wasque wanderer

i can finally think of bioluminescence

of the full moon

of coffee grounds

.

& not think of you.

not immediately have my heart drop

not instantly feel nauseous

.

you are no longer the first thing

the biggest thing

the most painful thing

.

occupying my mind

& some days i go all day

forgetting you.

.

.

.

.

some days

not all days

are getting easier.

(i’m going to start sharing bits of my other writing on here as well…)

everything hurts & i don’t want to feel it. the grief hits me in waves & knocks me off my feet.

how am i supposed to breathe?

how am i supposed to move forward?

how am i supposed to brush my teeth?

to not rail my fists against the walls screaming?

nothing brings you back. but morning brings the memories.

your hands.

your laugh.

your hugs.

your snacks.

your words.

your voice.

how you lifted me up.

how you brought me along with you.

the late night phone calls.

the wild dreams.

the endless laughter.

the galloping hoofbeats.

where does it all go?

what do i do with all this?

how do i find you?

where did you end up?

what did you become?

last night i ran into the woods & starting frantically digging.

running the soil though my fingers asking if you decayed there.

i ran into the wind until my lungs were collapsing.

whispered into my soul searching for you.

i crawl around on my hands & knees, clawing my fingertips & kneecaps bloody. i grab & scramble & run my fingers across saddles & bandages & lost time & missed phone calls & never you.

i can’t imagine being 50 without you by my side.

right now, i can’t even imagine the next 50 breathes without you answering your phone.

there was never enough time & yet i wasted it.

i do anything & everything i can to avoid these feelings.

but at the end of the day, or the longest of dark nights, they’re all that i have.

echos.

memories.

scraps.

so i put on the sad song.

i look through your old pictures.

& i let the tears fall where they’re supposed to—still reaching for you.

(ramblings from my first night at the eco school in whanganui, on the north island of new zealand)

i have finally arrived to new zealand. in many ways, this feels like the climax & purpose of my trip. i picked this location based on looking at a climate map, & finding what was closest to the east coast of the united states. new zealand fits the bill, plus our winter is their summer/growing season. the permaculture design course that i’m taking here will be a review of the PDC course i took in costa rica but my hands on experience & readily available examples will be directly applicable to the climate & conditions i’ll be working with back home.

i cannot even begin to express what a relief it was to finally be able to unpack my bag, since i began my travels abroad i haven’t stayed in one place for more than a few days in a row. even when i was at my grandma’s for 3 weeks i lived out of a packed bag. there is something to incredibly satisfying & homey about having your clothes on a shelf.

settling in here feels like coming home. to look around the property and imagine myself sitting, reading, meditating, weeding, settling settling settling into routines. growing familiar. with the plants, the animals, the birds & insects, the surroundings. for my feet to memorize pathways & hillsides & my hands to familiarize themselves with the particulars of gate latches & goat udders.

it is such a simple joy & blessing to be still.

new zealand lives up to its expectations when it comes to beauty. there is something about these hillsides that is pure magic. i am still growing to learn its curves and am quite certain that while they may grow to be familiar, they are unconquerable. there is something innately wild & yet gentle about the landscape. i’m grateful for the ocean winds.

the space i’ve been gifted to live in for the next two months is quite beautiful. it’s perhaps 12’-14’ long by 10’ wide. i have to admit that when i first walked in, i was a bit shocked. it’s newly built by previous interns but was a bit dingy and dirty. it’s incredible the aesthetic and energetic change cobwebs and some dust can give a place. after a bit of a spit and polish today it is feeling quiet homey.

i am incredibly proud of myself for adapting and adjusting so quickly. my ability to carve out a small, comfortable nook for myself no matter where i am is such a valuable skill i have gained over the past 1-2 years. to think i used to literally vomit from anxiety every time i traveled or stayed somewhere new is astounding to me. i have grown so tremendously much.

in my journaling tonight in the midst of my ramblings i suddenly found myself giving thanks that my most recent ex left me. her exit from my life and these incredible journeys in self discovery, love, and unfathomable growth feel intrinsically intertwined. i found myself scarwling out her name & gratitude for her—but more specifically for her being gone, and stared at the page with curiosity.

i believe this is the first time i’ve written her name or acknowledged her existence without feeling something in my stomach. i wonder if i am finally accepting her role in my life & releasing my resentment towards her. all in due time, it is as always unfolding as it should.

i’m wrapped in a gentle yet strong gratitude right now. i feel completely calm & totally confident this is exactly where i am supposed to be right now.

on a more personal note, i am feeling a strong calling to eat better, to stay sober, and to begin running & being more active. my muscles are craving the movement, & i have a ball of energy within me looking to be released.

