Settling or Something

So I am now officially "settled" into my new home in Sellwood, OR in SE Portland. I live in a large house with my sister Tabitha, brother-in-law Jon, and friend Chris. Every day since the 1st of November (when my dear BEEGEE's went home) has been spent unpacking, buying furniture (from the goodwill bins, or heaven on earth as some may call it), arranging, cleaning, visualizing, and watching gilmore girls. Since I have been in this house Jon's grandma has died, my best friend Brooke got engaged, I went to a Joshua James concert, and I rode up a nasty hill on my bike without stopping.
So now I am here, in the Rose City, the River City, the City of Bridges, the place I have always called "home". And I tell you, it is strange to be here. Lovely and awkard and boring and exciting and lonely and comforting. Some days I feel like the whole world is at my fingertips and I will never have enough time to explore the whole city. Other days I feel like I am right where I was when I left home at the age of 17 and all the growing I have done has somehow gotten lost somewhere in hidden void because some things never change.
And I love that I have a huge back porch and book shelf full of books I have read and still have yet to read. I have prints to frame of places that I have loved with my whole heart, and new art to find to fill the empty spaces on my sponge painted wall (although lets be honest, how many empty spaces can there really be on a wall that has been painted with a sponge?). I have a job to find. I have friends to still reunite with, and other friends yet to make. I have the rest of fall, all of winter, spring.... and dreams to realize so I can work on them becoming reality.

This is home, so I guess I am exploring my roots.

Links in a chain

The wide open road.  And here we are, cruising, hair tossing in the wind that roars through the open window as the long awaited sun soaks our skin, music blaring and we are giddy at the thought of possibility.  Life and all it's prospects and all it's crazy cats just waiting for us to drive up and greet them in unexpected embrace, throw our heads back and laugh- that first memorable moment that locks us together like links in a chain, forever apart of each others history.

Now half way through.  The road still open though curved in order to take us back to where we left, to where semi-permanent homes offer their own adventures and journeys, and aren't all home always semi-permanent?  

And now the season is in full change, each leaf on each branch holding it's own unique color with which to excitedly welcome us to each new city, welcome banners on tiny branches ceaselessly waving as we pass, "come on in and see the change that has come over this city, come and see the rawness of humanity while in it's most exposed state, as it strips off summer identities and, naked, searches for a new outfit, one warm enough to carry through winter.  And watch as each new bitter wind whips passed and tests their choices and they learn what they are made of."

And we get tired, so we pull off on the side of the road to indulge in ice cream and watch a fire works show, huddle under the rough Mexican blanket.  And we get out our instruments and strum a new tune and find rejuvenation in the laugh of a baby and the gentle touch of a child.  And once again the long road greets us, a long set of links awaiting their turn to be connected, uniting where we began with where we are now with where we will end in a seamless circle cherished people and moments. 
 
A life well lived amidts the constant changing of the seasons. 

Walmart I am thankful today

Well we decided paying for a place in albequerque for 7 hours wasn't worth it, and we didnt want to camp because o the rain, so we parked in Walmart and spent the night in the car with security parked close by. It was nice and we had our sleeping bags.

Season

I was in a cozy living room with some most cherished friends who had gathered in Ferndale, WA last week and we were playing a game. The game was called questions or something simple like because all you did was answer questions and guess who answered what. Silly things like what would you love to disinvent, what one thing in the bathroom could you never throw away... But the one that was most interesting asked us to sum up our lives using only one word. My answer: seasons.
For everything we do and everything we are is done in seasons. The basic weather seasons, the seasons of growing up, the seasons of friendships cycling, sports seasons, the seasons of learning and growing, of having short hair and long hair, learning to drive cars, vans, scooters or buses, seasons of being alone and seasons of being surrounded, seasons of sickness and seasons of the best health you have ever had.
Recently I finished a fourth seasons of working in Alaska and I wonder if my summer Alaska seasons are going to be finished. At this for this season in my life. If maybe all these seasons are leading me, and maybe have led me, to a place where its time to be still and stationary though never stagnant. To a season of intentional living, of family, of porch swings and traveling only to return home once again. A season of staying put for a winter and maybe even a summer.
I wonder.
After i finish my month long road trip with my friend Ericka visiting many beautiful places and beautiful people (currently in Wrightwood, CA with April, Jackson, Joel, Brad, Lexi, Jeff, Marie, and a surprise visit from Abby and Dylan..) I will return to a home in Sellwood, OR (Portland) with a room that has my name on it and a family of roommates waiting for me to begin this new season together. At home.
As we learn to travel in our Season of togetherness.

