little victories.

My bare feet gently sink into cool mud, and I close my eyes to connect. The sun warms my naked extremities as the grass tickles my soles. “Grounding,” they call this. Let the earth absorb your stress. “Earth,” I say, as I smile to myself, “you can take it all, every last drop!” and let out a deep, heavy sigh. 

The pressure on my chest has been growing these past few days. Change is brewing and staying on top of my sh*t, is exhausting. I take it moment by moment. To get through the days, I make lists of things that need to be accomplished, and I check them off. This provides a certain amount of satisfaction, and keeps impending doom at bay. 

During this time, to keep myself from switching into robot mode, I’ve incorporated the joyous struggle of self-care. A 30 minute yoga video in the morning, going for a walk, cuddling with my kitty, or taking a bath with a beverage in a fancy glass… These little acts of affection and appreciation towards myself help me remember why I am doing this. They bring love back into my life. And, it is the love in these little victories, help me stay present, refocus and persevere.

head vs heart

I find it easy to get caught up in the twists and turns of thoughts going every which way. Lately, I have been working on decision making. For as long as I can remember, I have been indifferent to most decisions, either I didn't trust myself to make a good decision, I felt life would unfold in an unpredictable manner, or I just honestly did not know what to choose.

Not too long ago, a big decision stumbled into my lap. The ultimate decision (insert dramatic music here). And with as much thinking as I am capable of, I starting spinning circles. Upon the recommendation of my wonderful mother, I went to speak to a trusted friend. After that conversation took place, I was transformed by the space for thoughtful and reflective questions.  One of the questions asked was,

"if you could tell yourself what to do right now, what would it be?"

My response took me by surprise, "I don't want someone to tell me 'it will be okay, you will make the right decision.' What I need to hear right now is, 'I believe in you, and I believe in whichever decision you make.'"

Belief goes deeper than making right and wrong decisions. It teaches trust in oneself. Learning this valuable lesson is beginning to transform my relationship with myself and others. Without trust in yourself and your decisions, important parts of yourself that are meant to work together begin to separate. When this separation occurs, the chaos begins. The heart and the head begin raging war against one another. The transformation from enemy to ally takes time, vulnerability and kindness.

My recommendation? Take two minutes with yourself today. Take a few breaths, listen the birds chirping or notice warmth of the sun. Let your head and heart greet one another with a gentle smile.

long story short

"Walk to the beach," I tell myself. A day of sitting at the computer does this to me. It puts my brain into kind of a zombie state, then lights a fire up under my ass. This usually sends me walking out through the trees or sandy beaches.

Out I go, heading in the direction of sandy beaches. Along the way my foot sinks deep into mud gunk that reminds me of clay quicksand. Shrug it off. The lake resembles a mirror as it reflects the rich afternoon colours of the mountains and sky. After awhile I get tired of my steps sinking into the rocky, overly mushy sand. I turn around. So pretty, I sigh.

Walking back, I thought about the first time I came to Sorrento, and this beach. Instead of sinking into mushy sand, I was tromping through deep snow. It was March of 2014, for an interview. At that time, I'd felt like a chronic failure in terms of getting my life on track. Wandering around for years only partially fulfilled; full of nagging curiosities and questions was getting old. The interview weekend was a whirlwind of confusion, and comfort. Getting back into the kitchen felt like riding a bike after years of not. The rusty wheels began turning; parts that hadn't been used in years came alive.

Long story short. A year ago almost to the day, I sat in the same lifeguard chair as I did last night. Dusk was setting in as the bright moon rose. The quiet evening was perfect for my questioning of ambiguity, purpose and impermanence. I asked questions out loud and settled into the stillness of natures response. Surprisingly, I came to a compromise, or rather an understanding that questions don't always have, need, or receive answers. I love them anyway, and can live with that.

poached eggs and pie

My morning started decent, considering it began at 5 am. The regularly scheduled breakfast cook had a day off, and I was taking her place. An added bonus of working the morning shift meant that after work, I had time to learn how to make Melissa Green's famous GF strawberry rhubarb pie. I was pretty stoked!

