It's Hard To Be Happy

This post has been a long time coming. It's just that right now I need to be writing, reading, and studying other things so it is the perfect time to procrastinate with all the other thought my mind is entertaining.
It seems like everybody around me is in some state of depression. And dear god, I don't even know what depression means exactly. Of course I know that no one is happy all the time, but there is this overarching tension, discontent within the lives of the people all around me. Is it because we are just bored out of our minds doing all this work for something that doesn't seem directly meaningful in our lives? Is it because we live such disjointed lives that we have no fulfilling social interactions? Is it in the food? Do I just attract sad people?

The thing is...I feel it too. I was always a pretty easy-going person until about a year ago when some fresh pain hit me hard with the death of a friend. The whole community of people that I had been rooted to felt it too. And there's so many things that I can blame on the people around me: always telling me to be careful rather than throw yourself in fully, making important things that are entirely unimportant and forgetting the things that are most important...but some of this has got to have birth within myself too.

This all feels so muddled in my head. But, here it is. I am tired of being sad/depressed/whatever. I am tired of my friends/family/people I love being sad/depressed/whatever. So, I'm going to listen to some happy music, finish all these damn finals, write a paper about happiness according to Aristotle that might be complete bullshit, then I'm going to do (for the rest of life) what makes me happy. And that probably entails some vegetables, mountains, baby sheepies in a place where love and pot are legal, country music, good people, and the least complicated life I can imagine.

“What a terrible thing it is to botch a farewell. I am a person who believes in form, in the harmony of order. Where we can, we must give things a meaningful shape. For example - I wonder - could you tell my jumbled story in exactly one hundred chapters, not one more, not one less? I'll tell you, that's one thing I have about my nickname, the way the number runs on forever. It's important in life to conclude things properly. Only then can you let go. Otherwise you are left with words you should have said but never did, and your heart is heavy with remorse. That bungled goodbye hurts me to this day. I wish so much that I'd had one last look at him in the lifeboat, that I'd provoked him a little, so that I was on his mind. I wish I had said to him then - yes, I know, to a tiger, but still - I wish I had said, "Richard Parker, it's over. We have survived. Can you believe it? I owe you more gratitude than I can express I couldn't have done it without you. I would like to say it formally: Richard Parker, thank you. Thank you for saving my life. And now go where you must. You have known the confined freedom of a zoo most of your life; now you will know the free confinement of a jungle. I wish you all the best with it. Watch out for Man. He is not your friend. But I hope you will remember me as a friend. I will never forget you , that is certain. You will always be with me, in my heart. What is that hiss? Ah, our boat has touched sand. So farewell, Richard Parker, farewell. God be with you.” 

― Yann Martel, Life of Pi

More Lambs!

Lambs!

A Strange Adventure

I took a little trip into the desert this weekend with Paige (who took these photos) and a little dog named Willie. Our first stop was Salvation Mountain near Niland, CA. A man named Leonard spent 15 years of his life trying to build a hot air balloon, then devoted the rest of his life to creating this mountain made out of adobe, straw bales, and donated paint. His message is obvious: God is love.  It's painted EVERYWHERE.

The kind man who volunteers there now that Leonard lives in a nursing home offered to take this photo of us.

 Leonard also created a "Museum," which is modeled after his hot air balloon. Trees, tires, car doors, more adobe and straw bales hold up a bunch of little rooms. If feels a bit like wonderland.

It all felt a little odd to me. There were shrines of crosses and trophies and barbies and bibles with 'God is Love' written everywhere. That message just doesn't mean something on its own accord, we only know what it means because we have been told what it means, and I'm not sure I believe what I've been told. And I was baffled that someone would spend there entirely life to build this physical monument to God with a message of which the consequences are unclear. The shrines screamed religious craziness. It just seemed very detached from the world I know. I think I understand putting something new, something of yours out there into the world for other people to see, especially something that has meaning to your life. I just didn't especially connect to this. I can appreciate it for art and for how it has brought this community together. 

So then, we decided to explore the Salton Sea a bit. It is an inland ocean, home to millions of Tilapia and bird species. It was once a popular destination spot, but has since died. Literally. It is surrounded by ghost towns, by salt covered buildings, and floating docks. And, the lake itself is dying. The inflow comes from agricultural runoff, but evaporation is now exceeding input, so it shrinks daily. This lowers the carrying capacity for the fish, which now cover the shores. 

The town of Bombay Beach. 

As we were walking, the feeling and sound of my feet on the ground was really odd. So, I bent down to see what the sand was made of.

It is literally made of dead fish and fish bones. No rocks, no sand....bones.

