Where I am.

I’m a little out of rhythm. Out of rhythm of writing, yes, but out of rhythm of living, too. I guess that’s what being sick is.

Last week I finally took the initiative and dove into The Great Purge. I was fierce and fast and exceedingly effective. I was on my way to having it all taken care of likely within the week. But then.

I hate that so often it is when you are burning bright and really accomplishing something that you are struck down physically. Why must that be? After years of not getting The Great Purge done, I’m finally motivated and wholly committed to it’s completion in short order. Instead I’m weak and in bed with a chesty cough.

I don’t mind being reminded to slow down and relax now and then, but this time it’s more like I’m being mocked. You’re getting something monumental done? Mu-ah-hahaha, now I have you! *Bang!* Struck down and doing nothing.

The process of The Great Purge is a difficult one in places. It’s fantastic to finally have access to all my things after all these years, and to ruthlessly sort and mostly purge. However, when I get to the items that bring up memories lost, of a self that is no more, it can become emotional. There is no better way to realize how we modify our memories than to go through this process. It’s strange, it’s difficult, and sometimes it’s wonderful.

As I lay here in bed recovering, pining to be working again, I most of all cannot wait to have less, and to have that little bit completely organized. To me that is freedom.

The place of pondering.

I sit here on a lovely rainy day pondering. I think that’s one reason I love rain so much – the sound is restful and somehow rejuvenating and in that it gives my mind time and space to consider without the usual stresses. Well, that can happen so long as I don’t run headlong into my day, at least.

What came to mind as I listened to the trickling of the water in the drainpipes, the drops touching down on various surfaces, the swish of the distant cars as the fresh puddles shoot out from below their tires, was the Way of the Tao.

Isn’t it interesting how sometimes you pick up books at random, in a moment you want something different than what you’re in the middle of for instance, and in the end they all seem to relate? One night recently, on a whim, I picked up the tiny tome call What Is Tao? by Alan Watts. Concise as it is, it manages to effectively convey the essentials of the Tao. Having finished that, I grabbed The Tao of Pooh and now and then delved into this easy read.

The thing that most effects me about the Way of the Tao is that it is in the rhythms of nature. It isn’t the worship of nature, but is a kind of respect for nature that we whom have grown up in Western cultures can’t truly understand immediately. This is because in the Eastern cultures they don’t see human beings as standing apart or dominating over nature, but as an integral part of it, fitting right in to it. From a Western perspective, this is revolutionary.

When I started reading these two books, I was already making my way through John Muir’s My First Summer in the Sierra and No Impact Man by Colin Beavan. John Muir was a devout Christian, yet he saw the hand of the divine in nature. When speaking of poison oak and poison ivy he said, “Like most other things not apparently useful to man, it has few friends, and the blind question, ‘Why was it made?’ goes on and on with never a guess that first of all it might have been made for itself.” John Muir may never have know about the Tao, but he understood it.

In No Impact Man, Mr. Beavan talks about the day that he and his family had planned on walking across the bridge from Manhattan to go to a birthday party, but when the day came it wasn’t just raining, it was a torrential downpour. So instead, they stayed home and relaxed and just spent time together. No rushing off in a cab to do the 101 things that we all pack into our “time off” because they were on the journey of a year without making a negative impact on the environment. That day more than any other he felt how the rhythms of nature, even in the middle of one of the busiest cities in the world, is within each of us. He noticed how when we pay attention to these things, when we move within them, we are happier and more connected to the people around us, not just nature.