i am still trying to sort out my birth chart but if i am reading it all correctly i began my saturn return about 10 days ago. i still have more research to do about what this means & if i’m reading my chart correctly but i do certainly feel like i am coming home. so much is settling into place and my spirit feels like it is finally relaxing into my body. the connectivity is strong. i am seeking to nurse this rebirthing and be gentle with myself and attentive to my needs. i am observing my feeling, callings, actions, and reactions with attentive curiosity.

i am grateful. i am blessed. i am healthy. i am confident. i am joy. i am radiant. i am lucky. i am at peace. i am calm. i am happy. i am pleasure. i am divine.

so as i’ve said before, there is no right or wrong, there are no rules, & honestly there isn’t even a straightforward, all-encompassing formula that i could give you to lead you into a minimalist lifestyle. for a long time i didn’t identify as a minimalist, and even now i sometimes question giving myself this title.

because minimalism looks different for everyone, & it should.

if you’ve never checked out the minimalists you should. they are one of my biggest minimalist inspirations. i love their style, their voice, their programs or challenges, & their documentary (minimalism: a documentary about the important things, available on netflix) is one i watch regularly to get inspired.

one thing they talk about often if how minimalism looks different for everyone, and how they have received criticism for some of the things they still own/have in their life. their response is generally that if it brings you joy and/or is useful to your life, keep it.

one example that has really resonated with me & i still carry in my heart was someone who came up to them on their speaking tour. & said that they had been downsizing their life but couldn’t bear to get rid of their books. they said they trade books with friends, talk about books with loved ones, that they love their books, looking at them, reading them, being around them, sharing what they learned in them, etc etc. how, they asked the minimalists, can i be a minimalist & get rid of my books?

their answer: don’t. it sounds like you get a lot of joy & value in your life from your books, so those are something you should keep.

what rings true to me about this is the customization of minimalism to fit each person’s life. i have horses and a barn. this requires a lot of equipment & tools. never would i dream of getting rid of those things, or even getting rid of the extras or certain things in my barn. any farmer or rider can testify to the random objects which have saved their butt, or their animals lives, in a pinch. i have ropes, chains, clips, hardwear, a spare pitchfork, duplicates of certain items, etc. & these are there for good reason, even if i don’t know what that reason is until it hits me—like a tree crashing down on my fence line in a storm.

so all of this to say, in my typically long winded way, these are guidelines that have worked for me, and might resonate with you. but you have to give yourself permission to be the creator of your own story. make your own rules, break them when you need to, and sculpt guidelines that reflect your life, hobbies, passions, pastimes, climate, needs, and family.

set up guidelines

establish a few rules for yourself & how you will determine what you keep. for me, this varied each time i went through my things with the intentions of downsizing further. i’ve used all of these concepts at one point or another but remember to set up ones that work for you, your intentions, and your lifestyle.

the “joy” test

another simple yet profound concept i’ve picked up from the minimalists (& other minimalist folks) is the joy test. it’s simple. pick up an object. does it bring you joy? yes? great, keep it. no? ask yourself why you have it. usually, it is just weighing you down (in every sense of the word).

the “used” test

have you used it in the past month? 6 months? year? if it’s seasonal, keep that in mind, but otherwise if you haven’t touched it, you probably won’t. this leads into…

the “pass-up” test

imagine all of your clothes are clean. now imagine any situation you might be getting ready for—a night on the town, a job interview, work, running errands, going to the gym, etc. what items do you consistently pass up for other items? what are you go-to favorites and what only sees the light of day when you’re way overdue to do laundry? do you think if you got rid of those clothes it would be more likely that you’d be forced to run errands naked, or that you’d get yourself onto a better laundry schedule? stop holding onto the things that you pass up & only hold onto what you reach for to wear.

customized guidelines

maybe you’re trying to move across the country & only bring what fits into your car, maybe you are trying to go from having 12 of each item of clothing to 6 or less, maybe you have storage restrictions, or maybe you’re like me & have felt some intense calling to give away everything you own except what was given to you. whatever your situation or intentions, set up guidelines before going through your stuff because it’s really easy to start making excuses item by item if you don’t have a system set up going into a purge.

watch out for pitfalls

now we’ll get into a few of the pitfalls that i found myself in consistently. these were areas of my life or items that i struggled to part with or attempted to justify with a variety of tactics…

gifts

yikes. now, like with many other aspects of downsizing, we’re getting into life & relationships, not just things. gifts are hard. we feel obligated to keep them because someone went through the trouble of making them, or of working for money to buy them. they picked out the present, they were excited to give it to you, & guess what? you don’t like it, or maybe you do but you don’t use it that often. maybe it gets passed up for other items that you like better, or are more useful. & now you’re stuck with crap in your life that doesn’t hold much value to you beyond the fact someone you like or care about bought it for you. uh huh.

so ask yourself, does this person really love & care about me? If the answer is yes (which like, duh, i hope so) then they would want you to be happy, fulfilled, & not stressed or anxious. they wouldn’t want their gift to feel like a pollutant in your life, clogging up space.