So, we quickly got in our car and headed back to a place where there is a bit more life. We explored a whole other world that day, it felt like. We even had to go through a weird border patrol station, except we didn't go past the Mexico or Arizona border. The Salton sea may be an example of what we are getting ourselves into by living so detached from nature.

I locked my bike to yours

I was sitting in the library looking out the window listening to Jack Johnson, watching people walk by, watching the leaves swirl up around them as they kicked their feet. And I saw myself doing this. I also saw myself curled up in a ball, hiding my wet face underneath the table I was sitting at. And I saw myself mustering all my Leo-like charisma, walking out of the library with a smile on my face greeting friends and strangers alike, letting go. So I just kept breathing. Breathing in love and breathing out gratitude. In. Love. Out. Gratitude. Belly breaths, you know. Not those wimpy breaths that deprive my lungs of liveliness that I'm used to. 

It's a soft day. Do you know what I mean? Where the softness and squishiness of my all too human body is all too evident. When my thoughts are much quieter and gentler. When abrasive people have the power to demolish me entirely. When I realize how much I love the people who introduced me to the music I'm listening to. And how much I miss them. And how I will miss the people around me the same way I miss the people who were once around me. And I notice how the fall air feels on bottoms of my toes. And how that new conditioner makes my hair feel so soft on my neck. 

And the pain of the of our lives continues. Progresses, even. That's one of those words that makes me cringe--progress. Praw-gress. Pro-gress. And today, I don't just know there is pain, but I feel it deep within my squishy body. It makes me long all the more for new human connections, for deeper human connections. For moments when I think of dear friend, then moments later my phone glows illuminating their name and a message or call from them. For those moments when a smile from someone who seems to be a stranger but feels like a past sister or brother.  

And there will be more pain in the world tomorrow than there is today. But the softness of today is gentle enough to feel the pain and at the same time notice the goodness that balances it. 

Grow Old

I grow old . . . I grow old . . . 

I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

But the sun does not cause us to grow.

It is the rain that will strengthen your soul.

It will make you whole. 

"You're too old to be so shy," he says to me so I stay the night

Just a young heart confusing my mind, but we're both in silence.

a half-finished love affair

I woke up on the right side of the bed today...then I saw Cloud Atlas and it got even better.

It was a story version of I Am (for those of you who have seen that documentary), a story of human connection, of how our lives are connected to past lives, other present lives, and futures lives...in somewhat of a Samsara kind of way, but also in a way us dualistic westerners can make sense of. Our actions, our love, our kindness, and even our evil affects the lives all around us, the lives of people who will come after us, and likewise our lives are affected by those who have come before us. It is stories of people who give up their lives for the good of others, for the good of life altogether, and for life to come. A story of love--the ultimate connection we make with others.

If I am asked what kind of spirituality I have, I would say that it's the most practical a religion could be. I feel so connected to the life around me, to people, to plants, to animals, to the earth, that talking about metaphysical beings or after-life seems useless and meaningless. I find so much meaning in the life around me, I need nothing more. What an idea this movie suggests that when we meet people who we feel we've known forever,  perhaps we have known them in a previous lifetime. Or, when we lose someone we feel a deep connection to, maybe we know them in another life, later. Not the most rational thought, but logic is pretty useless anyway. What a beautiful thought, though. And, it's different than the afterlife, because it's within the beauty of life as we know it, not some made up, imagined future universe. I know I've felt it/I feel it.

That's my pitch. Go see it. Disclaimer: you may weep. I know I sat in between my two friends, all three of us weeping.

"Fear. Belief. Love. Phenomena that determine the course of our lives. These forces begin long before we are born, and continue long after we perish."

I mean...how could I not post this?

I'm really enjoying this fall morning. Mornings are so pleasant, it's a shame so many people, me included, rush past them so often.

autumn and growing up

It's about that time again...for me to put something of mine out there into the world from the inner-working of my soul. I've felt incredibly reflective lately in the last few months of the year, as the weather is changing, and I shiver all the way home on my bike, and the air and life around me feels so pungent-or even poignant. This endless summer in southern California had me in a fit of frustration as all I wanted was to wear scarves and sweaters, eat pumpkin and roast roots and squashes, and feel the cool air on my skin reminding me I'm alive constantly. Now it's finally here and thoughts of home, apple trees, raking leaves, fireplaces, and apple cider haunt me constantly.

