Monday, March 28, 2016

Todays journal entry

I'm working on changing the world in my mind. I'm struggling with the words in my head but I'm still trying. I often beat myself up, looking back at the thing I did or didn't say. I look at the alternate universes and outcomes and expect a perfect picture.

I am art, and I am messy. You can't look at an oil painting and judge it like a watercolor. I am a collage, a mixed-media piece of work. Someone can look at a like of cut-out pictures, layers of glue and random bits, and still see beauty.

It's not about what gallery you have been accepted into, it's the movement that brought you there.

Sunday, March 20, 2016

Vulnerability.

I have figured out what being an adult means to me. I am twenty five years old, but I have no idea what I am doing. It's not just because I am flying by the seat of my pants, I felt this same way working an intense full time job. I have no idea what the future hold, and part of me loves it. I find myself being asked "what are your plans?" and my thought is "Plans? I still don't even know where I will be sleeping tonight"

This might strike fear in a lot of people, but after months of being here, I find peace in it. Every question mark throws me into a state of awe when it is answered.

How will you eat? I don't know, but I haven't gone hungry yet
Where will you sleep? I don't know, but I have a hammock and a voice and one damn strong will.
Where are you going next? I don't know, does anyone you know have travel plans?

The list can go on. Yes, I get caught in anxiety and confusion sometimes, but then I look around, and I take a breath, and I laugh.

A few days ago in Denver, I was leaving a Buddhist Monastery when I was asked "Are you okay?"
I responded with tears. I just got a bill I couldn't pay. I wanted to talk to a close friend, but they were busy with their lives. I wanted to meditate, but all I could focus on was the pain in my limbs. shortly after, my friend texted me. A day later, I received word of a check that can pay the amount with some left over. I have a bed I can sleep in.

Every "I don't know" turned into a helping hand. I made it through another day, and no one was against me.

I am currently sitting in a quaint apartment in Austin, Texas. I am petting a dog named Teddy. Yesterday, the owner of this house let me borrow her car to go buy Teddy a cone because he is nervously itching anything in his reach. I am sleeping in her bed and eating her food...
and I haven't even met her yet. 

She is a friend of a friend. She understands what it's like to be young and confused and living on so little money. I am glad, because I barely understand. So many people I have met want to offer and help and do anything possible to be there for me. We all help each other and are trusting, because we want this cycle to keep moving. Getting a job that holds me in a place I am not sure I want to be in is like looking at a jail sentence. I would rather feel the breeze in my hair while I was hurtling towards the unknown than have a steady paycheck that did nothing to support my happiness.

I am happy. In a weird, slightly demented, sometimes dizzying way, I am happy. I connect with people over the smallest of sentiments, and they want to give me their time an energy. Every on of these moments is a gift. Some give ideas of how to make money, some share stories of places I plan to visit, and some just want to listen. most of these conversations end on the same note of jealousy. 

I wish I could do that. I have all these things keeping me from it. Maybe one day
That is so brave, I could never travel like that.
I could never think of doing that, but you're a badass.

Thank you, but here is some honesty; I don't always feel like a badass. My internal fraud police are telling me to get a job, settle down, stop kicking up so much dust. Some days, my megaphone is on and I can shout and march towards them forcefully. Other days, I stay indoors and keep quiet while lights flash and helicopters circle.

All I know is me. I have the ability to be strong and keep moving forward. I can keep putting one foot in front of the other, no matter what noise happens inside my head. I know I have depression and ADHD and anxiety, but my heart doesn't know that. It knows how to pump. My lungs know how to take the air around me and keep my body sustained off of it for a prolonged period of time. Stopping isn't an option, because right now, moving is what keeps me alive.

Keep adventuring. Love yourself. Be a badass.

Wednesday, March 16, 2016

Gifting as a means of sustaining

"That's your world, isn't it?" A lady asked, pointing at my backpack.
"Yes, it is. It's everything I need" I responded.

I have always been someone who cycles through their clothing and items, at least twice a year. When I had a full wardrobe, if I loved an item, but hadn't used it in over a year, I knew it's time to donate it or give it away. Maybe someone else will love that item as much as I did. I am constantly looking at my pack, and deciding what I will, wont, or might use. I'm constantly using this as a way to focus my energy on what I have, because if I have it, I have to carry it.

Putting the weight of what I own on my back has been a liberating and eye opening situation. I was used to the things I becoming stagnant and doing very little to me, but I held onto them for the sake of owning them. Like I have stated before, I do still have stuff in boxes people are holding onto for me. Though their weight is not on my back, it's on my mind: It still has some affect on me. One of the hardest things for me to cycle through have been gifts I have received throughout the years.

