Behold! The launch of our new travel site: www.wanderlusting.info
It is still in its infancy, but check it out, subscribe, and let us know what you think! Anything travel-related will be appearing on Wanderlusting in lieu of The Breathing Room, but I'll update this on occasion with thoughts and musings!
Do let us know what you think. :)
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Monday, May 16, 2011
Hospitality Exchange Overview
One of the first discoveries that drove me to hit the road was that of hospitality exchanges. Essentially, these are online directories of generous people all around the world that are willing to open their doors and host you in their own home. It almost sounds too good to be true! Sometimes you will be sleeping on the floor, other times you’ll have room to yourself, but it’s free, and it is your ticket to experiencing the culture you are visiting in a more intimate way. In London, my host took me on an informal Jack the Ripper tour. In San Francisco, my host Kathleen took me hiking out to a beautiful lighthouse called Point Reyes that I would have otherwise missed. When in Seattle I hosted two sisters from Vienna and one woman from Paris, and we had a beautiful day at the beach playing guitar and ukulele, and ending the evening with a meal they cooked for me.
It is natural that people get excited about staying for free around the world, but the true emphasis in these communities is that of cultural exchange. Your hosts are bringing you into their lives, friendships, and sometimes even their families! Oftentimes they will serve as invaluable resources about their own city, culture, and language. If you decide to utilize these wonderful sites, please ensure that you are joining for the purpose of enriching your travel experience through local perspectives. While it is not necessary or expected, it is kind to make or buy dinner for your host, or perhaps buy a drink for them at a pub as a 'thank you.'
It is an added and wonderful perk that hospitality exchanges mean 'free accommodation,' but the more focus you place on the monetary savings these sites bring you, the less likely you are to fit well in these communities. I have met some of my dearest friends by hosting travelers and staying with locals this way, and it is because of this that I continue to do so. As a host, it gave me the excitement of meeting new and foreign people while I wasn’t able to travel myself.
-OVERVIEW of YOUR OPTIONS-
The most popular site by far is Couchsurfing though there are several other options available as well. Couchsurfing has the most aesthetically-appealing layout, the most safety features, the largest number of members (currently sitting at over 2 million), and is very user-friendly.
The second most popular option is Hospitality Club. This predates Couchsurfing and is a very welcoming community. It is a bit less attractive to the eyes, but is still a good option to use in many situations.
A few more sites with matching ideologies but smaller communities and (for whatever reason) a bit less of a following are: Stay4Free, Global Freeloaders, and Tripping.
All of the above-mentioned sites are free to join, though a few have optional ‘donation’ amounts.
-SAFETY-
When people first hear of these communities, they either rave about how wonderful the idea is, or shake their heads and say ‘it’s not for me.’ Whichever side of that coin you are on, we encourage you to read on. Upon first hearing of these sites, I was skeptical and found it all a bit dodgy. Wasn’t it foolish and dangerous?
The answer is no.
Like anything else in life, risks are involved. The same is true of driving to work every day, and if you plan to travel, there will always be something that can go wrong. The key is to utilize the safety features on these sites, and to send your requests to the right individuals.
As a woman, I often hosted travelers while living alone and also stayed in many homes through hospitality exchanges while on my own. When I was traveling solo, often using Couchsurfing, I would only send requests to families, couples, or females. In addition, I would only request to stay with those that had ample references. I can guarantee that most men on these sites are genuinely good people, but why add risk that isn’t necessary?
By following these safety steps, your personal welfare will be greatly enhanced:
1. If you are a woman alone, do not send requests to single men or groups of men living together, unless their references are ample enough to give you confidence in their character.
2. Read references carefully. Are most of their references from hosting or traveling, or just from people they met at gatherings?
3. Follow your instincts. If you meet them and feel uneasy, or if you feel uncomfortable in their home, find a way to leave the situation immediately. It’s always better to spend money on a hotel or hostel than to put your safety at risk.
4. Do your homework. Read their profile so you know what to expect, and send messages to people that left them references if you have any doubts. This is fairly common. Make sure to have a phone with you at all times in case of emergencies, and always have a back-up plan in case a host doesn’t feel safe or in case they have to cancel on you for some reason.
-ETIQUETTE-
Your success in these hospitality exchanges will depend mostly on one thing – your etiquette.
If you join Couchsurfing, for instance, there is a certain way to go about sending requests that will greatly increase your odds of getting hosted, especially in major cities where hosts are flooded daily with requests.
First and foremost, fill out your profile. When you are starting out with no references, this is imperative. Why would someone allow you into their home with no information about you whatsoever? Put yourself in their shoes. When I first began using hospitality exchanges, I filled out my profile extensively, with even more details than I thought necessary. Almost no host I have ever met will host you if you have not uploaded a current photo as well.
Read profiles carefully before sending a request. What type of person are you, and how will you mesh with their lifestyle? It’s all common sense – but you miss the details if you skip reading profiles. If you are conservative in beliefs and actions, avoid those that mention alcohol, drugs or partying. By the same token, if you are a party animal you should avoid requesting people that have an early work schedule or conflicting beliefs. If you smoke, yet you see in the profile that ‘no smokers may stay here,’ then do not request to stay with them!
Do NOT send the same request copied and pasted to several hosts. This will not only prove you have no interest in who you stay with, but also that you aren’t considerate of hosts that will accept you and clear your schedule. What if more than one responds? As a host, it was frustrating to receive a request, approve it, then arrange my schedule accordingly… only to find my guest was already taken care of!
Once you have selected a host, send a request that is personalized, lengthy, and descriptive of who you are and why you want to meet them. A good length is usually 3-4 paragraphs, though everyone has their own style. I spend the first paragraph introducing myself, why I am traveling to their area, and what inspired me to take my trip. The second, I usually mention what stood out to me in their profile and reasons I think we would be a great fit. This could be similar musical or political interests, countries they have visited that you would like to visit, or anything you feel you would have in common to talk about or enjoy. In the third paragraph, I let them know that as a ‘thank you,’ I would be happy to cook a meal for them or treat them to a drink at a pub. I also usually say something along these lines: ‘Even if you aren’t able to host me, I would still really enjoy meeting you to have you show me around your favorite parts of town if you have the time.’ This is just a breakdown of the method I tend to use; be sure that if you use this format you are honest and do not just add things about yourself to increase your odds. Honesty and a genuine interest in meeting them will go far.
-Tips and Tricks-
-Try not to request the busiest hosts, or the ones that come up at the top of the queue with 300 references! These hosts are often busier and your chances of getting hosted are slim. Try for hosts that seem eager to host but haven’t had as much experience.
-I can’t say this enough – have a completed profile!
-Avoid asking hosts or people you meet to ‘vouch’ for you, or ‘trust’ you. The vouching system works only because you may only vouch for people you have met and trust beyond the shadow of a doubt. Asking puts people in an uncomfortable position. Requesting references however, is something else altogether, though I still wouldn’t necessarily go around asking for them. Some people will reference you, and some will not; some people are more diligent at leaving references than others.
-To get started with references, join local groups and attend meetups. Remember though to only reference them if you felt you spend sufficient time with them. Couchsurfing has the best ‘Group’ tool of any of these sites. You simply go to the ‘Community’ tab, and search for whatever city you are heading. Most larger cities like London, Paris, and Dublin have weekly meetups that are fabulous.
-If someone hosts you, promptly leave them a reference. Don’t wait months! They took time out of their busy life to have you in their home, so pay them their respect!
-Have fun. These communities have changed my life. I wouldn’t be traveling as happily without them. They broaden your horizons and open up local perspectives!
It is natural that people get excited about staying for free around the world, but the true emphasis in these communities is that of cultural exchange. Your hosts are bringing you into their lives, friendships, and sometimes even their families! Oftentimes they will serve as invaluable resources about their own city, culture, and language. If you decide to utilize these wonderful sites, please ensure that you are joining for the purpose of enriching your travel experience through local perspectives. While it is not necessary or expected, it is kind to make or buy dinner for your host, or perhaps buy a drink for them at a pub as a 'thank you.'
It is an added and wonderful perk that hospitality exchanges mean 'free accommodation,' but the more focus you place on the monetary savings these sites bring you, the less likely you are to fit well in these communities. I have met some of my dearest friends by hosting travelers and staying with locals this way, and it is because of this that I continue to do so. As a host, it gave me the excitement of meeting new and foreign people while I wasn’t able to travel myself.
-OVERVIEW of YOUR OPTIONS-
The most popular site by far is Couchsurfing though there are several other options available as well. Couchsurfing has the most aesthetically-appealing layout, the most safety features, the largest number of members (currently sitting at over 2 million), and is very user-friendly.
The second most popular option is Hospitality Club. This predates Couchsurfing and is a very welcoming community. It is a bit less attractive to the eyes, but is still a good option to use in many situations.
A few more sites with matching ideologies but smaller communities and (for whatever reason) a bit less of a following are: Stay4Free, Global Freeloaders, and Tripping.
All of the above-mentioned sites are free to join, though a few have optional ‘donation’ amounts.
-SAFETY-
When people first hear of these communities, they either rave about how wonderful the idea is, or shake their heads and say ‘it’s not for me.’ Whichever side of that coin you are on, we encourage you to read on. Upon first hearing of these sites, I was skeptical and found it all a bit dodgy. Wasn’t it foolish and dangerous?
The answer is no.
Like anything else in life, risks are involved. The same is true of driving to work every day, and if you plan to travel, there will always be something that can go wrong. The key is to utilize the safety features on these sites, and to send your requests to the right individuals.
As a woman, I often hosted travelers while living alone and also stayed in many homes through hospitality exchanges while on my own. When I was traveling solo, often using Couchsurfing, I would only send requests to families, couples, or females. In addition, I would only request to stay with those that had ample references. I can guarantee that most men on these sites are genuinely good people, but why add risk that isn’t necessary?
By following these safety steps, your personal welfare will be greatly enhanced:
1. If you are a woman alone, do not send requests to single men or groups of men living together, unless their references are ample enough to give you confidence in their character.
2. Read references carefully. Are most of their references from hosting or traveling, or just from people they met at gatherings?
3. Follow your instincts. If you meet them and feel uneasy, or if you feel uncomfortable in their home, find a way to leave the situation immediately. It’s always better to spend money on a hotel or hostel than to put your safety at risk.
4. Do your homework. Read their profile so you know what to expect, and send messages to people that left them references if you have any doubts. This is fairly common. Make sure to have a phone with you at all times in case of emergencies, and always have a back-up plan in case a host doesn’t feel safe or in case they have to cancel on you for some reason.
-ETIQUETTE-
Your success in these hospitality exchanges will depend mostly on one thing – your etiquette.
If you join Couchsurfing, for instance, there is a certain way to go about sending requests that will greatly increase your odds of getting hosted, especially in major cities where hosts are flooded daily with requests.
First and foremost, fill out your profile. When you are starting out with no references, this is imperative. Why would someone allow you into their home with no information about you whatsoever? Put yourself in their shoes. When I first began using hospitality exchanges, I filled out my profile extensively, with even more details than I thought necessary. Almost no host I have ever met will host you if you have not uploaded a current photo as well.
Read profiles carefully before sending a request. What type of person are you, and how will you mesh with their lifestyle? It’s all common sense – but you miss the details if you skip reading profiles. If you are conservative in beliefs and actions, avoid those that mention alcohol, drugs or partying. By the same token, if you are a party animal you should avoid requesting people that have an early work schedule or conflicting beliefs. If you smoke, yet you see in the profile that ‘no smokers may stay here,’ then do not request to stay with them!
Do NOT send the same request copied and pasted to several hosts. This will not only prove you have no interest in who you stay with, but also that you aren’t considerate of hosts that will accept you and clear your schedule. What if more than one responds? As a host, it was frustrating to receive a request, approve it, then arrange my schedule accordingly… only to find my guest was already taken care of!
Once you have selected a host, send a request that is personalized, lengthy, and descriptive of who you are and why you want to meet them. A good length is usually 3-4 paragraphs, though everyone has their own style. I spend the first paragraph introducing myself, why I am traveling to their area, and what inspired me to take my trip. The second, I usually mention what stood out to me in their profile and reasons I think we would be a great fit. This could be similar musical or political interests, countries they have visited that you would like to visit, or anything you feel you would have in common to talk about or enjoy. In the third paragraph, I let them know that as a ‘thank you,’ I would be happy to cook a meal for them or treat them to a drink at a pub. I also usually say something along these lines: ‘Even if you aren’t able to host me, I would still really enjoy meeting you to have you show me around your favorite parts of town if you have the time.’ This is just a breakdown of the method I tend to use; be sure that if you use this format you are honest and do not just add things about yourself to increase your odds. Honesty and a genuine interest in meeting them will go far.