The menu for breakfast was scrambled eggs, sausages, and scones (celebration of alliteration!). Piece of cake, or so I thought! After putting the scones and sausages in the oven, I was ready to begin scrambling eggs. My brain was still a little groggy, so I was appreciative of the ease and simplicity of the meal.

Wandering into the refrigerator to grab the eggs, my heart dropped; a flat of 30 eggs was missing. This was not the time to be paralyzed by panic. I searched the cooler high and low, no eggs. I muscled the freezer door open, hoping someone accidentally misplaced the eggs (hehe, thinking about it now, turning frozen eggs into scrambled would have been quite the task). What do I do? Scrambling eggs required twice as many eggs as I had sitting in front of me.

I needed to make a decision quick: poach eggs or flip pancakes?

Never having eaten, let alone made a poached egg, I was intimidated by them. Perfect time to learn; plus if I made poached eggs I would not have to clean the grill. Bonus. A "how to" Google search alleviated a bit of anxiety. Then, to my relief, Melissa Green, who could live off of poached eggs, walked through the door. Impeccable timing. Breakfast went off without a hitch. I ate my first poached egg, AND I enjoyed it!

Even though the morning took an unexpected turn, baking pies was the salvation. My day ended with a piece of the best pie I have ever tasted. The crust was delicious and flakey. The vanilla ice cream was the perfect compliment as it slowly melted over the warm pie filling.

I even learned a valuable lesson; if using fruit that has been frozen, do not take the pie out early, let it sit for 45 minutes and expect it to be done. It will not be done. You will have to put the pie back in the oven. You will have to wait an extra long time for pie. I must have used up my patience durning breakfast.

good morning beautiful.

The birds are chirping. Jinx is frolicking. I am enjoying a big bowl of mango a la Evita and with a delicious cup of coffee. Good morning sunshine!

Some say it is a sin to taint coffee with milk and sugar. Which, yes, it does alter the delightful flavor. However, in my book, there are those mornings that call for a straight cuppa joe. And then, other mornings call for the lavish addition raw honey and a dollop of coconut cream. These mornings make me feel like a queen. It is like waking up to someone saying, "Good morning sunshine. Look how beautiful the world is. I painted it for you."

After my parents left on Saturday evening, this small trailer felt large and empty. The two days they spent here, we explored some neat places around the Shuswap. Everything was enamoring; the grass-fed gouda cheese farm, an organic Irish brewery, the rushing waterfalls.

Breakfast with them was my favorite. Farm fresh eggs cooked atop sautéed onions, flopped on a slice of fresh garden tomato. Homemade mango, ginger kombucha. Fresh ground coffee. There was no hurry, just appreciation and satisfaction. It was marvelous.

All things do change at some point. This morning it was obvious, as my wake-up consisted of Jinx readjusting herself in my arms. The morning started out warm and relaxing. When I woke up I knew it would be a queen coffee sorta day. I put on the hot water, took care of some morning business, then stepped outside and gave the world a salutation and cheers.

sleep.

-->

Sleep is wonderful and good. It is even better when you get a full night of it. Since moving into the little trailer I have yet to experience a full night of good, wonderful sleep.  

The first night I was pretty stoked. The air was thick and the Christmas lights made my new home glow, putting my imaginations work to reality. The fan was cranked, the birds were chirping, and in my hand was a cold can of ginger cider. Life was beautiful.

Eventually, my energy simmered and into sleep I went.

Around 4 a.m. I awoke to what sounded like a little girl screaming. Being startled and half awake, I wondered if an exorcism was happening. Seeing the movie trailer for that movie gave me goose bumps, but the thought of that little girl standing outside of my trailer was worse than a nightmare. Finally, coming to enough sense, the voice sounded more like a cat meow than a little girl. “Right,” I thought to myself, “the cat is still outside.” Thank God.