Gifts have always been a big part of my life. My mother would use any holiday as an excuse for gifting, be it Saint Patricks Day, Valentine's, or Christmas. It was obvious that giving gifts brought her the most joy, sometimes more than receiving them. Since I have have been travelling, gifting has become a huge focus of other people to help me keep moving. Money as a way of life has changed from a river to a trickling creek.Travel was a seed that has blossomed into a garden of discovery.

My Original pack was gifted to me by a wonderful friend who wanted to be sure I was safe and dry. She also bought me a waterproof cover and a gortex jacket, and made my original leaving date in Washington lovingly memorable. As I was preparing for this post, I realized that a lot of the things in my pack were gifted to me. I've been slowly learning and transitioning into the gift economy. Money still trades well for some needs, but is no longer my only form of currency. Another thing I have learned is that keeping a gift turns it into capitol. When I look at my pack and see all of my items, I get to constatly ask myself it they would be more helpful to someone else (like the West Coast map I gave to a fellow couch surfer who was motorcycling the US). 

I do still need a list of things, so I offer to work, or put it out in the universe that I need something. An alternative to placing an amount on the work I do, I can ask for one of those items as a trade. I also have to unlearn that getting a gift comes with an exchange of some kind. Sometimes, people just want to give and not receive anything more than a thank you.

Below is a picture of most of my gifts, and the one below that is of gifts I didn't directly ask for. It blows me away realizing how much has been given to me. Showing these images is a way for me to realize the good that keeps coming to me. Some days are really difficult and I want to give up this adventure, but looking at the mark left on me by others is grounding, as well as calming. The world is full of selfless people, and in my current and future gifting, I aim to be as helpful and humble as possible. Thank you all for everything you have given me, be it visible, mental, or emotional. Not all gifts are things that I can carry. Not pictured are all the meals I have been given, couches I have been offered, smiles that have warmed me, and deep conversations that have taught me more than I ever realized I could learn by walking out my front door.



Ripley the boxer mutt for scale

Saturday, March 5, 2016

The small steps

When people ask me how I got where I am today, I give them a small summary of a conversation had over wine with a good friend about what would make me happy. I looked at what my life was set up for and barreling towards, and I didn't like what I saw.

I looked around and saw all my clothes. A full closet, one side dresses, the other shirts and tops of all different fabrics and lengths. A large drawer for only t-shirts, which I religiously ordered off of the internet whenever the design 'called' to me. A drawer of misc dress up clothes, and separate drawers for my collection of underwear, pants, jeans, and lingerie. I had a large chest from my grandfather just for shoes. I had a stand up jewellery box, a shelf full with over 20 Monster High dolls, and a constantly messy floor. This was my stuff.

I had a solid job that had plenty of space for growth. My boss' were amazing and gave me plenty of wonderful opportunities to set my own schedule. Our clients were increasing and our days were filling up, and this gave me more money. I would find myself blowing through a paycheck, only to look back and think "I didn't need that doll", "I could have spent less on that meal", "Why did I buy that thing?"

These were the things that made me realize I wasn't happy.

I looked around at all these people that had my complete love and devotion, and I realized that staying there wasn't doing me much good. I was putting myself in situations that made me uncomfortable or unhappy, but kept telling myself that I was making them happy. Why wasn't this enough for me?

I felt like a terrible friend, employee and family member, until one by one I explained myself (usually clumsily and stumbling) to each of my people. The responses I got were a wide variety. I was overwhelmed by friends that wanted nothing more for me to find my happiness. I also ended up having a good amount of these turn into full conversations, exploring how they other person wanted to find their happiness as well.

I'll never forget who I was, but who I want to be is turning into who I am, day by day. These people still support me, and I constantly feel their love. I now live out of my 65 litre Osprey, and a couple of boxes (in constantly aware of) still at my mother's house. I keep receiving gifts, and am always working on sending them back out. I'm constantly flowing and I never want to see myself stagnant.

Thank you for helping me become the person I want to be.

Wednesday, March 2, 2016

Instead of a wall plug, a battery pack.

I need something today.
Yesterday I gave my time and energy to so many different bodies of light, and what I received was love and happiness. Today I am depleted, not because I gave too much, but because I recycled. I fueled my actions and kept moving, and focused so much on the big puzzle.
Today, I'm focusing on some small pieces. I'm still working and giving, while I am aware I need gifts as well. I could have staid in bed and bathed, but I am venturing out and seeing if I can find a faster way to recharge.
Keep exploring new waves of energy. Do not allow yourself to get upset when your light is dim, at least you are keeping it on.