Roaming and Rambling

Last year I would not have believed that I’d be sitting here now on a gorgeous Friday in September in a corner coffee shop in Missoula, Montana with a heavy heart and fingers on the keyboard, missing my Dad more than I’ve missed anyone in the longest. It catches me by surprise every time - the steady march of time and the deep current of change that carves you out without you knowing. Catches me by surprise that I am here and this is my life now.  It’s almost a month to the day that I spent my last day at DOJ in the Office of International Affairs and my last few nights in northern Virginia/DC. I am so thankful that, in those last couple of days, I was able to see each of the close friends that made my time there worthwhile and rewarding. Maybe one day I’ll find the heart, patience, and time to reflect on my time in DC at length. Looking back, I regret that I always framed the whole experience under the umbrella of being restless and unfulfilled at my job. I look at that same ...

It's been a while again.  I'm sitting at my parents' kitchen table in my hometown after a full few days spending time with friends and family and my dog. We are moving to Montana. I say it out loud to people & it sounds like someone else's words. We are moving to Montana and everything is changing now. Everything seems to be moving, shifting, growing bigger, getting smaller, working its way around all by itself. I'm here for the ride.  Leaving Alexandria and the D.C. area has been more difficult than I imagined it would be. The places that carve you out do seem to fill you back up in the end. When I first made the move, I was many things: afraid, tired, depressed, hesitant, on the whole saying that I wanted to be happy and in reality not doing much to cultivate it myself. Cue life and its ways of keeping you honest.  My apartment building was comprised of a group of (mostly) women who were supportive, encouraging, fun, de...

It's been quite a long time since my fingers have found the words to describe this life journey. Perhaps it's that after Costa Rica I doubted that any future adventure, if not on foreign soil, could compare or be worthy of retelling or reminiscing.  But here I am again with my heart overflowing and my mind's pen slowly finding the language to capture all that's spilling forth.  On June 28th, I stood in my parents' driveway where I have said goodbye so many times before. This time, I was not throwing my bags in the back of my car with bravado, but rather I was gingerly placing all I had packed in my Mama's car, fretting over size and space and all that was before me on the unknown open road. Jack and I had been in an incredibly rough time and chapter, yet we were committed to do this trip together. A trip we'd been planning for months and had truly worked to make a reality.  We were headed to work (WWOOF) on a farm just outside of Portland, O...

There is so much poetry that I would love to write lately but I find myself surrounded by scenes whose beauty refuses my words.  So I have been living in the words of others.  Rumi might be the reason that I am not simply still standing, but purely living at the end of this week.  " “And still, after all this time, the Sun has never said to the Earth, "You owe me." Look what happens with love like that. It lights up the sky.”  I wish I could write like that.  Even after all this time, it is still difficult for me to first conjure words on the computer.  I don't know where to begin so I will begin anywhere.  Maybe some advice to myself.  There is a lot to be said for a good cup of coffee. Let no one tell you otherwise. But there is more to be said for a good night's sleep. A solid, stretch your worldly limbs across the space of dreams and free fall into their peace kind of sleep.  It will neve...

It feels good to write again.  Something familiar amid all the noise of this new uncertainty.  I am almost shamelessly addicted to coffee at this point in my life.  I could blame it on a number of things, but really I think I'll leave it to the ritual of a warm mug between my hands in the morning and the aroma of comfort in what I'm convinced is one of its most tangible forms.  People often don't believe me when I say that every moment of life is a bit of poetry to be discovered.  But it's true. The soft and small exchanges shared with others could fill volumes of the most beautiful lines, verse after verse, conversation after conversation.  A wise woman and an old friend of mine once told me that she believed that every conversation shared with another person should be one of intent and meaning, one that furthered each individual in its own way. No wasted words.  It's something I've adopted without even truly knowing how or why I ...

Oh, and so begins my month as a vegan.  Here's to trying new things, eating more vegetables, learning to live without, exploring my own ethics, staying healthy, vitamin supplements, and getting creative in the kitchen.