Monday, August 18, 2014


  In the last few years (and especially accelerated during the last year) I have embarked upon a journey of limiting possessions and setting my intentions towards a country life. I have too much stuff, too many things. I've thrifted most of my life and it's my job. Of course, far too many tings make it into the house. My once affordable (cheap even!) city is now home to seas of computer tech drones, corporate cannabis producers, net moguls, etc... There are no more deals in the Emerald city.
  In my 20s the mid sized frenzy of Seattle city/night life was just right to me-at times even too tame! I loved roaming the streets and bumping into friends and acquaintances at every corner. I've mentioned before, that I basically lived in bars and was a real prancing pony, girl about town. I thought it would never get old. I was a steadfast champion of the city.
  Slowly, my love affair with the night life soured. When I stopped drinking, etc. my disposition became more thoughtful and delicate. I now feel overwhelmed by all the noise and often brash or clashing personalities that I encounter. I feel like I am a sponge and absorb what I am immersed in and I don't really want to absorb everything that I finding here, in this city.
  I find myself dreaming of quietude and less of this and less of that. More space, more trees, dozens of hives full of bees, a vast garden to tend and goats to milk when I wake up. I daydream about the simple life, pick-up trucks, cabins and dirt roads. It's a kind of wallpaper in my brain. At one time, the daydreaming was enough to soothe my nerves. I had always planned that it would become reality but at a more distant future, 3-5 years off in the horizon. I feel more urgency today.
   Last weekend I was in the country, on a rural Island paradise, with the man of my dreams and it felt so perfectly quiet, calm and lovely. I've visited this Island before and I always leave feeling recharged and inspired and fiercely yearning for my own country heaven. I appreciate the limited choices of commerce and the lack of ugly shops, fast food joints and people people people everywhere.  You have so much more personal space in the country. Your own little bubble can grow bigger than the, what? 12 inches or so you try to maintain in the city... I love that my phone didn't work and I wasn't absent mindedly checking inane websites or my inbox for non-important emails.
   I have always felt most myself in nature-meadow, field, or forest. I can be psychically open and take off the spiritual armor I have to wear in the city. I enjoyed so many conversations about ideas, goals, experiences. Far too often the conversations I have with city friends lean toward consumption (new shops or restaurants visited or items bought) and extreme character criticisms (yep, gossip).
   I am tired of rushing all around town. I would not miss the sound of the buzz saw that my neighbor runs daily (everyday, for real, why!?). I am annoyed by the sound of the lawnmowers and leaf blowers everyone on my block is so fond of.  I want trees and dry grass and dirt and dandelions tufts and dragonflies and hillsides all around. I want to sit creek side and listen to the sounds birds and bugs make. I want to be sloooow and allowed to be still when I want to be. I want to be able to clearly hear my own thoughts.
  Last Sunday sweet Milla made us the best breakfast with vegetables from her garden. Her magical nest was hidden away in the unfamiliar hills and we drove around in circles a few times just trying to find our way off the rambling hillside.
 Nettles everywhere, overgrown and gone to seed.
 There were daytime mosquitoes and so many irritating flying ants-which now, don't seem so bad after all...
      A few days after we returned from the Island, my man went home. I made mixed berry jam and felt super sad that day. I don't think separation ever gets easier. Each time feels worse than the time before.  Having a very limited amount of time to spend with someone you are into is hard. I want to pretend my job is interesting and throw myself into work but my heart is not in it at all. I'm distracted. Though I am grateful to be distracted by thoughts that are intense and sweet in nature. I find it surprising that this man even exists because he is strikingly similar to me in all the best ways. This connection makes others dull by comparison. I don't want to dissect it (much...) or figure it out. I just want to feel it.

   Now I have a carload of total junk to drop off at the donation center up the street. Then I'm going to drink coffee, cut out patterns and go through all these books/downsize the shelves. I just want to move to my rural utopia right this minute. these things take time and all that... but still, I am moving forward and into a new phase of being. xo m

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