the lives lost.</div>
<div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px;">
I hope that you will accept it, because it is not about you. And it is not because I believe you will not find your own way. It is about my need to help heal the hurt of this tragedy by spreading kindness, by offering help when help is needed, and by doing things I know will reverberate with love and living.</div>
<div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px;">
I'd like to honor Charlotte Bacon, 6, with $100 for each year of her too short life.</div>
<div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px;">
I chose you/her because her new outfit of a pink dress and white boots reminded me of you. And because her uncle described her saying: "I watched her go and run off the pontoon and into the water with total confidence. She lived life with gusto. This little girl knew how to live life."</div>
<div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px;">
I want to honor her with something that I believe will help others learn how to live life. And I am choosing to invest in you because I think you (and your writing) are teaching and will teach others how to live life with gusto.</div>
<div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px;">
And I am choosing you because in the wake of this tragedy, in a world where too many cries for help go unanswered, I want to honor your request for help.</div>
<div style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 17px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 10px;">
You are loved and taken care of. Live life with gusto.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And then I received a text message telling me that $600 had been deposited in my paypal account.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I ran out of the cafe where I was sitting at the moment and called this friend, weeping with gratitude, overwhelmed by their kindness. I print this letter here with their permission.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And then I rode my bike to the beach and prayed. I thanked god that I have always been, am now in this moment, and will continue to be provided for. I acknowledged that I am not, nor do I want to be in control. I offered the money up to the heavens, asking that I be given the wisdom to use it in a way that would honor Charolotte and her family, honor the giver, and allow me to use to my gift of writing as my friend described.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I have had no idea how to begin processing what happened in Connecticut. I burst into tears every time I hear anything about it. It is beyond my scope of understanding, as is so much of life. But this gift has given me a place to start. For the sake of Charlotte Bacon, I will remember to life my life with gusto. I am posting this whole story here so you might be inspired to do the same.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-732hlkylvMU/UNI32nlyfMI/AAAAAAAACqU/BHHr4mM0bw8/s1600/charlotte+bacon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-732hlkylvMU/UNI32nlyfMI/AAAAAAAACqU/BHHr4mM0bw8/s1600/charlotte+bacon.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Charlotte Bacon<br />
(photo: greenwichcitizen.com)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Enjoying my blog? Share the love! Forward it to a friend or become a follower by clicking the blue, "Join this site" button on the right. Thanks for visiting!</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581562723569817180.post-66362507797043269322012-12-19T09:33:00.002-08:002012-12-19T11:11:26.814-08:00HELP!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3T2YnM8ZWs/UNH6dQ3XZNI/AAAAAAAACpM/__9O-CYAoJ0/s1600/help.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S3T2YnM8ZWs/UNH6dQ3XZNI/AAAAAAAACpM/__9O-CYAoJ0/s1600/help.jpg" /></a></div>
Yesterday I found out that I didn't get the apartment I was hoping to move in to in January. It was a fantastic group house with five interesting, creative people and a trampoline. The rent was the only one I'd found after a month of searching that I could afford. I thought my interview went very well, and I was surprised to hear that I didn't get it.<br />
<br />
The guy said, "Listen I know it sounds like bad news that you didn't get the spot, but I want you to know why. We received over 100 applications for the room, and only interviewed nine people. In the end, you were in our top three - and you were my first choice, for whatever it's worth - but they didn't go with you because you were, well, this is going to sound weird, but they thought you were too positive."<br />
<br />
"Too positive?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"I mean, you are obviously such an amazing woman. We all agreed that you really have your life together and are solid. They figured you'd have no trouble finding somewhere else. They decided to give the room to someone who they felt like needed it more."<br />
<br />
My heart sank into my shoes. So I'm actually having opportunities denied now because I'm not vulnerable enough. My whole life people have been telling me how "together" I have it, and I've been yelling inside, "No! It's not true! I need help, too!" <br />
<br />
Well let me take the opportunity to change that right now. Because I do NOT have it all together. In fact, right at the moment, I'm rather terrified. Shaking, in fact.<br />
<br />
After a month of hustle, I barely have enough to be ready to move in somewhere in January, and no guarantee that I'll be able to make enough next month to get through February. And all that is moot anyway because I can't find somewhere to live. The only places I can afford on a minimum wage salary are out in the mountains, and I can't afford to pay for gas to get in to town to work. I'm literally putting $12 of gas in my tank at a time right now, because it's often all I have in my wallet.<br />
<br />
And if a second job doesn't come through, I won't even be able to afford those tiny mountain apartments. I won't be able to feed myself (which I'm barely doing now). I won't be able to afford to stay in Santa Cruz.<br />
<br />
So that's the basic food and shelter conundrum. Next comes community.<br />
<br />
