Open your eyes, listen, and feel

It's amazing what you can hear when you stop and listen. A hummingbird's wings beating against thin air, actively defying gravity. The weighted thud of raindrops hitting a broad thimbleberry leaf, heavy when falling alone but melodic and orchestrated when accompanied by millions.

It's amazing what you can see when you open your eyes and explore the details around you. A colony of mushrooms actively decaying an alder, extracting life from death. A blackberry bush displaying a delicate blossom to attract the fat bumblebees so that it may become a juicy summer berry.

It is amazing the joy and love that you can feel when you allow it into your life. Lazy Sunday morning puppy snuggles whilst sipping coffee and being lazy. The company of a friend, laughing to the point of tears. Joyriding in her crazy van, aka the Adventure Shark, with hip hop beats providing the soundtrack to an activity you haven't done in years. Enjoying a meal and catching up on life.

All in a single day while never getting out of your yoga pants. Bliss.

Simplicity and Bliss on a Saturday

Each morning when I open my eyes I say to myself: I, not events, have the power to make me happy or unhappy today. I can choose which it shall be. Yesterday is dead, tomorrow hasn't arrived yet. I have just one day, today, and I'm going to be happy in it.

                                                                 - Groucho Marx

I love that moment right before you open your eyes, when you're first returning to consciousness from a nights sleep. I wiggle my toes to feel the cool sheets across my skin, bringing awareness back into my body as I descend down from a dream state back into my bed. Grounding myself and bringing the mind and body back into one. Nestled into snug little pile, I feel a soft but heavy weight above my head on the pillows. It's moving. And there is another weight pressed up against my back. This one is a little less silky and a lot more still. My brain awakens and without opening my eyes, I am instantly familiar with my position in the center of a silken furry golden snuggle-puddle with Farley and Lola. I feel their gaze laying across my face waiting for the slightest sign of life. A deep inhale, a twitch of the eyelid, or a shift of position alerts them that I am about to awake and their party can begin.

That is precisely how I wake every single morning rain or shine, like clockwork with two devoted golden retrievers ecstatic that another morning has arrived, like a gift. Today wasn't unlike any other morning, except that today I woke up feeling exactly as they did. That this morning came to me as a gift and an opportunity to create my own bliss, revel in the little things, enjoy each passing moment.

So with a smile on my face and light radiating from my heart, I chose to bliss out. I buried my nose in the golden retriever fur, sent a love ripple far off into the aspens and ponderosa pines to be intercepted by mi amor so far away, and brewed a cup of coffee in the french press. Perfect. Even better, it's Saturday so with the coffee hot in my hand we headed into the forest for a little walking meditation. For me, being in the forest walking in silence, listening to the world awaken, and mindlessly following the wooded path to get lost in my thoughts, wander, explore, and breathe is pure bliss.

Here are some photos of the gifts which filled my bucket today, because I chose to accept what was sent down my path. I hope you choose to do the same. xoxo

Sword Fern

Farlesworth the Wonderdog - trail guide

Downy Woodpecker male and female

Bracken Fern

Post yoga sushi sesh with two amazing ladies

                                                       1/3 of a complete snuggle-puddle

Another 1/3 of the snuggle-puddle

The resurrection of the blog

Somehow over the past couple of years I seem to have misplaced a part, or pieces of myself. I hesitate to say lost as I don't think I've truly lost those pieces, I've just misplaced them. Tucked them away on a bookshelf and forgotten that they existed as I concentrated on doing what was right, what was expected, what I expected of myself. To get a job that I love, bring a little stability into my life, and try to be happy. Well I think I can honestly say that I've been successful in achieving all of those goals. Kind of. I have a job I love. I have a super stable existence. And I'm pretty happy, generally, most of the time, somewhat, sort of, kind of.....errrr....okay, I'll be honest. Something is missing. I'm lacking inspiration, passion, a spark. Wait. No. I definitely have spark. I'm lacking a flame that endures. Everything feels a little dull. Lackluster. Boring. God I hate that word.

