Into Out There


Susan Sontag once was quoted saying, “What I really wanted was every kind of life…..”

 With those words is my most prized trait and the pain in my side. I want so much. With occasional effort I attempt to rein it in but in the end it is the engine that moves me towards new tomorrows and impractical hobbies, so I go with it. It really is bothersome to want so many things at the same time. This weekend was no exception to my never-ending love for everything, these days though I do try to harness it into all things natural and the inherent processes of the beauty and movement of it.



 It is so familiar to see how when one makes a decision, billions of smaller compromises follow suit, agreements not made, but consequences of said decisions. Build a house, care for a cat, make a home that strangely begins to becomes part of your identity, try to create a business that attempts to synthesizes hopeful dreams. It goes on and on, one thing building upon the other. One decision is a hidden glacier of other decisions beneath it. Decision making, if one is consistent (and all the best decisions usually are) can often be the glue that binds you to space and a specific path.  Decisions are really what make a person and define them into a form.




Conscious decisions have bound me, and since consistency is an aim, I try, but some days I just really am all wanderlust. Why can’t we just run off for a month and hike the John Muir Trail? What if we moved to Portugal for six months? Let’s just move to Alaska so Kevin can go fishing? Trans Siberian Railroad?
Wandering is a decision that is the anti-decision, the erratic resolutions of youth.

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We went to Yosemite and around this weekend. There we met wandering travelers, Disneyland like nature scenes, we met a woman with blue hair and cancer braid that symbolized recovery, saw ruins of abandon mining towns, proud girls traveling alone across the country, middle-aged and elderly joy seekers, soaked in sulfuric water with mud with remnants of hair, and we walked.


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Walking, the march up the mountain, gave this weekend a sense of  comprehension and spoke to me of how important it will be for me to go into out there. There, meaning this space that is quiet and a little bit dangerous but really just beautiful and tiring in the best way possible.
And then there are plants. It is amazing to see plants in the spaces they were meant to be. I see how disconnected the words are when I see that a plant is native to a certain location and then I plant it and it becomes mine in my own space, without origins. I like discovering origins. Oh, the Wild flowers! – that are really wild and surviving in the places they fit perfectly into. Consistent, dependent, and form fitting to place.



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I made a decision this weekend that I would like to walk more. It takes away the edge off of the practically sedentary lifestyle of an urban environment. That sort of expansiveness really connects you to the whole circle and picture of why and where and how decisions are made.
In the end, what I really want is an every kind of life, surrounded by lots of plants and views.

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