One of my favorite stories so far from No Impact Man was how on another day when it was raining, he was walking somewhere or other with his daughter on his shoulders. Feeling guilty that because of his choice to do this no impact challenge his daughter was having to be out in this weather. He was trying to hold the umbrella so that she would not get wet, but she was crying. Then a gust of wind blew the umbrella over and rain poured on both of them, and his daughter stopped crying. After he righted the umbrella she started crying again. After a couple of times of this he realized that she’s not crying because she was getting wet, rather she was crying because the umbrella is stopping her from getting wet. In his words, here’s his realization in that moment:

“And on this rainy day, here is what happens when I treat my body as something more than a means to transport my head, when I finally learn to treat the landscape as something more than the space that stands between where I am now and where I want to be later:

I take Isabella down from my shoulders and let her jump in a puddle, soaking her shoes and her pants. For fun, I jump in the puddle, too. Isabella laughs. She stretches out her arms with her palms facing up to catch the rain. She opens her mouth, sticks her tongue out and leans her head back. I try it, too.

When did the child in me disappear?

People are running past. They look desperate, miserable, trying to get out of the rain. What has happened to us?”

I think I’ve always kept the child in me, splashing in puddles and loving playing in the rain, for instance. But also, I am a person of the journey, appreciating the path often more than the destination. Also, I have often felt that there is no place better to find the divine than in nature. To connect with the Way of the Tao has for me been more of an understanding of how I relate naturally as well as how I move through the journey.

Reading the Tao Te Ching, the main source of understanding the Tao, is an interesting process this time around. It is causing me to question my ambition. But it is also giving me permission to find rest and contentment in this time of intense struggle with my situation and my lack.

In sharing this, I’m not saying I’ve converted to some new faith, but rather that I feel knowing about the Tao enhances and deepens the faith I have. It gives me a mind for the whole rather than a part. I see creation, not simply man, when exercising my faith. I have always had an affinity for this way, but until it was explained to me I accepted the idea of man’s domination, if uncomfortably.

I think when I started to see the world in this ancient way, I also understood how much less I need in order to feel the fullness of joy. If you know me or have been reading here for a bit, you know that I’m a purger, trying to keep myself free of so much stuff that weighs us down. But isn’t it so much a better idea to simply not collect these things so that there is no need to purge? I’m not saying strive to be an ascetic and live in deprivation, but more to be thoughtful in what you buy. To have less stuff is to have more time because you needn’t work so much to get it and you have less to clean and sort and put away. Not a bad trade.

I look forward to exploring the Way of the Tao more. I look forward to feeling the rain on my tongue and appreciating the wind on my face. I look forward to being fully present and having the time to connect wholly with those around me. I look forward, but only in that I am completely engaged now so I know whatever comes I will be the same then – engaged and ready.

Ten on Tuesday.

I thought I'd join in on this week's Ten on Tuesday. I tend to prefer when the questions are interrelated as well as on a topic that interests me, but this week's questions do touch on travel and the outdoors, so I figured I'd give it a go...

1. What two cities should be moved closer together?
Gosh. I’m not sure. I think I like the journey too much. But I think it’d be wherever I am to wherever I want to be next. Yet, that’s not right either because I’d not like Edinburgh, Scotland to be down the road from Los Gatos, California. That’d be creepy and ruin the point.

2. What was the first plane ride you took?
No idea – was way too young. I remember the first plane ride I took alone. I was seven and went on a plane from Northern to Southern California to visit my grandma and grandpa. It was so exciting to be doing this on my own that I can even tell you what the sundress I was wearing looked like (this was in the days when one dressed nicely to travel).

3. What continent would you most like to visit?
All of them. And I will.

4. What’s your favorite place to window-shop?
I don’t like shopping, really, so mostly I hunt online (and still don't much like it). Although I did a browse through REI on Saturday and enjoyed it a lot. Got me excited for hiking in nature and traveling the world – two of my favorite things. Back when I had a place to do my art, my answer would have been Home Depot.

