Friday, January 14, 2011
Open Mic Night in Walla Walla
Walla Walla, WA
Last night between 8:00 PM and 10:00 PM.... I smiled a lot, my mind felt calm and expanded, my body was relaxed, my soul was incredibly content, and great waves of GRATITUDE were flowing through my heart....
By 8:00, I had finished eating a delicious and healthy dinner with a friend.*
Just after 8:00, I walked into the Walla Walla Village Winery, a small room with brightly painted walls and decorated with framed old Grateful Dead posters. **
Quickly, I met Irish, the winery owner, who immediately started pouring tastes of red wine for me.***
For the next hour and a half, I sat with about 10 others and watched local talent play guitars and sing. ****
Mike was the final singer, songwriter I watched and listened to. He sat on a stool and seemingly encompassed his guitar. His eyes were dark, his short beard was grey and black, his head was covered with a dark, woolen hat. He sang words that he had written with a soulful voice, and those words, his voice spoke well to me.*****
* I am grateful that I have money and access to good food. I am grateful that I have good friends.
** I am grateful for small places and small communities.
*** I am grateful for red wine.
**** I am grateful for music.
***** I am grateful for stories that exist within the lives of people I meet. Just from listening to and watching Mike, I knew that his life has been full of wonderful stories. While I sat there listening to his music, and I also tried happily to create some of his stories in my mind.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Other people's words
"Psychiatrists, politicians, tyrants are forever assuring us that the wandering life is an aberrant form of behavior; a neurosis; a form of unfulfilled sexual longing; a sickness which, in the interests of civilization, must be suppressed.... Yet, in the East, they still preserve the once universal concept; that wandering re-establishes the original harmony which once existed between man and the universe."
-Bruce Chatwin
"And so it now is that the Navajo people never abide in one dwelling.... Instead they migrate constantly from place to place, from place to place."
-from Dine Bahane': The Navajo Creation Story
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Go slow to go fast and the first TIP
It is my first blog entry that I am actually writing in the present, in the right here and now. Perhaps I have finally "caught up" with my blog. We (the collective "we") spend so much of our lives trying to seemingly catch up with things. We run and run and run to catch up, and then when we feel further behind we run faster.
Over the years, I have found that most things in life are relatively simple. Fundamentally, if something is not working, you should try something else, and typically you should try something that is simpler. If running to catch up is not catching you up, then you should do something else. Maybe we should try stopping, or at least slowing down?
**********************************************************************
I'd like to introduce a new aspect of Nomadism.... the TIP - The "Thought in Progress." Moving forward, as part of each of my blog entries (or at least many of them), I will throw out to the world an incomplete thought that is bouncing around in my mind. Some of these thoughts will be small, others will be large, or potentially large. I have two main goals in documenting these TIPs:
- I will further process and advance these thoughts in my mind by writing them down.
- I will generate discussion and feedback about these thoughts from others.
And now, the very first Thought in Progress (TIP):
"Help a Friend"
Starting today, I am committing to intentionally doing something nice and out of the way for someone I know. There are people in the world doing incredible things for thousands of others; there are people in the world being of service in a large scale. However, for most of us, doing that is either overwhelmingly challenging or just simply not practical. Service and goodness does not need to be grand. Service and goodness can (and perhaps should) be small and local and towards people we know and love. If we do one (ok, maybe two) good and small and surprising things for someone we know each day.... well, just think about where we would all be. Think about a day when someone you know did one thing nice and unexpected for you; think about how it changed your day.... and so, tomorrow, change someone's day, someone you know.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Elements of Intention
Some rambling words written by the fire late at night after a few glasses of wine....
Intention.
Words, actions, thoughts, perspective.... say them, do them, think them, pursue them...with intention, with positive and sincere and honest intention.
Positive Intention.... Good-natured and with meaning; not just for you, but for someone or someones else; intentionally of support or of service for others; an intention to improve something or someone.
Sincere Intention.... Something that is real; something that speaks to who you are and what your life is; an intention that feels like the right thing to you, not because it might be or should be or ought to be the right thing for someone else.