Standing up to let her in, it hit me that I absolutely had to go to the bathroom. Feeling a bit like a pinball while searching for my shoes, sweatshirt, flashlight, and glasses, I made the executive decision that slippers would be enough. The rapid flee to the washroom happened in record time. This would be the first time I’d used this specific washroom. 4 a.m. was the perfect time to realize there was no toilet paper, paper towels, soap or anything. “No big deal,” I told myself, this is what roughing it is all about.

Running back across the lawn, the huge holes in the toes of my wool slippers became enemies as the damp grass saturated them. Not in such a hurry, I also noticed the beautiful sunrise and the goose bumps on my arms. Quickly, I stumbled over Jinx to find my bed ready to top off the morning with a few more hours of cozy sleep. And there I lay at 4:30 a.m., wide-awake with soggy toes, shielding my eyes from the sun.

Yes, I blame the cat for this one too. 

 

snails.

Memory 1: Way back in my childhood days when I found a worm on the road, I would pick it up and kiss it. Maybe I would carry it with me, or possibly return it to 'safe ground.' Whatever my motivations were, nowhere in my memory is any recollection of reasoning behind my actions.

Memory 2: One summer day while at the cabin, I woke up to screaming. Screams means panic. Screams are not funny. Especially when the scream is coming from is your mother, saying something along the lines of, "Why are there SNAILS in my KITCHEN!!!" Oh boy, just typing this still makes me laugh out loud. My mother ABSOLUTELY HATES slugs. Snails are equal to slugs in her eyes.

The previous day, Stacy and I had the grand idea of making a home for a little tribe of snails. We found a bucket for making sand castles and spiffed it up a bit with dirt, leaves and twigs. Not wanting anything to happen to the snails we innocently brought them into the cabin for a sleepover. Of course, we didn't think that snails would want to escape the walls of the castle. But they did, right into my mom's kitchen.

I bring up these memories because I have been running around town. My favorite loop is along a road I call 'the horse and cow road.' The view is so spectacular that it is easy to become lost in the low hanging clouds scattered around the mountains or the the colorful patchwork of trees lining the lake. Once in awhile, especially after a rain, I become distracted by the snails on the road (the snail population increases ten fold). The number of snails terrifies me. I fear my neon running shoes will unintentionally crush one. But I have yet to see a crushed snail and am starting to think that snails have anti-smashing force fields - or drivers are equally as cautious as me.

So last week I was feeling happy when I arrived back at my trailer until I looked down at my front step and saw for the first time, a crushed snail.

Can I blame the cat? 

cat.

Moving to Sorrento, BC I could hardly wait to live in a camping trailer. Simplicity? Adventure? Twinkle lights? Warm summer nights? Absolutely! The trailer was not quite ready upon my arrival, so for the past month Jinx and I have been living on the second level of an old house, in a shared living situation. The rooms sit above a few offices, and a conference room.

Not long after we settled in a couple of the teenagers working for the summer arrived. Company was nice, and socializing timid Jinx was fun. Throughout the day I would hear little comments and exclamations such as, "cat! get out of my room!" or, "ugh, CAT outta my way!" Usually, this was followed by Jinx making a mad dash, sliding across the hardwood floors back into my bedroom.

Jinx was going a little stir crazy being locked inside. She was used to wandering the streets of Victoria, or mouse hunting the woods of Alaska. Dodging feet and playing with pine beetles was the most she could do to entertain herself. So, Thursday when we finally made the much anticipated move to the trailer she could hardly wait to explore the great outdoors.

The morning I let her outside I propped the trailer door open so she knew she was welcome back inside. I was half focused on studying when the sound of her bell (a requirement to warn birds) was rapidly growing louder. This meant one of two things:

1. A bear, wolf, or some creature was chasing her and she needed to be rescued ASAP 

OR

2. She caught a mouse. The mouse was still alive. She wanted to play with the mouse in the trailer.

Looking up, into her eager and proud face, I saw the plump rodent in her mouth and knew she had no plan to stop at the doorstep. Scrambling to get to the door before Jinx was not an easy feat, but I managed just in the nick time. The cat sat on the front step for a few minutes before realizing entering was not an option, so under the trailer she went.