-Tips and Tricks-
-Try not to request the busiest hosts, or the ones that come up at the top of the queue with 300 references! These hosts are often busier and your chances of getting hosted are slim. Try for hosts that seem eager to host but haven’t had as much experience.
-I can’t say this enough – have a completed profile!
-Avoid asking hosts or people you meet to ‘vouch’ for you, or ‘trust’ you. The vouching system works only because you may only vouch for people you have met and trust beyond the shadow of a doubt. Asking puts people in an uncomfortable position. Requesting references however, is something else altogether, though I still wouldn’t necessarily go around asking for them. Some people will reference you, and some will not; some people are more diligent at leaving references than others.
-To get started with references, join local groups and attend meetups. Remember though to only reference them if you felt you spend sufficient time with them. Couchsurfing has the best ‘Group’ tool of any of these sites. You simply go to the ‘Community’ tab, and search for whatever city you are heading. Most larger cities like London, Paris, and Dublin have weekly meetups that are fabulous.
-If someone hosts you, promptly leave them a reference. Don’t wait months! They took time out of their busy life to have you in their home, so pay them their respect!
-Have fun. These communities have changed my life. I wouldn’t be traveling as happily without them. They broaden your horizons and open up local perspectives!
Saturday, May 14, 2011
on Wanderlusting
There are many of you who have followed my blog over the last few years, and I am so thankful! It has been my pleasure to follow some of yours as well. I have some exciting news and changes to share with you. The Breathing Room has been the online home of my thoughts since several years ago, and I’ve been feeling lately the need to change this home to something more relevant and current to what my life holds in it now.
When Kurt and I decided to go all in and travel a few months ago, we had the seeds of an idea that could be something great and wonderful, and it is now on the verge of being realized! I receive questions and comments frequently about how people wish they could travel like we do, to stay with locals, to find cheap airline fares, to work for room and board, and embark on long-term travel adventures of their own. The problem is that as humans we get caught up in the ‘if only’ trap. If only I had more money, if only I could get the time off work, if only it were possible for me. It’s endless really – and if we continue to put our dreams on hold, we may never realize them at all.
I myself was trapped in that mindset for a few years; wanting to see the world but waiting for the opportune time. I was dangerously close to settling for what was comfortable instead of taking the initial leap of faith and just DOING it! In a matter of three months I have taken control and transformed what was a mundane, normal existence into something I’m proud to call my life! Now I am living my dream – helping to run a hostel in an Irish village where I hear Gaelic spoken daily and am a moment’s walk from the sea.
It took me years of researching how to attempt long-term travel. I found countless websites and blogs, all with tidbits of helpful information, but none containing everything I needed to get started. That is when the ‘seed’ for our idea began.
I am pleased to announce that soon our travel site called Wanderlusting will be launched! Beyond just featuring blogs from Kurt and me, it will also have many different elements to help others get started on their own travel adventure. It will cover the gamut – working for room and board, sleeping in local homes, safety while hitchhiking or ridesharing, how to obtain your visas, and most of all how to get this whole process started for YOU. Eventually, I also plan to offer my cheap-flight-finding prowess for a nominal fee (maybe 30-50 USD), to get you that much-needed ticket abroad.
I will continue to post here on The Breathing Room until the launch, and will keep you up to date on when that launch will be.
Thanks for reading – I’m excited to see you on Wanderlusting.
When Kurt and I decided to go all in and travel a few months ago, we had the seeds of an idea that could be something great and wonderful, and it is now on the verge of being realized! I receive questions and comments frequently about how people wish they could travel like we do, to stay with locals, to find cheap airline fares, to work for room and board, and embark on long-term travel adventures of their own. The problem is that as humans we get caught up in the ‘if only’ trap. If only I had more money, if only I could get the time off work, if only it were possible for me. It’s endless really – and if we continue to put our dreams on hold, we may never realize them at all.
I myself was trapped in that mindset for a few years; wanting to see the world but waiting for the opportune time. I was dangerously close to settling for what was comfortable instead of taking the initial leap of faith and just DOING it! In a matter of three months I have taken control and transformed what was a mundane, normal existence into something I’m proud to call my life! Now I am living my dream – helping to run a hostel in an Irish village where I hear Gaelic spoken daily and am a moment’s walk from the sea.
It took me years of researching how to attempt long-term travel. I found countless websites and blogs, all with tidbits of helpful information, but none containing everything I needed to get started. That is when the ‘seed’ for our idea began.
I am pleased to announce that soon our travel site called Wanderlusting will be launched! Beyond just featuring blogs from Kurt and me, it will also have many different elements to help others get started on their own travel adventure. It will cover the gamut – working for room and board, sleeping in local homes, safety while hitchhiking or ridesharing, how to obtain your visas, and most of all how to get this whole process started for YOU. Eventually, I also plan to offer my cheap-flight-finding prowess for a nominal fee (maybe 30-50 USD), to get you that much-needed ticket abroad.
I will continue to post here on The Breathing Room until the launch, and will keep you up to date on when that launch will be.
Thanks for reading – I’m excited to see you on Wanderlusting.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
on existing in London
Existing in London this past week has brought this recurring, refreshing feeling.
My first thought upon waking is always of where I am (England), how I got here (The Picadilly Line or a double-decker red bus), with whom I am staying (lovely people), and whether or not I am excited to be awake (yes). I can't help but be overwhelmed by the sense that this is The Beginning; that everything about my life and the way that I live it is in the midst of a great change. I can almost feel the paradigms shifting around in my brain. This is the life! I am finally on the road! Living off of hummus, cheese, bread, and vegetables has never felt so rich and filling.
I've been reading more from one of my favorite nomadic authors, who continually inspires me. "I was excited when I realized I didn’t have to do it the way they thought I should. I could design my own life, one that fit my dreams. There is more than one way to do life and I was going to discover one that worked for me." (Rita Golden Gelman) I like her very much, and that fact seems so lost on so many people. Life can be however you want to be; the world's prescribed plan for success and happiness is not 'one size fits all.' It was never meant to be so. True, there is a marked pathway to achieve a secure, normal life, and that in itself makes many people incredibly happy, which is wonderful. I am content to realize, now, that if I choose a different pathway, it makes me no less of a success or a failure.
Yes, I am in The Beginning of this era of wandering, and I enjoy it immensely.
Of course, I must take into account the realism of it all so it won't catch me by surprise later: I am essentially homeless in a foreign land, the days will not always be easy ones, I miss my family and friends, and everything I carry with me weighs less than 20 pounds (I weighed it this morning). I am under no illusion that this will be a perfect journey. Things will not always go smoothly, and I'm sure upon my first illness I will wish I was on my mother's couch at home.
What is close to perfection, however, is waking up in London, wandering neighborhoods I fall in love with, meeting great-hearted people, and being at the very beginning of a long and beautiful road.
I do so like beginnings.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Seattle to New York
The First Month on the Road
March 2011
I never used to be impressed when I looked at a map of the United States. It was just home. This was, of course, prior to my vehicular adventure across the breadth of the nation during the worst blizzard of the year. Let's just say my appreciation for America's sheer immensity has changed. I have also learned that nothing stretches out a road trip quite like having a hysterical cat in a carrier for the first time, meowing his opinion to you the entire way.
Kurt and I set out from Seattle and headed east toward Idaho, where we spent a few days reminiscing with close friends and family and arranging our ducks in a nice, neat row. There is nothing in life as refreshing to me as familiar company after time apart. I relished in the moments we spent catching up with one another at The Garden Lounge, wishing more faces had shown up, but at the same time thankful for the small nature of the group.
Bozeman, Montana was next. Feet upon feet of snow covered Lookout Pass on either side of the road, and I clutched the steering wheel with white knuckles until we finally pulled into town at 11:30pm. Our host in Bozeman was Kate, a lovely woman in her 50's who was gracious enough to make us feel right at home. We discussed the fascism of Palin, the beauty of intercultural exchange, and explored the local Coop's selection of delicious hummus. Though far from a major city, Bozeman struck me as more alive than most places I have ever lived. It felt young, fresh, and awake. The streets were buzzing with activity long after I expected, and local shops beckoned with their unique facades and interesting window displays. I was given a lesson by Kate on making bread, and she generously sent us on our way with one loaf and homeade rasberry jam.
Following Montana we made an ambitious attempt to arrive in Sioux Falls, South Dakota the next evening. When setting out on our twelve hour drive it seemed plausible, though we realized in mid-Wyoming our critical error. Winter in the American Midwest will now and forever be likened in my mind to Siberia. Though my knowledge of Siberia is severely uninformed, I imagine (with my severely uninformed mind) that I am right on the money. Wind chill taken into consideration, it was -10 degrees (F) most of the way, and froze our antifreeze windshield fluid, speaking for itself. Wipers malfunctioned, ice built up so badly that it scraped the tires if we turned, the powdery snow would turn into a whiteout without warning, and we were the slowest car on the road by about 25 miles per hour. Once deciding to find a hotel room once we reached Gillette, Wyoming, sixty miles down the road, it maddeningly took us more than two hours to arrive.
A day behind schedule, we arrived in Sioux Falls at our host Pam's house. She educated us about where our blood goes once we donate it, and treated our weary tummies to some delightful eggs and toast the morning. We arrived in Iowa City on Fat Tuesday, staying up late with our hosts MaryAlice and Diego sharing videos, microbrews, and great conversation.
The entirety of our stay in Madison, Wisonsin simply cannot be covered here, as we protested with 200,000 people against the stripping away of union rights under the guise of budget cuts. I learned more about democracy and injustice in those few days than I planned. Our hosts Ralph and Alma were perfectly happy to come down the Capitol, fill us in on Lithuanian beer and Wisconsin cheese, as well as the illegal actions of the Republicans in the state. Though FOX News would have the public believe otherwise, there was hardly a soul in favor of Governor Walker. I knew the network was biased to an extreme, though now I know beyond a doubt that they blatantly, intentionally lie. There was not a scratch on the Capitol - no $7.5 million in damages, no violence, no vandalism. The protesters and security stood chatting and debating, while those wanting inside the Capitol waited in a calm, respectful line. There existed no protestors who "weren't leaving peacefully." Very sad, indeed.
We were met in Cleveland by Liz, whose groovy abode and great attitude enchanted me immedietely. As with all our hosts, it seems, our time with her was too short. She took us to a dive bar where a sign told us 'Please do not feed the crackheads.' Before departing the next day for New York, we stopped in at a local diner and I caught my first glimpse at the Great Lakes.
Just when I thought we were home free and almost to Long Island, I experienced Kurt driving us on the Cross Bronx through Manhattan. Suffice it to say that I wasn't sure we would make it. We did, however! I caught a sideways glimpse at the Empire State Building before deciding that looking forward was better than imagining certain death. Walking into Kurt's family home and dropping our bags felt fabulous.
Things I have learned:
-I hate toll roads/bridges/booths
-Do not travel with a cat
-If you must travel with a cat, get a muzzle
-Wyoming is intensely empty
-Gas prices are horrible
-Ohio really shouldn't charge so much to drive on their roads
-EZ Pass toll lanes on the Throg's Neck bridge are going to ticket us
-I like Cleveland
-Couchsurfing remains my favorite social networking tool
Tomorrow, LONDON!
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
on going, going, going.... introspective!
You have heard it before. It's time to go; I am off once again.
Each time I enter a new phase in life, I tend to look back and write about nostalgia filling my soul, and memories fresh in my heart. I tend to dwell on what I leave behind and less on the path before me. I say my goodbyes. I give my thanks. I tip my hat to those who inspired and changed me. I usually deem it necessary to write an epitaph, if you will, of the era of my life coming to a close. Seemingly yesterday I left Moscow for Seattle; already this season has reached its end. The months fly by, whether we wish them away or not. Next week, I am off to New York. Next month, I am off to Europe. Tonight, however, I am in awe of what this year has taught me, and what each year continues to unfold within me.
I've wondered what purpose memories serve, and why they have the ability to move us so deeply. Why is it that something as simple as a song or a face can bring you back to a place you hadn't thought of in months? What is it within us that reaches out for years gone by? Nostalgia upsets me at times. What right has it to make me discontent with the present? Why does it pull at the strings of my heart? Who gave it that authority? The mind boggles, really. My mind does, at least.
