emotional cartwheels

I’ve got the question, “But what ARE you doing right now?” doing cartwheels in my inbox so I’m going to step out of my meditations on moments passed and give a quick personal update.

Colorado is a state I had never been to before I stepped off the plane three months ago and found a house, work, friends and routine to intertwine these elements. In this way, this particular little plot of land and people hold adventures no different than those I’ve found along my pilgrimages through South American or Asian continents.

I spend a lot of time at work; my “job” is super challenging, but my daily task is getting hundreds of young Americans ready and hyped for truly authentic experiences in developing countries (from Bolivia to Senegal to Mongolia). I get people equipped for the experience that they will eventually sigh over and stammer, “it changed my life.” I assist the world’s richest 1% with becoming emotionally and physically prepared to bathe out of a bucket and live in a nomad tent with yak headers in rural Tibet. And do I think this plays a role in changing America? Yes I do. I would have a lot more respect for our petty little president if he at least had been a guest in the house of an Afghani family before mindlessly putting his machine to the task of destroying them. I do believe the key to realizing any peace in this lifetime will be the world’s realization that every “enemy,” stripped of distance, skin color and ignorance, is a sibling. It’s quite a task, but I put myself to it – one teenager at a time.

I walk to work everyday and usually I walk home too. I went to a writing conference all of last weekend. I take salsa-dancing classes every week. I registered for French classes last night and I’m in conversations with the local art school on when I can begin my drawing classes this spring. I detest the TV, but have spent a lot of hours this week at the feet one of my favorite teachers watching a 6-hour series on, “The Power of Myth,” by my favorite “JC” guru/prophet/missionary, Mr. Joseph Campbell. Also on my desk I have more texts on myth, symbolism, archetypes and image; all words that I consider keys to my, yet to be discovered, inner mystery. During my lunch hour I’m reading more Herman Hesse. Before bed I’m reading more Rumi. And Amazon has just sent me the pile of photography books I’ve ordered with the purpose of adding new corners to the creativity of the visions I capture and share via camera on this website. I have been adventuring at sunrise and set to shoot, but my new digital camera outputs quality and resolutions to which my computer blinks, “no memory,” with a blank text box. As is often the case, I need to delete in order to make room for the new. And as soon as I put the tired to rest, I will post some new pictures as well as some rough drafts of the podcast that I am brainstorming to begin posting on my next adventure across borders.

And, of course, yes, I will be adventuring cross-continents again soon. I have three quotes right now in my inbox for ATW (Around The World) tickets; another walking pilgrimage (across Southern France this time, and yes, that’s what the French classes are for) and a more stationary stint in South India are priorities 2 and 1 (in that order) on the itinerary. I won’t be leaving till the end of summer, but that is but a bat of Time’s eyelashes. In the meantime, I’m feeling fully charged and challenged, which is all I ask of life on a daily basis. Despite the illnesses around me, I have not been sick since I’ve been here and I’m back to needing only 6 hours of sleep, which are both signs that my body and mind are subconsciously feeling very healthy and happy.

It snows in Boulder all the time. And I’ve never seen anything so beautiful as the white blanket being knitted in the sky, at the hands of the snow gods, right before my eyes. The next day the sky is clear and blue and it’s 70 degrees. The next day it snows again. This is Boulder. And the rapid evolution of weather emotions and experiences matches my character perfectly.

It snowed like this yesterday. On my walk home from work I pulled on every branch of every tree I passed to watch the white confetti spring into the air and fall like magic (always tends to do) on my path. At a street signal, one particularly large nest of snow on a tree didn’t spring so much as it did dump…on my head. And me, and the man in his car stopped at the red light, silently laughed out loud together.

 

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