5. What’s the least fun you’ve ever had at a place specifically tailored for fun?
Well, because I read someone else’s answer to this question, what comes to mind was when I went to this really cool event, a Mayfest, at the Tourist Club on Mount Tamalpais in Marin County last year. We had to hike down this really steep grade to get to it, and once I got down there I got an insane migraine. It was quite hot and heat makes my migraines explode. I’m miles and miles from anything resembling a place to rest, I rode with a group in a beat up SUV with no working air and no apparent shocks, and all there is available to drink is, of course, beer... which will only dehydrate me and make the pain worse. There was traditional German polka-like music replete with screeching (so it seemed to me) horns blaring, bodies everywhere in a relatively small space, barbecues heating it up more and sending smells wafting everywhere that made me feel like puking even more, and a blazing bright sun shining in my eyes to sharpen the pain up to the nth degree. I didn’t want to spoil the event for the rest of the group, but I thought I might just curl up and die somewhere. The worst was all those hours and hours later when we left, I still had to walk those several miles up that incredibly steep grade in the heat. Hell of a day. Funny thing was it was such a cool event that even in that state I wanted to become a member of the club.

6. You’re stuck on an island with plenty of food, a companion, and a relatively stress-free lifestyle. What do you say when the rescue ship comes?
It took me a long time to come up with a real answer for this. But then I remembered. Island fever. When on Maui, one of the most beautiful places I’ve visited, I realized that I’d not be able to live there very long because I would get serious island fever... mostly because I love to explore, it’s my nature to my core, and once it’d all been explored (including the water around the island), no matter how wonderful and simple my life was (which is ideal in my book), I’d go stir crazy pretty quickly. Though, I could ask the rescue ship to send us a helicopter so that when we want to we could take jaunts off the island. Then I’d not feel trapped. The other thing is, where is this island? In the middle of the Pacific Ocean thousands of miles from anything, or just off a coast somewhere so that if we built a canoe we could paddle off now and then? Also, if the island is New Zealand, I’M STAYING.

7. Which day of the week do you look forward to most?
This is going to sound so stupid, but I love Thursdays. Always have. I can’t explain it. I don’t know that it’s the one I most look forward to, but I do love me my Thursdays. I think I look forward to the days I know I will be doing something I love doing or will be with someone I love, or be doing something I’ve never tried before... and that’s never on a specific day of the week.

8. What’s your favorite place to enjoy the great outdoors?
Anywhere in nature, I guess. I love the forest, but I also love the ocean. I’m not big on deserts, but that’s mostly because of my issues with heat ever since I got heat strokes 15 years ago. Well, that and I DON'T love dry, dusty, barren places. I love lush, green, moist... with creeks flowing through the dense trees and secrets to discover, as well as the wildlife that comes with that environment. Then, too, the sound of the crashing waves of the ocean... especially in the rain. Or if in someplace lovely (like the afore mentioned Maui), then snorkeling all day long and seeing the wonders of that sort of wildlife! I feel like nature is my temple, so entering it in any form is a way for my soul to be refreshed. (Perhaps that is why I prefer the moist, lush places... though even in the deserts I can experience this.)

9. What’s on your “to do” list this summer?
Hmm. Well, number one would be moving to Scotland. But before and after, going on as many hikes and jaunts into nature as possible. Potentially getting back to cycling. Mostly remembering to find restful moments to just partake and enjoy... whatever is around me. And continuing in my quest of purging the detritus of life – both internally and externally. Less stuff, less clutter, getting to the bare minimum externally. No more mass amounts of storage. Just my books, some quality kitchen things, and some lovely bits that bring me joy. Internally getting rid of the junk that weighs me down, that detracts from living my best life, from being as open as possible to those around me MUST GO. Freeing myself of those annoying thought processes that cause me to think “I can’t” is another big part of this detritus I’m purging. Also, to continue to find more ecologically sound ways of living, wherever I may be, and reducing my waste as much as possible. Mustn't forget, watching the Stanley Cup Playoffs.