also, how often does someone really ask you if you’re using the gift they got you? maybe right after it’s been given they might ask if you’re enjoying it but even that doesn’t happen that often. & never before have i had a friend call up & be like “hey, remember that *random object* i got you 5 years ago? you still use it? you like it? that working for you?” or how often do they walk around your apartment searching for an item they gave me. honestly, in our culture, we’re so used to material possessions coming & going & giving & receiving that we forget about a lot.

let it go. it’s not a gift if it’s weighing you down.

sentimental objects

i’m guilty here. this is the part i struggle with the most. maybe you have tender memories while wearing a certain sweater, or an old doorknob from the house you grew up in, or pamphlets from some event or concert you went to. you have a couple options here.

take a picture then throw it out—this doesn’t work that well for me but for some folks, it’s perfect.

create a limited space for it—this works great for me. i have a tiny box for each ex of mine, with maybe a small gift they gave me or a note they wrote. these are important to me & don’t take up much space at all. same with a small box i have with my stuff from college

find ways to make it into something else—frame it, make a quilt or tapestry from it (great for T-shirt’s or awards ribbons) anything that you would like to display & see regularly instead of keep shoved away

remember the experiences, lose the belongings—honestly, if it’s in your heart or mind, does it need to also be in the back of your closet? how much of this memory is actually attached to a particular item? do you need that shirt to remember the place or concert? if you can do without the physical reminder, let it go. if you’re worried about forgetting details or events, write them down. journals full of memories are much easier to store than the physical evidence of you being present for each one.

that said, i will remind you of my #1 rule with downsizing & minimalism: be gentle with yourself. i still have a bag of old toys and blankets from a cat of mine that was killed. numerous times i have taken it down from where it lives in my closet and gone to throw it away. each time, i feel nauseous & a wave of panic overcomes me. there is a lot of trauma embedded in her death, & i have a hard time parting with anything related to her (i also had a horrible incident where the majority of my pictures of her were lost off my ipad). this is okay. i will make room for this bag for as long as i need to, & i will not apologize for it.

you do not have to get rid of every single thing you own, & you do not have to do it all at once.

you can justify keeping something by just saying that you need to keep it. that’s fine. for me these were the items that began weighing on me and typically inspired my next big purge, & that was all part of my journey.

design a system for getting rid of things

everyone has heard of the tried and true cleaning system of making three piles: trash, donate, keep. this is a great start but in reality, we often need more piles. i have a few tiers i run through when i set aside a “donate” pile and if i’m not organized when i start my clean out i get easily flustered and confused.

so you’ve got a bunch of stuff you’re ready to give away—great! but not everything is destined for the thrift store.

give away to friends and family—i usually set aside items for specific people—things i think my mom might like, or that fit with the style of certain friends. i either bring these items to individual people, or assemble small groups of friends to go through a pile of give away goodies

consign—now depending on the items, your budget, and how much you like your friends, this might be the first stop for high quality items, or your friends/family might be the first stop. either way, these are higher quality, designer, and/or newer clothes & accessories

thrift store—gets the rest, especially odds & ends, books, household items, clothes etc. make sure they are clean, seasonally appropriate for the weather, & usable. do not use your local thrift store as a dumping ground—if you think it should just head for the trash, toss it & save them on the dump bill.

red cross clothes bins—i usually bring my out-of-season clothes here when the thrift store won’t take them since they send them to a variety of locations & have a much larger sorting system

repurpose—only SOME things, like old t-shirt’s can become rags…& tbh that’s the only example coming to mind right now.

trash—be appropriate with throwing things out, don’t pawn them off on red cross bins or thrift stores. also be responsible with throwing things out, look for electronic trash days & prescription pill collections in your town/county. throwing things out inappropriately can be dangerous & environmentally rude af.

so, having separate piles, bins, bags, etc. while you sort thought things is helpful but you need to remain organized as you go to get rid of things. i would keep a bag of give away goodies in my car for a little & whenever i was with friends would let them go through it. having a gathering specifically for this purpose (potluck & clothing swap anyone!?) is even more successful.

i then would have a day designated to bringing these things to their appropriate resting place. i would start at the consignment shop, then when i lived where i had access to one my next stop was plato’s closet (they’re more liberal with what they’ll take & the money isn’t great but was oftentimes enough for coffee or lunch while running said errands), then whatever was left over from both went to the thrift, and my final stop was the dump.

the key is to commit & to move it. don’t go through bags & hem & haw over each item again, once it’s in, it’s going, period. & don’t let this stuff sit around wasting space & collecting dust, having it designated to get out of your house isn’t nearly the same as having it actually gone.

the key take away points here are to be clear, intentional, thoughtful, & organized when tackling a big purge. otherwise the process can be frustrating, messy, complicated, & ultimately discouraging.