Honest Intention.... Don't say it if you're not going to do it; make sure it is an intention that you both believe in and believe in getting done.
Friday, December 17, 2010
Journal Entries from Patagonia #3
Once again, I receive simple and important reminders about life, living life, and what is important about life….
How your day is going, how you are feeling, and how life is seemingly treating you…. all of this can change in an instant. It can change as a result of the simplest and/or smallest of things. A phone call from a friend, a warm and unexpected chocolate chip cookie, someone you don’t know being kind to you for no outward reason, anything can change your day, your mood, and your mindset. Things can also change simply by switching your own mental outlook, your own perspective. Even a slight shift in your perspective can create a substantial change in your present experiences.
Most people I know, most travelers, in fact most people from my Western culture would say something like, “Sorry to hear that,” or “That sounds awful,” in response to listening to a factual recalling of my day today….
I left my hostel just after 8:00 AM this morning, hoping to hitch a ride from El Chalten to, or at least towards, Los Antiquos, Argentina, a border town to Chile approximately 700 km north from El Chalten. As a first attempt, I waited on the one road on the outskirts of town. I waited for about 3.5 hours with no success; there were no cars. There was consistently blowing wind of 40+ miles per hour (with gusts that whirled up small tornados), but there were no cars. Around noon I decided to change tactics. I would travel by bus about one hour away from El Chalten and wait on a spot on the main north-south highway; hopefully there would be more cars (or at least one) heading my way from that spot. So, at 1:00 PM, I headed out of town on a bus. I then sat for another 3 hours at my new spot on highway Ruta 40, again with no success. Finally, I hitched a ride back to El Chalten. Arriving back in town, I returned to the hostel I had left early that morning. OK, so hearing that outline of my day, how would you respond?
Indeed, there were moments during today when I questioned how things were transpiring. However, now, at the very end of the day, I feel nothing but gratefulness for my day, my life, my experiences (including those from today), and my vast and varied opportunities, both from the past and for the future. People who would want to apologize for my experiences today would undoubtedly view my day as a waste or believe that I gained nothing from my day. I disagree, vehemently. Why does something need to happen or get done to make a day worthwhile?Why can’t life just be enjoyed for being life, a day be enjoyed just by being a part of that day?
A relevant tangent… in an introduction to Thoreau’s Walden, the author writes that many friends and contemporary acquaintances of Thoreau considered him “underemployed” and deplored what they believcd was a “life of irresolution.” Thoreau, a graduate with excellent marks from Harvard and clearly a bright, creative mind, chose to live simply and work relatively seldomly. For a number of years, Thoreau worked in an official capacity for approximately 6 weeks of the year. For the other 46 weeks of the year, Thoreau did… well, other things. Some days he wrote; some days he built or fixed something; some days he went for a walk; some days he probably did not do much of anything. Was Thoreau wasting his time? Was Thoreau gaining nothing from his life? I wonder how most people would answer those questions. I, very confidently, believe that that Thoreau was living a full, meaningful, and fulfilled existence. My hope is that many others would agree with me.
And so, why should my day today be considered wasted? Let’s look more closely at my day…. Today I read an entire book and began another one. Today I met and spoke with people from at least six different countries. Today I was never pressured by any person, any assignment, any responsibility, or any schedule. Today I spent most of my day outside. Today I ate an incredibly delicious dinner. Today I had all of my needs met completely. Today I thought deeply about life, friends, and the future. Today I practiced speaking Spanish. Today I got to live another day in Patagonia. Huh, today was a pretty great day! No, I did not travel to a different place. No, I did not check off anything from any travel guide list or itinerary. No, my day did not include lots of moving or doing of things quickly. Why are so many people in a such a rush anyway?