After a few minutes curiosity got the better of me. I opened the door to see what she was up to only to see her bounding toward me once again, with another mouse. Slam! I shut the door and stared through the screen. A minute later she had another!

I am kind of proud. 

date night.

Imagine the sound of rain pounding on glass. The cadence varies from harder, slower, louder, softer. All day it has been like this. When my window is open, I can hear the cars, buses and trucks driving by, splashing, as tires speed through the puddles. Today the rain is comforting, and cozy. Not ideal for a date night, but conveniently the plan is dinner and a movie.

I have a few errands to run before date night. I try to not worry about time, but the library closes in an hour. The bus ride takes 30 minutes. Will that be enough time? If indecision does not linger, I will be fine. 12 minutes before the next bus. Dressed and ready to face the inclement weather, what was I to do with these next twelve minutes? Surely, I did not want head out early to stand in the rain. I wandered to the bathroom.

Standing in front of the mirror, looking at myself, I think, 'why not do something out of the ordinary tonight, it is date night after all.' With rowing back in full swing, I rarely find motivation to fancy myself up. I tidy my hair, add some mascara to my lashes and a touch of gold to the corners of my eyes (in hopes they will magically turn green).  

I catch the bus and make it in in time to the library. I take my time picking out a few movies, mostly light hearted romantic comedies. These are my go to's when life or my thoughts become a little too intense. The movies are my way reminder to not take life or myself so seriously. Good for lightening my mood.

Once my errands were finished I found myself in the darkness avoiding the rain under the overhang at 7 Eleven. Out of the corner of my almost green eye I see a shadow round the corner, walking towards me. Looking up with mild interest, a young lady with an umbrella and glasses checks the bus schedule, she faces me and causally says,

"I hope you haven't been standing there long. It sure is raining hard. I guess that is a sign I shouldn't get dinner at the Vietnamese restaurant by my house. I don't want to walk in the rain. Do you think stew that has been in the fridge for 6 days would still be okay to eat?" It is rare someone speaks to me at the bus stop, so I welcome the conversation, "I would do the smell check if I were you. If it smells bad go to the Vietnamese place. You could take yourself on a date!"

The friendly stranger, looks at me oddly, and takes a moment to think before saying, "well, if the meat smells bad I can pick it out and just eat the veggies. Veggies will probably still be good. Don't ya think?" With no prompting she talks about her interest in Queen Elizabeth, Henry the VIII and them being a part of her evening plans. "What are you doing tonight?" She inquires.

"I am going to make myself stuffed squash, strawberry rhubarb crisp, pour myself a glass of wine and watch a movie." I pause unsure if I should continue, "I am having a date with myself tonight." I smiled as the bright lights of the bus illuminated the stop.

i like airports

2013 and I got along well, and the year that has just arrived is off to a good start. This year, I am not making goals or resolutions because usually, within 2 weeks I've lost motivation and by the third week, the excitement is has faded and life continues on. With that in mind I decided to continue to be intentional about my "feel good" awareness and incorporating it into my days. I created a list of nouns, verbs and adjectives that I can look back on when those low moments arrive and I can re-inspire, remember or reclaim myself. Here are my top ten, in no particular order:

1. Airports, are exciting. They take me to new, unknown places and get me back home. In an airport, I take time to simply sit down and enjoy. 

2. Pen and paper. For drawing or writing. In my journal, I get to gush and be completely honest; a great place to sort through the clutter of the mind and escape into the possible. With drawing, I get to completely focus on the present. With handwritten letters I connect with those at a distance.

3. Jinx. The softest, cutest, and coolest cat in town.

4. Loneliness. In my life, right now, I am faced with loneliness which is much more intimidating in my minds construct of fearing it than the actuality living it. Once I dealt with the fear behind it I have found although, I am lonely this time has also allowed for unabashed creativity, fleeting independence and a romantic peace.  