10. Which natural disaster freaks you out the most?
I don’t really get freaked out by such things. I’ve been in intense blizzards without power, some of the worst earthquakes in recent history, and even a hurricane or two. I don’t think I’d like to have my home (such as it may be) taken out by any of them, but why dread what we have no control over? I will say that as a kid I’d have nightmares about Tsunamis. But they were cartoon-like dreams where the giant tidal wave would suddenly be overcoming the towering downtown of a big city. And there I'd be running, knowing it was useless. Interestingly, I neither lived next to the ocean nor in a big city with high rises... so go figure. But, because I love water so much I think I’d be really sad to experience its devastating powers, whether through floods or hurricanes or tsunamis. Also, I have this weird sort of feeling that if my stuff was all taken from me in this way, it’d sort of be freeing. It’d be hard because I have things from family whom have passed on, yet it’d be so releasing – I’d be able to be the nomad a really am without worry over stuff. Even if it’s stuff I LOVE. I’m a weirdo, aren’t I?

Okay, I just wrote all that, and then realized I would totally be freaked out by potential avalanche if I ever was somewhere where that was a possibility. Being buried alive is a horrific enough thought, but to do it while freezing is worse somehow. Yikes.

So there you go. A little more about me you mightn't have known.

Currently.

I saw this on a couple of blogs I enjoy and thought I’d follow suit. Yes, I’m a bit late to the game.

Current Book(s): See sidebar (how i roll: i'm reading). I really am reading all seven of them. Not my norm to be reading so many at once, but it’s where I’m at just this moment I guess.

I’m not liking Catcher, but the rest are really interesting in entirely different ways. No Impact Man is not at all what I expected, so personal and funny and conversational… I highly recommend it.

Current Playlist: Mostly classical with traditional Celtic thrown in now and then. Okay, and Celtic drinking songs, too. They’re hilarious.

Current Shame-Inducing Guilty Pleasure: I don’t really do shame or guilt. Not in relation to pleasure, at least.

Current Drink: Chai, nice and spicy with no milk. When I lived in Italy I would fantasize about it and refer to it as “the nectar of the Gods.” It’s just next to me now. But also I found an old favorite wine the other night, Marqués de Cáceres Grianza and while it’s not as fabulous as I remember (or at least this vintage isn’t as tasty), I have still been enjoying it wholeheartedly with my homemade suppers the last few nights.

Current Food: Hmm, well I sort of had a festival of food this weekend in that I thoroughly enjoyed cooking up all sorts of lovely dishes from scratch… unfortunately the steak I grilled to go with my potato and mushroom au gratin, which I purchased last minute from the local Safeway rather than the market with the proper meat section, seems to have been bad so I tried to sooth my stomach with some of my homemade Irish soda bread I was trying to save for tomorrow’s breakfast. Fingers crossed it helps!

Current Favorite Show: Well, it’s not officially airing it’s last episodes for another week or so, but Saving Grace, absolutely. I can’t begin to say how deeply this show effects me.

I’ve been thinking about this recently because I’ve been trying to decide when I move what shows I’d still want to try to catch. As cheesy as this sounds, Bones made that list. Castle didn’t, but came close. I still love House, but would be okay without it I find.

Mostly I watch tons British shows, so whichever one I’m into at the moment would likely make the list (the advantage of them is that they only last from 6 to 8 episodes a season so it’s not exactly a long-term commitment). At this moment, that is Kingdom and Blackpool.

Current Wishlist: A job in and a ticket to Scotland. Oh, and my financial woes thrust upon me on the sly by my ex-boyfriend to magically disappear.

Current Needs: Money for the ticket, and the job of course.

Current Triumphs: Honestly, that I’m somehow maintaining a positive, hopeful outlook after all I’ve gone through. That I believe I am about to move forward with my goals, regardless of what my current circumstances look like from that horrid face called “reality.” Also, that I’m good with who I am as I am this moment. That’s huge.

Current Bane(s) of my Existence: Bouts of self-doubt. The garage with all the crap that must be gone through, gotten rid of, and most of all sold. The current situation of finances, of lacking relationships, of faltering belief in myself to attain; to live again.

Current Celebrity Crush: I guess it’d be a girl crush on Nigella Lawson. She is a goddess, domestic and otherwise. She’s stunning, confident, and completely at home in her curvaceous body. She loves food, loves to cook, loves to bring people together with it… and has the resources and high-brow connections to do so and make a living at it. May I please be her?