12/3, Cerro Castillo
Happily confined to my tent, I have spent the afternoon reading, writing, and napping. I walked from 9:00 this morning until about 1:30 this afternoon. Gaining about 2,500 feet, the path was steep and tiring at times. I am now camped in the cradle of the Cordillera Castillo; I am surrounded by classically jagged, raw, and glacier-filled Patagonian peaks. While hiking, I very much enjoyed the cool, gray weather, but since arriving at camp, that cool grayness quickly became cold, windy drizzle. I think the day’s weather has been absolutely perfect. I had perfect uphill hiking weather this morning, and then I was blessed with perfect lazy, relaxing, hanging out in your tent weather all afternoon. I do hope for clearing skies tomorrow as I would love to explore the higher reaches of these peaks, but for now I am content listening to the gusting winds and falling rain from the comfortable confines of my tent (as I write, I am sitting on my thermarest chair, a sleeping bag is draped around me, a thermos of hot water for Mate is to one side of me, and an extra large chocolate bar with almonds and caramel is to the other side of me; I am as comfortable as I could be anywhere).
I have been thinking about the similarities I may have with Thoreau. Some of his thoughts directly connect and resonate with some of the guiding tents of my life. Aligning myself with Thoreau provides me both with a soothing sense of comfort and an unnerving sense of doubt or remorse. Optimistically, it is reassuring to think of myself alike to someone who is revered by many and often thought of as one of America’s greatest literary inspirations. However, feelings of doubt and despair also creep in to my mind with such comparisons as I begin to ask myself, if indeed I am like Thoreau, what am I doing right now to leave any sort of long-lasting legacy as he did?
And then, I begin to think of things from a somewhat Buddhist perspective and I begin to ask myself, why is it important to leave a long-lasting legacy? On our long journey through many lifetimes, how much does this one lifetime and the specific pursuits of this lifetime matter?
And then I sort of feel a bit depressed and I want think about or write about something else.
12/4, Cerro Castillo
A glorious day in the alpine. In two days, I will leave Patagonia and return to the US. I am happy that today happened before I left this place. Last night, extremely high winds blew through the evening. At times, I was sure that my GoLite megamid would fail. I also convinced myself (during different sleepless segments of the evening) that today’s weather would probably be serevely less than ideal for a mountaineering adventure. And yet, I awoke to just that – ideal weather. Unzipping my tent and crawling out to begin my day, I was greeted with bright blue skies with no clouds in sight, and crisp, cool air, but hardly any wind. A roll with cheese and some hot cocoa powered me up, and then I set off… up. The next handful of hours proved to be about as good as mountain fun can be.
I found my own way.
I boulder hopped.
I walked along pristine, glacier-fed streams.
I ascended steep inclines of rock.
I traversed snow fields.
I kicked steps up snow gulleys.
I climbed on technical rock.
I was immersed in beauty, surrounded by towering jagged peaks.
And, finally, I treated myself to a glacading ride that dropped me (quickly) over 2000 feet in elevation.
I had carried my ice axe for over two weeks. I have carried it through towns and along multiple boat rides. I had carried it on backpacking trips and buses. But so far, I had not actually used it. Clearly, I had carried this axe around Patagonia over these past two weeks for this day only, for my ride down Cerro Castillo. Carrying it the rest of the time was well worth the fun it provided for me today!
A few pics.... Clouds. New friends in El Chalten. Castillo (The Castle Mountain) at sunset. High saddle point on Castillo. My last sunset. Part of my descent (and my first "ski" run of the year).
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Journal Entries from Patagonia #2
In some ways, I have been journeying these past 10 days to come to this mountain, Mount FitzRoy. Now, I sit before it and its sub-peaks. I sit in the waning light and the coolness of the evening, but FitzRoy's west side still basks in the strong, summer sunlight. On that other other side of the mountain is the great southern icefields, and Chile. If I return to this area, that other other side of the mountain is where I will travel to.....
It was my second day backpacking in the FitzRoy area. Both days have consisted of a 3-5 hour backpack, and then an impromtu, super fun personal day adventure. (Today also included an early afternoon nap in my megamid - door open, feet warmed by the sun.... ahhh.)