Upon Nostalgia's arrival every so often, I physically ache for the past. I long for people I am missing, people with whom I have disconnected or lost touch, or entire seasons of life that are no more. Some of my greatest friendships have passed. Most of the people I've met since childhood have no bearing on who I am today. Despite the wonders of modern technology and the advent of social networking, I remain suprisingly distant from the majority of those I've encountered on my journey thusfar, at least beyond the superficial layers.
This whole arrangement strikes me as odd, really. We invest ourselves in one another, whether in relationships, intimacies, or friendships, while knowing someplace in the back of our minds that parting ways is inevitable. As dark as this sounds, what purpose does it all serve then? One definition of 'stupidity' is doing the same thing again and again, expecting a different outcome. Are we inherently stupid, or is there a reason beneath the obvious?
I think the answer - for me, at least - is this: My most prominent memories are often those where I showed my true character, rose high above, found success in lieu of defeat, and been the greatest possible version of myself. My greatest friends in life have answered my midnight calls, laughed with me in the beautiful times, held me when dreams shattered, and challenged me in the meantimes. Whether or not they are near now makes no difference - they mattered. I think perhaps memories and nostalgia exist not to give us sadness, or longing for what is gone. I think they are there to remind us that life consists of seasons. Some seasons will inspire us immensely; some will be uphill climbs. All are essential to shaping us.
Maybe moments and people resurface in our minds to bring us to a more full understanding of the here and now. Maybe we lose life's lessons if we take them out of context. No moment stands alone. Like dominoes falling one after another, the beginning ultimately begets the end result. Even if it's difficult to connect the dots, life makes those connections on its own.
It has been some time since I have written with the microscope facing my heart instead of politics, my travel plans, or any number of superficial things. That being the case, it took me three hours to get this blasted thought process from my brain and into black and white. Apologies for any nonsense, inconclusions, or improper grammar. I did my best, really, I did. All of this was to say - I am thankful to this season. I am thankful to last season. I am especially thankful for the season that awaits me... a one-way ticket across an ocean with plenty of lessons and inspirations on the other side.
In any case... onward!
Each time I enter a new phase in life, I tend to look back and write about nostalgia filling my soul, and memories fresh in my heart. I tend to dwell on what I leave behind and less on the path before me. I say my goodbyes. I give my thanks. I tip my hat to those who inspired and changed me. I usually deem it necessary to write an epitaph, if you will, of the era of my life coming to a close. Seemingly yesterday I left Moscow for Seattle; already this season has reached its end. The months fly by, whether we wish them away or not. Next week, I am off to New York. Next month, I am off to Europe. Tonight, however, I am in awe of what this year has taught me, and what each year continues to unfold within me.
I've wondered what purpose memories serve, and why they have the ability to move us so deeply. Why is it that something as simple as a song or a face can bring you back to a place you hadn't thought of in months? What is it within us that reaches out for years gone by? Nostalgia upsets me at times. What right has it to make me discontent with the present? Why does it pull at the strings of my heart? Who gave it that authority? The mind boggles, really. My mind does, at least.
Upon Nostalgia's arrival every so often, I physically ache for the past. I long for people I am missing, people with whom I have disconnected or lost touch, or entire seasons of life that are no more. Some of my greatest friendships have passed. Most of the people I've met since childhood have no bearing on who I am today. Despite the wonders of modern technology and the advent of social networking, I remain suprisingly distant from the majority of those I've encountered on my journey thusfar, at least beyond the superficial layers.
This whole arrangement strikes me as odd, really. We invest ourselves in one another, whether in relationships, intimacies, or friendships, while knowing someplace in the back of our minds that parting ways is inevitable. As dark as this sounds, what purpose does it all serve then? One definition of 'stupidity' is doing the same thing again and again, expecting a different outcome. Are we inherently stupid, or is there a reason beneath the obvious?
I think the answer - for me, at least - is this: My most prominent memories are often those where I showed my true character, rose high above, found success in lieu of defeat, and been the greatest possible version of myself. My greatest friends in life have answered my midnight calls, laughed with me in the beautiful times, held me when dreams shattered, and challenged me in the meantimes. Whether or not they are near now makes no difference - they mattered. I think perhaps memories and nostalgia exist not to give us sadness, or longing for what is gone. I think they are there to remind us that life consists of seasons. Some seasons will inspire us immensely; some will be uphill climbs. All are essential to shaping us.
Maybe moments and people resurface in our minds to bring us to a more full understanding of the here and now. Maybe we lose life's lessons if we take them out of context. No moment stands alone. Like dominoes falling one after another, the beginning ultimately begets the end result. Even if it's difficult to connect the dots, life makes those connections on its own.
It has been some time since I have written with the microscope facing my heart instead of politics, my travel plans, or any number of superficial things. That being the case, it took me three hours to get this blasted thought process from my brain and into black and white. Apologies for any nonsense, inconclusions, or improper grammar. I did my best, really, I did. All of this was to say - I am thankful to this season. I am thankful to last season. I am especially thankful for the season that awaits me... a one-way ticket across an ocean with plenty of lessons and inspirations on the other side.
In any case... onward!
Monday, February 7, 2011
Our Diabolical Plan. Mission: Earth.
The die has been cast, my friends!
Notice has been given to our landlord, passports are ready, temporary jobs have been found til March, tax returns are in our bank accounts, cheap tickets have been found, and all wheels are set in motion for what is bound to be a life-changing adventure. It begins next month, when we will road trip across the states to see Kurt's family in New York. From there we will depart into the great, mysterious, unexplored realms of - you guessed it - Europe! We will boldly go into this uncharted territory, and put into motion (starts 'Jaws' theme) 'Kurt and Dayna's Diabolical Plan.' We are quitting our habit of cigarettes using Quit for Life over the next few weeks, eliminating that expense and health risk as well.
We want to start in Europe, working our way across the continent in an easterly direction toward Greece and ultimately Turkey. A flight to Southeast Asia may be in order from there, depending on many factors including who we meet along the way. We plan on a low-maintenence, no-frills experience on a mission to enrich our lives meeting as many beautiful people as possible, soaking in the local cultures and languages as we go. We will use Couchsurfing while in the cities, working on organic farms and homestays for room and board in the countryside along our way. We plan on visiting many of you that have graced our couches and lives over the last year and a half, and are so excited to see you again.
With Kurt's site-building expertise, we will soon have an amazing and aesthetically-pleasing travel weblog up and running, including photos and videos of our travels, stories from the road, photos of our hosts and host families and a map that shows where we have been and are planning to go. You can subscribe to the feed, comment using your Facebook account, see our beaming faces, or donate as little as $1 at a time to buy us our daily cup of joe if you so desire. Expect titles of my blogs to be interesting things you will enjoy and laugh at, like: 'Learning to Milk a Cow in Croatia,' 'Hooping in Hungary,' or 'Failing to Speak a Local Language While in Search of a Bathroom.'
We are excited. Stay tuned for more updates and ways we can keep you involved!
Much love.
Dayna and Kurt
ALSO, apparently diabolical means evil or relating to the devil. I thought it meant spectacularly clever. Apparently I was misinformed. This should read 'Our Spectacularly Clever and In No Way Related to Evil Plan'. Just throwing that out there.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
on 2011
That time of year has rolled around yet again for me to make a conscious effort to dwell on the coming twelve months. Though I am seven days late, I am sure it is better to write this late than not at all! Aspirations, goals, and hopes for my life in 2011 (in no order whatsoever):
Begin to connect all the things the past few years has taught me and put them into action.
I have learned that when I teach myself a new skill, I essentially become smarter, as my brain grows new neural pathways. I want to do my best to learn new skills, even if others think they are silly, like poi and hoop dance.
Stop smoking... self explanatory!
Write some damn good music and enjoy every minute of it! Preferably one song per month minimum.
Grow a bit closer to my own spirit, peer inwards a little more often, and consiously praise all the great qualities I have.
Live on an organic farm and learn how to homestead; get my hands dirty. If I get grossed out, I will tell myself that I will thank myself after peak oil hits! Learn to make cheese, soap, wine, or whatever else strikes my fancy (like planting kale that doesn't die).
Take the plunge: sell what I can, buy a one way ticket, and start living out my dreams one country (and ridiculous visa fee) at a time. When money runs low - busk with guitar or ukelele... or fire hooping. Which brings me to:
Fire hooping!! Shortly therafter start spinning fire with my poi.
Continue the trend I started this year of reading as often as possible!
Meet and encourage as many people as possible, whether on the 358 bus headed toward downtown Seattle or the person in line next to me.
Soak in the great and epic moments and friendships, and be present when they are happening.
Happy New Year of 2011 to all, I love you.
Begin to connect all the things the past few years has taught me and put them into action.
I have learned that when I teach myself a new skill, I essentially become smarter, as my brain grows new neural pathways. I want to do my best to learn new skills, even if others think they are silly, like poi and hoop dance.
Stop smoking... self explanatory!
Write some damn good music and enjoy every minute of it! Preferably one song per month minimum.
Grow a bit closer to my own spirit, peer inwards a little more often, and consiously praise all the great qualities I have.
Live on an organic farm and learn how to homestead; get my hands dirty. If I get grossed out, I will tell myself that I will thank myself after peak oil hits! Learn to make cheese, soap, wine, or whatever else strikes my fancy (like planting kale that doesn't die).
Take the plunge: sell what I can, buy a one way ticket, and start living out my dreams one country (and ridiculous visa fee) at a time. When money runs low - busk with guitar or ukelele... or fire hooping. Which brings me to:
Fire hooping!! Shortly therafter start spinning fire with my poi.
Continue the trend I started this year of reading as often as possible!
Meet and encourage as many people as possible, whether on the 358 bus headed toward downtown Seattle or the person in line next to me.
Soak in the great and epic moments and friendships, and be present when they are happening.
Happy New Year of 2011 to all, I love you.
Friday, October 15, 2010
on spinning the other direction
Today I tried something a bit different... for me, anyway.
I woke up to the most beautiful, mystical morning. The air felt crisp and smelled of autumn and the sky was clear. I stuck my head out the window like a little kid, excited to see if it would be nice enough for me to hoopdance outside on my day off of work. It was. I was elated.
I have been having a bit of trouble with my lower back, just aches and dull pain since I began to hoopdance two months ago. I decided it was my lack of stretching, so I began to stretch before, during and after my hoop sessions. This failed to solve the problem, so I went to the online community of hoopers to ask for help. It turned out that what I really needed was fairly simple. To spin the hoop the other way.
This will mean absolutely nothing to most people (which is understandable), but everyone who dances with a hoop has a favored direction, their 'hoop direction.' I hoop to the right. What my back needed was for me to hoop to the left sometimes. Caroleeena, an esteemed hoopdance teacher, put it this way:
"Hooping in both directions not only develops both sides of your abdominals (and who wants a three pack, am I right?) and both sides of your back muscles, it supports your spine, increases your balance, helps you find your Center, allows you to move freely in all directions and to learn new movements faster as it re-wires the neural pathways in your brain, effectively making you smarter. It enhances your ability to do every pattern-related thing in your life, including but not limited to music, dancing, drumming, mathematics, planning and organizing."
So I picked up my hoop and spun it to the left.
At first it was awkward, uncomfortable, and difficult. I felt taken back to my first day hooping, when I spent an entire day locked in my room, bound and determined to be a part of this 'hooping thing.' Every step was filled with flailing arms, falling hoops and broken wall decor. I was dripping in sweat, exhausted, but I told myself that I wouldn't take 'no I can't do this' for an answer.
By the end of two or three songs, I could literally feel my back muscles thanking me for finally figuring it out. It felt almost refreshing. Suddenly I didn't have to worry about dropping anymore, and my muscles got comfortable doing something new and weird. I did it! I changed my direction! Shortly thereafter I ran out into the patch of sunshine in my yard and attacked the practice with my mini hoops that had me so discouraged yesterday.
I was inspired by today. I was inspired by myself, by my perseverance in doing what feels impossible right now, but will yield unbelievable results down the road.
Dear Me-Next-Time-You-Even-Think-About-Quitting:
Always seize the opportunity to try something a different, something a little uncomfortable. Put yourself out there and decide that you will get it down. Maybe not today, and maybe not this week. But you will. You can always lean on the many things you already know as encouragement to keep going. Besides, you thought you would never be able to hoop at the shoulders or do the vortex, and now you rock them. Love, Me
I woke up to the most beautiful, mystical morning. The air felt crisp and smelled of autumn and the sky was clear. I stuck my head out the window like a little kid, excited to see if it would be nice enough for me to hoopdance outside on my day off of work. It was. I was elated.