5. Family and friends. Endless love, support and awesome memories. 

6. New experiences. Joining the rowing team. Finding an awesome new tune or exploring parts of town I have not been too. The new and unexpected are some of my favorites.

7. Hot Chocolate. To boiling water I add: a pinch of pink Himalayan sea salt, a heaping spoon full of quality cocoa powder, a few dollops of canned coconut milk, and either a glob of honey or evaporated cane sugar. This is my ultimate, rainy day pick me up.  

8. Big, beautiful mountains.  Skiing down, hiking up, or staring at them. Nothing beats the feeling of being completely in awe, at the jaw dropping and heart pounding grandeur of big, beautiful mountains.

9. Red Zinfandel. Bold, sexy and full of character, a perfect compliment for the candle lit date nights with myself.

10. Bacon and avocados. Together or separate. For breakfast, lunch, dinner or anytime in between. 

life

I am wondering how do we live a full life when we are exposed to so little in our tiny worlds? We strive the best we can to understand to some varying degree of the ripple effect. The world around us, the people, the ideas and philosophies of ourselves and others. Where are the boundaries of living up to what our expectations are or what others have placed on us? We are all passionate about something, and when passion arises in us it drives us to take action. It is impossible to let is fester. But we must be cautious and not let our passions take such strong hold of us that we forget to be aware that we are not the only being with a passion.

not all who wander are lost

Lately, I have been discovering A LOT of, "this is definitely what I do not want to be doing with my life" thinking. As valuable as it is to know what does not work for oneself, I began to wonder if I was ever going to figure out what did work? I have the pieces but the puzzle still was not fitting together how I thought it should. This all came to a head last week, the night before my biology midterm. It is not easy to study genetics when you are working through a life crisis!

The past 5 years I have been diving into a state of cerebral madness, attempting to figure out my life. Often I had a new idea or I was inspired by what someone else was doing, but nothing seemed to stick. The past month this madness intensified. This was it, time to quit messing around and make a decision. I made appointments with the career counselor, created lists of career options, weighed the pros and cons of each, the length of the program, job satisfaction, salary, were these jobs location specific, etc... I contacted schools, and programs, interviewed people and read books. Pure madness I tell you!

Amongst this fury, sitting down to study for my biology midterm was nothing short of painful. When I don't know what else to do, I bake. So it began. Researching recipes and attempting to push away thoughts of "I should be studying." At that point I was too far gone to retain information on Mendel's law of assortment anyway. Beet cake it is! No sooner had I turned on the oven, the phone rang.

"Hi," a friendly voice said on the line. After the 'hellos and how do you do's,' we got to the good stuff. I expressed my distress over figuring out what to do with my life, and the response was, "I go to the school of life!" Followed by an explanation of what has worked best for them- having jobs that gave them skills they enjoyed doing and that could be applied to life. Working on vehicles, fishing, construction, etc... Hearing about this approach planted a seed. The conversation was finished by a simple, make the cake. Click.

Okay, I had two choices, study or make a cake. At that moment I decided I was going to make the cake, and I was going to do it guilt free. So I did. I spent the rest of the evening a crafting a marvellously, delicious beet cake. I was happy with the process, and the results.

Moral of the story... Following my intuition rather than tradition has been my rock. My intuition is where I find the faith that guides me. I became so consumed with the tradition, and practicality of a job, I lost my grounding. My fear of 'failure' worked itself into unexpected places where I did not want it to be. I am learning as I go along to catch these fears before they take over. I am once again humbled, being reminded I am not alone.

 

smelling the roses

The past week has been beautifully sunny and clear. The clear skies generally mean chilled mornings at the lake, but I love it nonetheless. The sun highlights the vibrant colors of fall and makes stunning a appearance on the rise. Some mornings, I cannot help bursting out in amazement, "Look how pretty it is!" My voice echos across the lake, and we keep on rowing.  

For awhile, uncertainty terrorized my thoughts about being in Victoria. Now, that I am making friends on the rowing team, talking with professionals about career options, and exploring more of the city and bike paths, I feel more settled. Finally, I stopped waking up confused and wondering where where I was. And little Jinx is taking the move well. She loves sprinting along the rafters of the studio, and finding all the new smells and curious things outside.

