May 2. A waft of morning air spilling through the tree leaves. Wind, warming up for the afternoon. What I love best about living here on this mountain is the air. A cool wind blows down the northwest rim, dark night winds sing memories back to me and the air carries the scent of pine, redwood, damp leaves and earth.
We have the extreme privilege staying in a lovely travel trailer, for which we are deeply thankful, and yet we are living a bit more off grid than expected and have a bit of a walk uphill and downhill to the road and the car, with groceries, drinking water, to do laundry or use the full-service bathroom. We don’t have regular trailer hookups here and need to be mindful of the gray/black water waste. But we do have electricity, internet and plenty of lukewarm and cold well water running from the tap in the kitchen. And I’m gaining a ton of respect for all privileges I have. I’m positive I will be a better person at the end of this lifestyle change journey.
Some people sit and meditate. Others climb Kilimanjaro. Along with my regular morning walk along a path lined with redwood trees, I also hike to and from the trailer multiple times each day. Lugging water jugs, my backpack and my arms filled with whatever I need to carry, I walk mindful, stepping carefully.
When we first arrived in early April the ground was muddy with rain water. Soon yellow, white and purple flowers dotted the earth and my footsteps formed a path. The flower season was short and as the weather warmed the ground turned crisp. Green foxtails appeared, and quickly dried, sticking in my socks. In the beginning sometimes I grumbled about the daily supply hikes in the rain or heat, arms loaded and then it became my form of mediation and I came to enjoy the journey, paying close attention to the earth and sky.
Although we were very lucky to have the privilege to take our time while we search for a place to live, time is running out, so please hold prayer, good juju, fairy dust, or whatever you believe in, that we find a small home within the next few weeks. Because I really don’t want to move into an apartment and we can’t stay here for more than 90 days.
Love to everyone! Deep bow, and may any pain you are carrying lift and may love and joy surround you.
May 10. The hunt continues for a home of my own. It’s not going well. Each time we find something we like and make an offer we are outbid. Thankful to have temporary shelter and a beautiful sky above. Sage down, prayer up, holding faith. Learning hard lessons. Walking gently and stomping this good earth. Thankful for love and shelter. Continuing to let go of material possessions and expectations. We are too crowded in the trailer. We have too much stuff packed and too much stuff stored, not enough space and too many thoughts. My friend Stacy referred to this as a “soul polishing” experience. On my low days I cling to her beautiful words. Stripping off the old expectations, shedding, growing, reaching. I look up and see the trees...
May 11. Another offer submitted. This time a tiny space, near the ocean. Fingers crossed!
May 20. A big sigh of relief. House Hunting days are over. We will be moving in soon. Meanwhile, morning walk here on the mountain, and my thoughts float free, peaceful, easy, deeply thankful. I'm breathing a prayer of thanks from the depth of my soul.
May 31. Never guessed I’d be living near the ocean again. Peaceful walk, cool sea breeze, pine trees. We are beginning to move in, painting and fixing and alternate between days at our new place and returning to the mountains and sleeping in the trailer at night.
June 1. Last night in the trailer. Months in the mountains living a bit more off grid than I expected. So many lessons learned. My emotions riding air currents upon leaving, soaring high, crashing deep. The next chapter begins...