I have been having a bit of trouble with my lower back, just aches and dull pain since I began to hoopdance two months ago. I decided it was my lack of stretching, so I began to stretch before, during and after my hoop sessions. This failed to solve the problem, so I went to the online community of hoopers to ask for help. It turned out that what I really needed was fairly simple. To spin the hoop the other way.
This will mean absolutely nothing to most people (which is understandable), but everyone who dances with a hoop has a favored direction, their 'hoop direction.' I hoop to the right. What my back needed was for me to hoop to the left sometimes. Caroleeena, an esteemed hoopdance teacher, put it this way:
"Hooping in both directions not only develops both sides of your abdominals (and who wants a three pack, am I right?) and both sides of your back muscles, it supports your spine, increases your balance, helps you find your Center, allows you to move freely in all directions and to learn new movements faster as it re-wires the neural pathways in your brain, effectively making you smarter. It enhances your ability to do every pattern-related thing in your life, including but not limited to music, dancing, drumming, mathematics, planning and organizing."
So I picked up my hoop and spun it to the left.
At first it was awkward, uncomfortable, and difficult. I felt taken back to my first day hooping, when I spent an entire day locked in my room, bound and determined to be a part of this 'hooping thing.' Every step was filled with flailing arms, falling hoops and broken wall decor. I was dripping in sweat, exhausted, but I told myself that I wouldn't take 'no I can't do this' for an answer.
By the end of two or three songs, I could literally feel my back muscles thanking me for finally figuring it out. It felt almost refreshing. Suddenly I didn't have to worry about dropping anymore, and my muscles got comfortable doing something new and weird. I did it! I changed my direction! Shortly thereafter I ran out into the patch of sunshine in my yard and attacked the practice with my mini hoops that had me so discouraged yesterday.
I was inspired by today. I was inspired by myself, by my perseverance in doing what feels impossible right now, but will yield unbelievable results down the road.
Dear Me-Next-Time-You-Even-Think-About-Quitting:
Always seize the opportunity to try something a different, something a little uncomfortable. Put yourself out there and decide that you will get it down. Maybe not today, and maybe not this week. But you will. You can always lean on the many things you already know as encouragement to keep going. Besides, you thought you would never be able to hoop at the shoulders or do the vortex, and now you rock them. Love, Me
Saturday, September 25, 2010
on hooping, day 45
I have nailed it!
No, I am not talking about hooping in the general sense. More importantly, I have reached the point in my hooping where it feels meditative, beautiful, personal and calming. I feel refreshed when I hoop. I am comfortable enough now that I don't have to pay attention always, and I can use it as a way to wind down and be with myself. Even after a twelve hour shift waiting tables and walking all day, nothing settles my senses and spirit like hooping.
I have to say: I started hooping to do beautiful things with a hoop, not necessarily to make my body more beautiful. But HOLY COW. Now I understand why people passionate about sports have so much fun while doing them, it just never really applied to me or my spirit. I left sports the very moment it started to matter whether we won or lost, I just don't have the competition appetite.
Weight isn't of huge important to me, whether in myself or others. But feeling wonderful and having the energy and health to love life matters. I started hooping to hoop. That being said, I fit in a pair of jeans I haven't worn in over a year because they felt too tight. Not only that, but they are pretty baggy. Epic win.
Benefits of hooping go far beyond the ability to do some mind-boggling tricks and dances.
It is empowering in so many ways. I have stamina. I can see muscles I didn't know existed. I have confidence. I have a skill I wasn't capable of before. I am learning what it's like to get to know yourself, spend time with your own spirit and be happy with who you find at the end of the day... really happy. There is also the added benefit of the huge community of encouraging hoopers, experienced and novice alike to inspire you on your journey. Not only that, but people get excited with you when you inspire them in return.
When I explain hooping to others, they do not usually understand. When I show hooping to others, they must get a hoop of their own. It is that simple and it is that addicting.
I never thought spinning and dancing with irrigation tubing would be so enlightening, empowering and free.
Thank you to my body! Thank you to my hoop!
-----
If you have no idea what I'm talking about, you should visit:
http://www.hooping.org/
No, I am not talking about hooping in the general sense. More importantly, I have reached the point in my hooping where it feels meditative, beautiful, personal and calming. I feel refreshed when I hoop. I am comfortable enough now that I don't have to pay attention always, and I can use it as a way to wind down and be with myself. Even after a twelve hour shift waiting tables and walking all day, nothing settles my senses and spirit like hooping.
I have to say: I started hooping to do beautiful things with a hoop, not necessarily to make my body more beautiful. But HOLY COW. Now I understand why people passionate about sports have so much fun while doing them, it just never really applied to me or my spirit. I left sports the very moment it started to matter whether we won or lost, I just don't have the competition appetite.
Weight isn't of huge important to me, whether in myself or others. But feeling wonderful and having the energy and health to love life matters. I started hooping to hoop. That being said, I fit in a pair of jeans I haven't worn in over a year because they felt too tight. Not only that, but they are pretty baggy. Epic win.
Benefits of hooping go far beyond the ability to do some mind-boggling tricks and dances.
It is empowering in so many ways. I have stamina. I can see muscles I didn't know existed. I have confidence. I have a skill I wasn't capable of before. I am learning what it's like to get to know yourself, spend time with your own spirit and be happy with who you find at the end of the day... really happy. There is also the added benefit of the huge community of encouraging hoopers, experienced and novice alike to inspire you on your journey. Not only that, but people get excited with you when you inspire them in return.
When I explain hooping to others, they do not usually understand. When I show hooping to others, they must get a hoop of their own. It is that simple and it is that addicting.
I never thought spinning and dancing with irrigation tubing would be so enlightening, empowering and free.
Thank you to my body! Thank you to my hoop!
-----
If you have no idea what I'm talking about, you should visit:
http://www.hooping.org/
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
on the first amendment and liberty
Over two hundred years ago in December of 1791 the first amendment was born.
Most citizens of the United States know this, but most of us forget how essential and influential this date is in our stories and our lives. This is our liberty. Because of this date, we are free to worship or not worship. Because of this date, I was able to grow up in a loving home that was involved in a local church family. Because of this date, we have the security and freedom to worship whatever or whomever we please. We are who we are and have lived our lives according to this simple premise:
“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”
These words are part of each of our stories, whether we reflect on them often or not at all.
What example and legacy, then, are we setting for our children and our world when we hear the words ‘Ground Zero Mosque’ and vehemently oppose something that we know nothing about? To clear up confusion among those who may not have researched this issue or have only seen clips from the mainstream media, this is not a mosque, nor is it at Ground Zero. Clyde Haberman of the New York Times had a great comment about the significant difference:
“There's that "at." For a two-letter word, it packs quite a wallop. It has been tossed around in a manner both cavalier and disingenuous, with an intention by some to inflame passions. Nobody, regardless of political leanings, would tolerate a mosque at ground zero. "Near" is not the same, as anyone who paid attention back in the fourth grade should know.”
I have seen protesters. I have seen signs written in ignorance and hate. Things like, ‘this is NOT your country,’ and ‘to embrace Islam is to embrace terrorism.’
Do I think it’s the greatest idea to place an Islamic community center in that location? Not necessarily, and that is not my point (nor should it be yours, if I may say so in the most endearing and loving way possible). The point is this. This issue as it is should not even be up for debate. I planned on a lengthy explanation before realizing that unless people are simply daft, all I need to explain is the following:
The moment we can tell a religious group that they can’t build a community center on private property, our freedom is at stake; all of our collective liberties and things our forefathers fought and died for will be in vain.
Your freedom and mine will be forever changed.
If we are to be true patriots, we are to behave as Jefferson said we must and defend and uphold the Constitution. He did not say that we ‘should.’ He said that we must.
Some of the signs of protesters I have seen say things like ‘Build Christian Churches in the Middle East.’ If we are to be the United States of America, a nation that has center stage in the global theater, then we must act accordingly. I vaguely recall something called The Golden Rule, something about ‘doing unto others’… but that must not apply to this particular situation.
I also wanted to somehow incorporate that we have massacred over one million Islamic people for their oil and as punishment for the actions of 9/11. I just couldn’t find a way include it nicely, because it is what it is; the antithesis of nice. Is that not enough ‘justice’ for some? If not, what will be?
Just give me liberty, okay?
While you’re at it, give it to my fellow countrymen who choose a different faith.
I digress.
“They who would give up an essential liberty for temporary security, deserve neither liberty nor security.” –Benjamin Franklin.
“Every man must decide whether he will walk in the light of creative altruism or in the darkness of destructive selfishness.”
Martin Luther King, Jr.
Most citizens of the United States know this, but most of us forget how essential and influential this date is in our stories and our lives. This is our liberty. Because of this date, we are free to worship or not worship. Because of this date, I was able to grow up in a loving home that was involved in a local church family. Because of this date, we have the security and freedom to worship whatever or whomever we please. We are who we are and have lived our lives according to this simple premise:
“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”
These words are part of each of our stories, whether we reflect on them often or not at all.
What example and legacy, then, are we setting for our children and our world when we hear the words ‘Ground Zero Mosque’ and vehemently oppose something that we know nothing about? To clear up confusion among those who may not have researched this issue or have only seen clips from the mainstream media, this is not a mosque, nor is it at Ground Zero. Clyde Haberman of the New York Times had a great comment about the significant difference:
“There's that "at." For a two-letter word, it packs quite a wallop. It has been tossed around in a manner both cavalier and disingenuous, with an intention by some to inflame passions. Nobody, regardless of political leanings, would tolerate a mosque at ground zero. "Near" is not the same, as anyone who paid attention back in the fourth grade should know.”
I have seen protesters. I have seen signs written in ignorance and hate. Things like, ‘this is NOT your country,’ and ‘to embrace Islam is to embrace terrorism.’
Do I think it’s the greatest idea to place an Islamic community center in that location? Not necessarily, and that is not my point (nor should it be yours, if I may say so in the most endearing and loving way possible). The point is this. This issue as it is should not even be up for debate. I planned on a lengthy explanation before realizing that unless people are simply daft, all I need to explain is the following:
The moment we can tell a religious group that they can’t build a community center on private property, our freedom is at stake; all of our collective liberties and things our forefathers fought and died for will be in vain.
Your freedom and mine will be forever changed.
If we are to be true patriots, we are to behave as Jefferson said we must and defend and uphold the Constitution. He did not say that we ‘should.’ He said that we must.
Some of the signs of protesters I have seen say things like ‘Build Christian Churches in the Middle East.’ If we are to be the United States of America, a nation that has center stage in the global theater, then we must act accordingly. I vaguely recall something called The Golden Rule, something about ‘doing unto others’… but that must not apply to this particular situation.
I also wanted to somehow incorporate that we have massacred over one million Islamic people for their oil and as punishment for the actions of 9/11. I just couldn’t find a way include it nicely, because it is what it is; the antithesis of nice. Is that not enough ‘justice’ for some? If not, what will be?
Just give me liberty, okay?
While you’re at it, give it to my fellow countrymen who choose a different faith.
I digress.
“They who would give up an essential liberty for temporary security, deserve neither liberty nor security.” –Benjamin Franklin.
“Every man must decide whether he will walk in the light of creative altruism or in the darkness of destructive selfishness.”
Martin Luther King, Jr.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
on making differences
When we entitled and blessed ones finally meet the Needy, I hope there are no more big screens or sweatshops. I hope we learn to think.
When Love wins, I hope there is no 'us' and 'them' anymore, just people who need one another, who need community.
I hope we learn to love more than just our money and our shopping malls. I hope 'success' is not equated with 'excess.'
I hope we find our conscience dictating what we buy and who and where it comes from.
Can we learn that nothing is every really 'thrown away?' Can we learn to be responsible consumers in a world dictated by mass production?
I hope we learn endless love and compassion for those outside ourselves... and I hope it makes a difference.
Things you and I can do today to be more awesome:
-Read the tags on the clothes and shoes you buy. If it's made outside of the U.S. or doesn't have a Fair Trade label, don't take the chance it was made by someone compensated unfairly.
-Visit a thrift store instead of a mall.
-Shop local, support local farmers.
-Buy coffee that is grown fairly and sustainably... Starbucks is actually making incredible strides to better their corporation and make a difference.
-Plant your own vegetables and watch them grow.
-Recycle. It seems trivial, but it adds up.
-Walk around your neighborhood (or even just outside on your own street) and pick up garbage.
-Find friends and come up with $25 to fund a microfinance loan and change a woman's life in the developing world. Watch their progress as they pay it back and make a difference locally.
http://www.opportunity.org/Page.aspx?pid=193
-Ride a bike or take the bus. Turn off lights. Hang your clothes to dry. Start to care about energy and where it comes from.
