I decided to show up at my own life. One manifestation of that decision is a one-month resolution. Year-long resolutions have never worked for me. Resolving to do something for a month allows me to throw myself into the choice with greater vim than I would have otherwise. This month I resolve to take one picture a day and to write something about that picture. Every day. Maybe it's a blog post, maybe it's a short story, or a list, or an essay, or a poem, or a fake advertisement that leaves me cracking up at my own humor at 2 a.m. The point is to be present enough to notice and aware enough to process. The first picture in the series was taken from my bike. A reminder to latch on to the sights around me instead of complaining about a cold commute on two wheels. Because, even on the coldest days, biking to work is inherently a privilege and indicative of other, related privileges.

Sit Tight

It's been six months since my last post. Triple yikes. As most of you know my life has been jam-packed with business...40 hours a week at the school and 2-3 days at the organic farm. And playing softball badly with an awesome team. I feel that so much has changed and so much has just stayed the same. Lately I've been taking a step back to really look at my life and where I want to head next. I think I kept expecting everything to fall into place in one of the many corners of the world I touched down in, But surprise, surprise, no dice. Now, as I look at what steps come next, the focus is going to be less on what is immediately gratifying and exciting and more on what is fulfilling in the long run. But that's a bigger question and damned if I know the answer to it.

I forsee...magic.

My skis were still warm from the wax when I loaded them in the car. I leased some boots, Steve adjusted the bindings, and all the rest of my gear has been loaded in a bag since about 2 days after returning from Argentina. Am I ready to go skiing on Sunday? I do believe so.

11 days in

Let's evaluate my January goals. So far, so good. Not perfect, but decent. I've managed to write every night and do a picture & paragraph for each day. The walk/jog/run thing hasn't worked out, but I biked about 30 miles last week, so I think that was pretty good considering. I finished one book and started another. All in all, pretty good. And now a couple of my favorite pictures.

I resolve?

I usually don't make New Year's Resolutions. I just feel so pressured to succeed with generally-unreasonable goals and then explode. But this year, I was very anxious to keep the ball of personal growth rolling. So I have made what I feel to be some modest goals. The catch is that they are only for one month, most of them. If, after a month, I still like them, I'll keep going for another month. If not, it was a month's worth of trying something out. (Some of these goals were taken from/inspired by this blog.) 1) Document every day with one photograph and one paragraph. Pretty self-explanatory.
2) Define one long-term goal and work on it for 30 minutes every day. Writing. Blogging, journalling, poetry, prose, whatever. This round is just going to be about making a habit.
3) Run 12 miles a week. Multiply by 1.5 if walking and by 4 if biking.
4) The 8th Avenue Bibliophages have committed to reading 24 books by the end of the year. Every time we finish a book, we put a dollar in a jar and at the end of the year we each buy a new book and a new books to donate somewhere.
Other plans for the year include reorganizing the whole garage to make room for seedlings, composting, gardening, as a house we plan to host at least one party/dinner/movie a month, guitar lessons, cooking more, canning, finding people to jam with, etc. etc. etc. We'll see how it turns out! Cheers!

BRB

So Anne picked up a shaky me and all the belongings that had been at my parent’s house because, no, I STILL haven’t unpacked from Argentina. Naturally, by this point, I have already analyzed the situation at least twice, which is enough time for me to mourn the loss of my plans to buy boots for skiing the next day and make some “realistic” diagnoses. I come to the conclusion that I am probably losing my mind and a dormant case of Asperger’s is now wrenching its way up through what used to be the fertile soil of normal social interactions. This conclusion is based on the fact that my mind is routinely racing about, oh, a million miles an hour. In a matter of seconds, it would not be uncommon for me to attempt sweeping, while making a grocery list, planning a reunion, remembering I need to write letters, construct a primitive blueprint for a portable chicken coop, and try to remember the lyrics to the song of an obscure Canadian band. I consistently have to remind myself to be present, to go through those little exchanges make like “how is work” or “how is your family”, that I enjoy the company of the people I’m around, and that I enjoy it more when I’m not wondering if “La Bamba” is played GCF or GFC while standing around a veggie tray. I blame the accident on this spacey-ness. What was wrong with me, after all, that I didn’t see that car in time?

