resisting much needed fallowness.

the garage heater is humming downstairs, working desperately hard to heat up the cold garage. (we are trying to dry out the carpet that got wet from the melted snow dragged in by buddy's giant tires.) otherwise, it's completely silent from where i sit. i'm upstairs in our new temporary home, on the L-shaped deep purple couch, my legs crossed and extended. the windows overlook the madison valley, and the peaks of the mountains are still hidden by the cold cloud cover from morning. it's half past 3pm already, and i'm still in my pajamas, blanket wrapped around my shoulders. i've only been up for five hours since i stayed up past 1am to watch the season premiere of downton abbey. ; ) 

since january 3rd, i haven't known what time it's been when my eyes first open. i just wake up when i wake up these days. sometimes the bright sun light will beckon me to rise. sometimes (like today), it's dark and cloudy and sleeping until 10:30am doesn't bother me like it used to when i'd "sleep in" until 9am. 

my husband went into town to run a few errands: make copies of keys (which we hardly use), go to the local meat shop, sign up for a gym, and return library dvd's and donate a book i finally finished (ender's shadow, in the slim chance you were wondering). mostly though, i think he was excited to just roam around our new one block town and have some alone time. me too (about the alone time). i've been wanting to be quiet and think...

why am i painting this scene?

well, because i'm reflecting on fallowness today while simultaneously sitting in a large L-shaped couch of discomfort. the discomfort that comes with not feeling like i'm being a productive member of society.

this morning's quote from inward/outward triggered the externalization of my deeper internal jumble:

There is a fallow time for the spirit when the soil is barren…. Face it! Then resolutely dig out dead roots, clear the ground, … work out new designs by dreaming daring dreams and great and creative planning. The time is not wasted. The time of fallowness is a time of rest and restoration, of filling up and replenishing. It is the moment when the meaning of all things can be searched out, tracked down, and made to yield the secret of living. Thank God for the fallow time! 

Howard Thurman

2014 is a sabbatical year for me and my husband. we've moved to ennis to S-L--O---W D---O--W-N and let the dirt settle in our lives, our minds, and most importantly, our hearts. and as much as i know and believe that this is the best decision for us right now, i keep wanting to kick the dirt around; to unsettle the soul because some part of me can't seem to stand still. i need to keep doingdoingdoing and searching for external achievements. it make sense: i have an ego (ha!) and i've been flowing down a fast river for some time now. it's not easy to just bring that much energy to an abrupt halt and to accept myself just as i am, not for what i accomplish.

but i feel the mountains that surround me are calling out to me to settle down, to calm my mind, and to accept (and love) just being. i came here to create a huge wide open space to allow what needs to emerge, emerge. and i predict that the mountains are what will call out "great and creative planning" and "daring dreams" for this life ahead. but first, i need to stop playing with the dirt and let my fallow time be fallow.

it's now a quarter past 4pm. the mountain peaks have finally emerged. i too shall wait (hopefully patiently) for the clouds to clear...

poem | witness

Sometimes the mountain 
is hidden from me in veils
of cloud, sometimes  
I am hidden from the mountain  
in veils of inattention, apathy, fatigue,
when I forget or refuse to go  
down to the shore or a few yards
up the road, on a clear day,
to reconfirm
that witnessing presence.
-Denise Levertov

i am going "to reconfirm that witnessing presence".
amen.

glacier national park | preview

last august, i went backpacking in glacier national park with four friends. it's been more than six months since that trip, but i'm finally ready to share some photos. here's a preview of what's to come.

this photo was taken after a grueling climb up the peak i'm standing on in this photo. i was not myself during that climb and my friends were worried because i had such low energy. it wasn't until later that i realized it was a calorie issue and my blood sugar was far too low. but regardless, we made it to the peak, went through the tunnel and came out to this view. 

it took my breath away and birth new energy in me. nature has a way of affecting me in that way. after our lunch break, we trekked down to elizabeth lake (the one in the photo), where we camped at the foot of the lake. this is where i met two very interesting groups camping at the same site, saw a moose, and possibly contracted giardia.

stay tuned.

bike | epa to santa cruz

i'm usually up for physical challenges. 

just thinking about them get my wheels spinning. so when my friends and i decided to watch pickwick in santa cruz, i thought, "why not bike there?" i had never done such a thing and it made me wonder if i could. thanks to the east bay bike campers group chiming in on the route, i decided to ride to the coast and take hwy 1 the rest of the way south. this was my exact route and the ride was just under 70 miles, taking me 7 hours to complete it. 

but, it was daunting to think about. up until the night before, i had secretly hoped that it would rain that day so i'd have a legitimate excuse to cancel the ride. i was feeling scared to go at this alone, in case some horrible accident happened and i'd be found splattered down some steep hill. (clearly, my mind likes to make up crazy stories to get out of the unknown!) 

