Here be dragons

My ex barely understood me at all, and what she didn't understand, she had a tendency to dismiss or got pissed off at. She never understood why I want to do the things I do--whitewater rafting, climbing, caving, backpacking, etc. She wanted to travel and see things she'd never seen, but she wanted a tour. She wanted to go backpacking, but then she couldn't get past the bugs or the weather. There was always something wrong. Everything had to be planned and executed perfectly, or she was unhappy. That's no way to live in the world. My plans, if there are any, are usually rudimentary. I adapt and relish the surprises and feel the better for it. When I go somewhere, especially a place I've never seen, I try to experience it as it is. I don't want it to fit some mental image I've built up of it. I want to be an integral part. As Dan, myself, and many others have said, that's the difference between a tourist and a traveler.

Many of the things I do force me to live in the moment. Many force me to be a part of my surroundings ("force" probably isn't the right word, but it's what I'm using for now). The rest do both. I think Meredith understands, and I think she is a traveler as well. If not, she at least tries to understand and doesn't dismiss my validity. I hope I'm as open to her.

The World Awaits
by John Harlin (Backpacker Contributing Editor)
Feb. 1, 1998

"Here be dragons" read the ancient maps wherever a blank corner seemed big enough to hold the fabled creatures.
And for most of us, the dragons still roar. Sure, we know all about the incredible shrinking world. We know that there are only 6 degrees of separation between a Tibetan yak herder and Kevin Bacon, that the one can call the other on a cell phone. We read National Geographic monthly, Time weekly, and watch the world news nightly. Sitting there in the living room with a glass of wine in hand, we feel we know the world-until we actually consider packing the bags and hiking from Zanskar to Ladakh. Then butterflies flutter in our stomachs and dragons roar in our brains. Yes, the world is bigger than our favorite section of the Appalachian Trail. When we strike off for lands that we've never seen, things take us by surprise. But that's the way it should be because those surprises breed a fascination that lasts a lifetime.

Wonko the Sane

I think this time of year is simultaneously the best and the worst. At the beginning of the semester it never fails that time appears to be of abundance. It also never fails that at roughly this time I realize exactly how much I have to do, and how quickly my deadlines are approaching. Yet, here I sit, typing a blog. I just hate when people procrastinate and then complain about it. I'll do it anyway, though. It really sucks that I have to sit here in front of my computer, in an office with no windows, doing calculations and writing instead of getting outside and living my life in this time of renewal (and goddamned perfect weather). Being confined makes it very difficult to shed my winter skin. It's difficult to avoid picking some of that mess back up again in this enclosed space. On the other hand, the possibilities are calling to me, and the world feels big again.

This would make perfect sense to Wonko.

A Penny A Look

Speaking of the little things...I like to watch and listen to Meredith reading Zach his bedtime story. Tonight's was, "A Penny a Look." I think it's a pretty old story. I'd never heard of it before, but it's pretty neat. I like it because it teaches that making money isn't everything, caring for others (even strangers) counts, and Zach was completetly engrossed in it. He was even answering the written-in questions and had just this stern look about him (which looks pretty funny on a three-year-old). It makes me feel good to know that we're teaching him things that he'll carry with him for the rest of his life, and they're good things. Now if he just remembers them when he needs to...

Now, you know you've got a good woman when she can be this honest with you (how's that for a random transition?):
One evening, she was baking some MONSTER cookies for a bake sale at work the next day. She had decided that instead of spooning them out she was just going to make one huge cookie and cut it up into squares. It ended up working really well, but I had joked with her about needing a fire extinguisher, or something before I left to run a quick errand with a friend. After I got back--that's the important part, because she could've just neglected to tell me--she told me that she had a moment of panic when the cookie sheet adjusted to the temperature of the stove, making a loud, resonating metal-on-metal sound. All she could think during that initial reaction lasting an eternal fraction of a second was, "THEY'RE COMING TO GET ME!"

And now she knows I've written this to share with anyone who comes across this page, mainly Dan, and she still loves me. How cool is that?

They're coming to take me away! Ha, ha!

Death and Happy Birthday to the Bourgeoisie

Sometimes I feel like those of us who know that the world doesn't have to be the way it is are the ones who have the most difficulty staying happy (for lack of a better word). It's easy to lose hope when your efforts appear feckless. Then I realize that those people who make no efforts and have sort of given up on the world are living their shallow lives, unaware of the big picture unfolding around them. I'm talking about the people who push their way in when you open a door to go out, those who don't make room for you to pass on the sidewalk, those who would rather give you a dirty look than say good morning. I could keep going, but I don't want to complain from my soap box too much. And I'm sure you get the picture. Anyway, they'll never know what true happiness is. Then maybe a similar soul spots you, or makes some sort of connection and does the smallest, nicest thing that makes your day. I was walking in to work, feeling somewhat down. I was stopped next to a small side street, waiting on a couple of cars to pass. I'd only been waiting a few seconds, but the last car in the (short) line stopped in the middle of the street to let me pass. There was really no reason for this complete stranger to do that, and I wasn't being impatient in the least (as far as I'm concerned, the longer it takes to get to work, the better). But they did it anyway. We both just smiled and waved as I went on my way. Life is often in the little things.

You know, for only having been married for a few months and lived together for a bit over a year, Meredith and Z and I have a lot of pictures. M and I were going through some of them a couple of nights ago, and remembering the things that were going on at those times really made me feel awesome. I have a wonderful family and great friends. Then I came across a picture of my ex-wife with me, my parents, my brother, and his wife. Instantly, I felt like crap. It wasn't because I still had a picture of her. It was because of the memory. I don't want to deny that I had a previous marriage or forget that I made that mistake. It just wasn't a happy time.

I've heard some people complain that most people only take pictures of the good times, that many pictures are forced to appear happy. The particular day of the picture with my ex wasn't a bad day, or anything. As a matter of fact it was pretty decent. But with her, there was always negativity there, in the background, somewhere, and the picture felt like forced happiness...maybe like we wanted to be happy but weren't. The pictures with my new family are all natural. We really are happy. Maybe the superstition about photos capturing your soul aren't so far from the truth. Maybe they don't take your soul away, but they allow it to come through some how. And the little things make themselves evident.

An idea for common parlance

Dan is back from Louisiana and apparently has big thoughts to share. I haven't really heard from him, directly yet, but I'm looking forward to having my ear blabbered off for a while.

How is it that Word will recognize "bryologist" but not "bryology?" I would like to see more of the things that I have become familiar with make it into more common usage.