Submersion

Submersion

I’ve all but cut my ties to SLC. Yesterday I backed down seeing Tracy to every other week which has cause a little rift in the Tribe but it is a step I need to attempt on my own. I don’t know if I’d consider therapy a crutch but it has brought me so much peace of mind from understanding my head and all the intricacies it holds. 

We spoke of the healing power in nature. I am already well aware of the energy that I tap into out here. I have a connection to the outdoors that I can’t find anywhere else. I am glad that Chris is also a much more calm and kind person. I plan to continue to practice  in the outdoors, being an observer, a seeker, a wandering Yogini. To find serenity inside by engaging outside. 

Soma… body. We spoke a lot about my mind and feelings or lack of understanding what I’m feeling or how to relate to it in a healthy way. This has made me physically ill where that energy arises or dwells. What he said struck so deep I knew he had hit bed rock. 

I have always sought out someone else’s words to describe how I feel. I feel very deeply but just can’t explain why I’m crying or what made me sad, happy or what-not… it never mattered so I run away inside. This in turn makes me sick physically. Another step in healing that seems like a daunting task. I just need to find balance. 

The rain fell all night last and everything is dewy and vibrant. The sun is shoeing away the last of the heavy grey clouds. I can here a small bird and the sound of the river. The air is crisp and smells of damp earth. The pine trees stand eerily still waiting for what the day may bring. My mind wanders off. I pray to the mother, to the ancestors, for the courage to continue to find things within myself that have lost their way and that the inner peace will flood my entire being with calm and serenity. 

I enter my mind through meditation, experience, sounds, vibrations and a connectedness with all living beings, animate and inanimate. I get to the center and see through many eyes, many time periods, many memories. I tremble as I look out through these eyes as they walk and talk. As they anguish in their roles to help me survive. 

Wilderness Travelers: Part Three

Life on the Road 

We are but babes when it comes to living on the road. We left the comforts of a masonry four walled building to the comforts of our van/RV. We gave up only the creature comforts that require you to spend mindless hours staring at something that turns your mind to mush. We still have hot water showers, a toilet, a bed, AC, heat, a stove, running water and a sink, chairs to sit on, an IK, a UTV, hiking poles, fishing gear, decorations in the walls and plenty of cabinet space. What more do we need?

Living on the road requires a little more attention than falling through the routine that is “responsible living.” We both have jobs… I take care of the mechanical breakdowns and fix-it stuff and Chris takes care of organizing and anything financial. We both share in driving, cooking, and clean up. 

Our routine varies, depending on where we camp or the weather. Coffee is of course first on the agenda and we make some of the best! Italian expresso makers, Hydro Flask mugs to keep it piping hot and the finest ground coffee. 

We find the most perfect vantage point, looking over a river or canyon, in the early morning sun to warm up. Then we set up and sit as we listen to the sounds, or lack there of. We talk about the day and what we might do or see. Maybe a day in the hammocks reading, maybe a river float, fishing, hiking, sight seeing, or shopping for the weeks meals. The world is our pallet we choose how to color it. 

It took a little time to trust leaving our camp unattended without locking down the place like Fort Knox… After all, this is now everything we own and our home space. We choose to live mostly outside which is where we both feel the greatest connection. There is an unspoken rule between campers that needed to be trusted before we could go away from camp and be ok that no one will mess with your stuff. So far we have not had any incidents. 

We rely heavily on maps and Garmin. Trip Advisor is a good source, as is local word of mouth, for finding the out of the way gems that tourist tend to over look. Although electronics are pretty reliable, they don’t always show you the single track road that goes to the most beautifully isolated valley, stream or lake. In a way we are explorers in own own back yard, after all, the world is our back yard. 

Sometimes we are forced to stay in established campgrounds, rest stops, gas stations or a neighborhood or parking lot. This is just part of life on the road. We prefer dispersed camping on Forest Service land or BLM lands. Sometimes the only human life is miles away and the silence can be deafening. I enjoy being very still and slowly allowing my senses to awaken to the intricacies of the world around me. The colors, smells, sounds, feeling of the sun on my bare skin, the vibrations of all around me, all these create a world of peace and imagination. 

Wilderness Travelers: Part One

Life Off Grid

Life on the road is not a vacation. You are not going home. You are home. You didn’t skirt any chores, honey-do fix it project, or little things that need to be done, because there’s always something to fix on the van, and it’s sometimes harder on the road. 

Living off grid is a wonderful adventure if you have the right state of mind, as my grandparents used to say,”got enough gumption.” Where ever you land is where you call home. Some places feel like a place you’d like to stay and experience all it’s energy. Others are just quick over nights. 

I think that life in the wilderness affords you a certain peace of mind, softens the heart, and gives you a connection to the earth. You live with the flies, the mosquitos, the ants and mice. You’re in their home as a visitor. You live sometimes on dusty roads with the humidity just right, and the air just still enough, that the dust hangs like a heavy cloud, suffocating all manor of life, including you. Other times you’ll live on a desert plateau or a beach, or a mountain riverside. Each pallet a different experience. Each is your little place in the world at that second. Your footprint is very small. 

You may meet people here and there. Each with their own story to tell. Each exist in their struggle to belong, to find something they think is missing. Out on the road there’s only you to deal with (except in a COVID-19 pandemic). With COVID, anyone you meet and even the air you breathe can make you sick. In general most people are kind and courteous, following the rules. We are all on the same path to be calm and stay healthy.

I have a certain affinity for trees, perhaps I was a squirrel once. The taller the better. These enduring sentinels hold years upon years of memories of season upon season. In the Wild I connect to everything animate and inanimate. The depth of the silence, the rivers voice heard loud and clear and echoing through the canyons. The peel of a bird of preys call. This is a place of magic and whimsy. 

