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soledade
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Name: Sarah
Location: California, United States
Birthday: 4/15/1986
Gender: Female
Interests: converstations that make you uncomfortable in your skin and your mind expand, art in all forms (that stimluates any one or more of the senses. ) Rockclimbing(bouldering), spanish, psychology, people are absolutly facinatiing, anything with outside- i love that place, rain or shine. travelling. books. comfortable clothes, and colors.
Expertise: I am expert barista. i am expert changalita loca
Occupation: Student
Industry: Education/Research
Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
AIM:  itleads2trouble
Member Since:
5/27/2003
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| I am pressed to write as the anticipation of this bicycle adventure is about to take place. 1500 miles from seattle to long beach. Ive fought through much resistence. why am I doing this? how is it going to work? its going to suck, and by suck I mean grueling, sweat, hunger, discomfort. which, if I remind myself are all things I truely enjoy. " anything worth doing in life, is hard" It will require all of oneself. I kept thinking, I should spend this time and money pursuing forward direction in a career or education. where do I get off thinking I deserve this time off. Much of my resistence comes down to a bull-headed desire to do what I want to when I want to. This strains out to be little more then a lack of control and independence. This trip is not about me. Its about alyssandra. I knew that as soon as all the writing I did on the blog was rewritten or completely deleted, and then the blog was taken over. and I began to pout. Plans and obligations came in that I didnt neccisarily agree with, people I didnt know were being invited, which in my mind became liabilities, variables to manage. more and more of my money was being spent as comittments weren't held. soon I felt like I was on this blown out, over-promised choas carvan, that was about self-glory and self-promotion fueled by unrealistic optimism.
then I began to realize that, I've got a lot of "adventure experience". Having all of the money and credicards stolen from my uncle on day one in italy, on an "uncle-funded" vacation. 90 miles deep into the high sierras, with two blown out knees and no ride home. having a transmission blow 40 miles out of portland and being stranded there for over two weeks, and then again an exploded injector-pump and 3 weeks in new york with no money.
When my brother heard about this trip he jokingly replied" Ive already taken time off to come pick you up"
But even as I typed each of those " adventure catastropies" I remembered the divine providence that surrounded each one. the "trail angels" as my canadian back packers called them. Somehow in italy I hardly remember the lost money, I WAS IN EUROPE, at 18 having the time of my life. so what, we lived on bread, salamie and cheese, from local delis. save me.
As hard as it was to leave the trail, I remember the blessed hikers that gave my hiking poles, knee braces, and encouragment. and of course that OC family that just happened to be docking the farry boat to camp vermillion and gave me a ride home. what are the odds...God?
being stuck in portland, we found a good dude, who toured us around and let us sleep in his living room for two weeks, and quickly we made a group of friends that made portland feel like home, we were never bored. always blessed. we even gained a travel companion. duncan, who travelled all the way to chicago with me.
and again in New York, a loft to stay in, a bartended that filled my nights with fine bourbon, and a couple of beautiful women that took me to upstate to see thich that than, and down to new jersey to se the east coast. I experenced things in each of these situation that were lovely and mind opening. that would have never happened had I just travelled on.
I mean If I had not blown that tire in god knows no where eastern plains of colorado, I would have never met sherm, harvested the plains, and gained a life long friend.
sO, I guess I need to just c.t.f.o. ( chill the funk out) and trust. I used to trust alot more.
So heres to it, probably the more epic thing Ive evdevoured on this far. cheers.
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| has it really been a year? a year since I felt free enough eo express thoughts openly on a blog? anytime I have thoughts I see the counter thought. but here are a few of the things Ive written recently.
4/17/12
Purpose
Community
Intimacy
Financial stability
Self - expression
Entitlement
Here are the four places I find my discontentment. They are as a diagram, covered in circles with overlapping sections.
