I arrived at the airport in San Francisco on a bus running late, and ran to the check in, just for them to tell me that it was too late to check a bag and I would have to reschedule a flight. And thanks to the kindness of some really nice people at the ticketing counter, they made sure I was on my flight down south.
We packed the car for desert bouldering and set off. Two hours later, we were driving through what looked like it could be a Dr.Suess painting of the moon. We ended up joining camp with a really wonderful couple living in their 1980 Westfalia van who I hope we will be friends with for a long time and we climbed until our skin was pink and raw from crystals.
The desert is one of my favorite landscapes. Dust bowl afternoons, coyote nights and cactus days.
I feel just as free there as I do in the high plains and I settle into the dusty living and warm mornings. I love waking up cold and laying in the sun to soak the warmth into my bones.
We played ukulele through the night and swigged cinnamon whiskey. I live the richest life, my friends. The richest life.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
On this day last year, I was sad and sitting Yosemite National Park under my favorite tree, when mountain bluebirds swarmed down in front of me. This birds are like souls to mine, and it was the best gift I could have received when I was feeling so down.
Today was full of those. I miss my Uncle Todd so terribly- mostly his laugh, stories and soul- but oh, how I felt his presence everywhere today. The day was full of perfect, cinematic moments and I can't help to think that there was some serious positive energy around us all day long.
I'm leaving for the West coast tomorrow and I'm terribly excited to leave. I'm feeling restless. This isn't a new feeling, but it's not because I want to travel again. I'm feeling a huge imbalance that I know only seeing new places can straighten out.
For the first several months of my life, I was in a harness that was aimed at correcting the hip dysplasia I was born with. Friends and I joke that this is why I feel such a need to move around; to incessantly travel and go. I can't argue with it. In my mind, that's a part of the reason why a transient lifestyle has fit so well into my being- the deeply rooted feeling of being contained is so exhausting. The other part of it comes from the blood in my veins. I was born into a family of travelers and explorers and everyone has done something magnificent. Maybe it's all genetics. It's funny, too, that when I'm feeling burnt out on being too much or too little, driving helps. Running helps also. It's the motion that really makes me feel better, because as long as I'm moving, I feel I won't be boring and won't be monotonous- my soul won't collect dust.
Moving around and traveling has been a large part of my life the past two years that I haven't been in school and for that long time, it seemed to work. I guess you can always make it work- but there is a difference between making it work and being happy in it. And near the end of it all- the end of this summer- where there was nothing consistent and there hadn't been anything routine for most all of the year, is where all the moving around started to exhaust more than exhilarate. It felt like so much work to constantly try to form friendships, let alone relationships, that felt meaningful and lasting when I knew that I'd be leaving again soon. It's a "see you in...well, I'm not sure when" kind of deal. I'm great at making small talk, but it isn't filling or substantial.
So when it comes time to settle down here (and I swear, I'm ready to settle down), and for two weeks I have no job and am not making money, I have no schedule and no rules for myself, it doesn't feel like a vacation. I feel tired and lazy and unbalanced. And I know I shouldn't complain about time away from work, because I am lucky that I have that option, but again, I feel a serious lack of stability. I come back from trips where I see my greatest friends, and come back to a place that I'm just starting to get to know and feel comfortable in. I hate to admit that I'm lonely. In some sense, it makes me feel weak that it seems like I can't make it on my own. I can travel solo. It's when I stay in one place and have to let myself be alright with being alone. And it's days like today and yesterday that it has just consumed me and I feel so dependent on people that aren't going to solve any of that for me. It's a constant lesson of being alone and being happy in it. So I'm making my best effort.
So I drive towards the mountains and try not to force myself to be creative if I don't want to be. I buy myself a beer and a chocolate bar and sit on top of a mountain with my dog and shoot clays with a slingshot and know that this isn't the end of the world and there are positive things coming.
Investment of time.
Development of patience.
I guess everything I'm feeling is homesickness for a place that I haven't quite developed yet.
I'm in amazement of how much I needed to be in the mountains and I didn't even know it.
The day was spent talking about our amazing families and the climbing community and if what we do is worth the death that happens in the mountains to people we love and care for. And we discussed the amazement of finding a place that's untouched and being able to capture it in an image to bring back to people. I love being a storyteller, sometimes.
This time of year always makes me think of the people I've lost in both the mountains and the backcountry. There is something about the transitioning of summer to fall, when it gets colder and slower and raw, that makes me miss those people dearly.
I feel their souls a little closer, though, when I am surrounded by peaks and can see the milky way bend across the sky and fog rolls in like a sea through valleys in the early mornings. Those kind of pure moments of honesty are ones no one can steal from you...those are the kinds of things I will think about when I'm worn. Those kinds of moments are the things that people haul a 40 lb backpack miles into the wilderness to witness and I guess that's because it's stripped of excess. Or at least, that's what I feel when I look at it.
I feel better after sitting in a hammock, uptop a ridge with a cup of tea and eating a chocolate bar for breakfast (you can do that when you're an adult). It rekindled some inspiration and made me feel like shooting photographs is what I love and want to do.
Things are good.
(I was able to go photo-shooting with a great photographer- take a minute and see some of his images: www.ryandaythompson.com)
