Well, I write another blog post. I have been traveling for a
long time… basically since I can remember: Commuting from Mission Viejo to
San Diego as a
kindergartener; trips to the East Coast to visit family when we were kids;
various locations to play soccer; and like a madman with my own car(s) as RAG
of SWR. Then I went to UCLA and things slowed down a little. I must have been
feeling the urge and felt stymied at times because of the lifestyle I chose to
live in those early college years.
Then my first real trip abroad, to study in Florence. That changed
everything. The world opened and all sorts of lifestyle-forming experiences
happened. Traveled and snowboarded all over Italy
and Chamonix. Visited cool places just for the
sake of getting on the Eurostar and eating my way across the continent for that month... unforgettable skydiving in Interlaken. Traveling in Europe
opening my mind to new opportunities and before my senior year at UCLA, I had a
brief stint as a camp counselor.
In hindsight, my time at Capital Camps changed
my life for the better. Rob, if you ever read this, “I am eternally indebted to
you for hiring me as a ropes course facilitator.” I can’t imagine my life any
other way. I have been a facilitator ever since, in many different capacities.
I have been playful and curious. I have learned to see things from a unique and
inquiry-based point of view. I feel like I got in on the ground level of all of
the skills a good teacher needs…
Since 2003 I have been moving around… to South
America and back (thrice!). I have been to Japan and spent
almost three years there. I came back to the US and lived and worked in the
American Alps. Deeply exploring nature, being physically active, making
friends, and getting to know the self very well also. And the pattern
continues. In each place, I have spent some time teaching. This is the crux in
which I currently find myself.
I think my addiction to traveling is a state of mind. Just
like Wayne has
always said. It is the state of mind of a curious person who searches for
knowledge and meaning. And not to become the best at something or to monopolize
something. I simply have an insatiable hunger for learning. Whether it is
learning Quechua to entertain locals and bargain for cheaper prices in Peru or answering phones in
business Japanese as an educational administrator, I love languages. Whether it
is an unforgiving bog in Ushuaia at the end of the continent or an underwater
tunnel looking at seahorses in Ton Sai, I love exploring the world to see what
actually EXISTS! I want to know what’s out there, how to communicate with
people and environments. I strive to be a responsible global citizen who can
have some understanding of the way those others live.
So, where does this leave me? I am back into the great wide
open. Free at last. I can choose a direction, work hard to get myself a place,
and maybe find some solace in a lifestyle that I build around it all. But
coming down after a three-month high of traveling this summer is very hard. I
can’t quite see the direction. Once I get that going, I know the rest will fall
into place. But I’m having difficulty seeing that direction. Part of the dilemma
is that “30 is old” to be starting something. Maybe I am past my ability to
“get in” on something. And that has also held me down.
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The Lodgepole Pine is an interesting species of tree because
it demands destruction. It is a conifer that sets itself up for death. After a
good 30 years, stands of Lodgepole are designed to go up in flames. In this
way, their cones open and the seeds fall into the rich soil that one often
finds in the remnants of a burn zone. Fire is seen often as a destroyer in our
human world. But it is in many ways a creator of life. Without the devastation
there is no room for renewal and growth.
As such, I burned a bunch of my “files” recently. Years of
papers I have collected, records of bank account information that really isn’t
important anymore. Two boxes of paper… now ashes in my friends’ yard. I am
trying to let go of the past so that I can accept a new future. I believe it is
in the Lodgepole’s DNA to live in a way that is cyclic. Perhaps I, too, can’t
get away from the cyclical patterns in my own cell structure to keep moving and
traveling and exploring. But there is a sense of rebirth in being able to let
go of the past. I can remember the lessons and life experiences that got me to
thirty years old, but holding on to too much may prevent me from moving beyond
that. So, I remember the Lodgepole Pine and its need for fire to tear through its
life. I know that the snowshoe hare and the lynx also depend on these stands of
trees. They too have cycles that emulate the fire-prone evergreen.
This leads me to the following conclusion: the recent fires
in my life are necessary. They have been a long time coming. Things look
different but there is still a structure on which to build, patterns to follow,
and a rich legacy to continue. In reading Tim Egan’s
The Big Burn, I am inspired and excited for the next steps in my
own life. Though I am only half-way through the book, I can deduce already how
tragedy in flames can bring strength despite leaving a wake of havoc… I can
only expect that I too will find the succor in the aftermath of a Big Burn.
Cryptic to the reader, perfect for me, and a lot more data and text now on the
interweb.
This blog has been a very good outlet for me for five years.
If I could burn the database and the entries therein, I don’t think I would do
it. It is a fun tapestry that explains a bit of the life-forming experiences I
have had in the formative years of my 20s. It is fun to share the pictures
that I’ve taken because otherwise they’d just be locked up in files on my computer.
I’d make scrapbooks, but we are all so busy these days that no one would even
have time to come by and look at them. And I certainly wouldn’t schlep them
around while traveling. So, I am happy for this record of my life.
But if I symbolically burn this blog, then what? Will there
be chaos and destruction? Will there follow rebirth and resurrection? Will
there be the eerie silence more than six years later, paralleling the Freezeout Pass
and Tiffany Mountain trail from the 2006 Tripod
Fire? Will there be a rich habitat with dense growth of flora and fauna? How
long will it take to grow back? How patient can I be in the process? Is it
worth setting the fire if I don’t know I’ll ever see the actual final outcome?
I don’t know the answers to the questions. However, I am
rather excited to have asked them. In the future unknown there is fear and
anxiety but there is potential for growth. In the past there is comfort and understanding, but
no room for expansion. In the present there can be calmness and intensity and
fun and so on, but it’s hard to put into context without some direction. So,
like the cyclic nature of the Lodgepole pine, my life, and even the earth
rotating around the sun, I end this post with the same inquiry that led me to
write it: Direction.
Traveling is great for its own sake. Next consideration is
the direction of travel. Still pondering what to do about this blog... maybe I can partially burn it for a little while.
