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."