Purpose, why am I here, what am I doing, how do I benefit the world, where am I going, what are my goals, what is important to me, how should I spend my time, what should I focus on. Perhaps this issue is specifically acute due to my education. Being well informed of the global injustices, and environmental catastrophes, and general state of the world and America, leaves a heavy burden, a sense of responsibility, begging the question “where do I begin?” how do I fit in to actually make an impact? Pretty quickly this course of thought brings me to working for a non-profit, which I see as generally inefficient. Band-aid treatment to an overwhelming disease. Of course there is the truth that I can not take on the whole world, but rather to choose an issue that is specific to my heart or locality and trust that others will do the same all around the world.
And my response: these things I know to very important to me, if I pursue them as goals, my life will have a sense of purpose.
1. Be the best healing nutritionist
2. Become a duela/midwife, holistic natural feminine well-being.
3. Be invited to the TED convention
4. Pull the rug out from Monsanto
5. Urban farming
Community, I am lacking a support group, I have exisited on the fringe of social spheres my entire life, I haven’t maintained good relationships with women specifically, and struggle to become involved in peoples lives, or have them involved in mine. I find myself envious of people that have “crews”, or a group of people with a strong bond. I am not sure how to create this. At times I have whether it was by having roomates, or a boyfriend, but they never truly became mine. This was not a strong suit for my parents, neither of them, separate or together.
My response: be intentional. Invite those I wish to have in my life over for dinner, write letters, send emails, text. Be thoughtful and show up, offer to help. Invite them in. be other-centered. Reach out and open up. Go to church. Go to meet up groups and make amends.
Intimacy, falls inline with community. but this is for the inner circle, my most intimates. My lover, to receive love and believe I am worthy of it. To work towards being open and vulnerable. Learn. Learn what it is to be intimate. For some reason as I contemplate this, God keeps coming up. Spirituality must be a major part of this equation. I know that I am shut off to much of this, “feeling”. I know that intimacy in relationship is not something that was modeled. I actually have no idea what it looks like. Much of me believe that it shouldn’t even be about feelings, but rather function and commitment. But that might be my guard. I really don’t know, I know that when it gets brought up, I just want to be left alone. The reflex is run. The only people I would say that I’ve approached true intimacy, sustained are mom, Kelton, heather, Allison and Chelle. Im not sure what I’m missing here but I don’t think it is as it should be. Healing is in order.
Financial stability- I have a college education, I’m smart, attractive, a good communicator, a decent writer, capable of most physical tasks, and willing to work my ass off. I can not work for less then 20 dollars an hour, and I need benefits. Id like to not even be working hourly, but lets start somewhere. I don’t want to commute, but im willing to move. This part is pretty cut and dry. I can not sustain my life working at viento, and God knows I’m board to death.
My Response: get a kick ass job
Ill address entitlement and self expression in the next
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| These are the places that speak to me most. I am currently in the small agricultural town of Ojai, Ca. Little would have put Ojai on the southern california map, with out the abundence of nautural hot springs. in the 18oo's when california was getting the reputation as the cure-all climate, Ojai- shortly after the gold rush discovered its hot springs and mineral springs.
The wealthy flocked to these hills , to soak in healing waters while drinking mineral tonics, the warmth of the california sun, cooled by ocean breezes made ojai a epicenter for healing. of course this lead to a formal train stop on the tracks and soon after, industry- primarily horticulture began to flourish.
For me, this is one of those sacred places is california. I have yet to see one corporate chain other the vons and chevron. The land is jemmed with horse corrals, ranches, farms, independent business, more hippy-dip buisness then even my liking.
I camped at the rose valley recreation area last night, it didnt cost me anything, anything. I simply parked my truck set up camp and watched the stars pop as the sky light began to fade.
This place is a retreat, a retreat from southern california living. from "la" people. it is not that anyone has been exceptionally nice or welcoming or even helpful. But they are not consumed by the same things we are . I need that. The whole mission of this trip was to make it to the ojai foundation.
I've heard legend of this place and today with no reservations arrived. (reguardless of calling and email I couldn't get a hold of them) . I am guided by hand carved-wooden signs up their long dirt road to the guest parking. the few structures I see are earthen, I can not tell you if they were specifically adobe/cob/ mud houses? but they are clearly made of the earth. there is a hand drawn map that essetially says, enjoy your self and respect this place. The entire vibe of this place beckons respect, honor and a meditative state. It is silent. The landscape has hardly been cleared or built on with the exception of foot paths, lined with rocks. The paths are lined only so the natual habitat is not encumbered by over-use and curious vistiors.