Frustration and stress have been the defining words of this last college semester unfortunately. I've noticed habits of shallow breathing and teeth grinding to be taking over my normally easy-come-easy-go approach to life. I've medicated myself with slow mornings, lots of herbal tea, daily yoga, trips into the foothills, and dancing, which works most days. However, I seem to have outgrown this home, and all my self-medicating doesn't seem to help. It's about time for a new phase in life, one in which I can maybe make sense of these past years of fast-paced learning...preferably in a garden or on a farm in a place with seasons, but I'll take what I can get. Don't get me wrong, I could write a book about all I've learned, tell hundreds of stories of the people I've met and adventures I've been on, and shed countless tears about the people I leave behind along with this place, it's just the perfect timing for me to try something else now.

But, for now, I feel so grateful for the people around me. As isolating as it can be to go to school here, I've been dropped into a small niche of people who speak honest words and explore the depths of what it means to love. As long as I am open to it, I am received by friends, roommates, and professors with so much love, joy, kindness, and gratitude. And as corny as it may sound written here on this blog, those moments where people show me just an inkling of those good things, I feel like I'll make it through the day.

(Don't hate.)


I got to take part in an intense event this weekend called the Whitney Classic. It was a bike ride that began at 3 pm on Saturday. Riders began at Badwater in Death Valley at -282 ft, climbed two 5000 ft passes, grinding through the night, and ending at Mt. Whitney Portal at 8365 ft. the next morning. There were three long climbs, with a total elevation gain of 15,300 ft. I drove as SAG (Support and Gear) for a new friend, meaning I drove ahead of the biker every few miles, parked on the side of the road in the middle of the desert, got out of the car and ran around a bit and did a couple jumping jacks, then handed off a new water bottle or food or clothing whenever he passed. Then I got in the car and did it again....over and over for 18 hours. There is so much solitude in the desert, a kind of mysterious beauty I haven't found elsewhere. When the moon was rising over some mountains and I was pulled off the road, my ears began to pound, straining to hear something. The silence was so intense it nearly hurt. 

It was pretty meaningful to watch people push themselves beyond their limits physically and mentally. The friend I was helping out would get to the car and just keel over, looking like he was going to vomit, and his morale was completely gone, the allure of the event being gone in the first 40 miles, and the realization of pushing yourself beyond miserable having set in. What encouragement could I give to someone I just met recently? It amazed me that he just kept going--the mental capacity it takes to push yourself beyond your limits is completely unknown to me. Usually when I watch similar things, like mountaineering and climbing videos where people are miserable the whole time, I am completely averted and have zero desire to do the same thing. However, after this ride, I was intrigued as to whether I would be able to handle it, and the knowledge and confidence of self that would result whether or not I finished. 

I told myself I would write more, and I feel like I'm failing at that (as far as this blog goes). So, here's a post to writing more (however, I'm not sure exactly what I have to say).

It's a time of change in my life, as it is every few months. There are new people in my daily life, new books, new ideas, new music, new adventures to be had, and new things to be learned. I've noticed two themes this semester already. One is getting out of this city and going on adventures--hiking, biking in the canyons, going to beautiful places that I haven't been to before, and going to beautiful places I already love. I forget sometimes that being in beautiful places makes me feel so much more real, more alive, more like myself, and without it, I tend to lose sight of who I want to be. The second theme of this semester, and somewhat related to the first, is figuring out who I am and what I want. I have spent the last 21 years absorbing countless new ideas about life and along the way, I haven't had much time to reflect on what those things mean for my life. And this means simply taking more time to think about what I want--while I eat breakfast, take a tea break, go for a walk, go for a bike ride, swim in the ocean...I try to imagine the life I want. And in my schoolwork, I've been able to tweak most of the paper assignments to be about my worldview, my understanding of the material and what it means for me, rather than doing my typical routine of arguing or explaining another person's point of view without actually contemplating what I think about it. And I'm really excited to do this. It requires a part of my brain I haven't used too much in college, and it is something meaningful to me.

Moreover, I'm surrounded by people who are full of life and joy and laugh at all my jokes and like to dance. And we have a pet rat who makes me happy. I'm realizing my relationships make life worth the rough days and rough moments and the poison oak and confusion and fear of the future. So do one dollar bottles of wine and cooking tasty food and planting sunflowers. Christopher McCandless may have been right that "happiness is only real when shared."

Been seriously diggin this song

Road trip of a lifetime

To get to school in sunny southern California from my childhood home in Illinois, this year I decided to forgo my dedication to Southwest airlines and put my right foot to good use as I drove across the country. Accompanied by my dear friend, Matt, and all of our shit acquired in the last twenty something years, we began by heading north to Devil's Lake State Park near Baraboo, Wisconsin (where my brother got engaged earlier this summer!). We met some old folks who had been climbing since 1969 who let us climb a route they had drunkenly set up. Matt suggested we jump in the lake afterwards, and so we did, along with some citizens of bass lake who came out at dusk to eat some bugs off the surface of the water. I thought the bats were going to hit my head, but their sonar seemed to be functioning perfectly.