So why am I so bored? You wouldn't know it from the outside looking in because I seemingly fill my life with adventures and non-stop action. You'd think buying plane tickets was a favorite pastime of mine! It is, but that's not the point. The point is that I rarely stop moving long enough to sit down and think about what is missing. Because when I do think about what's missing, it spins me down into the rabbit hole of self-doubt, insecurity and depression. And I know that the only way to fight off those horrible feelings is to find inspiration. Something to grab your hand and pull you through the mud when you're face down. Don't worry; I'm not face down in the mud right now. I'm sort of like knee deep but I know that if I don't dust off that bookshelf and look for the pieces of me that are hidden back there I'll be buying a ticket down the rabbit hole.

So here I am. Sitting. Thinking. Being still. Doing a little dusting. Seeking inspiration. Attempting to gather a bit of fodder for my spark. This stillness inevitably leads to a state of reflection. Looking back at where I've been to get a bearing on the direction I'm headed in. Funny enough, this desire to remember where I've been often leads me back to this blog. I first started blogging during a time when I was supremely happy, peaceful, and experienced moments of pure bliss on a daily basis. I want to reconnect with that person, that time period, and draw from the wisdom of experience. I want to be present in the moment, feel life in every breath, and be grateful for each second that passes me by. I yearn to be inspired yet again, to capture and enjoy all that is life. There are a few different reasons that I've decided to return to my blog and I'll likely touch on those in future blog posts but my true inspiration comes from my friend, Emily. You may remember her as The Butcher of Costa Rica (she's now the Sea Cucumber Queen of Saudi Arabia and you should follow her blog).

Emily's blog is inspiring to me. She blogs about the simplest of life's pleasures such as making banana pancakes, watering her plants, and Science on a Saturday as well as the grander of life's adventures and travels she's known to embark on. I admire her wise perspective that if you live life waiting for the next big adventure you'll miss out on all of the small magical moments that collectively make up an unforgettable existence. She's brilliant. She reminds me that sitting on a terrace, enjoying a coffee in the early morning whilst listening to birdsong and feeling a croissant melt on your tongue is pure magic. It is a moment that will last forever as long as you let it. Those experiences are gifts from the universe, or depending on your perspective maybe you'd consider it a gift from your local French bakery but regardless it doesn't matter. It was a gift and as long as you see your life as a journey where all you have to do is collect gifts, you're fucking stoked.

So here is my attempt to focus on what matters in life, enjoy the sweetest moments, let the sour one's pass me by, and be wise enough to accept and appreciate the gifts that are sent my way.

Weathering the Storm

As I prepare to turn the page and close out another chapter in this Book of Life, I’m finding myself once again consumed with anticipation as to what the next chapter will be. Often times, during these moments of transition I find myself consumed by stress, excitement, fear, and anxiety that come on like waves in a storm, endlessly churning in my mind, and relentlessly battering my shores. At times navigating through these uncharted waters can be defeating as the horizon is often lost in the clouds and the final destination remains unknown.

Living one’s life moment by moment, page by page, as I have chosen to do, can at times be an incredibly unsettling way to exist. Over the years, people have attempted to plant seeds of doubt deep within my hull. Securely attached to the shore, looking out upon the churning sea below, they ask “What are you going to do now? When are you going to get a real job? What is your plan? When are you going to settle down?”

Well, honestly, I don’t know. I don’t have those answers. But I do know that you will never get a taste of that big ol’ ocean unless you cut your lines, raise your sails, and bravely set forth. Out there, unforgiving storms are inevitable and will undoubtedly leave you battered and bruised. But as anyone who has ever been broken by life knows, the sun never shines more vibrantly than the day after surviving a brilliant storm.

So yes, the next chapter is still unwritten, and yes, I am somewhat afraid to turn the page. But considering I am the author of this individual Book of Life I will hold true to the notion that it is the journey between the pages and the means by which chapters are navigated that makes each of our stories intriguing and unique. Life is about remembering to appreciate the scent of every rainstorm, the beauty in every drop, and the warmth behind the clouds. At the end of my book, I hope I can honestly say that the course by which I traveled had little significance when compared to the wonders I experienced along the way.