happy clearing!

so having a clean closet and streamlined kitchen is great but in order to get here you’re going to have to do more than just go through your stuff and get rid of a bunch of it.

if you’ve already begun the downsizing journey you know what i’m talking about—minimalism isn’t really about the material objects. it’s about how those objects came into our lives, what they mean to us, what they signify, their cultural and social significance or status, the people who they remind us of, our relationships to ourselves, our world, society, our friends, family, lovers (past, present, future), our lifestyle, our ego…

whoa. that just got intense quick.

yep. this is hard ass work. when we begin questioning the material belongings in our life we are actually questioning and assessing our sense of self, of belonging, our cultural and societal assumptions about success, how we interact with the world, with each other, with our egos.

this is not mindless organization of stuff, it’s a restructuring of our perspective and prioritization of the components of our lives.

see here’s the thing, we have been trained to be consumers since the day we were born. there are tv ads targeted at children, holidays & birthdays often are centered around presents, the concept of souvenirs implies you need to buy a physical object to remember a specific experience, and our belongings signal to others what kind of person we are—where we’re from, what we value, what we do for work, for fun, where we are positioned in society, etc.

one of my very favorite professors, rashad shabazz, is a human geographer who focuses on the ways in which space and place interact with race, class, gender, sexuality, etc. he profoundly shaped my education in many ways. one of the most mind blowing moments i had in his class was when he taught us about the fetishization of objects.

no, we’re not talking about sex.

the example he used was an apple product, iphone, ipad, macbook etc. when you see that someone has one of these objects, you are not just looking at a phone, tablet, or computer. it has entirely difference associations and connotations than a samsung or pc. what comes to mind for you? most likely wealth—this person clearly has some access to money. you might also associate things like being trendy, classy, smart, techy, contemporary, perhaps even organized & streamlined.

wait really, all that from the brand of phone or computer? yep. you know it too.

this is partially trained and partially practiced, some of it is coming from apple’s branding & marketing but also some of it is coming from our experience of how people perform with these items. i always think of someone with a sleek leather laptop bag, minimal things in it, sliding out their macbook air at a trendy cafe, wearing nice clothes & slick glasses, settling in to write something profound for their free lance job.

now, there is absolutely nothing about the apple products that instantly create all of this. after all, they may be proficient pieces of technology and useful tools but they certainly do not come with a new life life in a box (hanging air plants sold separately).

we have fetishized apple products, as we have with many other material possessions. we project much more than their physical or tactical uses onto them. this is literally how designers exist and make money. slap a couple intertwined “c”s onto a handbag and it’s suddenly taken on a whole new level of meaning than its leather components.

so what comes up when you’re going through your stuff and trying to decide what to keep & what to part with?

literally everything.

anxiety about money, stress about social status, reflections on our egos and the image we work to project to the world, our relationships to family, friends, food, our body, our home, you name it.

so buckle up buttercup, this isn’t for the faint of heart.

for me personally, the biggest things i came up against were anxiety and stress about money, and ego & image related things.

“what if i get rid of this item, which cost me $25 or $50, and later find i need it? then i’m spending money on it again when i already spent money on it & i had it!”

let’s break this down:

entitlement—you worked to earn money to buy this object it doesn’t just have a monetary value but a working one, you had to work X hours to acquire the money to purchase this item.

projection—i’ve created a hypothetical situation in which future me is now annoyed, perhaps even helpless

fear—i’m assuming that something will happen and i will not be able to handle it

regret—when future me is faced with said hypothetical situation & is rendered entirely helpless & frustrated by the ways in which i am ill equipped to navigate it, these negative feelings will only be compounded by the fact that i HAD a solution but willingly threw it away

assumption—now that future me is in this helpless god awful situation i will have to take even more of my hard-earned money and spend it AGAIN on the same stupid item i already owned because clearly i will not be able to survive the situation without replacing the item

anger—future me is now mad at myself, at capitalism, and my situation, at the item i let go & the new one i have to buy

what item comes to mind? maybe camping gear, a cast iron pot, or winter coat. but what if it’s just a pair of skinny black jeans? a red handbag? a bathroom drawer organizer? a fancy can opener?

we tend to be a tad bit dramatic when it comes to what we “need,” don’t we?

is it possible to survive the situation without said item? could you borrow it? find something similar in a free box? make it yourself? make due with some alternative?

for me, if it was remotely possible to survive without it, i let it go. and i mean, literally survive. that’s why some of my exceptions for non-gifted items that i allowed myself to keep included things to keep me warm, safe, and/or gear for outdoor activities. but the assumptions about regular every item objects that i hardly, if ever, used…well those i had to interrogate and release.