Also, Stephen Fry. I want to marry him. Yes, I know he’s gay. And English.

But honestly, he seems kind and witty, brilliant and compassionate. He both recognizes and embraces his differences, yet conveys an everyman's commonality with humanity. he's humble yet clever. In so many ways, he is endearing to me.

Current Indulgence: British television shows.

Current Blessing(s): Parents that have put up with (and financially supported) me all this time as I have been slowly, slowly emerging from the fog of trauma. My online girlfriends who support and encourage me just exactly when and how I need it. Going to therapy, silly as that sounds.

Current Outfit: PJs, actually. It’s late. But I wore one of my jail house striped tops today with jeans tucked into my awesome black Merrell rain boots, even though it was sunny. A girl can dream.

Current Excitement: I WISH I could say hockey, but my team has been sucking badly of late. That a dear friend got engaged this weekend. That I’m believing and working toward moving to Scotland. That I’m continuing to purge the detritus of life. That I’m allowed to wear heels again.

Current Link: I guess I’d have to say the blog that I first saw this list on, though I’ve been following the blog they got it from for a while, yet somehow missed this post on that one!

You can't take it with you.

“My idea of the ultimate luxury is to be able to move all my worldly goods in one taxi.”

This, one of my favorite quotes, is from a British TV series (Murphy’s Law). Though I’d thought like this for years, I’d never put it so well. Actually, until this show I hadn’t really known there were other people, even fictional ones, out there that thought like me in this way.

Having said this, it’s likely apparent that I’ve not been a big saver of things, and am, in fact, excessively sparing compared to most Americans. Because of my desire to live abroad and travel the world, I’ve attempted to keep the ever-building amalgam of collected paraphernalia to a minimum. (Of course, being a compulsive organizer contributes to the constant downgrading as well.)

Yet the mass makes headway. Like when I took up triathlons. The equipment and wears add quite a bit. Or my growing collection of luggage and travel gear. Meant to help me keep things to a minimum, or at least to keep them quite small, these little items add up and take up space. Or my high quality kitchen items that have accumulated during my more domestic moments.

Most of all, it’s my books. It is the one collection with which I just can’t seem to part. I’m ever torn between wanting to be free of the encumbrance of mass quantities of stuff, to adoring the library I’ve taken a lifetime to build up. How can I reconcile this? I get advice spanning the spectrum. Yet my core is still torn asunder.

What’s worse with the books is that, because I was in a non-productive space both mentally and physically for the last few years, I indulged in collecting easily over 300 books I’m longing to read. What do I do with them as I prepare to move abroad? How do I keep up with them? When living in Italy, I used to send the books I’d read home to my parents. Do I keep that practice up? Am I then spending the same as if I bought them again? It’s my constant conundrum.

As to the “memory items” that fill up closets, garages, and storage sheds all over this vast country, I’ve been good about ridding myself of such things. If it still holds personal value and I can, I’ll scan or take a snap of it then free myself of it. But mostly it just goes. This is perhaps easier because I don’t have a family of my own. If one day I do, my kids will likely be grateful not to have to sort through my life in objects and paperwork.

Now when it comes to things from my ancestral past, I truly treasure the connections to those that have gone before. I would like to hold onto a few things from them. My grandad’s old stand-up radio that he brought to California from Nebraska as a surprise, the rocking chair my great-grandfather built, the painting my great-grandmother created… those things I will cherish whether they take up space or not. And the photos, of course. But the rest I can leave behind.

All this said, I do still love to have things. I’m not all that abstemious. Nice things feel good. I just want to keep them in proportion. Especially since so much of it is going to be in storage very soon. And, too, I don’t want to have things just to have them – I’d like them to be useful as well as nice. Form and function together is ideal. And always, always, always I must remind myself that in my case, less really is more.

If I try to stick with this, then perhaps I can live something close to that quote. That is, so long as there is a bike rack on the back of that taxi…