I've been grateful to make one friend here. One. I've been at her place almost every day, milking her company for all its worth. I've met a few other people who've said, "Yeah cool we'll hang out totally," and then never call. Or they say, "Let's hang out after the holidays because I have family stuff until then." Yes, how nice for you.<br />
<br />
And this church that I've been so excited about? I sit in the pew on Sundays and feel spiritually nourished and inspired, but when I try to go deeper, my efforts reap no results. I've approached the choir director about joining. She told me to call her, which I did, and she never called me back. Those "fun, dreaded, young people" who invited me to come to their house anytime haven't responded to my calls.<br />
<br />
I know it's not personal. I'm not taking it personally. I get that people have lives that don't revolve around me and there are ten million possible reasons why they didn't call me back. And it still means that I haven't made any more friends, and haven't gone deeper in the church.<br />
<br />
Part of the reason I stayed here in Santa Cruz was because it's so beautiful. There are so many fantastic beaches and fascinating places to see, and I haven't had time to see any of them because I'm so busy trying to keep myself housed and fed.<br />
<br />
So with no place to live, not enough work, barely enough money, and hardly any friends, what else could I possibly be asked to deal with?<br />
<br />
Well you'll never guess who showed up at my work two days ago. My loving freaking husband.<br />
<br />
Yes, really. I stupidly wrote on my blog where I got a job, so he knew how to find me.<br />
<br />
After leaving me (twice) and sending nothing but hostile communication for the past three months, he drove 2000 miles to tell me that he's realized he still loves me and wants to work it out.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">HA!</span><br />
<br />
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Excuse me for a minute while I decide whether to laugh my ass off or barf up my entire life. You've got to be kidding me.<br />
<br />
I sent him away. He left peacefully, but this is not over. My email inbox is testament to that. As if I have any time or energy to deal with that right now. Shit.<br />
<br />
So here you go, world. This is me being vulnerable. I don't say stuff like this often because:<br />
<ol>
<li>I want to be everyone's ray of freaking sunshine. I want to only add light and love to the world, not complaining and negativity. So if I get scared or feel the urge to worry, I just pray or meditate it away and don't speak it to anyone. I don't want to ruin their day.</li>
<li>I believe in manifestation. I live like all is well because I believe it will make all be well. I want to call abundance into my life, not scarcity. So it's almost like if I say these worries aloud, I'll feed them energy and make them worse.</li>
<li>I am not a victim. I don't want to say "woe is me" because I take full responsibility for how my life shows up. <i>I</i> quit my job. <i>I</i> drove across the country away from all that I know and towards all that is unfamiliar. <i>I</i> chose to marry Oldman. I'm not asking anyone to feel sorry for me.</li>
</ol>
<div>
But when I don't get opportunities because I present as though I have it so together that I don't need help, that is my sign that I'm not reaching out enough. I'm practicing saying help.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">HELP!!</span></div>
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581562723569817180.post-19153683938932664262012-12-17T09:31:00.001-08:002012-12-17T09:31:24.073-08:00Spreading the Montana LoveI am grateful to say that other bloggers have begun to contact me about doing guest posts on their blogs. I "met" Lyn Fuchs on Matador, the social networking site for travel writers and photographers. He asked me to write a piece for him on one of my favorite places, so immediately, I thought of my beloved Montana.<br />
<br />
Please head over to his blog and check out my piece! Thanks, Lyn.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://lynfuchs.blogspot.com/2012/12/primal-wilderness-rambling-from-montana.html">http://lynfuchs.blogspot.com/2012/12/primal-wilderness-rambling-from-montana.html</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581562723569817180.post-80577107536090728452012-12-15T22:52:00.000-08:002012-12-16T09:40:41.939-08:00WTF, Comet?<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:View>Normal</w:View>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves/>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:DoNotPromoteQF/>
<w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther>
<w:LidThemeAsian>JA</w:LidThemeAsian>
<w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:SnapToGridInCell/>
<w:WrapTextWithPunct/>
<w:UseAsianBreakRules/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/>
<w:EnableOpenTypeKerning/>
<w:DontFlipMirrorIndents/>
<w:OverrideTableStyleHps/>
<w:UseFELayout/>
</w:Compatibility>
<m:mathPr>
<m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/>
<m:brkBin m:val="before"/>
<m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/>
<m:smallFrac m:val="off"/>
<m:dispDef/>
<m:lMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:rMargin m:val="0"/>
<m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/>
<m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/>
<m:intLim m:val="subSup"/>
<m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/>
</m:mathPr></w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
DefSemiHidden="true" DefQFormat="false" DefPriority="99"
LatentStyleCount="276">
