Sustenance - Oasis

My back pressed against a cool granite bench, I gaze into and through the tree swaying, sometimes frenetically, above my head. The strong breeze sometimes drowns the chirping birds. But it's the sound of the city - large trucks, bad brakes, church bells - that drown the breeze, the birds, the rustling of the leaves.

I'm transported, out of body, to the shore of Lake Tahoe, the park, a vision in my head of a place I've never been, the home I'm about to make, the seclusion of my parent's yard. It's all birds, whispering leaves, blue sky flecked with fluffy clouds, and when I close my eyes I lose the vision, I hear only the city, feel the trembling through the granite bench. But the wind and the sunlight bouncing over my eyelids saves me from the despair of another moment among the trucks, the concrete, the leering men.

I don't know how I have lasted this long. In this moment, I am the closest to myself I have been in a very long time.

Exasperation. I feel it but do not wish to express it because it will change nothing and I do not want to seem ungrateful. In truth I am very blessed, but I am out of my element, so far out of my element I sometimes forget what it even is. And then a moment comes along - this moment - that yanks me so far back to the most grounded and complete and lost portion of my soul. I remember that it is still possible to feel sane, connected, grateful, observant, present, at peace.

I dream and I dream of this feeling, and there it was. I will savor it, search for it, long for it. And pray that they not be so far and few between. Sustenance.

Creativity

My younger brother, who is in the Navy, is just now discovering some underlying talent for hand lettering and drawing. Like, way better than I am and I consider myself artistic.

It makes sense though, artistic talent runs in my family. One of my great grandpas did his own taxidermy, however awful it was reported to be by my family members. Another great grandpa started a tile floor covering business. One of my grandmothers paints, plays piano and makes quilts. Her husband, my grandpa does woodworking and mosaics. My other grandma was great at sewing and knitting. My dad plays guitar and does woodworking. He also went to school for commercial design and was/is an avid photographer and illustrator. He even developed his own film. My mom is the least creative of my immediate family, but she sang to us as children and is a very good sewer. My older brother enjoys photography, illustrating stained-glass type crosses, he also makes his own knife blades and plays some guitar. I did nearly every artsy thing offered through 4-h as a child. I paint, draw, sew, make stained glass, dabble in woodwork and leather craft, play(ed) piano, do photography, dabble in graphic design and hand lettering.

My mind is blown at how creative and eccentric we all are. You wouldn’t guess it because we’re all very quiet and logical individuals. But secretly, we’re artsy fartsy folks. 

Do you ever wonder..

if you've lived another life before?

Sometimes things happen, or I see something, or I go somewhere and it feels like it's already been a part of me, like I've lived it in another life. It's a sort of nostalgia, but on a different level.

The first time I felt this way was when I visited New Mexico with my family. I was 12 or 13 maybe. I can remember standing on the edge of our campsite, just looking at the dirt and the horizon, and thinking, this is a part of me, this is/was/could be home, I belong here.

The second time I experienced it was in northern Minnesota on the shores of Lake Superior. It was a north woods I had never known, yet known in the very depths of my soul. The wood, the smell, the sound, the air, the sky all tapped in.

What is that?

Similar experiences involve songs. I heard the song 1957 by Milo Greene recently, and I had the eye-popping, stop breathing feeling of whoa, this song speaks to something inside me that I don't know. Now pair it with photos that match the imagery in the song (a bit more north woodsy stuff), and I'm done.

The other song, no images involved but the ones you can create in your own mind, elicits an overwhelming emotional response as well. Edge of Desire by John Mayer struck me instantaneously, the first couple notes hit me and I dissolved in utter disbelief, unable to comprehend the feelings I was experiencing. I still don't know.

What is this?

What part of my soul, my inner being, my mind, am I so unaware of that brings on these moments? Are these remnants of my earliest moments of childhood? Is it in my genes, my blood? Are our souls written for the world and edited by the circumstances in which we grow up?

I love this feeling but it always makes me wonder, am I living correctly!? Should I be pursuing these untapped regions of my soul more purposefully? I don't know. 

You're going where!?

Every time Joe and I mention we're honeymooning in Nicaragua, we're met with looks of surprise, mingled with disdain, scorn, fear and a smirk at our perceived naivete. This response comes mostly from people who are older than us. People our age and younger think it's fantastic.

I have an issue with this. With the older people anyway.

Why would you judge us for taking an opportunity to travel to a place and culture we have never been? Do you have a problem with us expanding our travel log and our experiences and our understanding of a different culture? Why are you judging a culture and place you know nothing about?