Day 2, we headed to the Badlands National Park in central South Dakota after climbing a bit more in the morning and delighting in some well-crafted tacos at Taco Bell that hit the spot. Camped, hiked, saw some big horned sheep (cool!). The strange rock formations give off an eerie vibe, but they're something to see! We hit the road, saw a bunch of jackelope (I sate on one!), saw the stunning Black Hills as well as Mt. Rushmore and Crazy Horse. Sped through Wyoming, stopping in both towns for gas, as there literally were two towns. Got to Dubois (pronounced Doobies by Matt), had some delicious grub at the Cowboy Cafe served by the cutest waitresses outside of Scandinavia. Hunted furiously for a campsite once we got to Grand Teton National Park. Driving at night on windy mountain roads with constant signage saying to watch out for wild animals seemed terrifying and the signs seemed overkill...until we drove underneath a Moose, or might as well have. Stunned by the height and size of the Moose that scurried off the road, we happily took a day off the next day and futzed around the Tetons.

We were off! For a three day backpacking trip in the Tetons. Death canyon trail loop, more specifically. We hiked up a gorgeous canyon, following a rambunctious river until it mellowed out. We were pooped and found a lovely campsite between fields of dancing wildflowers. We hiked out of the canyon to the shelf above, jumped in a lake and found campsite 2 near the pass we would be heading into in the morning. Matt had a few dramatic moments after seeing a cloud approaching and desperately wanting the comforts of home. The hike the third day was awesome. Through the pass, to Mordor (basically), views of two canyons, through varied forests, out through the canyon, and to the car. Great sights, no bears (kind of  a let down), good company. Couldn't have asked for much more.

After some showers, we headed to Yellowstone the next day, for a three hour drive from the south to the north end of the park. Along the way, we saw Old Faithful erupt, a heard of bison napping, and a few elk crossing the road in front of us. What a show. We kept on going to Glacier National Park. Got there late, campsites were all full, so we slept in the car. Affected by tiredness and frustration and darkness, we were terrified of a bear that may or may not have existed. We couldn't get to sleep until we retrieved the pickle bucket from the roof of the car. We got up before the crack of dawn and drove the Going-to-the-sun road through Glacier.

Glacier is breathtaking. Especially at sunrise. Huge glassy lakes, peaks that intrigue and ask to be explored further, meadows full of wildflowers, big-horned sheep and mountain goats and hoary marmots that rule the land, trickling streams and waterfalls, and it feels like it goes on forever. We found a campsite early and bought some fish and chips and a glass of Moose Drool for lunch while we watched it rain from our comfy booth inside. Relaxed by taking a nap, reading, and strolling by the lake.

Next day, we headed to Mt. Rainier. The drive in the morning out of Rainier and northern Idaho was really pleasant and most of the day rolled by quickly. We stopped to jump in the lake and clean up a bit before getting to Ohanacopesh on the south side of Rainier. West Coast, baby. The trees are taller, a sense of majesty lurks, the rivers runs wilder and bluer, and it feels a bit more relaxed. Found a great, secluded campsite and slept our worries away. Headed up to Sunrise in the morning and were surprised by how chilly it was until we saw the great white mountain covered from head to toe in glaciers! We went for a fairly short hike through fields of lupines, patches of snow, and blue, blue lakes. We drove to Paradise on the south side of the mountain for some lunch and postcard-writing session. Found a campsite outside of the park.

Surprise trip to Seattle the next day for Top Pot donuts and coffee, Pike Place Market, and some cheap Thai food before we went toward Matt's home in Oregon. At sunset, we were driving through the gorge, and I was enjoying life. We saw the orchard business at work in Hood River. Next day, walked up an icy river in a bright green, mossy canyon to a waterfall deep in a narrow canyon. And headed to the Portland area for a yummy dinner. The couple days we spent in Portland were so nice. I got to catch up with a dear friend, get to know some new folks, eat some blackberries, and relax a bit.

I left Portland much too quickly for my liking. The rest of the journey I was on my own, meaning I made about 50 phone calls to keep me entertained. Driving the Oregon was pure joy. By far, the best state to drive through out of the few we saw. I crossed the border to California and headed to the coast, stopping the majestic redwoods and Crescent city right along the ocean. Those trees and pretty cool, so much character. After 10 hours of driving alone, I was happy to have a bed in Redding to sleep in. I crashed, made a Belgian waffle in the morning, mmm, and drove a comparatively short 5 hours to Bass Lake, a place that has felt like home many times.