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="0" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Normal"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="heading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="9" QFormat="true" Name="heading 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 7"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 8"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" Name="toc 9"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="35" QFormat="true" Name="caption"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="10" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" Name="Default Paragraph Font"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="11" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtitle"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="22" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Strong"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="20" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="59" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Table Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Placeholder Text"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="1" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="No Spacing"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Revision"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="34" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="List Paragraph"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="29" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="30" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Quote"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 1"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 2"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 3"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 4"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 5"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="60" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="61" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="62" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Light Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="63" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="64" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Shading 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="65" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="66" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium List 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="67" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 1 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="68" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 2 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="69" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Medium Grid 3 Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="70" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Dark List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="71" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Shading Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="72" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful List Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="73" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" Name="Colorful Grid Accent 6"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="19" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="21" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Emphasis"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="31" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Subtle Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="32" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Intense Reference"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="33" SemiHidden="false"
UnhideWhenUsed="false" QFormat="true" Name="Book Title"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="37" Name="Bibliography"/>
<w:LsdException Locked="false" Priority="39" QFormat="true" Name="TOC Heading"/>
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:10.0pt;
font-family:Cambria;}
</style>
<![endif]-->
<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gm8PhWvdhwM/UM1r8DBePNI/AAAAAAAACoE/o-FpxSEKI4w/s1600/comet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gm8PhWvdhwM/UM1r8DBePNI/AAAAAAAACoE/o-FpxSEKI4w/s320/comet.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Geminid over the Mojave Desert<br />
(Photo credit: Wally Patchoika)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
December 14th was a very strange day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I tossed and turned all through the preceding night with nightmares, confusion, sweating and chills, like a dark, night fever. I woke up an hour earlier than I had planned to, at the time I later learned that the Connecticut shooting had begun.<br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span>
Something was wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could feel
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt antsy and anxious, like I
wanted to run from something but I wasn’t sure what from, or what to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt suffering in my chest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> H</span>eavy, quickly-moving suffering.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
Part of it was the dread I had about going to my job. Not at the Ugly Mug - I love it there - but at the farmer's house whom I'd been helping to move, clean, and organize. I'd been going there several times a week to help him because he pays well and my few shifts at the Mug aren't enough, but every time I go, I leave feeling more drained of life. I know it is not a positive environment for me for many reasons, yet I have been afraid to quit because I haven't been sure how else to make the money I need to set up my life in Santa Cruz.<br />
<br />
But while the discomfort with which I awoke encompassed my employment and financial fears, it was much bigger than just that. It was more than just me. I was tempted to run from the feeling - cover it up with a rash decision or a technological distraction.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then I remembered myself and chose to be concsious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I meditated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> I prayed. </span>I said aloud to the room, “I am aware of this discomfort; this suffering. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">I suspect this means that s</span>omething is shifting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Because I don't yet know what, I will take no action</span>. Help me to remain observant today.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As soon as I walked in to work at the farmer's place, he began yelling. At me, at the other workers, at anything. I've seen him in foul moods before but never like this. Never so unprovoked. He spewed negativity in every direction like he was projectile-vomiting up
his breakfast.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One of the other workers yelled back. I kept quiet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