We've gotten some pretty silly and uninformed opinions and questions. Most revolve around the violence and poverty, suggesting that as "rich" Americans we'll be targeted and robbed at gunpoint. However, reading through the crime statistics on government websites, it looks like our chances of getting robbed or beaten are the same or less than in any large-ish city in America. I don't know why people think America is so, so safe compared to other countries, especially poor ones. America has some of the worst poverty and violent crime rates!

Playa Marsella 

Our research has revealed Nicaragua to a be a place of unspoiled beauty, nice and helpful people, suitable as a retirement destination for ex-pats, led by a government and a people intent on preserving Nica's best qualities and growing tourism in the right direction - national parks, eco-friendly accommodations, informative websites, bilingual operators.

After reading blogs, contacting hotel owners, inquiring after acquaintances who have been there, I can find few reasons for the amount of fear I'm met with when I tell people where we're going. I am, honest to God, more terrified of walking alone in any US city and backpacking through Yosemite than I am to go to Nica.

What am I worried about in Nica? A few things which I think warrant concern, but certainly not fear.
1. The roads & driving! They are apparently pretty bad and it is unsafe to drive them at night because you could literally drive off a cliff or nose dive into a sinkhole. And I read a few cautionary tales of traffic violations & accidents. Don't want to get locked up! Yikes!
2. Our belongings. We'll have some valuable-ish things with us. Camera, clothing, money, IDs, jewelry? What do we do with our things on the beach when we both want to go into the water? Hmm.
3. Taxis. I'm not super concerned about this, but there are scam drivers. You can tell which taxis are safe based on their license plates, though.
4. Bugs! I hate bugs. I can't stand the sound of a buzzing mosquito at night. And if I feel like there might be crawly things in/on/near my bed, I cannot sleep. The lodge we're staying at the second half of the trip is kind of open air. But it can't be too bad or they wouldn't build them, right?
5. Food and water. This is just in my mind, not a major concern. I drink a ton of water throughout the day, we'll just have to make sure we pack enough bottled water each day so we don't get dehydrated. Since I eat gluten free, I wonder how easy it will be to avoid flour in things, but research has suggested most of the local food is corn based, and produce is always safe. There may be a few uncomfortable days. We shall see.

Beyond that, I am not concerned at all and very much looking forward to this adventure!

Don't be afraid of the unknown, take risks, learn, live life, grow actively. We have few precious opportunities like these, so take advantage of them!

I will soon post our tentative itinerary for this trip, and more photos, stay tuned!

Four states, four days

I regularly find myself traveling through several states in one weekend. This weekend was unusual, but so worth it.

After work on Thursday I drove from Louisville to Waukegan in northern Illinois to see my younger brother graduate from Navy boot camp (also, read about his Navy cruise here). I also got to see my parents, my older brother and his fiance, and her family.

We woke up at 5 on Friday to get to the base 2 hours early to get good seats. The ceremony involved a lot of processional type stuff - presentation of state flags, officers, the divisions, and music. It was great, not really what I expected, I didn't get sentimental and cry, but it was fascinating. It really stirred up feelings of pride and curiosity - for the military, for my brother. I got two hats and a workout tank in the NEX. Definitely need a bumper sticker too.

We all spent time together on Friday. Got lunch at an Asian place. Got dinner at a nice steakhouse. They had a pretty dang good ahi tuna salad. Unfortunately, we had to say adios to Patrick that night. He had to be at the airport at 1 am, for a flight leaving at 6 am (yuck). My parents met him there and stayed till he left (yeesh).

The next morning we met up with Jeremy and Maggie and Maggie's family for breakfast. I had run 4 miles at 630 that morning and refueled my calorie deficit with gluten free pancakes (omg), sausage, eggs, and fruit. Oink.

After that, Jeremy and Maggie headed off to a cake tasting and I went back to the hotel with my parents for a little bit. We parted ways and it was my intention to go home to Louisville and have a relaxing remainder of the weekend.

A couple hours into my trip while talking to Joe, I decided to just drive to Troy (same distance) to see him and go to the Strawberry Festival. We had not seen each other in nearly a month. Horrible. It was a great decision, but that meant I had to drive three hours back to Louisville on Sunday. So ready for this to be over!

Strawberry festival was typical. Partially rainy, partially hot, crowded with obese people. Joe biked 34 miles with his sister on Sunday morning and I ran 4.37 miles. We spent some time planning out our honeymoon. We. can. not. wait.

So, now I'm back at work. I'm actually working on things to help prepare my coworkers for my impending departure! Alleluia!