the other big thing i came across was…dun dun dun…my ego. you know what beyoncé said, it’s too big, it’s too wide, it won’t fit…you think she was talking about the ways in which we project the image of ourselves that we want the world to see through our material possessions?

likely not, but a minimalist grrrl can dream.

so perfect example was this beautiful navy and tan floral, short sleeve, floor length shawl. i bought it at a local shop i adore & when i found it i was in the process of restructuring my wardrobe with items that “reflected my style” fully. i picked it up & thought to myself, literally, “this is EXACTLY what i have been going for, this perfectly encapsulates my image & it is SO ME.” i shoveled out $40 on it & felt oh so glorious when i wore it. it was flowy and soft looking, & perfectly nailed the boho, hippy, tossed-together-but -chic look i was trying to emulate.

when it came time to do my final purge and get rid of everything i had bought, i kept stashing this item aside. it’s fine, i thought, i can have one or two items i decide to keep! (& yes, this would be fine, guidelines are just that—guides—not hard & fast, impermeable rules.)

but i wasn’t being honest with myself. this object, this dyed and patterned piece of fabric i draped on my body, didn’t make or unmake my boho, hippy, thrown-together-but-chic-ness. that was my ego squawking.

see the thing is, people who know me know i’m the same person whether i’m draped in floral fabric or donning stained sweatpants & an ill-fitting shirt. sure, i might look better in one than the other, but these clothes do not capture or project the essence of who i am.

i do.

so my incessant, frantic need to cling onto items that projected the kind of human i wanted people to assume i was, was just that—projections & assumptions. i was performing, trying to get people to think of me in a certain way, & yeah i’ll be honest, trying to make them jealous of me. i wanted people to look at my flowy floral shawl, or the painfully hipster hanging plants in my shed-home, or the handmade leather bag i was carrying & think “wow, i wish i had/could look like that.”

i mean, lezzbehonest, that’s the end game here, isn’t it?

yo i warned you, not for the faint of heart.

now i don’t want you to wiggle your way out of responsibility here & assume the people i’m referring to are only high-maintenance, bougie, modern, high tech, city slickers, or what have you. this shit applies to hippies, hipsters, boho chic, gamers, goths, & any other group of which you can think.

the irony of yoga being a multi-billion dollar industry should not be lost on you. neither should the ways in which the green movement still focuses on marketing products, including tote bags or shoes literally declaring that you are saving rainforests or giving poor kids shoes.

instead of simply or fully devoting yourself and your time, energy, and resources to one issue, you want to flaunt that this is what you do. instead of simply being healthy, active, drinking smoothies, & doing hot yoga, you want clothes, accessories, and home goods that literally scream this in everyone’s face.

because here’s the thing about egos—they don’t like to be quiet. & marketers know this.

one of my favorite poets, nayyirah waheed poses the question “would you still want to travel to that country if you could not take a camera with you.—a question of appropriation.” i think the same applies to our material possessions. if you could not flaunt that you donated to help save sea turtles, with say, the newest pura vida bracelet pack—would you still give your money? or is part (or all) of you motivation the fact that it’s a signifier that you do indeed care about sea turtles enough to give out your money to buy something that states it, donates a small percentage of what you paid to actually helping said cause, & then “brings awareness” to the issue by you being able to brag—er, sorry, talk—about your new bracelets, their symbolism, and the damn sea turtles.

now this isn’t to say that if you talk about how much you love running that you’re only doing it to be able to talk about it—plenty of people literally love running. but what does it say about your ego if you spend money to walk around wearing a shirt with some catchy phrase about it? where is the line between pursuing passions, and projecting the image of what that type of person looks like? where is the relationship between identity, possession, and performance?

now the queer feminist in me is screaming to take a break here & iterate that performance of identity can be & is an extremely powerful form of expression. i am in no way trying to demonize people who use outward appearance to signal certain identities or aspects of existence—there is power, beauty, and value in this. what i am encouraging you to do is to interrogate the ways in which you perform, and your motives behind your actions.

(if you are confused about any of this, please take the time to watch “paris is burning” in order to get a taste for the ways in which race, class, gender, sexuality, and the power or oppression of each, are played out on the body, through material objects.)

for me, it was a lot of egotistical bullshit. it was almost fake. i started to realize that one of the ways i was coping with the incongruence between the life i led and life i wanted to lead was by projecting a certain image out into the world, largely through my belongings (& also shoutout to social media, you beautifully hideous egotistical nightmarish beast).

i’ve started recognizing and acknowledging this, & tracking my behavior. one area of my life where i discovered i had a tendency to throw money at objects without having much integrity behind my actions was when it comes to living a healthier and/or more sustainable life. i’m talking about yoga or fitness equipment, healthy kitchen gadgets, fitness trackers, a kombucha brewing kit, and the like. i noticed a trend where instead of doing the work, i just went out & bought something. my reasoning of course was that once i had the object, it would make doing the work so much easier! & in some cases, this might be true. but often times this resulted in more objects sitting idly in the back of my closet of kitchen cabinet, awaiting but never fully actualizing their intended purpose & use. for me, i was putting ego & image before integrity & dedication.