-Get inspired by watching this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B_6iTCo5Ci8
Take victories in the small differences we all make. Be proud of what you can do.
When Love wins, I hope there is no 'us' and 'them' anymore, just people who need one another, who need community.
I hope we learn to love more than just our money and our shopping malls. I hope 'success' is not equated with 'excess.'
I hope we find our conscience dictating what we buy and who and where it comes from.
Can we learn that nothing is every really 'thrown away?' Can we learn to be responsible consumers in a world dictated by mass production?
I hope we learn endless love and compassion for those outside ourselves... and I hope it makes a difference.
Things you and I can do today to be more awesome:
-Read the tags on the clothes and shoes you buy. If it's made outside of the U.S. or doesn't have a Fair Trade label, don't take the chance it was made by someone compensated unfairly.
-Visit a thrift store instead of a mall.
-Shop local, support local farmers.
-Buy coffee that is grown fairly and sustainably... Starbucks is actually making incredible strides to better their corporation and make a difference.
-Plant your own vegetables and watch them grow.
-Recycle. It seems trivial, but it adds up.
-Walk around your neighborhood (or even just outside on your own street) and pick up garbage.
-Find friends and come up with $25 to fund a microfinance loan and change a woman's life in the developing world. Watch their progress as they pay it back and make a difference locally.
http://www.opportunity.org/Page.aspx?pid=193
-Ride a bike or take the bus. Turn off lights. Hang your clothes to dry. Start to care about energy and where it comes from.
-Get inspired by watching this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B_6iTCo5Ci8
Take victories in the small differences we all make. Be proud of what you can do.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
on seattle
I love Seattle. I am falling in love with my life here.
I love our crazy, creaky, cobwebbed house filled with a myriad of ten interesting characters. I love that my front yard is like a rain forest with colors that are rich and dense. I even love the tacky, waist-high lawn ornament set of plastic penguins. They are more than slightly reminiscent of trailer trash, but all of the members in our household constantly move them to locations that are meant to stir up laughs in whoever sees them. Previous locations include the roof, up in a tree, in the front seat of someone's car, and in a hammock. This changes hourly. I love trying to explain our roommates to other people (Normal Steve, Pregnant Kendra, Adopted Woody, Crazy Don, Absent Terry, etc). I love most of my roommates and they have become friends.
I love my flower and vegetable garden. It took less than a day to turn the flower beds into something beautiful, earthy and fresh. I didn't wear gloves. I thought the naked earth would bother me, but I found everything interesting. Moving a rock and seeing what life is living under it; ripping up weeds and planting flowers with my bare hands.
I love driving home south on I-5 on a clear day to see Mount Rainier, majestic and sexy and alone on the horizon. This brings me to loving trees, and mountains, and saltwater scented air, and all of the above dancing with the skyscrapers and civilization. I love my job, and feeling appreciated, and getting paid for working hard.
I love neighborhoods that have character and individuality like Fremont, Capitol Hill, and Belltown. I love walking down Broadway and people-watching. I love Metsker's Maps in Pike Place. I love that in one month I can attend free art festivals, block parties, Iranian Film Festivals, a Pride Parade and dozens of Couchsurfing events. I love that we are in a place where we can open up our humble place to travelers and seekers. I love the sustainability and the mentality, the beautiful bohemians, the beats, the poets, the artists.
I love that I am 10 minutes from the beach at Golden Gardens, where we can build a fire and watch it grow; dip our toes in the waves and watch the sun fall behind the Olympic Mountains that are jagged, ancient, and real. This has been and will be my summer - inviting those wandering without a fire to come and join our own. Sharing music, stories, fire spinning and laughter with strangers that become part of our story.
I am starting to fall in love with my story again, and that is a good and lovely thing.
I love our crazy, creaky, cobwebbed house filled with a myriad of ten interesting characters. I love that my front yard is like a rain forest with colors that are rich and dense. I even love the tacky, waist-high lawn ornament set of plastic penguins. They are more than slightly reminiscent of trailer trash, but all of the members in our household constantly move them to locations that are meant to stir up laughs in whoever sees them. Previous locations include the roof, up in a tree, in the front seat of someone's car, and in a hammock. This changes hourly. I love trying to explain our roommates to other people (Normal Steve, Pregnant Kendra, Adopted Woody, Crazy Don, Absent Terry, etc). I love most of my roommates and they have become friends.
I love my flower and vegetable garden. It took less than a day to turn the flower beds into something beautiful, earthy and fresh. I didn't wear gloves. I thought the naked earth would bother me, but I found everything interesting. Moving a rock and seeing what life is living under it; ripping up weeds and planting flowers with my bare hands.
I love driving home south on I-5 on a clear day to see Mount Rainier, majestic and sexy and alone on the horizon. This brings me to loving trees, and mountains, and saltwater scented air, and all of the above dancing with the skyscrapers and civilization. I love my job, and feeling appreciated, and getting paid for working hard.
I love neighborhoods that have character and individuality like Fremont, Capitol Hill, and Belltown. I love walking down Broadway and people-watching. I love Metsker's Maps in Pike Place. I love that in one month I can attend free art festivals, block parties, Iranian Film Festivals, a Pride Parade and dozens of Couchsurfing events. I love that we are in a place where we can open up our humble place to travelers and seekers. I love the sustainability and the mentality, the beautiful bohemians, the beats, the poets, the artists.
I love that I am 10 minutes from the beach at Golden Gardens, where we can build a fire and watch it grow; dip our toes in the waves and watch the sun fall behind the Olympic Mountains that are jagged, ancient, and real. This has been and will be my summer - inviting those wandering without a fire to come and join our own. Sharing music, stories, fire spinning and laughter with strangers that become part of our story.
I am starting to fall in love with my story again, and that is a good and lovely thing.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
on moscow
I would like to write an epic goodbye note to commemorate the era of my life in Moscow coming to an end. Unfortunately, as my fellow writers can attest, sometimes words don't come out the way they should. Sometimes they fail to come at all. I will write what I can.
I am leaving Moscow a completely different person than when I drove into town three years ago. I know not everyone in my life is proud of those changes, but I am proud of most of them. It was said to me once that my life since arriving here has been a train wreck. Maybe sometimes it has been. I think that is life though; some years will more closely resemble train wrecks than others. Some will be beautiful and move you to become more beautiful with them.
Time will not cease upon my leaving, and most lives without me here will continue much the same. My life itself, through the lives of those I met here and my experiences, has been forever changed. To my friends and acquaintences that were part of this era, the good and the devastating, I love you. Thank you for being a part of my story.
I have changed my worldview, met those that opened my mind and soul, I altered my spiritual way of thinking, had friendships and relationships with great-hearted people, and most importantly, I learned. I learned so much. I learned that every day becomes exactly what I made of it. I learned that I have the power to be creative or destructive, to be a blessing or a curse, and this power must be wielded carefully. I learned that I make a difference.
It is both lovely and shocking when we come to realize how much we make a difference. This is the most important lesson I learned in Moscow. Every conversation, every interaction, every attitude brought into a room, every word whispered behind the back of someone else, it all counts. It all matters. I learned that who you are isn't who you think you are, who you pretend to be, it is what you do. I am different since I learned this this. You are what you do. It's very simple though sometimes hard to process. If you constantly badmouth others, that is who you are. If you are out at bars every night, that is who you are. On the other hand if you work hard, postively influence and encourage others, and are genuine, that is who you are. I am trying to be more like that person. Sometimes I will fail.
It's interesting that the Tuareg nomads of Africa have only one tense in their language... the present. I think it would be beautiful to think that way. To live less in yesterday and make today a good day. I am still teaching my brain to work that way, but it started here. Thank you to those who taught me to be present in my own life. Thank you for changing my story.
I have many to thank as I pack my bags and start a new chapter of my life, though if I tried to list them I would fail miserably. I am listening to a song by Hector LaVoe, called 'Todo Tiene Su Final.' Everything must come to an end. That is true, but I think LaVoe missed something. More accurate lyrics would read 'though everything comes to an end, it often means the beginning of something brilliantly beautiful and new.'
Blessings to you, my Moscow friends and family. I hope your lives are beautiful and filled with promise. I hope you spend your days in the present tense. I hope you find and spread inspiration. I hope you find that every decision and action you make counts. I hope you love and live deeply.
Most of all, I hope our stories will entwine again someday.
Selah... let it be.
I am leaving Moscow a completely different person than when I drove into town three years ago. I know not everyone in my life is proud of those changes, but I am proud of most of them. It was said to me once that my life since arriving here has been a train wreck. Maybe sometimes it has been. I think that is life though; some years will more closely resemble train wrecks than others. Some will be beautiful and move you to become more beautiful with them.
Time will not cease upon my leaving, and most lives without me here will continue much the same. My life itself, through the lives of those I met here and my experiences, has been forever changed. To my friends and acquaintences that were part of this era, the good and the devastating, I love you. Thank you for being a part of my story.
I have changed my worldview, met those that opened my mind and soul, I altered my spiritual way of thinking, had friendships and relationships with great-hearted people, and most importantly, I learned. I learned so much. I learned that every day becomes exactly what I made of it. I learned that I have the power to be creative or destructive, to be a blessing or a curse, and this power must be wielded carefully. I learned that I make a difference.
It is both lovely and shocking when we come to realize how much we make a difference. This is the most important lesson I learned in Moscow. Every conversation, every interaction, every attitude brought into a room, every word whispered behind the back of someone else, it all counts. It all matters. I learned that who you are isn't who you think you are, who you pretend to be, it is what you do. I am different since I learned this this. You are what you do. It's very simple though sometimes hard to process. If you constantly badmouth others, that is who you are. If you are out at bars every night, that is who you are. On the other hand if you work hard, postively influence and encourage others, and are genuine, that is who you are. I am trying to be more like that person. Sometimes I will fail.
It's interesting that the Tuareg nomads of Africa have only one tense in their language... the present. I think it would be beautiful to think that way. To live less in yesterday and make today a good day. I am still teaching my brain to work that way, but it started here. Thank you to those who taught me to be present in my own life. Thank you for changing my story.
I have many to thank as I pack my bags and start a new chapter of my life, though if I tried to list them I would fail miserably. I am listening to a song by Hector LaVoe, called 'Todo Tiene Su Final.' Everything must come to an end. That is true, but I think LaVoe missed something. More accurate lyrics would read 'though everything comes to an end, it often means the beginning of something brilliantly beautiful and new.'
Blessings to you, my Moscow friends and family. I hope your lives are beautiful and filled with promise. I hope you spend your days in the present tense. I hope you find and spread inspiration. I hope you find that every decision and action you make counts. I hope you love and live deeply.
Most of all, I hope our stories will entwine again someday.
Selah... let it be.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
on being frustrated and peak oil
I am frustrated. No, I am beyond frustrated.
I want to be an activist for the ideals I believe in. I want to spread knowledge like wildfire, avoid ignorance and complacency and be well-rounded and real. I want to be a 'Pro' person; I want to be defined by the things and ideas I believe in, and not the things I would necessarily be against.
Why is it that 'liberal' and 'conservative' have to be the terms with which we are defined? Why is it that if we belong to one that the other is perpetually wrong and has no redeeming qualities? I want to know what makes it so difficult for us to find common ground, when most people want the same things: good education, health care, the right to human dignity, racial and gender equality, and the right to make a living. Granted, a few select people have hatred or biases that are unfounded. But overall, the nonpartisan issues far outweigh the ones that we should be fighting about, and I am frustrated that no matter what I do, I am forced to appear somewhere on a political spectrum that I have no faith in.
There is a myriad of issues that affect all of us. Whether putting my energy and efforts toward these issues label me as a 'raging liberal' to some friends and family, or whether my moderate and inquisitive nature makes me seem like a 'right-wing nut' to others, I have to carry on and do what I think is right.
I can't stand listening to people that think in only black and white. Nothing is just black. Nothing is only white. Nothing is just left. Nothing is only right. If anything, we should think in a dazzling array of colors that cannot be defined and let the tints and hues speak for themselves and inspire us. I refuse to be padlocked into one-sided thinking, and I hope you refuse as well.
Dearest America, we are going to have some problems, and I am afraid for us. I am afraid for the liberal activists and the small-town conservatives; I am afraid for our children and their children; I am afraid for the misfits, the jocks, the business men and the farmers. I am afraid that we are so wrapped up in ourselves to step back and measure the weight of what this last century has brought us, both good and bad.
