thanksgiving

As I sit here basking in the glowing warmth of Christmas Day, I'm finally getting a chance to process photos from Thanksgiving. My favorite holiday held up again for an amazing vacation. We took our annual Thanksgiving Day hike with the dogs, we drank good beer, and shoveled our bellies full of home-cooked favorites. 

The vacation lasted for a full four days. Amidst the recent chaos, I had no idea quite how busy I was until I took the time to hit pause. I was reminded what boredom felt like. I enjoyed it too. Had it gone on longer, I might have gone crazy. Instead, its brevity gave me just the right amount of time to process. You don't realize how fast you're running, how much you're putting out instead of taking in, until you s-t-o-p. Sure, yoga allows me to pause each day, but it also involves rushing to the yoga studio, getting in my physical practice, sweating, and then biking home to quickly wrap things up before bed. It's not exactly stopping. 

So, thank you Thanksgiving for giving me the break I needed. For reminding me that the best creativity is born from moments when you have nothing to do. For surrounding me with fresh air. Let's remember to stop every once in awhile.

Happy belated Thanksgiving.

open space

The other day, I read an article that talked about negative space. It described a hand. The negative space in-between each finger defining the edges, and allowing our brains to make sense of physical matter. "Without nothing, there cannot be something," it explained. The negative space allows us to make sense of what is.

It got me to thinking about other ways in which this is true. I decided that it also holds beyond the physical. Without sadness, we could not understand happiness, and moments of quiet help us make sense of the chatter. That, is why it's so important to relax, to meditate, to do yoga, and to get out and hike in nature -- even if it's the middle of a snow-ridden winter. We need moments to free the mind, so that we can then reign her in. We need mother nature and her wide open spaces, so that the world and all her clutter can make sense.

That is why I return.

the journey

I've been on the road a lot lately. As I write this, I'm sitting in a hotel room in Harrisonburg, Virginia. It's just me and a big fat bible. The bible came with the room, I'm just a person passing through.
The long hours have left me a lot with myself. I don't think I've ever spent so much time in my own head as I have this past month. For some, that might sound great - the wide open road, time alone - but for me its been a bit bumpy. You see, I've always liked a certain amount of time to do my own thing, but at the end of the day, I like to be around friends. I like the energy of people close by, and without it I get lonely.

But I haven't had much choice, so instead I sit with it and let it happen. I stop myself when I start feeling sorry because I know this is a significant turning point in my life. Right now, I'm chasing after my own, and I cannot expect others to chase with me. At the end of each long journey, I've found immense joy and meaning for the road ahead. These are experiences meant for me, and me alone. Along the way, I'm building a strong sense of self awareness that for the first time ever comes from within. I find a pillar of strength in that.
I've come to realize that I have a self identity outside of interactions with other people. It's easy to develop an outlook on yourself based off of the way others treat you, and what they tell you about yourself. But when you step away from that mirror, who are you? 

Me, I'm a thinker...and a nerd. I listen to way too much NPR, and today, I caught myself engulfed in CSPAN radio as I drove through Washington DC. Why? Because I find it interesting and informative...and the kind of knowledge I should be filling my head with. As I drove on and the station fizzled away, the channel changed to country. I'm embarrassed to even admit it. The last time I listened to the country music station was back in high school. In fact, back then I loved it! It was my radio of choice. Maybe I like it now because it brings me back there. It reminds me of when things were simple. When life really was pick-up trucks, beer, and boys. When I really did spend all day on a farm, and head down to the lake with my best friends. As I drove through the valleys of America's wide open spaces today, the music cradled me with the safety I needed out here all alone.

Needless to say, I'm in limbo. It's that awkward growing phase where you don't feel like who you were, and you don't feel like you are who you're going to be. I'm me, right now. This silly being figuring it all out. I dream all day long about what's next. I know I can't stay where I'm at, but I also know that I can't yet leave. So I'm stuck. And I'm growing. I'm grooming myself to be able to do what I want. One day it will come, and when it does, it will be so, so sweet.

moments at home

Adam and I were able to take a quick trip back to Syracuse last weekend. As can be expected of central New York in January, temperatures were close to zero and snow covered every stretch of nature to be seen. Despite the bitter cold we were able to hit the snow shoe trails with my dad and the three dogs. At outset, my fingers were numbed to the bone, but once we got going the blood started rushing, circling in my abdomen and sending warmth to the extremities. It’s hard to explain the beauty that surrounded us. There is no other way to describe it besides saying that it felt like witnessing magic. Gusts of wind would knock snowfall from the trees, and it looked like a million tiny stars raining down. The quietness, the stillness…it was breathtaking.