prayed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I breathed deeply.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I decided that this was my sign.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As soon as he left, I said to the other worker, “I’m done
here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not coming back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am choosing not to worry about the money - something else
will come through.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If staying in Santa
Cruz means working here, I’m not supposed to be in Santa Cruz.”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Less than ten minutes later, my mom called with two kinds of
news.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First, she had just deposited enough Christmas money into my account (from both my parents and grandmother) to ensure that working at the farm any more this month would not be necessary. Huge sigh of well-timed relief.<br />
<br />
Second, she told me about the shooting in Connecticut. About the dead children. Dead. Children. WTF??<br />
<br />
Shortly after hanging up with her, lost in a mixed haze of gratitude and grief, my phone rang again. It was another coffee shop in the area with whom I had dropped off a resume a month ago (and since forgotten about), asking if I could please come in for an interview on Tuesday.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The moment I declared to the universe that I was letting the unhealthy farm job go, I became open for something else to flow in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And it did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And because I am dense and need the universe to smack me rather hard
with things like this, it arranged for the phone calls to come directly after
my declaration, which helped me put it all together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thanks, universe.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
But the dead children. There are still dead children.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then another worker came in to the farm and said, "Hey did you guys see the meteor shower last night?"<o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
"No," I said. "I didn't even know there was one."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, supposedly this time it carries dust from a comet that has never been part of the Geminid shower before. Actually, Earth has never been through the dust of this comet before. Ever."<br />
<br />
Chills ran from the back of my neck down my arms. What the hell, comet? Seriously. Knock it off.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I decided it would be my last day at the farm, I wanted to finish the particular task I needed to get done to get paid and leave as fast as possible, even if it meant not stopping to eat or go to the bathroom. So I worked and worked and worked and just forgot to eat or pee.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I never said a word to the farmer about my plans never to return. I simply took my day's pay and left. Shaking and delirious with hunger and a full bladder, I drove to McDonald’s (yes, I was <i>that</i> desperate). When I arrived, someone was in the bathroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For a long, long time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He emerged when I went up to the counter to
get my food, so I never saw him, which I think is best.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Because when I got into the bathroom, there
was a syringe and a piece of burnt out tin can in the trash. He had been in there shooting up god knows what.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I hugged myself and looked around as though somehow, in this
one-room bathroom, which I had just locked behind me, he was still there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stared at that needle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt overwhelming empathy for his suffering, for the kind of life he must lead, which only added to the inexplicable suffering I had been carrying
all day.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I made it home at last, so grateful for a place to sleep, for a car,
for food, for any money at all, for being addiction-free, for not being dead,
for not being the parent of a child who was now dead.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As the universe’s final hurrah on this crazy comet day, I
checked my email one, last time before bed to discover an email from my
husband. (Yes, I still have a one, though I haven't seen him for over three months - since the day he left.) After several angry communications from him over the past two weeks that have garnered no response from me, this one contained a completely un-prompted kindness.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not because of that email, but because of the whole world of suffering and confusion and beauty and interconnection, I sunk to the floor of my borrowed room and wept. <br />
<br />
I wept for the parents in Connecticut. I wept for the people everywhere who had to say goodbye to someone they loved that day, whether or not the story made the evening news. I wept for the junkies, and for the fact that I am no better than them, addicted to my own vices in my own ways. I wept in gratitude for my own, beautiful life, and in sorrow for all the pain around me.<br />
<br />
I wept myself to sleep that night, and slept much, much more soundly than the night before.</div>
<!--EndFragment-->Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-581562723569817180.post-89378719564259205512012-12-13T10:15:00.000-08:002012-12-14T22:12:38.181-08:00Clowns in CaliforniaI have friend, Amelia. <br />
<br />
We both used to live in Takoma Park, Maryland - a tiny, hippie town just outside of D.C. - so tiny and hippie that everyone between the ages of 25 and 35 became friends, pretty much just because there were so few of us. (And because we were awesome, obviously.) (And because there was only one bar in town, so we all saw each other more often than we'd like to admit via that watering hole.)<br />
<br />