so i practiced yoga for months on a shitty old slippery, plastic-smelling mat before dropping some cash on my beloved manduka travel mat. & currently i’m playing around with seeing how much i use my $2 loose tea ball before i consider buying one of those swanky infuser bottles. because i’ve found that when something is important enough to me, i find a way to get it done no matter what i have at hand. & in this process i tend to learn more, about myself & what i’m practicing.

i also want to take a moment to recognize the ways in which i am privileged enough to be in a position where I’m discussing interrogating & dismantling the societal attribution of power and success onto objects. as a white, middle-class, able-bodied, cis woman i do not have much to prove socially. the way i dress, decorate my home, & the objects i surround myself with do not immediately reflect on my class, race, gender, and ability. if i’m looking disheveled people assume it’s intentional, not because i’m incapable of caring for myself or performing femininity. if i’m dirty or wearing torn clothes it’s assumed they were thrifted, or perhaps even bought from an expensive brand that distressed them intentionally—not that i am too poor to afford new/nice things or that they are dirty from being working-class.

there is a reason that our belongings and our image are so entangled with our ego—& some of this is survival. these societal indicators are real, & they have serious power. i will never shame someone who grew up poor or without housing for wanting a sprawling home filled with nice things. this is something i cannot understand from experience & therefore cannot judge. i would, however, gentle encourage that person to look at the ways in which material possessions run their life, & what they generate for them. it is very possible that their belongings do give them a sense of safety, accomplishment, & belonging, & that is something that i cannot argue with from my personal experience & perspective. the traumas of capitalism run deep. keep this in mind before shaming anyone else for following a different path than you when it comes to their material life.

i hope i haven’t scared everyone off & some people are still reading. i know shit got fairly intense rather quickly, & that this stuff isn’t necessarily fun to think about and work through. what i can promise you though, is that no matter how much you get rid of or how many things you keep in your life, if you start doing the work and asking the questions, you will learn profound amounts about yourself. hopefully it all leads you to living a more congruent, authentic, content, & joyful life.

a few months ago as i was driving down the coast toward north carolina, i was thinking about my journey into minimalism. just before heading off i had done another big purge of things, & was feeling pretty good about it all. one day i was dropping off a car full of donations at my local dumptique when i came across what is now my favorite sweater. & in that moment, it hit me: what if i got rid of all my stuff, & just saw what came into my life organically? i am, after all, a powerful manifestor & believer in abundance. i was curiously enthralled with the concept.

then as i sometimes do, i got what i consider a calling, when this little voice in my head literally delivers a message that i hear in specific words. “give away everything you have except what has been given to you.”

what?

that’s absurd, i thought. how would i even live?

but as often happens when i get a calling that i know will ultimately be/become true in my life, it hit me in the gut. hard. i almost had to pull over.

shit.

i tried to push it out of my mind but deep down knew this was going to become a part of my life.

& so began the most intense & most recent journey into minimalism i’ve experienced to date.

it began as an idea, & like most good ideas this one needed some time to ferment. okay, deep breathes. of all the things i use regularly & rely on, what would i be able to keep?

well, my favorite sweater for one, my frye boots, a nice little black dress that i could dress up or down, oh wow, even my mattress, & a couple of my favorite shirts. okay, i wasn’t doing so bad. i couple things were grey area, a table i built from wood i found on the beach but bought table legs for at ikea…hmm. but shit, what about my health? well, i would be able to keep my orthotics, my custom orthotics sandals (thankfully my “second dad” & former boss is a podiatrist, these are truly crucial to my body’s health & well-being) as well as my favorite tinctures & digestive bitters, & the couple natural pain relief creams i use.

wow, i was really beginning to feel blessed, & recognize all the love & care that pours into my life. i could pretty much survive off the generosity of my friends & family.

& that was exactly the point. everything i actually really truly needed had been given to me, & so had a lot of things that were luxurious items. hand me down electronics (thanks dad), fancy clothes (shoutout to my dear friend shay), cute decorations made by or gifted to me from friends. my initial visions of a threadbare wardrobe & sparsely decorated walls were quickly fading as i began recognizing all the abundance i have been given throughout my life.

there were, of course, a few logistical things i couldn’t avoid—my toothbrush & toothpaste for one, the running clothes i’ve bought, the backpack i still needed to purchase for my carry-on-only round the world trip coming up. so i decided to lay down some ground rules & categories first, rather than finding excuses to keep certain purchased items as i came across them. my list reflects my lifestyle & priorities well.

