future plans might not be plans.

The feeling of restless has hit full force, and I've been shedding possessions right and left to simplify, to make my life a little less complicated. My bed is on the floor next to my record player, the way I would prefer it to be, so I can start it in the early mornings when I'm awake and hurrying around my wooden floorboards to make it to work on time. I'm winding things up at work, feeling like every hour I sit in the office is a little more time spent dying on the inside. Despite working with wonderful people, I can't wait to never work in an office building again. I feel like I get boring there.

I can't wait to stand in an open space and feel small again. To put things in that perspective of a paradigm shift and realize that the world doesn't revolve around possessions or money or where you live, but more so of who you are with, how much love there is to give, and places to explore.

I can't stop thinking about the water and the feeling of coasting on it. Despite a short amount of surfing time, like I said in my last post, it was the happiest I've felt in a long, long time. I love the mountains and am learning to love the snow a lot more, but I think that maybe more immediately than I thought, I need to be by the water. I'm not quite sure how I will make it work with rent and food and living expenses, but it doesn't need to be completely figured out. Plans are dreary sometimes, and maybe a change of pace in a drastic way will be healthy; to learn to love the sea as much as I love the high elevations.

For my final 3 weeks in this town I would like to spend quality time with the people I love, eat food that makes me feel good, dance to bluegrass music, go on adventures, get lost, go outside, simplify, and be happy. Those all sound reasonable to me.

Chocolate and raspberry pancakes were made the other day, with a side of kiwi and a rather large cup of coffee.

I could do this always.

westward feelings

I needed this trip more than I can explain to you. I get caught up in a cyclical effect in a small town and needed to break free of that. So my best friend and I packed our bags and flew West for some sunshine. 

There are sometimes that the beauty of things hits me so hard that tears well. We drove fast and ate delicious food and laughed and laughed and laughed. 

Silhouettes of people watching waves and learning how to study them. 

Walking along crowded beaches to lay hands on a starfish. 

Laughing until I cry. 

Standing up on a surfboard for the first time in a whole lifetime and not being able to stop grinning because the moment is happy, happier than many in a long, long time. 

Getting brainfreezes from 50 degree waves. 

Learning more about how water works. 

Being so sore from surfing and climbing and moving that muscles ache. Drinking good whiskey, drinking more good beer. 

Telling stories that make you laugh and wonder and make you understand why people believe what they do. Watching sunsets that warm you to your core and wind blowing in your hair so that it tangles a little more than you would like. 

Inspiration so pure that it is blatant and honest and tangible.

Through examples, I saw how to love people more, be a better person, try new things, laugh at myself. These things are all important and necessary in the world. I'm so lucky to have the people in my life. 

there is something pure about good company...like finding that you are more intrigued by what they have to say then by what you have to tell them. that is beautiful 

wild things

I've been wild lately. Reading novels that challenge my ideas about the world, new plans for the future. 

I've been spending lots of time in open spaces-so open that it forces you to put things back into perspective. That you are small, the world is big, but it's worth exploring every inch. That there is so much more out in the world than what is immediately surrounding you. It's good for the mind like that- open spaces- or at least for me. Because when I stand in a field and the wind blows through my bones, I know that I can be anywhere in the world and I'll still see the same sun, the same moon, just different ground beneath my feet. 

We rented a forest service cabin at 10,100 ft. I love it. My lungs and body were tired, but happy. My pup was wonderful and played hard. She's passed out at my side right now and has been all afternoon. We drank too much wine and laughed late into the night and lit a fire in the wood stove. We saw shooting stars and fat winter birds and sank deep into alpine snow and ate huge meals full of good food that was all different colors. 

And it's times like these where I realize my bones weren't so restless, they just needed to see the sky without a city beneath it and breathe in some deep, cold air.

alive!

I'm finally feeling alive again.

This past Monday night, my chest started feeling tight and my lungs hurt when I was breathing in. By Tuesday night, because it had gotten worse and I had developed a deep cough, I drove myself to the ER. I spent the next 7 hours getting chest x rays, blood tests and cat scans to check out some scary potential blood clots that had showed up on the x-ray. Luckily, I left with only a diagnosis of a strong case of pneumonia and some antibiotics. Fast forward 3 solid days spent in discomfort and fever and I'm finally feeling like moving around and getting outside a little. The weather has been so nice here, and it's been painstaking to sleep through it, but I've had no energy or ability to go outside or hardly move. But springtime is coming and despite my desire to go ski on my new (to me) skis, I've really appreciated the sunlight.

I'm getting ready to travel far and long distances. I'll be traveling a lot this summer. More specifically, I'll be in over 10 cities in 2 months. I'm bringing my pup along for most of the ride, because of course, she is my traveling companion. It's an odd thing, the things we give up to be able to go travel. Like buying cheap, terrible coffee and eating rice and potatoes to save money to go somewhere new and different. It'll be an adventure, most definitely, and I'm thrilled to see where it takes me.

I've begun the process of giving up my possessions, and preparing to move. It's freeing and nervewracking and terrifying and lovely, all at once.