The first few weeks of school I was biking everywhere. I felt cool on my new bike, dodging parked cars and pedestrians. Usually by the time I arrived anywhere sweat was dripping and I was smelly. I began to notice how intent I had become on going as hard and fast as my body will allow. So focused in fact, that I failed to notice the path I was actually on, which is absolutely gorgeous. The most recent trail I have been enjoying has a tree tunnel lined traveling over a lake, by a school, homes, many pastures and farm land. With the lush vegetation, and the birds singing, it feels as though I wandered into some secret garden. Who would want to opt out on an experience like that?

When I forget to take time to smell the roses, I fail to notice the world around me as I focus so intently on a destination. If I take even just a few seconds to appreciate a moment, usually I see the beauty around me, it can be found anywhere. Plus, arriving at the destination is much more pleasant. With this in mind, I decided that while out and about, I will take time to stop and smell the roses. And the fact of the matter is, it really does work! Last night as I was on my way to the market, I turned the corner and saw the delicate, almost full moon hanging low, just above the tree line. I exclaimed out loud, "Is that for real?!" Soon enough, I may find a more graceful way of expression, but for the time being, this is how it goes.

seasons

Oh how I have a deep and profound love of fall. Today is gorgeous with the bright sun, the blue sky and the faint ripple of white clouds floating in the sky. This is an surprisingly nice day for fall in Victoria. Sitting in the cafe with the sun beating through the cracked window makes it feels like summer is back, but the world outside begs to differ. The trees are yellowing, some have turned to the vibrant fall red, and crispy leaves are beginning to litter the sidewalks and streets. Lately, as I roll out of bed for practice, the crispy air has been bone chilling and lingers throughout the day. Today is different.

Practice begins at 5:30 am. The weather varies from cold, wet, foggy, windy, or calm and clear. Just waking up so early to enter the various elements is the first challenge to overcome. Getting onto the water and getting everyone's mind and body to wake up and row is the second. Then, pushing ourselves to row harder and faster, or longer than we thought we could is the third. There are times when I feel like giving up, someone is there to encourage me to make it to the end. To keep pushing ourselves beyond what we thought we could. Together we are stronger, and we can do it.

School is plugging along and making me wonder why I agreed to the crazy thoughts that brought me here. Studying is getting easier the less I resist it. Understanding the material is opening up an exciting and curious part of my mind. And, it is really bringing my awareness to the skills that come easily to me and the ones that I struggle with. 

Not only am I pushing myself mentally, I am physically challenging myself. Joining the rowing team on a whim was an excellent decision. Realizing how incredible I feel being active and remembering that I can push myself further than I think I can go carries over into school and life.

I admire the dedicated and hardworking people that put so much of themselves into what they do. We are all so capable of being incredible, and when we open ourselves up to receiving that, our worlds change. 

novices welcome

This morning I woke up entirely aware in of every muscle in my body from the neck down. My day carried on with no real excitement. I had just finished studying when I heard the thunder crack! I could not see the rain falling outside since there are no great windows in my studio. So, I fixed my gaze on the skylight to watch the raindrops collect and roll down the window, feeling the dreariness. Barely able to stand up, I forfeited any hope I had to take a ride on the trail. No way did I think I was capable of getting my leg over the center bike bar, and riding in the rain didn’t sound all that thrilling anyway.  

After doing a few chores I decided I’d had enough of being a downer and bundled up in my rain gear and got on the bike. Aside from dodging a slug here and there, biking was literally the breath of fresh air I needed to walk out on my pity party.  Biking in the rain felt exhilarating. Maybe it was the freedom from my own mind or the warm fall air.  

I am still flying between the trapeze bars of transition. I am settled in nicely. Wednesday I saw a flyer for the college rowing team (novices welcome) so I joined (hence the sore muscles) and I have been applying for jobs, studying and learning, but that space in between the letting go of one trapeze bar to catch another is hit hard today. Dwelling in it did absolutely no good, so I decided to force my leg over the bike bar and pedal. To my surprise it was easier than I imagined.

