When I adventure towards a specific physical destination, does the adventure start at the moment the car ignition turns over and I back out of the driveway and turn my intention north, or the first morning at the destination with french pressed coffee in hand made with freshly ground beans thoughtfully provided by the host up the hill?
The reason I ask is I am either getting a late start or a timely start. Hmmm. I think the first thing I will do is forget late or timely and get my body tuned to SaltSpring time.
Since this is posting #1, I think I will explain just a bit about why I am here. Not on the planet, this life, but here on this blogosphere writing about this particular adventure. I won't drown you with too many details, as I am certain they will emerge over the days and weeks I am here. But a bit of background is in order.
I am increasingly drawn to the tall trees, to the big calm water and to the slower pace. I find a certain tightness comes over me when I hear cars honking and deep bass notes resonating from cars idling at traffic lights, one foot on the gas and one on the brake, like neurotic stallions behind the starting gate. I am thinking that walking to the coffee shop is not all I once thought it was. While I love the buzz of the city scene, in smallish doses, I can no longer absorb the cacaphony without feeling like it is chipping away at my being, the way I used to feel about smoking dope. It gets you high, but you lose braincells. In short, I feel like it is time to step back in time and reconnect with the ground up tree bark under foot, before there is not much left to chip away.
While I would gladly settle into a refuge just a short drive from my loves, I cannot afford to do so. So I am north, looking for a retreat I can afford. With that piss poor excuse for a president gone from sight, I no longer have the drive to abandon the US, but frankly, I am not such a believer in connection to the state. No disrespect to those whose blood runs red, white and blue, but US, Canada, whatever.
So I am here seeing what I see and giving myself permission to feel what I feel. The days ahead are bound to be reflective though I hope to abstain from poetic drippings on your monitor. Well, mostly.
So, I am drained for now. I need to go be.
PS. My friend Jane inspired me to share a daily secret or provocative thought. Today's secret, don't fry your eggs in oil you find in the cabinet of a rental property. It is bound to be rancid, a fact you will no doubt learn too late.
The reason I ask is I am either getting a late start or a timely start. Hmmm. I think the first thing I will do is forget late or timely and get my body tuned to SaltSpring time.
Since this is posting #1, I think I will explain just a bit about why I am here. Not on the planet, this life, but here on this blogosphere writing about this particular adventure. I won't drown you with too many details, as I am certain they will emerge over the days and weeks I am here. But a bit of background is in order.
I am increasingly drawn to the tall trees, to the big calm water and to the slower pace. I find a certain tightness comes over me when I hear cars honking and deep bass notes resonating from cars idling at traffic lights, one foot on the gas and one on the brake, like neurotic stallions behind the starting gate. I am thinking that walking to the coffee shop is not all I once thought it was. While I love the buzz of the city scene, in smallish doses, I can no longer absorb the cacaphony without feeling like it is chipping away at my being, the way I used to feel about smoking dope. It gets you high, but you lose braincells. In short, I feel like it is time to step back in time and reconnect with the ground up tree bark under foot, before there is not much left to chip away.
While I would gladly settle into a refuge just a short drive from my loves, I cannot afford to do so. So I am north, looking for a retreat I can afford. With that piss poor excuse for a president gone from sight, I no longer have the drive to abandon the US, but frankly, I am not such a believer in connection to the state. No disrespect to those whose blood runs red, white and blue, but US, Canada, whatever.
So I am here seeing what I see and giving myself permission to feel what I feel. The days ahead are bound to be reflective though I hope to abstain from poetic drippings on your monitor. Well, mostly.
So, I am drained for now. I need to go be.
PS. My friend Jane inspired me to share a daily secret or provocative thought. Today's secret, don't fry your eggs in oil you find in the cabinet of a rental property. It is bound to be rancid, a fact you will no doubt learn too late.