so i woke up on friday, 2/24 and it was a perfectly beautiful day. (damn!) i packed up 2 pb&j's, 3 bars, 2 apples, and electrolyte drinks and set off at 9:30am to spend the next 7 hours in mostly solitude.

the last time i did something solo for 7 hours, i experienced a complete mind shift: from wondering if i could do something, to wondering if there might be an early way out, to believing that i can accomplish what i set out to do. the remnants of that run was so clearly felt during this bike ride. it was a rush to get up to the top of skyline, which meant i'd be going downhill all the way to the coast.

then it'd be up and down the coastal hills for about 35 miles. the first one being a bit of a beast.

at about mile 45, my bottom clearly communicated to me that it was done, but we still had 25 miles to go. when the pain started, i definitely had long moments when i considered contingency plans...."could i flag someone down and load my bike into their car? maybe i can call esther or heather to pick me up. or what if...?"

but i kept going. 

and stopped by pie ranch to rest for a few minutes to enjoy an apple. 

as i approached swanton ranch, i saw a sign that said "pumpkin pie" and without any thought, i pulled a fast left across the hwy and rolled right up for some pie lovin. i devoured the slice within minutes as i gazed at the vast ocean collecting energy and inspiration to keep going.

as with most endings, it was pretty anti-climactic to see the city limit sign. there was, however, a one-person party inside my heart...a little person blowing a small party horn and wearing a sparkly hat. 

i smiled, and road on.

mt. diablo | a peak & a friend.

i was desperate to go camping, antsy to get out, and relieved when i finally did. sorrel and i went up to mt. diablo for an overnight on 1/15-1/16, froze when it dropped below freezing, and ate chips & mango salsa for dinner and breakfast. lol. we also had a bandit come steal much of our deliciousness, including dehydrated persimmons! rar. 

looks like elephant feet, right?

friday morning thots | 10.28.11

it's been over a year since i noted that i've been feeling a draw towards ashland, oregon. and the time has finally come. 


i'm spending the weekend in a place i know i will call home, without ever having been there. my heart feels open and willing to explore, not just the land, but my internal mountain tops and deep ravines. i call it a visioning trip, where i hope to encounter God in the silence of the mountains and in relationship with my friends. it's time and space to dreamdreamdream, slow down and experience the clarity that comes when i am running with all of my heart and body in the wilderness.


& camping. o, camping. 
enough said. 

high sierra trail | day 7 | guitar lake to whitney portal

today's mileage: 16 miles

we woke up at 3am and started our ascent by 3:50am. it was pitch black and the sky blanketed us with stars. i barely slept because the slight bump i was on began to feel so uncomfortable that i kept thinking i was sleeping like this.

the day before, i had felt in my gut that this would be a hard climb, and it was. hit with altitude sickness pretty early on, i felt miserable for almost the entirety of the ascent. nausea, diarrhea and headaches were my symptoms and all i wanted to do was cry. so i did, in the dark, by myself. 


i'll spare the sob story, but what i came out of this time was this: i can't make it in this world alone. i consider myself an independent person who typically handles things on my own. it's rare for me to ask for help because i know i can probably figure it out. but sometimes... i need to accept my weaknesses, cry out for help, and say yes! when help arrives. i couldn't have made it up mount whitney if it weren't for the committed and generous help of my friends brendon and di.


it took - what seemed like - an eternity to summit. in the early hours of this journey, the sun rose and illuminated the route we had taken and the route we were on. it was both painful and joyful to see (first image); i was at times, in disbelief that i was hiking up a mountain. "i'm crazy!" and "this is so amazing! i'm so glad i'm here!" stirred around simultaneously. but i've found that it's that exact cocktail of emotions/thoughts/feelings that flag for me that i am alive and well...and on a very good journey. :)


when we finally got to the drop off point, i mustered up an excited smile for this picture. but shortly after, my headache came back with a vengeance. 

we finally all made it to the top and caused this hoot, and made it off the peak of the mountain before a big storm rolled through. 


and how awesome is this guy? if i hiked up mt. whitney just to see him... it could've been worth it. (he didn't know i took this picture. i was in stealth mode.)
after what seemed like another eternity of the descent (i.e. 98-100 switchbacks and 6,000' drop). we drove to the nearest town, and ate (a lot). this kinda of mass consumption continued for the next couple days...

high sierra trail | day 3 | kaweah gap to maurine lake

the arroyo valley, surrounded by the great continental divide, was by far one of the most exquisite hikes i have done. my breath was stolen by its great beauty. and mo lake was such a pleasant surprise to arrive to. 

today's mileage: 12 miles. 

for more pics, check out the facebook album.

high sierra trail | day 1 | crescent meadow to bearpaw

after hiking 11.4 miles, we witnessed the sun leave it's soft print while setting into the valley. this experience set the tone for how this trip would be: exquisite. 

for more pics, check out the facebook album.