That’s how most things seem to be going here, building things up in my mind to be bigger than they really are. When I actually do whatever it is, it is not nearly as “big or bad” as I imagine it to be. Remembering to remember this is what I’ll be working on this week! 

audra's pep talk to audra

I suppose I am feeling a bit overwhelmed with so many new things. These feelings take me back to the beginning of each move I have made over the past 10 years. College, Ecuador, Colombia, Alaska, Victoria and all of the places I bounced around in between. Then, I think of all the wonderful people I met and how much I've fallen in love with each place. I know I will do okay, it is keeping the nervous, insecure and wondering what I am doing here feelings at bay. On the other-hand, I am excited for the challenge and the possibilities. I am a grown woman AND I know I can do this. I don't need to resort to those old feelings. I am going to shift brain gears and try a different approach. Not one of fear but one of excitement and curiosity. In the meantime, I am going to try to NOT give into the temptation to buy every gluten free product I see. So, raise your glasses up and let's have a cheers to running straight into the unknown!

moving onward...

Here I am smack dab in the middle of another transition.  I took a flying leap from Alaska to Victoria, BC. Although, I landed on my feet in Victoria, my stomach feels like I am still flying through the air somewhere in between Victoria and Kasilof. 

Leaving Alaska happened in a blur. My parents came up for my last week, and helped me pack instead of panic. I get quite sentimental leaving a place that it can make it a little difficult to move on to the next location. I’ve done it enough, one would think it gets easier, but it doesn’t. Just writing about Alaska is pulling on the strings of nostalgia.

Deep breath. On to Victoria, BC. Why am I here? Good question. I am taking a step forward, in a direction.  Which direction? That is what I am here for. I figure any direction is better than being stagnant even though it was a difficult decision to leave my “dream life" in Alaska. Back to direction, I am taking pre requisites for Physiotherapy. I am trying to find a line of work that suits my interest in the human body and pays a little more than minimum wage.

I don’t have a river running through my front yard, the neighborhood moose to contend with, or a beach filled with agates waiting for me to find them as the sun sets. However, I do have designated bike lanes, free run eggs and chop shops, fruit flies and tons of locally grown organic food options. Only having been here for a week, I can already tell I will like it. Why just today I rode downtown and had to make more than a few stops to gorge on the blackberry lined bike trail.

Who knows what this adventure will bring, if I don’t succeed in what I’d hoped to do, it won’t be a failed endeavor. I will still be moving forward and onto the next direction. And more than anything I like learning and I’ll be doing that no matter what!

the raven

Tap, tap, tap. What is that sound? Knock, knock, knock. I lift my sleepy head to see Jinx frozen, peering over the edge of the loft. Tap, tap, tap. Okay, okay I’m coming. After stumbling down the ladder, I make it to the front door. Jinx leaps to the fridge, fixated on something outside. Strange, I do not see anyone at the door. Knock, knock, knock. Looking toward the noise, I see the culprit; a raven pecking at the frozen fish on my doorstep! I chuckle. Oh well, at least I am up early, thanks Mr. Raven.

All the things I hope to achieve today begin surfacing. I debate hiding under my blanket on the couch for a little nap, when my eyes shift to the sky. Wow! I grab my camera, bundle up and head to the river’s edge. The colors and texture of the sunrise were stunning and standing there in the chilly morning, with the sounds of nature took my breath away. 

Walking back to my cabin, I thought about how much I love this. I love living in my cabin, on the raging Kasilof River. Working at the café, and meeting new people has been a blast. I’ve uncomplicated my mind a bit and stopped stressing about useless things. I am learning how to not dwell on my mistakes and be so quick forget my successes. I quit setting high and unrealistic standards for myself based on what I observed other people doing. 