Amelia had a lovely little life going for her in Maryland - a caring boyfriend, a great job at the local music shop, a budding acting career - and then she left it all to go to clown college in California. I remember our Takoma Park community being excited for her decision, but also slightly confused. Why would she leave when it seemed like she had everything going for her here? And <i>clown college?</i><br />
<br />
In short, folks asked the same questions of her that were asked of me when I made my decision to leave my everything-going-for-me life in Maryland.<br />
<br />
A few weeks ago, I took a weekend trip from Santa Cruz up to Oakland (on the east bay of San Francisco, for my east coast readers), to drop a travel friend off at the airport. While there, I visited Amelia, whom I hadn't seen in over three years.<br />
<br />
She showed me around her apartment - which is sort of a theater-turned-loft; part of a larger, labyrinthian network of other such unique apartments inside a huge artist complex. It's difficult to describe, so here are some photos:<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-toeBrP4oiAU/UMoU26VzkeI/AAAAAAAAClo/ZjR3ZrUOfAk/s1600/IMG_2456.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-toeBrP4oiAU/UMoU26VzkeI/AAAAAAAAClo/ZjR3ZrUOfAk/s320/IMG_2456.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One outside shot of someone's porch (not Amelia's)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-txcXeE_z9QY/UMoUk258H9I/AAAAAAAAClg/DJwusstgCW8/s1600/IMG_2455.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-txcXeE_z9QY/UMoUk258H9I/AAAAAAAAClg/DJwusstgCW8/s320/IMG_2455.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All of the interior hallway space doubles as a gallery for the artists who live there</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pWCtIH94yaY/UMoUJFCpJJI/AAAAAAAAClQ/1tP2A44hBgs/s1600/IMG_2453.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pWCtIH94yaY/UMoUJFCpJJI/AAAAAAAAClQ/1tP2A44hBgs/s320/IMG_2453.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another hallway art installation</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLj68hbYiH5IDy9ux6ubdxNGA5DrZAjaOMqvn6E7c2WECE-3OHlYlxmwWSAOAX2JPKe6w7Hr541a_5TigV66vP93uA7ahQSTNjlNBZkB5gsksOvsVutWTal9W9aY4NV51eZ6U1Wd3h2_8/s1600/IMG_2454.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLj68hbYiH5IDy9ux6ubdxNGA5DrZAjaOMqvn6E7c2WECE-3OHlYlxmwWSAOAX2JPKe6w7Hr541a_5TigV66vP93uA7ahQSTNjlNBZkB5gsksOvsVutWTal9W9aY4NV51eZ6U1Wd3h2_8/s320/IMG_2454.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There are five of these inner, green courtyards throughout the place.<br />
This is the one Amelia walks through each day to get to her particular hallway. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxFVlHZ8Jrh39cgqC93u-G6mOSR6zeD_Ka8Y2__JPYTtxKPemfpWGB2B7C4XWwB0sdo_pbFghi7gZUQ1A6j8g7rDXxtk96cvgYr8EOcqSHA3rf-SQqEW-2vhRSa-wDG3UXDue0d8XeIAo/s1600/IMG_2451.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxFVlHZ8Jrh39cgqC93u-G6mOSR6zeD_Ka8Y2__JPYTtxKPemfpWGB2B7C4XWwB0sdo_pbFghi7gZUQ1A6j8g7rDXxtk96cvgYr8EOcqSHA3rf-SQqEW-2vhRSa-wDG3UXDue0d8XeIAo/s320/IMG_2451.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amelia showing me her purple, fuzzy door.<br />
It came that way.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Huv5Ess7q14/UMoTn-hhqyI/AAAAAAAACk4/Jd0Nc6xxz-g/s1600/IMG_2446.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Huv5Ess7q14/UMoTn-hhqyI/AAAAAAAACk4/Jd0Nc6xxz-g/s320/IMG_2446.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An interior shot of their apartment, taken from the perspective of<br />
the loft kitchen, looking down on the music studio portion.<br />
Under the stairs to the left is a stage that doubles as a bedroom.<br />
Under the stairs behind the piano is a puppet workshop.<br />
Spiderman is on the stairs.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div>
Amelia lives here with her fiancé, Michael, a puppet maker and clown that she met in clown college. Currently also living with them are a couple from Puerto Rico and a friend from clown college who is about to leave for Bali.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As Amelia and I had tea in her incredible apartment, I asked about her life journey since I'd seen her last. She told me about clown college and how she met her fiancé. She showed me photos of a show that they and another friend wrote together and took on the road. She told me all the things she loves about Oakland, and clowning, and her fiancé, and her life.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As she spoke, I recognized something in her. Something rare but intimately familiar. She was glowing. Her smiles were deep; they came from her gut. She spoke with a lilting, joyful ease. She laughed a lot. Amelia has always been a happy person, I'd say, but this was different than just happiness.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This was. . . rightfulness?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
That's the only way I can think to describe it. While we might not have all understood Amelia's decision to leave, something inside was pulling her to a new place for reasons that no one else could - or <i>needed to</i> - understand. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And now that I saw her here, at the other end of her decision, it was <i>so clear</i> to me that she was in the exact right place for her, with the exact right people, doing the exact right thing.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I'm proud of her, inspired by her example, and grateful to still call her friend.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And to end this post, here are some silly shots from our trip to Whole Foods, where her fiancé, Michael, works:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JDQdixzo9vY/UMoaKWrh98I/AAAAAAAACmw/gNZUTwqU_FQ/s1600/IMG_2468.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JDQdixzo9vY/UMoaKWrh98I/AAAAAAAACmw/gNZUTwqU_FQ/s320/IMG_2468.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amelia modeling a fuzzy hat and wooden tie<br />
(Yes Whole Foods carries this stuff - who knew??)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wwPKgVZIdVw/UMoaS8MwjRI/AAAAAAAACm4/qiwgV7TIct0/s1600/IMG_2469.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wwPKgVZIdVw/UMoaS8MwjRI/AAAAAAAACm4/qiwgV7TIct0/s320/IMG_2469.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Michael behind his fish counter, getting crabby.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18226146861360480298noreply@blogger.com0