things related to hygiene & health

things that keep me warm, safe, active, and/or outside

things related to art, music, & education

things that allow me to live a more sustainable & waste-free life

things related to my animals & barn

things made by friends or local craftspeople i want to support

things i need for work

in addition to only keeping items that fit into these categories, i decided that i was also instituting a buying ban, with only the same exceptions applying. my intention is to continue with this buying ban for the full year of 2018. i will similarly be cautious about whatever free items i accept into my life.

as i continued to run through a mental inventory of my belongings (it helped tremendously that i had just laid hands on literally every item i owned) i realized they were either gifts/came into my life for free, or that they fell into one of these categories.

now i was feeling pretty confident but also mildly terrifying. shit. this was actually starting to shape up into something reasonable & feasible. i knew i would ultimately end up jumping down the rabbit hole.

beginning my travels really helped push me over the edge, as living out of a 50L backpack really puts things into perspective. compounding this was the fact that in my first month of travel, throughout bits of africa & europe, i still hadn’t even touched every item i brought.

i was gifted the unique opportunity of going home briefly before continuing around the world, & i knew i had to seize my excitement, enthusiasm, & energy. some bad weather left me housebound for a few days & i jumped in—relentlessly.

having a set criteria helped me tremendously. no more wondering, making excuses, or waffling over decisions. if it wasn’t free & didn’t fit a category, it was gone. plain & simple.

the funniest part was that there were occasional items that i would pick up & feel my heart drop at the thought of giving them away. then i would take moment, & remember it was a gift, or realize it fit into one of my pre-designated categories. this was actually working, & it was leaving me with only objects that i loved, used, & were important to me.

perhaps the best part was rehoming some of the items, really lovely things that i intentionally sent to specific people. those packages are now en route, with small gifts arriving into the lives of people i love. i found the joy of picking exactly the right person for some of my belongings even more exhilarating than the thought of keeping them. the giving was addictive, & i felt gratitude & abundance pouring over me to even be in a position to give away so much.

when i hopped back on a plane to singapore, my pack was even lighter than when i had left for morocco, & so were the storage bins i was leaving behind at home. when i return home this spring & move into my shed, the process will be a breeze. & after living a fully, safe, content, & joyful life out of a small backpack with minimal possessions for so long i will not be coming home to piles of unnecessary crap that would only energetically & physically weigh me down.

moving no longer overwhelms me, & my things don’t control what choices i make. now the only logistics that i grapple with if considering a long distance transplant center around my animals, not my stuff.

the simpler my material life becomes, the fuller my mental, emotional, & spiritual one becomes. i am excited to continue to grow into this ever opening & unfolding space, as i continue to explore myself, & my relationships with money, the material world, my lifestyle, & how i impact my environment.

when i moved from my condo in burlington, vt i still had a good bit of stuff. again, by most american household standards, it was not a lot, but especially by my current standards it was, to use the official minimalist term, a shit ton.

i pride myself on being an exceptional thrifter, and everything in that condo (save the couch, 1 side table, silverware, & a couple picture frames) was second hand. for years i scavenged thrift stores & tag sales & had accumulated quite a beautiful collection of home goods, decorations, furniture, etc.

except for a few pieces of furniture (bed, desk, dresser, & a couple side tables) i was glad to get rid of nearly everything when i moved. my thought process had always been that I’d buy it for cheap, use it for a few years, & donate it back to my favorite thrift store for them to resell. along with gifting things to friends, i unloaded most of my belongings this way.

for years i justified keeping things by the fact i had bought them at a thrift store. in vermont some of these were private owned, but by funky awesome people, or goodwill, which has some programs & initiatives i support. at home, the thrift store either support community services (an umbrella organization that provides oodles of amazing, life-changing services) or the boys & girls club.

(quick side rant: fuck the salvation army. i will never support them in any way. they are queerphobic pieces of shit.)

the things i bought were inexpensive and were supporting organizations & causes i like, it felt like a win win.

except i was slowly drowning in my piles of stuff.

this helped me realize that just because something didn’t cost a lot of money, doesn’t mean it’s okay for it to be taking up space in my life. this also helped me connect to some of my insecurities and issues around money, because i realized how much more difficult it was for me to part with things that were expensive.

my therapist once told me to replace the word “money” with “mommy.” as in, “i need more mommy!” or “i’m so anxious about mommy.” it was a kind of funny way to recognize the ways in which our issues with money are actually issues deeply rooted in approval, insecurity, comfort, success, and ego.

i’ve talked in a previous post about money, & again, i recognize my privilege in the fact that i’ve never had to worry about money, not in a life-or-death, hunger-or-being-fed, i’m-worried-about-keeping-a-roof-over-my-head way. i do not mean to invalidate the very real & dangerous struggles associated with poverty.