Healing Amidst the Trees

I have always been drawn to extremes. Sought out grandiose and exotic destinations to satisfy my wanderlust soul. Every commitment I make is contingent upon the next big adventure. I often feel restless and will do anything to challenge routine, defy the mundane and beat back the ordinary. This resistance to settle has taken me to places that I never could have imagined. But like the old saying goes, “what goes up, must come down.” Returning home to my "normal life" after spending a summer getting paid to live a life less ordinary always left me feeling a little hollow, a bit depressed, and totally and utterly bored.

I tried to be content, and at times I was. But always in the back of my mind I could hear my personal mantra on repeat. Quietly but constantly whispering "we only have one go at this thing called life, so why are you not making every second count?!" And somehow, early this year, staring down the barrel of 30 and feeling that all too familiar restlessness churning in my soul yet again, I looked around and found myself standing smack dab in the middle of the wettest and most northwesterly incorporated town in the lower 48, wearing my Xtratuf’s and ready for a little adventure.

But this time, I had somehow landed, in a sense, in my own backyard on the Olympic Peninsula; in a hardworking Pacific Northwest town that struggles to maintain a reputable identity, where headline grabbing wars exist between loggers and owls, and vampires and werewolves intermittently lay their claim to fame. People are tough out here. They are rugged and suspicious of outsiders or anybody who tries to tell them what to do with their land, especially “conservationists” or the hated “environmentalist.” Beginning in February of this year, I began working for North Olympic Land Trust to publicly open The Elk Creek Conservation Area, 255 acres of reclaimed logging land, in Forks, WA, for the specific purposes of Environmental Education and public recreation (but no ATV’s please...not on my land).

This piece of land is truly a gem, an unassuming observer, silently nestled into a lush verdant valley, often hidden beneath a shroud of mist and coastal fog. At first glance, the forest looks unimpressive to say the least. I dare say ugly. A sad, lonely uniform patch of small overcrowded trees, lacking diversity and a sense of wonder, where evidence of chainsaws and logging trucks reminds you of a chaos she once knew. But I encourage you to go, go into the forest, for there is a beautiful story lying in those branches that everyone should hear. As you journey deeper into the heart of the forest, her scars will become apparent and her pain palpable. Ghosts of giants from long ago, shamefully hidden between the seemingly endless rows of carelessly replanted hemlock will bravely emerge as the forest begins to reveal her tale.

As you walk along the newly cut trail, I challenge you to see the forest come to life. Be silent and listen to her softly spoken whispers, her birdsong, the flowing of life through the gurgling of the stream, the croaking of the frogs, the growing of the ferns, the dripping of the moss. Inhale deeply, letting the mortality of passing seasons fill your nose, mind and lungs. Allow the hauntingly familiar scents of chanterelles, decaying cedar, wet leaves and virgin soils implant on your soul, seeking comfort in the knowledge that without death and dying, there is no room for birth and renewal. Inhale the pungent odor of the skunk cabbage, leaching in from the swamps surrounding you telling you that spring is just around the corner. Encourage hesitant fingertips to indulge in the depth and moisture as they gently caress the thick living carpet of emerald moss. Allow yourself to indulge as the forest floor beckons you to lie down and rest. Allow her to wrap branches of Spruce around your shoulders and carry your hurried thoughts away with the wind. Let her take your worries, your troubles, and your fears as you breathe in life, strength, and patience. Close your eyes and feel the timelessness envelope you. Find peace in this adventure, your adventure, and be present in the now, here, with the forest, listening, watching, feeling, being.

This is my forest, my office, my refuge, the place I go to work, dream, live, and breathe. I came looking for the next big adventure and I found a sense of place. In the past 3 months, I have felt the restlessness dissipate, my days are less than ordinary and despite the chaos, I have found time to breathe. The forest, my forest is wise and I have found that if you listen she will teach you a lesson in peace. Despite her scars and the turmoil she has known, she will gracefully heal from the chaos. She will reclaim what is rightfully hers and live confidently in her place.