I love that I did not know that spruce trees, as cute and spindly as they are do not make great Christmas trees. Or that one day it is 20 below and the thought of walking outside without my parka, gloves, and boots to pre-start my car burns my skin. Then just days later snow is pouring over my boot tops, and I am sweating from shoveling two feet of snow to make way to my car because it is Christmas and I have places to be.

I love how proud I was that I did not fall on the glare ice that sits between where I park my car and my cabin door because it’s been raining for almost two weeks, and rain freezes when it falls on snow and makes ice. And then today it snowed covering up the ice and I did fall, three times, flat on my back.

I miss my family and friends, doing ski patrol on Wednesday’s, baby sitting and driving around Spokane in the '72 super beetle. I wish I could share with everyone how cute my cat is when she plays fetch or jumps to my shoulder to hang out. Or if I say, "hey dude! what’s goin' on?" she replies with a  meow. 

I wish I could bring you all into these incredible moments I experience. But that is how life is, I suppose. We each experience life, sometimes with ones we care about and sometimes we just have to suck it up, experience them and try to find ways of sharing.

a night time story

-->

Driving home from Soldotna Friday night I was fiddling with the radio, trying to expand my music repertoire beyond my favorite playlist titled, “recently added songs that I like.” I went through a variety of stations, hip hop, classic country, Russian, oldies but was having difficultly finding something that fit my mood. I slowly forgot about the music, wandering into my thoughts and the starry sky.

The drive to Kasilof was nice with so few lights, the crisp pitch-black night and a sky doused in vibrant silver flecks of light. As much as I admire the moon, it was nice to see the full brightness of the stars shining, with out interruption. I was in awe of nature once again, trying to figure out a way to capture everything that moment encompassed. All of a sudden, something in the east caught my eye, distracting me from my thoughts. There is not usually light in that direction, as Soldotna was north of me. Then my heart started racing as I realized what it might be. I immediately pulled over, turned the car off and stepped outside to get a better look. And there they were dancing above me, the northern lights!  I don’t know how long I stood there in awe of natures light display. This is not the first time I’ve seen them, but I was giddy as all could be.

Sometimes I wonder why I am so madly, and undeniably in love with nature. How it is one of the few things that gets my heart racing, and also makes me feel so serene, inspired and simply grateful. I often stare out the window at work longing to be on the beach watching the sky painting itself with the colors of the setting sun. Or on the mornings when I drive through the magical mist, trying to imagine anything more beautiful. Nature is so pure. Every minute of every hour of every day, nature does what she’s intended to do, her very best. It reminds me of this quote: The sun, with all those planets revolving around it, and dependent on it, can still ripen a bunch of grapes like it has nothing else in the universe to do:: Galileo.

mi casa es tu casa

-->

The lodge is winding down and life has moved into a new phase. This transition started out rocky as the end of one job, led into the beginning of another and I felt the weight of my future looming over every decision I made. After much debating and figuring out my goals, I decided to get my own place and stay in Alaska through the spring. I moved into a little cabin on the Kasilof River and am working at a café. Aside from drawing, reading, writing and simply enjoying myself, I am saving up to study Nutrition Therapy.

The past month life has seemed to find a way of being very timely. Once I made my decision to stay the winter in Alaska, I was offered a job, found a place to live and I might even have a car that will make it through the winter. I was also lucky enough to have my parents here to help me with the move and settling into my cabin.  

 

The first week on my own was surprisingly nice. The excitement of home making and having a place of my own that I've been craving for so long kept me distracted. I like the process of enjoying each of my days. I take pleasure in nature, solitude, independence and freedom to make decisions on my own. I read when I want to read, paint when I want to paint and can eat peanut butter and jelly on toast every morning for breakfast. If I don’t want to wash the pan right away, I don’t!

With a new home, and living alone, I have been reflecting on how fortunate I am to have met so many incredible people who were patient enough to love me and take me into to their home. Their generosity is humbling, and inspiring. Even though this cabin is small, I hope to pay it forward. I'm not just talking about with a bed to sleep in, but with kindness and hospitality. So, really, what I am saying is if anyone wants to visit Alaska… I have a futon waiting for you!