Spent a couple days there catching up with everyone who lives there, swimming in the lake, doing some trail runs, and taking advantage of the opportunity I had to walk slowly and think deeply at a changing time in my life. Drove down to Azusa with a friend who provided some nice company. I'm now all moved in to my house of hippies. I was pleasantly surprised to find a room of my own for the semester. Without many of my friends at school this semester, I am feeling more independent than usual, and just when I was starting to feel less of a desire to be so independent. It makes for a good time to keep in touch with my friends all over the country and world, finish well in school, meet new friends, and make some money (hopefully).

This has been long, but there was a lot to say. I made somewhat of a pact to myself to write more, so maybe this is the start of that. Godspeed!

Photos to come!

Speak, soul sister, speak.

That's all. This is my friend's blog. I miss her dearly.

So, it's been about a month since my last update...so it's about the usual time for me to reflect and write a bit.

2 more weeks of school. I couldn't be happier to dig my nose out of these books and try to get myself back together--remember what I really care about, take some deep breaths, let out some deeps laughs, and think about the people and things I care about. I wish those things weren't what my mind pushes aside when it's full of philosophy homework.

I feel I'm always too slow. Too slow to say what I mean to say. Too slow to even think of what I want to say before the moment passes. Too slow to get my thoughts together in class. Too slow to add to a discussion in class. Too slow to realize how much I care for someone before they've been hurt by me not knowing I care. That's where my slowness hurts the most. When I care for people with all my heart, but I just don't know it soon enough to tell them and show them. The worst is when they have already been hurt without me even knowing. I just feel like an idiot...and cold, I feel cold. I'm too slow to make decisions about the future, letting opportunities pass me by. I'm too slow to initiate...anything, especially friendships and intimacy.

Sometimes I just feel broken, like my brain and heart don't function like everyone else's.

So now the semester ends, and I fear I have been far too slow at far too many things. And my friends are all graduating or leaving to travel the world. And I feel a deep loneliness coming towards me like I never have before, and it scares every bone in my body.

And, on the other hand, I'm leaving this semester with more confidence than ever before. And it's not a facade of confidence either, but a confidence instilled by someone I respect and will always care deeply about. And in the meantime my list is getting longer--my list of people I love deeply but only see on rare occasions.

Eeet's Spring!

Happy first day of spring! Happy Equinox!

This means, the day will be almost 12 hours long! 

In all those cold places, life will be popping up out of the cold, [seemingly] dead ground.

And soon school will be out, and I can play. 

Here's to blue skies, life, riding bikes, road trips, full days, wild flowers, and whatever else Spring makes you think of. 

On plants and love

A combination of an early morning, a cup of coffee, cool air, and a good bout of cleaning has left me wanting to write something reflective of the past couple months and what I am up to these days. However, I simply opened this page without any thought of what I was going to write...so now I'm at a loss for words (and subject matter).

I have stared out the window for a sufficient time now to have something to write! I've been growing some plants on the porch of my apartment for a couple months now, and I am really pleased with how well they are doing. I have 6 Swiss Chard plants that are thriving in the Southern California sun and spring rains, despite because stuck in a pot in the suburbs. I have a some little sprouts of lavender that I started from seed and are slowly coming up out of the dirt. And then some Cilantro that could be happier, but is doing alright. For my first try at growing edible plants in pots, I am feeling fairly successful! Now would be a good place to put a photo. But, that's not happening. Maybe I'll post a photo of the harvest and what food comes of it!

And now for a completely different subject...I have to read and write philosophy every day for class, but usually I just stop thinking philosophy outside of homework and class. However, lately there are a few subjects I just cannot get off my mind. One of which is why we love. A lot of philosophers that I have been reading lately have something to say about what it means to love or what a union of friendship is. I find myself looking back over my life and over my relationships to find the meaning of mutual love in my life. And with my friends and my family, their characteristics could be entirely different and I would still l0ve them. The time I have spent with them has deepened our love, but is not the source. So, I don't really know what I am saying at this point...other than that's about the extent of my thoughts. I love the people I do for reasons that are not all that clear and for this that do not change all that easily.

A friend of mine posted this the other day, and now I want to share it too. I think it's sweet. It is a letter from John Steinbeck to his son, Thom, who had fallen in love at boarding school.

i'll never do homework again now that I found kinfolk

Honey Harvest from Kinfolk on Vimeo.

Visualizing a Plenitude Economy

I came across this today. It's something I would love to see in my community and I hope other people are excited about building social capital rather than making the consumer culture a priority in their communities.