Simple Desire

We have made so many things that separate us from what once was all that we knew. Cement to cover dirt paths, text messages and cell phones to cover answering machines and answering machines to cover face to face contact, cars to cover walking, grocery stores to cover growing it ourselves, tv to cover silence, video games to cover throwing rocks and playing in dirt, reading books, cowboys and Indians. It’s the simple life I love and I desire. The more I dream about it that happier I am, the more peace I feel. It’s the connection to earth, to what my spirit was made for, that I miss and I long for and that I find in the simple things. I find it in picking flowers, playing music and singing with friends, open fire, sun peaking through the clouds, running in the rain, giggling just because you are happy and you feel it, speaking in honesty, living in log cabins by the water’s edge, cemetery’s full of lives well lived, written words, and children running barefoot through forests, along beaches, in the grass, but mostly feeling the wind on their faces and rippling through their hair.

7/31/11

City at night, slowing down and asleep, washed in a sprinkle of rain and darkness.
Sitting six streets up in the windowsill, listening to bright eyes, wearing my p.j.’s, and overlooking the peaceful streets of Juneau in their most vulnerable state. Closed eyes, closed windows, closed doors, heads down. A heavy sigh it gives as the lights go out even as they flicker on. Guard is down.
Night is different than the peace of the morning when the city is silently pruning itself with the first lights of day as it prepares itself to greet the early risers with sunrise, coffee, and dew covered leaves. Night is a peace of rest when the city is not expecting to be seen or to see. Deeds can be hidden, lovers can love without hindrance, depression can lead one over a bridge, travel can lead you over many hidden miles, and a person can sit and be left alone. In honesty, quiet, and in peace.
As I sit six stories up looking at Juneau in the night, I think about individuality.
Individuality. The individual that continues through each new circumstance. Like the city street that stays the same though all the faces change. One year, two years, three and now four and each different than the one before. But Juneau and I, though we have grown older and still wiser, are the same. Learning to love and care for the faces that roam our streets and walk through our doors. Realizing that closed doors can be open and even locks can be broken and some people are kind enough to wipe off their feet or take off their shoes before stepping inside. That though many have crossed the threshold, both in and out, we have survived and continue still to stand. Continuous and the same as we change.

Another Alaska Post

It’s been 2 months and I am still amazed and just how good “helplessness blues” is. Sunday music fest is simply a dream every week when we get together with good friends and play good music and sometimes make good brownies. Salsa dancing on Saturday nights is eye-opening, a work out, and mostly some of the best fun I have ever had. Hearing how much the staff loves our silent dance parties and dreaming about them all joining our next one makes me giddy. What if the whole town joined? Putting photos on the wall makes me feel at home. Lying on our lawn chairs on the “roof” while we read and write and listen to bright eyes is the epitome of perfection. The simple improvements every day in my climbing and the few times I can actually take some time away from life and go on a run are invigorating. Sitting in a circle in the couches in the lobby or the chairs in the kitchen and sharing ideas about school, marriage, and tears (group therapy) brings us so much closer and makes relationships so much more important. And getting my guests to share the corniest jokes they can think of while getting off my bus at the glacier leads to not only the most fun I have ever had on tour but the creation of the well wishing phrase: “I hope that you have such a whale of a time that it really seals the deal and you can bearly believe it! Juneau what? You otter come back next year!” And while NPR shares its music and I enjoy scooter rides with almost all my friends I think about how different, yet again, this summer is. And more importantly I find that it’s the little unique things that permeate the seams of my daily life which are setting the stage for my Alaskan dream, for the dream which I am living, the dream which will always be living inside me whether in Alaska or not. It’s taking advantage of every day, learning to love, really love, every person, and not neglecting the beauty that is constantly around you, even when you see it every day.