We are going to run out of cheap oil. This is not up for debate or dispute. It is the scientific conclusion of the best paid, most widely-respected geologists, physicists, bankers, and investors in the world. It does not matter who you voted for or what you call yourself, because within a decade we will not be able to afford to drive our cars to work. Everything we do is surrounded and influenced by petroleum. Yes, it powers our cars and has the potential to ruin our fragile habitat. But there is more.
As of 2002, about 10 calories of fossil fuels were required to produce every one calorie of food eaten in the U.S. Pesticides and agro-chemicals are made from oil; these are necessary because of the single crop farming that is practiced across the nation. Most farming tools - tractors, trailers, combines - are constructed and powered by oil-derived fuels. Our refrigerators are manufactured in plants powered by oil and run on electricity, which, not shockingly, also also comes from natural gas and coal.
The average piece of food that you eat in the United States is transported about 1,500 miles before it sits in front of you on your plate. In Canada, this is almost 5,000 miles. Not only is our transportation and agriculture created in dependence of cheap and plentiful oil. Our water distribution, national defense, electronics, all plastics, modern medicine, and almost all high-tech devices requre fossil fuels. I would also like to point out that almost every alternative energy source out there uses petrochemicals at some point in their construction.
What does all this really mean, for you and for me? It means that you shouldn't just be concerned about how much it will cost to fill up your gas tank in five years.
In 2006 in the Chicago Tribune, Pulitzer Prize winner Paul Salopek described Peak Oil consequences as "unimaginable. Permanent fuel shortages would tip the world into a generations-long economic depression. Millions would lose their jobs as industry implodes. Farm tractors would be idled for lack of fuel, triggering massive famines. Energy wars would flare. And careless suburbanites would trudge to their nearest big box stores, not to buy Chinese made clothing transported cheaply across the globe, but to scavenge glass and copper wire from abandoned buildings."
If saying all that makes me an unforgivable liberal, take into account the speech of Congressman Roscoe Bartlett, a Republican from Maryland. He spoke to the U.S. House of Representatives for an hour in 2005 about Peak Oil.
"Is there any reason to remain optimistic or hopeful? Let me go back to Matt Savinar, that not-too-optimistic journalist. "If what you mean is there any way technology or the market or brilliant scientists or comprehensive government programs are going to hold things together or solve this for me or allow for business to continue as usual, the answer is no. On the other hand, if what you really mean is is there any way that I still can have a happy, fulfilling life, in spite of some clearly grim facts, the answer is yes. But it is going to require a lot of work, a lot of adjustments, and probably a bit of good fortune on your part.'"
I am frustrated. What I am frustrated most with, however, is that many papers (such as the UK Guardian) have admitted to covering up the looming crisis for years in order to avoid widespread panic and keep the world's economy in check.
I am frustrated that my whole life will change in less than a decade, and no one is getting frustrated with me. We need to rise up, to inspire one another, to invest in the transition we will all be going through together. We need to employ the innovators, discover how to localize again, use the remaining oil to fuel the creation of the technology that will eventually bring us through to the other side, to a calmer and newer era of our lives. I have no doubt we will make it through. I just wish more of the global community was interested in using Peak Oil as a way to bring us together.
If you have, in fact, reached the end of what has become a novel, I want to encourage you. Do your own research, dig up your own facts, use sources from all sides of the political spectrum, read books, watch documentaries... get inspired. Get angry, but more importantly, get inspired.
Together let's start to think in colors and leave black and white behind us.
I want to be an activist for the ideals I believe in. I want to spread knowledge like wildfire, avoid ignorance and complacency and be well-rounded and real. I want to be a 'Pro' person; I want to be defined by the things and ideas I believe in, and not the things I would necessarily be against.
Why is it that 'liberal' and 'conservative' have to be the terms with which we are defined? Why is it that if we belong to one that the other is perpetually wrong and has no redeeming qualities? I want to know what makes it so difficult for us to find common ground, when most people want the same things: good education, health care, the right to human dignity, racial and gender equality, and the right to make a living. Granted, a few select people have hatred or biases that are unfounded. But overall, the nonpartisan issues far outweigh the ones that we should be fighting about, and I am frustrated that no matter what I do, I am forced to appear somewhere on a political spectrum that I have no faith in.
There is a myriad of issues that affect all of us. Whether putting my energy and efforts toward these issues label me as a 'raging liberal' to some friends and family, or whether my moderate and inquisitive nature makes me seem like a 'right-wing nut' to others, I have to carry on and do what I think is right.
I can't stand listening to people that think in only black and white. Nothing is just black. Nothing is only white. Nothing is just left. Nothing is only right. If anything, we should think in a dazzling array of colors that cannot be defined and let the tints and hues speak for themselves and inspire us. I refuse to be padlocked into one-sided thinking, and I hope you refuse as well.
Dearest America, we are going to have some problems, and I am afraid for us. I am afraid for the liberal activists and the small-town conservatives; I am afraid for our children and their children; I am afraid for the misfits, the jocks, the business men and the farmers. I am afraid that we are so wrapped up in ourselves to step back and measure the weight of what this last century has brought us, both good and bad.
We are going to run out of cheap oil. This is not up for debate or dispute. It is the scientific conclusion of the best paid, most widely-respected geologists, physicists, bankers, and investors in the world. It does not matter who you voted for or what you call yourself, because within a decade we will not be able to afford to drive our cars to work. Everything we do is surrounded and influenced by petroleum. Yes, it powers our cars and has the potential to ruin our fragile habitat. But there is more.
As of 2002, about 10 calories of fossil fuels were required to produce every one calorie of food eaten in the U.S. Pesticides and agro-chemicals are made from oil; these are necessary because of the single crop farming that is practiced across the nation. Most farming tools - tractors, trailers, combines - are constructed and powered by oil-derived fuels. Our refrigerators are manufactured in plants powered by oil and run on electricity, which, not shockingly, also also comes from natural gas and coal.
The average piece of food that you eat in the United States is transported about 1,500 miles before it sits in front of you on your plate. In Canada, this is almost 5,000 miles. Not only is our transportation and agriculture created in dependence of cheap and plentiful oil. Our water distribution, national defense, electronics, all plastics, modern medicine, and almost all high-tech devices requre fossil fuels. I would also like to point out that almost every alternative energy source out there uses petrochemicals at some point in their construction.
What does all this really mean, for you and for me? It means that you shouldn't just be concerned about how much it will cost to fill up your gas tank in five years.
In 2006 in the Chicago Tribune, Pulitzer Prize winner Paul Salopek described Peak Oil consequences as "unimaginable. Permanent fuel shortages would tip the world into a generations-long economic depression. Millions would lose their jobs as industry implodes. Farm tractors would be idled for lack of fuel, triggering massive famines. Energy wars would flare. And careless suburbanites would trudge to their nearest big box stores, not to buy Chinese made clothing transported cheaply across the globe, but to scavenge glass and copper wire from abandoned buildings."
If saying all that makes me an unforgivable liberal, take into account the speech of Congressman Roscoe Bartlett, a Republican from Maryland. He spoke to the U.S. House of Representatives for an hour in 2005 about Peak Oil.
"Is there any reason to remain optimistic or hopeful? Let me go back to Matt Savinar, that not-too-optimistic journalist. "If what you mean is there any way technology or the market or brilliant scientists or comprehensive government programs are going to hold things together or solve this for me or allow for business to continue as usual, the answer is no. On the other hand, if what you really mean is is there any way that I still can have a happy, fulfilling life, in spite of some clearly grim facts, the answer is yes. But it is going to require a lot of work, a lot of adjustments, and probably a bit of good fortune on your part.'"
I am frustrated. What I am frustrated most with, however, is that many papers (such as the UK Guardian) have admitted to covering up the looming crisis for years in order to avoid widespread panic and keep the world's economy in check.
I am frustrated that my whole life will change in less than a decade, and no one is getting frustrated with me. We need to rise up, to inspire one another, to invest in the transition we will all be going through together. We need to employ the innovators, discover how to localize again, use the remaining oil to fuel the creation of the technology that will eventually bring us through to the other side, to a calmer and newer era of our lives. I have no doubt we will make it through. I just wish more of the global community was interested in using Peak Oil as a way to bring us together.
If you have, in fact, reached the end of what has become a novel, I want to encourage you. Do your own research, dig up your own facts, use sources from all sides of the political spectrum, read books, watch documentaries... get inspired. Get angry, but more importantly, get inspired.
Together let's start to think in colors and leave black and white behind us.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
on pledging allegiance
I pledge allegiance to the lifestyle of the United States of America:
to corporate bailouts on Wall Street while our Main Streets deteriorate;
to boarded-up family homes seized by bankruptcy and greed.
To the single percentile controlling 95% of our wealth,
to our monetary system being controlled by a privately-owned Federal Reserve,
and to paying income tax when there is no written law anywhere requiring me to do so.
I pledge that I will not question capitalism, its flawed nature,
and that I will remain willingly blind to the injustice and poverty it continually creates.
I will continue to be a sheep in the flock of millions that do not understand,
believing that our government, its Supreme Court, and almost all of its branches
are not controlled by the ruling elite who care not for the poor.
I pledge to consume as much as possible, with my right hand over my heart,
and my left hand digging through my pocketbook.
I will support big business and my local Wal-Mart,
even though they take out life insurance policies on many employees
that are worth over a billion dollars dead, and not so much alive.
I will waste more energy in my household than a third world nation,
leaving a carbon footprint large enough to prove that I was here, and I had money and oil to burn.
I pledge to believe in trade that is free and not fair,
even if coffee farmers in Ethiopia receive a few cents for the latte I purchased this morning, with the plot of land that has been in their families for generations.
Capitalism and free enterprise are the answer, and these farmers are obviously not making the grade.
I pledge not to care about global warming, because it is a scam
and I never liked Al Gore anyway.
I pledge to call anyone who questions these things a conspiracy theorist, an anarchist,a tree-hugger, or an environmentalist nutcase.
They are obviously not watching the same news channels and media outlets that I am,
and because I have not heard of or confirmed these things they obviously do not exist.
I pledge to avoid documentaries and reading material that will make me question and possibly confirm the failure of what was once a nation built on freedom, America the Beautiful.
...and to the Republic for which it stands, one nation, wearing a blindfold, already divided, with corporate fascism and corruption for all.
to corporate bailouts on Wall Street while our Main Streets deteriorate;
to boarded-up family homes seized by bankruptcy and greed.
To the single percentile controlling 95% of our wealth,
to our monetary system being controlled by a privately-owned Federal Reserve,
and to paying income tax when there is no written law anywhere requiring me to do so.
I pledge that I will not question capitalism, its flawed nature,
and that I will remain willingly blind to the injustice and poverty it continually creates.
I will continue to be a sheep in the flock of millions that do not understand,
believing that our government, its Supreme Court, and almost all of its branches
are not controlled by the ruling elite who care not for the poor.
I pledge to consume as much as possible, with my right hand over my heart,
and my left hand digging through my pocketbook.
I will support big business and my local Wal-Mart,
even though they take out life insurance policies on many employees
that are worth over a billion dollars dead, and not so much alive.
I will waste more energy in my household than a third world nation,
leaving a carbon footprint large enough to prove that I was here, and I had money and oil to burn.
I pledge to believe in trade that is free and not fair,
even if coffee farmers in Ethiopia receive a few cents for the latte I purchased this morning, with the plot of land that has been in their families for generations.
Capitalism and free enterprise are the answer, and these farmers are obviously not making the grade.
I pledge not to care about global warming, because it is a scam
and I never liked Al Gore anyway.
I pledge to call anyone who questions these things a conspiracy theorist, an anarchist,a tree-hugger, or an environmentalist nutcase.
They are obviously not watching the same news channels and media outlets that I am,
and because I have not heard of or confirmed these things they obviously do not exist.
I pledge to avoid documentaries and reading material that will make me question and possibly confirm the failure of what was once a nation built on freedom, America the Beautiful.
...and to the Republic for which it stands, one nation, wearing a blindfold, already divided, with corporate fascism and corruption for all.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
on the WTO and my recent discoveries
It has been said that our gift has human beings is to be able to learn things and to understand, to be self-aware and ever growing. Tonight, with my heart and mind heavy, I would have to say that it can also be as equally great a curse.
I am learning more now, in the past few months, than I have ever learned. I have been reading, researching, digging into history with my heels in the ground. I have found documentaries, footage that the media hid or twisted, copies of documents proving that our government funded bloody massacres and coops to overthrow democratically-elected officials in order to pillage their resources. My eyes have been opened. Not gently, no, they have been yanked open to a bright and simultaneously dark world that I never knew was out there. Most people will keep their eyes shut their whole lives. But once someone’s eyes have been opened to a world like that, they can never look away. A world of truth that many people will never see, nor have the desire to see. I can’t look away.