My adventure yesterday definitely earns "trip highlights" status. After hiking into my first camp, I wandered up canyon. Then, the adventure began. I improvised a harness with a piece of climbing webbing and couple of carabiners.... I clipped myself on to a previously setup Tyrolean traverse, and pulled myself across the mighty FitzRiy Rio.... and then I hiked to Glacier Grande. I returned to near my camp as the sun was setting to cook dinner and drink a beer on the shores of Laguna Torre.
My adventure today was an off-trail, downclimb of a steep skree/snow/waterfall slope to hang out next to a pristine glacial lake.
11/28, Piedra del Fraile
At some point, Patagonia weather will win. Today, the weather beat me down some. I'd had (relatively) incredibly fortunate weather over the past two days, but today... the wind and the rain came, and they came hard. My extra side adventure today came not after my backpacking hike, but during it. It was a fight against the elements (and also an accidental off-trail slog up and down an old glacier morain). At times while walking today I was actually knocked over by the wind.
But now I sit in the comfortable confines of the refuge at Piedra del Fraile. I warm my feet (and soul) by sitting next to the wood stove and drinking Mate.
A few pics.... Drinking from cold, glacial water. Mount FitzRoy. Tyrolean Traverse. View from my nap site. Lake with Cerro Torre in the background.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Jounral Entries from Patagonia #1
I write from the doorway of my tent, overlooking Laguna Tranquilo in Patagonia, Chile. I glance up from my journal, and I see the almost full moon dance out from the now graying clouds of the sunset. The day's light now fades, but la luna promises to keep my campsite bright. It is my first night camping in Patagonia, my first night sleeping in this oh-so natural of environments, my first night breathing in the cold night air originating from the glaciers and the lakes and the trees and the waterfalls of this forever and uniquely wild place. I will fall asleep tonight to the sounds of wildness around me. I will fall asleep tonight when the light no longer lets me write. I will wake up tomorrow when the sun's first rays hit my tent. And so it will be for my next weeks, living with the coming and going of the summer sun of the southern sky.
11/24, Villa O'Higgins
I sit my the fire to write and warm my feet. A grey wind howls outside. It's 8:45 in the morning. In the lives of most people I know, by 8:45 AM many things have already happened. By 8:45, typically, people have:
- been awoken by an alarm,
- started thinking about their day and the things that needed to get done,
- completed various tasks around their house,
- decided on what clothes to wear and what to pack into a briefcase or bag for the day,
- thought even more about their day,
- checked their email (and probably their Facebook),
- watched television,
- commuted somewhere,
- checked email for a second time and answered some of those emails,
- begun work their work day with meetings or daily tasks,
- and probably a handful or other things.
Yesterday.... I woke up in a family-run hostel in Tortel, a town built on stilts in the middle of fjord-land Patagonia. I woke up in an incredibly comfortable bed snuggled underneath multiple layers of thick wools blankets. My bed took much almost the entire room where I was staying. Outside it was dumping with rain and a steady wind blew - it had been blowing throughout the evening. I walked along boardwalks in the rain to where the road meets the sea. There I met a Suisse couple who were also heading to Villa O'Higgins; I hitched a ride. The drive to Villa O'Higgins was one of the most beautiful drives I have ever taken. I saw hundreds of waterfalls. I saw rivers that were immensely wide and other that were narrow torrents of white water. I saw snow-capped peaks that shone brightly against an emerging blue sky. I saw huge glacial lakes and wide sprawling valleys. The road, Chile's southern "highway" was gravel and dirt, letting us happily move slowly along it. At some point, we took a ferry. At some point, I arrived in Villa O'Higgins, a town I had never been to. Here, I had multiple conversations in Spanish. I shared Mate with a new friend. I met the school's headmaster and I met the school's English teacher. I had coffee and fresh, homemade bread at a local couple's home. I taught four hours of English to local, adult learners. I felt part of a community. I feel asleep in a small house snuggled underneath multiple layers of thick wool blankets.
Downtown Tortel ............................. My Villa O'Higgins Family ............. Main Street Tortel