The indoors felt just as magical. A warm haven of love. The older I get the more and more I appreciate my parent’s home. It’s full of good taste – not too fancy, but elegant and rustic. From light fixtures, to wedding gifts hanging on the wall, I love the little details all around. Above everything, I enjoy how lived in of a home it is. In every nook you can feel the years, the lives of three children, dogs, and two parents who love each other. Both my mom and my dad have their hobbies. My father paints, draws, and builds models while my mom is an avid gardener and reader. As a result the place is full of books, plants, paint brushes – you name it. The environment that all of it creates is so comforting to me. I peruse through and sometimes pick out a book to borrow. I guess you could say I feel at home. I can't help but think, "what precious little moments..."

thanksgiving, you were perfect

Dogs, fresh snow, lots of love...what else does one need to make a great Thanksgiving? Adam and I headed up to Syracuse where the air was ten degrees cooler and the ground covered in powder. It made for great snow shoeing weather, Adam and Marley's first time. Poor little Marley was very chilly towards the end, but she got over it quite quickly when we arrived back home where the fire was blazing and a cozy dog bed laid out in front. She, along with the rest of us, splayed out to relax in the living room before we got to work. Us humans enjoyed an amazing spread of fine cheeses. Finally, it was time to help my mother finish up the meal. All hands were on deck - chopping, peeling, setting plates. When we all at down a bottle of wine had already been finished. It was a great crew with interesting - enlightening - conversation.   I will speak for everyone and say that we all went to bed full of food and happiness that night. It was a great day. For the dogs, for the snow, for the immense love, I am beyond thankful. Here's to many more perfect Thanksgivings!

climbing to pinnacle overlook

As I was trying to wake last Friday, Adam whispered in my ear, "just stay, take the day off." I thought a minute, and after determining that there would be nothing pressing that day, I declared it a three-day weekend. On one condition: that we finally go climb to Pinnacle Overlook.

The highest point in the area, the hike had been on my bucket list for a while. The internet has little documentation on climbing to Pinnacle Overlook, and prior to this day, we had gotten lost on our first two attempts to find the trail. The third time's the charm, and today, we would finally make it.

Instead of going back to sleep, we got right to it, determined not to fail. Every good hiker knows that the morning needs to begin with a sturdy breakfast, and so we biked to our favorite spot for biscuits, eggs, and coffee. Afterward, we hit the road and made it to our destination by noon, just as the sun was directly above the earth.

Everything was perfect. We couldn't have asked for a more majestic day. I'll admit I was a little scared, having heard it was a tough climb and rather rocky. The one trail review to be found listed it as "advanced." 

But when we got to it, I was kicking ass. I charged up the mountain, fueled by the challenge. My heart was beating and the sweat began to bud on my temples. The burn in my buttocks felt so good, and everything around me was peaceful as could be. The experience made me feel like I could do anything.

We reached the first overlook at Pulpit Rock in about an hour. I hadn't had a view like that in years. One thousand feet above the farms below, patches of brown and green farms stitched together with tree lines. Everything looked so soft, like I could reach out and pet it. And to think, I would have been at a desk had the day gone any differently.

Onward from Pulpit Rock, we continued along the Appalachian Trail’s white blazes. The path was fairly flat from there, with little dips and ascends to keep you from getting bored. We ran into two duos who were in it for the long haul. They were both attempting the entire Appalachian, from Maine to Georgia on foot. Talking to them, I had to keep myself from bursting with jealousy. Inside I as all bubble and fizz. What I would give to be able to leave it all for the woods like that. Are they loaded with money, or just plain brave?

At a man-made pile of rocks we finally ran into the blue blazes that would take us to the Pinnacle. Following their direction for less than one-hundred steps led us to the view I’d been waiting for. How many times, how many fits had I thrown, wanting to make it to this spot. It was worth every huff and puff. This was the climb I had been waiting for. The best view in the state. The mecca of Pennsylvania climbs.

We lingered and climbed around like playful children before deciding to move on. Another hour and we were back at the car, a five hour hike in total. We immediately b-lined for town to find a cheap diner. That’s two diners in one day, we know how to live.