It’s like a traffic accident you drive by on the freeway and can’t take your eyes off of. You don’t want to see, but at the same time you need to. You desperately want to know what really happened. It’s more than that. You need to know.
Some say that sin is the human condition. I would argue that further and say that the human condition is not only wrongdoing, but also ignorance; not only ignorance, but intentional or deliberate ignorance. I talk to people every day who don’t believe in recycling, or climate change, or peak oil, or corruption, or what our future bleakly looks like. That being said, I am still usually the crazy optimist, in spite of people who intentionally choose to avoid seeking truth. But it’s hard sometimes.
Raised in a conservative and simultaneously loving and wonderful home, I have always trusted and loved my country. I said ‘one nation, under God, indivisible,’ and I meant it. I thought republicans knew everything and liberals knew nothing, and now that I’m mostly liberal I realize that neither side knows much of anything that the other side doesn’t know. I debated Creationism in class, I wanted to be a journalist, I voted for George Bush, I though America was a wonderful and generous country and I was proud to be a part of it. I had an amazing childhood. Maybe that’s why becoming an adult forming their own opinions is so difficult for me.
Beyond all the politics, beyond all the anti-American sentiment overseas, I guess I am truly amazed at the same sentiment boiling up within me. I am outraged, I am furious, and I am livid. I feel that I was personally lied to, that I was intentionally deceived, and I want to march into the streets with thousands and scream that this nation is not what we think it is. That these stars and stripes do not stand for freedom any longer, at least not to those calling the shots. That our country occupies, takes what they need, and leaves. That our history of massacre dates back to the time of the pilgrims, and has changed little since then (save the introduction of weapons of mass destruction to more effectively exterminate our opposition).
The more I know, the more I am sickened by it. The more I know, the more I want to say. But the more I want to say, the more words fail to be enough.
My life is changed. Radically. Though that in itself is beautiful, I’m not sure where I go from here.
“I don't have to tell you things are bad. Everybody knows things are bad. It's a depression. Everybody's out of work or scared of losing their job. The dollar buys a nickel's work, banks are going bust, shopkeepers keep a gun under the counter. Punks are running wild in the street and there's nobody anywhere who seems to know what to do, and there's no end to it. We know the air is unfit to breathe and our food is unfit to eat, and we sit watching our TV's while some local newscaster tells us that today we had fifteen homicides and sixty-three violent crimes, as if that's the way it's supposed to be. We know things are bad - worse than bad. They're crazy. It's like everything everywhere is going crazy, so we don't go out anymore. We sit in the house, and slowly the world we are living in is getting smaller, and all we say is, 'Please, at least leave us alone in our living rooms. Let me have my toaster and my TV and my steel-belted radials and I won't say anything. Just leave us alone.'
Well, I'm not going leave you alone. I want you to get mad! I don't want you to protest. I don't want you to riot - I don't want you to write to your congressman because I wouldn't know what to tell you to write. I don't know what to do about the depression and the inflation and the Russians and the crime in the street. All I know is that first you've got to get mad. You've got to say, 'I'm a HUMAN BEING, Goddamnit! My life has VALUE!'”
-Network, 1976
(you should listen to this next song to get the real feel for the lyrics and what it means... it's about the stand off between the WTO, IMF, and World Bank in 1999 and their protestors. Moving, to put it mildly.)
50 Thousand Deep – Blue Scholars
(based on the Battle of Seattle, 1999)
November 30th, 1999
No sunshine
The body rock stopped, probably got caught by the cops
Nearby, somebody got shot
But parties don't stop and the parties don't care
It's a stick-up, it's why we got our hands in the air
Still demanding a share, refrigerators bare
'Cause they wanna see trade get free and not fair
But we are not blind, we are not there
We don't got time left to spare to not care
On the last day of November, swellin' in ranks
Went to chant down the mighty IMF and World Bank
A gathering of people in peaceful assembly
Onward to Westlake to disrupt the entry
Walk along steady, riot squad ready
To protect every last dignitary's ass
But this started when they herded us like cattle in a fence
Protesters gettin' restless without an exit
They threatened to arrest us, we pushed back and then
A hail of rubber bullets hit teens and old men
I admit, had to split when the first gas canisters hit
Felt it burn in my eyes, nose, and lips
They tried to blame it on the anarchists, garbage
I was there, I'll tell you right now the pigs started it
But they distort it in the news
Talkin' bout stompin' down Niketown wearing their shoes
But the body rock stopped, probably got caught by the cops
Nearby, somebody got shot
But the parties don't stop and the parties don't care
It's a stick-up, it's why we got our hands in the air
50,000 deep, and it sound like thunder when our feet pound streets
50,000 deep, and it sound like thunder when our feet pound streets
50,000 deep, and it sound like thunder when our feet pound streets
50,000 deep, 50,000 deep
Yeah, now, the body rock stopped, probably got caught by the cops
Nearby, somebody got shot
But parties don't stop in the south
So take your shoes off when you come into my house
I had to duck out 'cause I knew I stuck out in the crowd
After many years growin' up brown in this town
Now this is what democracy looks like
Not what you all had in mind for tonight
Mr. Mayor, shell-shocked for 5 days straight
Press conference, lookin' constipated and pale
Tossed a homie in jail, wasn't even protesting
Wrong place, wrong time, learned a quick lesson
But this is not a question what we did to deserve this
Rich kids went and got arrested on purpose
But was it worth it? My first inclination
Globalization is the root of the pain
Made the reason that they left and the reason that we came
Catch my breath, blood pulsates my brain
And they called it a riot?
Huh, I call it an uprising
And they call this a riot?
But nah, I call it a uprising
And they call this a riot? Nah man, f*k that
I'm a call it a uprising
I am learning more now, in the past few months, than I have ever learned. I have been reading, researching, digging into history with my heels in the ground. I have found documentaries, footage that the media hid or twisted, copies of documents proving that our government funded bloody massacres and coops to overthrow democratically-elected officials in order to pillage their resources. My eyes have been opened. Not gently, no, they have been yanked open to a bright and simultaneously dark world that I never knew was out there. Most people will keep their eyes shut their whole lives. But once someone’s eyes have been opened to a world like that, they can never look away. A world of truth that many people will never see, nor have the desire to see. I can’t look away.
It’s like a traffic accident you drive by on the freeway and can’t take your eyes off of. You don’t want to see, but at the same time you need to. You desperately want to know what really happened. It’s more than that. You need to know.
Some say that sin is the human condition. I would argue that further and say that the human condition is not only wrongdoing, but also ignorance; not only ignorance, but intentional or deliberate ignorance. I talk to people every day who don’t believe in recycling, or climate change, or peak oil, or corruption, or what our future bleakly looks like. That being said, I am still usually the crazy optimist, in spite of people who intentionally choose to avoid seeking truth. But it’s hard sometimes.
Raised in a conservative and simultaneously loving and wonderful home, I have always trusted and loved my country. I said ‘one nation, under God, indivisible,’ and I meant it. I thought republicans knew everything and liberals knew nothing, and now that I’m mostly liberal I realize that neither side knows much of anything that the other side doesn’t know. I debated Creationism in class, I wanted to be a journalist, I voted for George Bush, I though America was a wonderful and generous country and I was proud to be a part of it. I had an amazing childhood. Maybe that’s why becoming an adult forming their own opinions is so difficult for me.
Beyond all the politics, beyond all the anti-American sentiment overseas, I guess I am truly amazed at the same sentiment boiling up within me. I am outraged, I am furious, and I am livid. I feel that I was personally lied to, that I was intentionally deceived, and I want to march into the streets with thousands and scream that this nation is not what we think it is. That these stars and stripes do not stand for freedom any longer, at least not to those calling the shots. That our country occupies, takes what they need, and leaves. That our history of massacre dates back to the time of the pilgrims, and has changed little since then (save the introduction of weapons of mass destruction to more effectively exterminate our opposition).
The more I know, the more I am sickened by it. The more I know, the more I want to say. But the more I want to say, the more words fail to be enough.
My life is changed. Radically. Though that in itself is beautiful, I’m not sure where I go from here.
“I don't have to tell you things are bad. Everybody knows things are bad. It's a depression. Everybody's out of work or scared of losing their job. The dollar buys a nickel's work, banks are going bust, shopkeepers keep a gun under the counter. Punks are running wild in the street and there's nobody anywhere who seems to know what to do, and there's no end to it. We know the air is unfit to breathe and our food is unfit to eat, and we sit watching our TV's while some local newscaster tells us that today we had fifteen homicides and sixty-three violent crimes, as if that's the way it's supposed to be. We know things are bad - worse than bad. They're crazy. It's like everything everywhere is going crazy, so we don't go out anymore. We sit in the house, and slowly the world we are living in is getting smaller, and all we say is, 'Please, at least leave us alone in our living rooms. Let me have my toaster and my TV and my steel-belted radials and I won't say anything. Just leave us alone.'
Well, I'm not going leave you alone. I want you to get mad! I don't want you to protest. I don't want you to riot - I don't want you to write to your congressman because I wouldn't know what to tell you to write. I don't know what to do about the depression and the inflation and the Russians and the crime in the street. All I know is that first you've got to get mad. You've got to say, 'I'm a HUMAN BEING, Goddamnit! My life has VALUE!'”
-Network, 1976
(you should listen to this next song to get the real feel for the lyrics and what it means... it's about the stand off between the WTO, IMF, and World Bank in 1999 and their protestors. Moving, to put it mildly.)
50 Thousand Deep – Blue Scholars
(based on the Battle of Seattle, 1999)
November 30th, 1999
No sunshine
The body rock stopped, probably got caught by the cops
Nearby, somebody got shot
But parties don't stop and the parties don't care
It's a stick-up, it's why we got our hands in the air
Still demanding a share, refrigerators bare
'Cause they wanna see trade get free and not fair
But we are not blind, we are not there
We don't got time left to spare to not care
On the last day of November, swellin' in ranks
Went to chant down the mighty IMF and World Bank
A gathering of people in peaceful assembly
Onward to Westlake to disrupt the entry
Walk along steady, riot squad ready
To protect every last dignitary's ass
But this started when they herded us like cattle in a fence
Protesters gettin' restless without an exit
They threatened to arrest us, we pushed back and then
A hail of rubber bullets hit teens and old men
I admit, had to split when the first gas canisters hit
Felt it burn in my eyes, nose, and lips
They tried to blame it on the anarchists, garbage
I was there, I'll tell you right now the pigs started it
But they distort it in the news
Talkin' bout stompin' down Niketown wearing their shoes
But the body rock stopped, probably got caught by the cops
Nearby, somebody got shot
But the parties don't stop and the parties don't care
It's a stick-up, it's why we got our hands in the air
50,000 deep, and it sound like thunder when our feet pound streets
50,000 deep, and it sound like thunder when our feet pound streets
50,000 deep, and it sound like thunder when our feet pound streets
50,000 deep, 50,000 deep
Yeah, now, the body rock stopped, probably got caught by the cops
Nearby, somebody got shot
But parties don't stop in the south
So take your shoes off when you come into my house
I had to duck out 'cause I knew I stuck out in the crowd
After many years growin' up brown in this town
Now this is what democracy looks like
Not what you all had in mind for tonight
Mr. Mayor, shell-shocked for 5 days straight
Press conference, lookin' constipated and pale
Tossed a homie in jail, wasn't even protesting
Wrong place, wrong time, learned a quick lesson
But this is not a question what we did to deserve this
Rich kids went and got arrested on purpose
But was it worth it? My first inclination
Globalization is the root of the pain
Made the reason that they left and the reason that we came
Catch my breath, blood pulsates my brain
And they called it a riot?
Huh, I call it an uprising
And they call this a riot?
But nah, I call it a uprising
And they call this a riot? Nah man, f*k that
I'm a call it a uprising
Thursday, December 31, 2009
on two thousand and ten
Dear Two-Thousand-and-Ten,
A decade ago, I was only thirteen and brought in the coming millennia playing in the snow and contemplating where I would be on this very day, ten years and many roads later. I wondered if I would be married or have children, and in my head then I’m certain I thought I would have graduated college or become a successful travel writer or marine biologist by now (sorry to disappoint, Miss Dayna who was thirteen).
A year ago today I resolved my resolutions from the year before. I concluded that I would make no promises or resolutions for 2009, and in lieu of those I would simply try to live more deeply and abundantly. As this past year ebbed and flowed, I sometimes succeeded in that, and those were beautiful moments.