I usually call G Dash (she always blogs about people with their first letter and a dash, so I’m K-, but G dash is infinitely more “gangsta”—a quality I value in a blog) in these scenarios. Our conversations are frequently like “that one bag” that has been around for ages, and keeps reappearing at different relatives’ houses every Christmas. We just recycle the same advice one told the other months ago. Thus after several minutes of me blurting out things like, “I’m pretty sure I’m going crazy” or “What is wrong with me” or “it might be Autism”. We enter Phase I—Let Me Remind You about Yourself. This is the phase where the listener reminds the one melting down about basic pieces of their personality that are glaringly obvious to everyone else. In this case, it is the fact that I always have a rough time transitioning from abroad. I tricked myself. Really well this time. I jumped right into Christmas and parties and visits and…and…and. I thought that since I wasn’t angry like I was after Costa Rica that I must be fine. I even suggested to others that a struggle might happen “eventually”, little realizing that I was/am in the thick of it.

We soon moved on to Phase II—I Offer for Your Consideration…The Obvious! In this case, The Obvious is that I made some major life changes while I was away. I changed all my rhythms—menstrual, eating, sleeping, days off, working, resting, etc. That alone is a big deal. Furthermore, something inside me committed, in a no-turning-back kind of way, to living a more sustainable life. This is a limitless idea. Something I could work on the whole rest of my life and never be satisfied, if I chose not to be. (Damn right I split that infinitive.) I shared every minute of entire days, many, many days with people enormously different from myself and there’s no WAY I was unchanged by that. I made a commitment to live my whole life differently, even if I have no idea, mostly, what that means. I just know it will influence how/where/what I drive, what I eat, where I work, what I throw away, what I wear, what I buy, who I date, what lights I turn on, etc. A reader in Portugal could discern that any kind of major change is bound to incite an uprising of glitches elsewhere.

In Phase IIb we discuss another obvious point—I’m an Introvert. That means that when you could smoke salmon on the fumes coming out of my overworked brain, I’m going to withdraw. When I am thinking about a million things, my brain, out of sheer self-preservation, is going to shut down, often at untimely moments. Like when it could be doing things like, oh, noticing stopped cars in front of me. G Dash pointed out that maybe what my body needs is an amount of introspection that I have currently deemed excessive. I think this is true, as part of the picture. But I know that I need to be around people as much as I need to be alone. Which brings us to…

Phase III—And You Might Also Consider. People change! I changed. People at home changed. And coming back, even if I’ve done it before, means going through that awkward process of reconfiguration. Figuring out which relationships still work. Which ones support the changes I’m attempting to make. Which ones can weather the grey area. Which ones somehow are still the same no matter how many continents I go to. Which ones really care and which ones are just nice to spend an afternoon with. I suppose much of this was obvious to everyone around me even before I left B.A. But I’m putting this out there for several reasons. 1) I don’t want it rattling around in my brain. Per my last metaphor, I am already barbecuing, I don’t need bowling going on, too. 2) To explain that if I’m not talkative, this is not necessarily indicative of discontent. 3) If I don’t call, feel free to call me instead, I’ve probably just forgotten about my phone. 4) And to the people who have those open-ended, toss-ideas-around, listen-to-me-rant, or ask-me-questions-about-xyz…may your blessings multiply sevenfold.

F*ck.

It all started with me smashing the front of my car into the back of another car. Why this didn’t happen when I was 16 and routinely driving 20 miles over the speed limit, I don’t know. I wasn’t texting. I wasn’t on the phone. I just didn’t realize they had stopped very suddenly. I swerved onto the shoulder but not before I nicked their fender with my bumper. So there I am standing on the side of the road, looking at the various pieces of my car littering the side, and somehow, I hear Jenny’s voice (how it wedged in through the “oh fuck.” on repeat is beyond me) telling me to celebrate. That snapped me out of my shock long enough to be grateful that no one got hurt (not even Chris Stanley, my beloved guitar), and that at least their vehicle wasn’t damaged beyond repair. I also probably couldn’t have destroyed the fender of nicer people. How often do people exchange hugs at the scene of an accident? Three surreal things that happened:

1) The elderly lady passenger of the other car offered to help push my car off the road, although she was stopped by her daughter reminding her of her bad back

2) The daughter and some random stranger helped me push it off and the stranger parked behind my car till the police showed up since her mom had been “really messed up” by sitting in her car after an accident

3) As we’re exchanging insurance, phrases like, “Wish we could’ve met under different circumstances” and “Take care and have a happy new year!”

Who has the mental and emotional wherewithal to be so present in such a situation? Maybe you have to lead a pretty centered life to find your bearings so quickly after a stressful situation and be compassionate to someone you have every reason to be livid with. I’m pretty damn lucky they showed me grace and kindness when I mostly hear about rage or icy politeness in these situations. To be continued…