The hill side is coursed with foot paths. but you never really know where your going till you get there. domes, yurts, teepee's, earthen structures quietly reveal themselves as you explore choosing you next path. there are no signs, you simply walk and arrive. At times, you follow a path and through the brush you see a rock cirlce with a tiny fire pit, and a bowl of water. This place is intended to burn what you want out of your life and create something new.
You walk down another path and a mother oak, whos branches are so large have reached towards the skies, and come back to the earth creating a perfect circle around the trunk with plenty of space of sitting inside, beneathe her limbs. And yea, this may sound like some hippy new age business. But reconsider, perhaps it is more like a space the natives would have held sacred. an the base of the tree, is a rug- they call her the teaching tree.
other paths lead to sweat lodges, and inground ampitheaters, medicinal gardens, sage patches, a pottery workshop and earn (sp?) a ropes course where rites of pasasge take place - The whole time I am exploring I am waiting for the "run-in" - "what are you doing here?" did you pay? -- not one of the structures was locked. not one, everything was open. This blew my mind, at the end of a long hike there was as shaded kitchen with well water, compost restrooms, sitting areas, a domed in-ground space you could create a fire and enjoy with many people.
As I walk I am most astonished with the light tred this group takes on this land. the water is respected and conserved. the structures are eathen, no concrete. the electricity that is available is all solar-powered. there is no other electricity. You have to remember to shut of your light so you have some in the evening.
i can not put this all in words, and I dont have a camera.
What astounded me was the lack of agenda.
ojai foundation has no religious, cultural, race, age restrictions It was purely a sacred place. apparently until recently the place was a commune- yurts domes and teepees were occuplied by residents. of course the city/state shut all that down. but even more the history of this slope side is that it is only a part of a much large project. in 1927, A woman bought 450 acres of the ojai hills and plains. Her intention was that it would be a place of freedom for arts, agricultre, spiriuality, music, --- on this property now, there is the ojai foundation, a communal farm, an arts school and so much more.
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| in my room there are no bookselves. in fact there are no bookshelves in my entire house. it is not my house. but I live in it. and so there is a stack. a large stack of books that have accumulated on the small floor in my room.
There are books on gardening, and urban farming, books on nutrition and natural healing, a book on grant writing and a book on building ones own cabin. there is a book on fertility and midwifery, there is a book on sewing, two cookbooks and two large books on indigenous people. for good measure one large bible.
All of these have been acquired since november. ( excluding the bible)
Had you seen my bookshelves a year ago there would have been books on psychology, sociology, theology, some poetry books, lots of christian living books, a spattering of world religion, there would also have been some travel books, languages, philosophy and some of what I consider to be really good literature.
It is not that these things are unimportant to me now. and It would be wrong to say that "a transformation has occured"
I have become consumed with the present, the close, the concrete. The immediate, the seen and sensed. Products of my hands rather then intellect.
And it is not believe that they are divided, and perhaps that is why the switch in focus is was so easy. I did not forsake one thing for another. I have accepted them as one. The work of my hands can be as glorifying to God as if I spent time in a worship service. I have just begun to see "God" in the soils, in our biology, in created things. I see His prints all over. I do not look to the heavens anymore when I prayI look into the eyes of those i am praying for, I stare at the city the trees and everything growing and changing near me. I see him in my own humanness I feel closest to him when I am most fully human, most connected to my surroundings, most present.
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| I am going about my day. I drop an object into the street. To me that object has great significance, I am connected to and have a frame of reference for it. I drive away. That objects lies still and now meaningless in the street. A man, who has no significance to me and I am not connected to see my object in the street, He has no connection to it and it has no significance to him.
This whole time the object has no capacity to be connected or hold significance for anyone or anything.it is inanimate. but by being material, it exists in space and time.
however when that object is returned to me, myself and that man become connected. which is significant.
I am not sure why this thought amused me so, but it did. | | |
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