Earlier today I stood on my porch and let the snowflakes drift past me, letting a few hit my face and turn to droplets. As I sipped my lukewarm coffee, I wondered what I should resolve to do – if anything – and how important I would make said resolutions. This year, in place of resolving much of anything, I am simply going to try much harder to do a few fairly important things. This eliminates the hassle of exactly one year from this moment when I will undoubtedly return to read this blog and wonder how I failed so miserably at simple things, thus triggering my mental self-flagellation. Setting painstakingly concrete resolutions can be a drag, let’s face it, so I’m trying something a little different.
(As a treat for next year, I’m going to save my opinion on why we only set goals for ourselves on one day out of the year and then waste the other 364 thinking we can’t decide to resolve anything until next January rolls around. You’re welcome.)
Part of why I hate resolutions is because I’m very bad at sticking to plans. I am awful. It’s embarrassing. Those who know me well will attest to my spontaneity and free-spirited wandering as being endearing yet simultaneously burdensome and annoying. Especially Kurt. He’s a planner. I’m a drifter. Most especially my mother, but only because she’s worried I will waste away as a hitchhiker while never recognizing my full potential as a world-changing writer/singer/songwriter/political activist/what have you. The people that choose to love me in life are rewarded with anecdotes and pretty cool stories while simultaneously being stuck on the rollercoaster that is my life.
The past few weeks I have been realizing just how badly I have been treating my mind through most of this last year. I haven’t been feeding it with new things to encounter and process and enjoy, like books or documentaries. Much of this will be remedied by the obscene amount of new books I received for Christmas thanks to my wonderful parents. Thanks to them, I have beside me a stack of books that, when I look at it, makes me so happy I want to pee my pants. I love the written word; Steinbeck, old classics, obscure travel writers, even local newspapers. Until a month ago I had forgotten how it felt to spend hours in a book. It is lovely. Thus, my first Unresolution is to read more and more diversely, to feed the amazing working thing that is my human mind.
Following along that same thread with Unresolution II, I need to write more and become more serious about it. Save this entry and notwithstanding my lack of practice, I promise that I can be a great writer in time. The general idea is not to give a hoot if I make money but to send in freelance work to build up a portfolio so that when I do again have money to travel, I will be able to make extra pennies (I’m under no delusion, they will be pennies and not dollars).
My third Unresolution is that I will write more music and pursue outlets to hone that ability within me, seeking out smaller coffee shops and performance venues that will help me get better while keeping my head and ego at a nice and manageable level. (Back when I toured I started to think I was a big deal, much like Will Ferrell, so this is more important than it sounds, especially as I lack the office that smells of rich mahogany.)
So 2010, you are Unresolved at last. I want to read more books, learn and practice the craft of writing, and reignite my passion for writing music. I would also be okay with sending more postcards, winning a Nobel Prize, finishing my novel, quitting smoking, and trading in my cat for a dog that doesn’t pee in the corner.
Nice to meet you 2010, I think this year will be great.
-Me
A decade ago, I was only thirteen and brought in the coming millennia playing in the snow and contemplating where I would be on this very day, ten years and many roads later. I wondered if I would be married or have children, and in my head then I’m certain I thought I would have graduated college or become a successful travel writer or marine biologist by now (sorry to disappoint, Miss Dayna who was thirteen).
A year ago today I resolved my resolutions from the year before. I concluded that I would make no promises or resolutions for 2009, and in lieu of those I would simply try to live more deeply and abundantly. As this past year ebbed and flowed, I sometimes succeeded in that, and those were beautiful moments.
Earlier today I stood on my porch and let the snowflakes drift past me, letting a few hit my face and turn to droplets. As I sipped my lukewarm coffee, I wondered what I should resolve to do – if anything – and how important I would make said resolutions. This year, in place of resolving much of anything, I am simply going to try much harder to do a few fairly important things. This eliminates the hassle of exactly one year from this moment when I will undoubtedly return to read this blog and wonder how I failed so miserably at simple things, thus triggering my mental self-flagellation. Setting painstakingly concrete resolutions can be a drag, let’s face it, so I’m trying something a little different.
(As a treat for next year, I’m going to save my opinion on why we only set goals for ourselves on one day out of the year and then waste the other 364 thinking we can’t decide to resolve anything until next January rolls around. You’re welcome.)
Part of why I hate resolutions is because I’m very bad at sticking to plans. I am awful. It’s embarrassing. Those who know me well will attest to my spontaneity and free-spirited wandering as being endearing yet simultaneously burdensome and annoying. Especially Kurt. He’s a planner. I’m a drifter. Most especially my mother, but only because she’s worried I will waste away as a hitchhiker while never recognizing my full potential as a world-changing writer/singer/songwriter/political activist/what have you. The people that choose to love me in life are rewarded with anecdotes and pretty cool stories while simultaneously being stuck on the rollercoaster that is my life.
The past few weeks I have been realizing just how badly I have been treating my mind through most of this last year. I haven’t been feeding it with new things to encounter and process and enjoy, like books or documentaries. Much of this will be remedied by the obscene amount of new books I received for Christmas thanks to my wonderful parents. Thanks to them, I have beside me a stack of books that, when I look at it, makes me so happy I want to pee my pants. I love the written word; Steinbeck, old classics, obscure travel writers, even local newspapers. Until a month ago I had forgotten how it felt to spend hours in a book. It is lovely. Thus, my first Unresolution is to read more and more diversely, to feed the amazing working thing that is my human mind.
Following along that same thread with Unresolution II, I need to write more and become more serious about it. Save this entry and notwithstanding my lack of practice, I promise that I can be a great writer in time. The general idea is not to give a hoot if I make money but to send in freelance work to build up a portfolio so that when I do again have money to travel, I will be able to make extra pennies (I’m under no delusion, they will be pennies and not dollars).
My third Unresolution is that I will write more music and pursue outlets to hone that ability within me, seeking out smaller coffee shops and performance venues that will help me get better while keeping my head and ego at a nice and manageable level. (Back when I toured I started to think I was a big deal, much like Will Ferrell, so this is more important than it sounds, especially as I lack the office that smells of rich mahogany.)
So 2010, you are Unresolved at last. I want to read more books, learn and practice the craft of writing, and reignite my passion for writing music. I would also be okay with sending more postcards, winning a Nobel Prize, finishing my novel, quitting smoking, and trading in my cat for a dog that doesn’t pee in the corner.
Nice to meet you 2010, I think this year will be great.
-Me
Monday, November 9, 2009
on your shopping habits and where my paychecks go
It's easier to be stagnant
than to want something to change.
Easier to stay comfortable in our first world living rooms
televisions on, food in the cupboards.
It's easier that way.
Keep your distance
from what and who is broken in this world.
Maybe send a check to a charity.
Yeah, that's the way to go.
It's more difficult to find what is simple
in a world this complicated.
Harder to find time for real life
when the cell phone is ringing
on the bedside table.
We become more shallow as our
accumulation of things and stuff gets deeper.
Acquire, buy, sell, pay the rent, make a profit.
Go to college for what?
So you can equate excess with success
and accumulation with personal growth?
Or are you doing it to do what you love?
To make a difference?
To fight for something that actually matters?
For you and me, I hope it's the latter.
What an empty life and superficial existence.
Yet few fight for more than that.
Sometimes and in some cases, less is more.
I think life is one of those cases.
You can have your designer jeans
and fancy things.
Keep your fifty dollar shoes that
reek of waste and the American Wreck.
Watch the NFL game on your
larger-than-life television screen
that no one really needs.
A family could eat for months (maybe years)
on what we spent last year on frivolities
and junk we won't use again, or ever.
You know how much it takes to provide
a permanent well for a village in need
of clean water?
Water to brush teeth, to bathe in,
to drink to avoid disease and death?
Two thousand. Dollars.
But never you mind.
What I am saying is obviously written
toward somebody else. Not you or me.
We have bills. We are exempt.
Because you need that television,
and that SUV that the pretty
bikini-clad lady told you that you need
to find happiness, and maybe have some sex
or a hot date.
You need job security, and the nice apartment
with a closet full of clothes you will never wear.
When people finally find Love,
and the rich finally meet the poor:
I hope there are no more big screens.
I hope designers go out of business.
I hope that we learn to take care of those in need
before pampering ourselves.
I hope we start to find what is Real and True.
I hope that we fight the American Dream
of excess of waste,
of consumerism and greed.
I hope we turn off our televisions
and go outside
to dance in the sunshine or the rain.
I hope we provide microfinance loans for small businesses,
giving up what we don't need to give to someone else.
Putting others before ourselves.
Learning that looking good and owning lots of crap
just makes you another face in the crowd.
When love wins, I hope there is no 'us' and 'them' anymore,
just people who need one another, who need community.
Just people who know how to Live. Not just exist for themselves.
I hope I learn to be that way too.
than to want something to change.
Easier to stay comfortable in our first world living rooms
televisions on, food in the cupboards.
It's easier that way.
Keep your distance
from what and who is broken in this world.
Maybe send a check to a charity.
Yeah, that's the way to go.
It's more difficult to find what is simple
in a world this complicated.
Harder to find time for real life
when the cell phone is ringing
on the bedside table.
We become more shallow as our
accumulation of things and stuff gets deeper.
Acquire, buy, sell, pay the rent, make a profit.
Go to college for what?
So you can equate excess with success
and accumulation with personal growth?
Or are you doing it to do what you love?
To make a difference?
To fight for something that actually matters?
For you and me, I hope it's the latter.
What an empty life and superficial existence.
Yet few fight for more than that.
Sometimes and in some cases, less is more.
I think life is one of those cases.
You can have your designer jeans
and fancy things.
Keep your fifty dollar shoes that
reek of waste and the American Wreck.
Watch the NFL game on your
larger-than-life television screen
that no one really needs.
A family could eat for months (maybe years)
on what we spent last year on frivolities
and junk we won't use again, or ever.
You know how much it takes to provide
a permanent well for a village in need
of clean water?
Water to brush teeth, to bathe in,
to drink to avoid disease and death?
Two thousand. Dollars.
But never you mind.
What I am saying is obviously written
toward somebody else. Not you or me.
We have bills. We are exempt.
Because you need that television,
and that SUV that the pretty
bikini-clad lady told you that you need
to find happiness, and maybe have some sex
or a hot date.
You need job security, and the nice apartment
with a closet full of clothes you will never wear.
When people finally find Love,
and the rich finally meet the poor:
I hope there are no more big screens.
I hope designers go out of business.
I hope that we learn to take care of those in need
before pampering ourselves.
I hope we start to find what is Real and True.
I hope that we fight the American Dream
of excess of waste,
of consumerism and greed.
I hope we turn off our televisions
and go outside
to dance in the sunshine or the rain.
I hope we provide microfinance loans for small businesses,
giving up what we don't need to give to someone else.
Putting others before ourselves.
Learning that looking good and owning lots of crap
just makes you another face in the crowd.
When love wins, I hope there is no 'us' and 'them' anymore,
just people who need one another, who need community.
Just people who know how to Live. Not just exist for themselves.
I hope I learn to be that way too.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
on the damaging and the beautiful
The more I learn about the malevolent forces in our universe - the conflicts, cultural misunderstandings, corporate greed, corrupt governments, preventable diseases, force-fed democracy, unsustainability, and rampant poverty - the more deeply I am moved to stand for something. To fight for something honorable with my life.
The more I learn about what is damaging, the more I want to create what is beautiful. I wonder why celebrities become more news-worthy than wars or things that matter, hoping to train myself to subscribe to higher thoughts and deeper things someday. When I look around my beautiful apartment, with rarely-worn clothes hanging in the closet, the only word that comes to mind is 'excess'.
Nights like tonight I find myself wanting to trash the excess, throw away anything with a brand name, give away what is useful, and buy a car that runs on trash. Nights like tonight I wonder at the world and all the bitter mixed with the sweet, and I realize that I am just as much part of the problem as anybody else.
I hope I spend my days learning to become part of a solution instead.
The more I learn about what is damaging, the more I want to create what is beautiful. I wonder why celebrities become more news-worthy than wars or things that matter, hoping to train myself to subscribe to higher thoughts and deeper things someday. When I look around my beautiful apartment, with rarely-worn clothes hanging in the closet, the only word that comes to mind is 'excess'.
Nights like tonight I find myself wanting to trash the excess, throw away anything with a brand name, give away what is useful, and buy a car that runs on trash. Nights like tonight I wonder at the world and all the bitter mixed with the sweet, and I realize that I am just as much part of the problem as anybody else.
I hope I spend my days learning to become part of a solution instead.
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