My vision grew in the forest xo

Praise Spirit Bear

So you know what happens when one finds one’s self totally and utterly bored with life? Well I’ll tell ya. One day you are at the library, pissed off at your job, skimming the multitudes of other lame job postings on Craigslist, when you come across a position for crew onboard a boat in Alaska. Your mind begins to wander as you imagine yourself as a boat person, bobbing along like a cork atop ocean swells, filling your lungs with briny air, eating seaweed, fish, and coconuts! Romanticizing about selling off all of your worldly possessions, sans a few good books, loading up the dogs and drifting off into the sunset with the wind at your back! Ah! To live a life at sea! And then you hear your trusty inner voice chiming in, screaming “HEY! You love adventure! You love boats! You apparently love trading your cozy little sunlight filled house for a bunk in the hull of a boat which has not seen the light of day since it was built in 1976! Why not throw away your chances of getting a tan this summer and experience all of the above in the mystical land of Alaska?! Come ON! Let’s shake things up a bit eh?!” And before you know it, your pinky finger is hitting send on an email with your resume attached. Okay Craigslist job listing! I’M IN!

Fast forward 14 days later, and off I go towards my bright new future, just as any responsible adult would, bravely battling the worst hangover known to man. With barely enough energy to stand up, let alone throw my belongings into a pack and carry it to the awaiting car, I cursed the names of a few so called “friends” who ever so graciously bid me adieu with words of encouragement and far too many IPA’s the night before.

Pfffh….Some friends.... more like assholes.

With brow furrowed, palms sweating uncontrollably, and my saliva glands working overtime packing my esophagus with spit in an attempt to keep anything from coming back up, I concentrated, taking deep controlled breathes as I silently prayed to anyone that might be listening. I didn’t matter who it was; God, Allah, sweet baby Jesus, or the almighty Spirit Bear, I just needed a miracle. I pleaded with each of them separately and then again together, as a super-spirit-power.

“Please, just get me through this. I’ll do anything…anything.”

And yep, I said it, it’s shameful I know, but I said it….

“I Promise oh Super–Spirit-Power, if you get me through this….I will never drink again.”

And somehow, despite knowing that this was definitely an empty promise, the almighty sprit conglomerate sent forth an answer. They told me that the only way I was to survive this horrid mess that those assholes, Hot Tom, J-Rad, Jake, and Jules, had gotten me into was to set a few small goals. Like a pack of angels, they spoke to me and said “Okay, you can do this B. Just don’t puke on your new boss’s shoes when she comes to pick you up.”

Check.

“Simply refrained from spackling the interior of her car with vomit.”

Barely, but check!

“Now just get yourself through the airport security gates without heaving up stomach bile for the 5th time this morning.”

Damn. Probably could have had that one if I hadn’t been forced to drink the contents of my open water bottle before going through the goddamn x-rays.

“It’s OK, setbacks happen. Now get yourself comfortably buckled into the middle seat of the middle row which is exactly equidistant from both the forward and aft restrooms.”

Perfect.

“Make yourself aware of the location of the barf bag and accept that you may actually have to use it….in front of people.”

Check.

“Now eat a peanut and drink some ginger ale. Try to get some rest. You look like hell and there are 8 people sitting on a boat in Sitka waiting to judge you.”

Okay.

Somewhere over the Inside Passage, the alcohol saturated fog that surrounded my brain began to lift and the ever so timid rays of Alaskan sunshine dancing in through the cabin windows started to feel less like sharp little ice picks stabbing the back of my skull. The plane landed without incident, and as I wrestling my oversized pack out of the overhead compartment, I sheepishly glanced around at my fellow passengers and felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment and pride knowing that super-power-hangover-strength had been bestowed upon me, allowing me to overcome horrible suffering and physical agony, narrowly saving them all from inadvertently partaking in the worst hangover known to man. As I disembarked the plane, I paused, beaming with bride, and cast the most genuine smile I could muster up, I gazed at the nice old man standing behind me and whispered “you’re welcome.”

Alaska!

For those of you who are dilegently checking, I have to apologize for the lack of blogging....it will happen I promise...but I am working 14 hour days 18 days at a time, so during my off time I am SLEEPING!!! I am having an amazing time and the crew is fabulous to work with! Oh, and sorry for the "Adventures of a restless Bunghole" title earlier....one of the many perks of having a brother who 1) loves to pick on me, 2) thinks he's funny, and 3) is a professional hacker. ;-) Thanks Bri! You got me good and believe me, I'm plotting revenge you BUNGHOLE!