You need only 4 things when vagabonding… food, a clean source of water, gas (petrol and LPG) and a safe place to park. We prefer places away from people but this isn’t always possible. So you bend and accept whatever accommodations you can for that night. We are always able to move in the morning to a more suitable place to call home. Everything is fluid. 

Now You Will Listen

And the hand of the creator fell upon the earth

With a calm loving voice

I have asked you to care for what I’ve given you

I have warned you about exploiting the Mother Earth

I have sent warnings and yet you continue to rape her

I have asked you in a gentle way

To protect the waters

And yet you continue to poison them with your waste

I have requested you

To comfort the animals of my planet

And yet you still kill and plunder for sport

I have implored you to protect the skies…the very air you breathe

And yet you continue to pump tons of pollutants into your own life force

I am tired of asking…

Now you will listen

As I blanket the earth and all human occupants with this plague

Now you will listen

But not not by choice

Now I will bring you to your knees

I will rob you of the precious life I have given you

I will take away your freedoms you hold so dear

I will throw you into silence and isolation that your fear will force you to Up hold

Now it is your lives I pollute

I pillage and I steal from you

Now you will listen

In The End… There is a Beginning

It’s taken years and years of planning, building and selling off everything we have owned. Our house, our car, our possessions… short of a 2015 Ford Transit T250 cargo van. The plan was to convert the van into our tiny home on the road.

We started planning in 2015. The list seemed unsurmountable. First off, we owned a thriving car dealership, a house on the hill, plenty of “stuff” collected over the years. All of our worldly possessions had to be slowly released and sold off. Items were given away to anyone who needed our “stuff.” 

Chris and I have been together for nearly thirty years and have accumulated items from our travels around the world, all needed to go. The memories, trinkets, art work, all needed to find new homes. It was, at times, incredibly hard to release items that held memories of an incredible time away in another culture. Some we met the artist, some were bought off the street, from a blanket spread out on the sidewalk. Some bartered for something we owned in return. In a way each told a story that only Chris and I will remember.

As far as financing such an undertaking? Like I said earlier, we owned a business, a house and tons of stuff. Next we had been stashing away the maximum possible in our 401k for the last 25 years or so. Properly invested, it has become a nice nest-egg for funding the remainder of our lives. We sold the car dealership in March 2020 and our home in November 2019. With the proceeds from theses sales we were set.

We procured the van in November of 2018. It was a super high top, shorty, with single rear wheels. It seemed like a daunting task to imagine building this empty shell into a someday home. It was quite cavernous, stark white, bare walls, a stinking rubber insulated mat that has soaked up years of landscape smells, no windows except for the two back doors. My imagination was reeling, the cogs began to put a bed here and a cabinet there. I thought about how much I didn’t know about solar, electrical wiring, plumbing, carpentry and running propane lines. Building the van was going to be an adventure in itself.

We started small with searching the internet for build blogs. Vanlife is a real thing!

Now You Will Listen

And the hand of the creator fell upon the earth

With a calm loving voice

I have asked you to care for what I’ve given you

I have warned you about exploiting the Mother Earth

I have sent warnings and yet you continue to rape her

I have asked you in a gentle way

To protect the waters

And yet you continue to poison them with your waste

I have requested you

To comfort the animals of my planet

And yet you still kill and plunder for sport

I have implored you to protect the skies…the very air you breathe

And yet you continue to pump tons of pollutants into your own life force

I am tired of asking…

Now you will listen

As I blanket the earth and all human occupants with this plague

Now you will listen

But not not by choice

Now I will bring you to your knees

I will rob you of the precious life I have given you

I will take away your freedoms you hold so dear

I will throw you into silence and isolation that your fear will force you to Up hold

Now it is your lives I pollute

I pillage and I steal from you

Now you will listen

The Breaking Point

I woke up this morning

Tears in my eyes

The dream was so real

But was it a dream?

We are living in a time

Where close physical contact

Can be deadly

A hug… a handshake…

A kiss… could seal your fate.

In my dream

I went away

Traveled to distant lands

But all the while…

my heart ached

Never again was there to be human contact

Never again could I lay my head on shoulders and weep

Never again could I connect in a hug

Never again could I gather with friends and laugh

In my dream

Fear runs the world

Man afraid of man

No matter where I went

It was all the same

How can such a world exist?

How can people continue to exist?

People cry heavy tears

A woman holds her dead child

Children hold their dead parents

Hundreds burned like logs

The apocalypse?

A sinister unseen death hangs over the land

It randomly chooses its next victims

It is uncaring and doesn’t discriminate

Old, young, teens and anyone in between

It has robbed us of our freedoms

How can we live without touch?

How can new love begin?

Babies born that lie in plastic boxes

Not able to feel human touch

Mankind cries silently in their protected spaces

Fear gripping their very souls

I fear we are near the breaking point.

 

Isolation

The great shaman came to the tribe

It is a grave message that I speak this day

A famine has come to the world

A famine of unprecedented fury

It steals the very air we breathe

It brings suffering to all it touches

It overwhelms whole societies

We all must pray

Ask guidance

We all must listen, watch and learn

It is prophesied thru the ages

The tribe listened intently

The women wept tears that flowed into streams and lakes

The men, broken-hearted,

Lowered their heads in grief

And the clouds covered the sun

The children cried out and the birds stopped their song

The mountains trembled

The wind blew with fury

Today the healing must begin

Today we learn to be isolated

To live with our selves

To attack this with all the love of a mother for her child

To hold our selves closely and protect our hearts

Today we must open our eyes to reality

We must believe with all our souls we will survive

We must start this day to pay attention

Pay attention or pay the price