but for the most part, once basic needs are being met, in a heady kinda way, money is bullshit. it’s not real. our economic systems are complex numbers and concepts floating around that are not even backed by gold anymore, but even if they were, are still imaginary systems of exchange. like seriously. take a step back. money. isn’t. even. real.

so why do we spend so much time worrying about it, working for it, using it to buy shit we literally do not need & do not bring us happiness—in fact many things actually make it more detached, less present, less healthy, and most importantly, less happy?

my relationship with my things began bringing up all sorts of anxiety about money. well, i got that for cheap so i should just keep it. it was a good buy, a steal! or on the opposite end of the spectrum, oh, that cost a lot of money, i should keep it because i invested in it. & my favorite—playing hypotheticals, well what if i need that down the road? what if i get rid of it now & need to buy a new one later? then i would’ve wasted money twice!

now, mind you, when i say “expensive” i’m not talking hundreds of dollars. i mean like a backpack for $25 or a pair of jeans for $40. these are not bank-breakers but i’m cautious about my spending. my grandmother saves and reuses envelopes (i was long ago trained to never write on or seal them when giving her a card) so thriftiness runs in my blood. i was literally defying genetic impulses when working through this stuff.

so for years my downsizing and purging would result in maybe a basket full of odd-and-ends, and a large trash bag full of clothes to be donated. nothing major, but i was plugging away.

& still buying.

see, here’s the thing, & this is what i see a lot of people encouraging. “clean out your closet so you have room for more!” “get rid of last year’s trends to make room for this year’s!” our culture has been catching on more & more to the idea of decluttering, of getting rid of our things—but the emphasis is largely on making room for new, not truly downsizing.

& in this way, i was actually wasting, & spending, a tremendous amount. i cannot even count the number of times i have brought something back to the thrift store, unused by me, with their tags still on it. now i’m not opposed to the boys & girls club making that $4 twice but the cycle was starting to feel absurd, and hypocritical. my house was becoming a constant flow of stuff in & out.

& yet i was still only using the same things, my favorite items.

but i let fear and a mentality of scarcity run my life. fear of getting rid of something only to later need or want it, anxiety about money, a mentality that if i got rid of that really funky sweater i thrifted a few year ago but rarely wore, i’d never find another one quite the same. i was feeling compelled to hoard these things, “just in case” or “just because.”

then i started to feel the energetic shift.

when i thought about keeping things i felt my energy clawing around them and clinging onto them, leaning on them as a false sense of security, belonging, ability, success, purpose, & inspiration.

buying things, looking at my things, being surrounded by beautiful things, being in a space full of things, moving things, storing things, organizing and reorganizing things, holding onto things i never used because i felt obligated for whatever reason, this all started to weigh on me.

even when it as in a clean, organized, well decorated space i could feel the extra basket of miscellaneous stuff, the jewelry box overstuffed with things i never wore, the closet taunting me with garments i couldn’t fit into or didn’t love, the floor teeming with various shoes and sandals & even an random pair of heels, prepared for a variety of situations i was unsure would ever even happen. i felt obligated to be ready for all sorts of hypotheticals, & was fearful of what would happen if i found myself ill-prepared for a set of circumstances.

it was really starting to impact my energetic and emotional health.

so my purges would get larger, my criteria for keeping items became stricter, & the lightness became addictive. i continued plugging away, going through my things every few months or even every couple weeks, or sporadically grabbing a few items that were bothering me & giving them away.

i was still stuck in an ebb & flow of getting rid of in order to get more, but i felt like i was getting closer. each object i introduced into my life was more specifically what i wanted, a better reflection of my aesthetic, values, lifestyle, and style. overall the number of possessions was in decline. i was feeling pretty damn good.

& yet this was still about a year or two ago…

(…to be continued…)

how do you practice gratitude in your everyday life?

i’m currently sitting at the airport, it’s 6:30am & i’ve already been up for two hours. i’m about to board yet another flight, followed by a 5 hour bus ride.

i just paid $11 for a sandwich & a juice.

the person at the cafe offered to warm up my sandwich, & put it in the panini press. they then took a few orders & less than 5 min later offered me my food. “so sorry for the wait,” they said as they handed it over.

& i’m sitting here, overwhelmed with gratitude.

let’s just take a minute to review. it’s early. i’m in an airport. i have more travel ahead of me, after being on the international road for days on end. i am paying for overpriced, mediocre food. it took about 5 min to get said foodi’m rather hungry. my flight is going to begin boarding any minute.

by most people’s accounts, i have every right to be annoyed, cranky, frustrated, even angry. i could sit here & say this sandwich sucks, this juice isn’t fresh, it’s too early for this shit, i don’t have time for other people to be waited on, etc etc etc.

the negativity could literally overwhelm me.

& instead, i thought “wow, how lovely!” when the cafe worker offered to warm up my panini. i thought “really? you’re sorry? that was rather quick!” when they apologized for the wait. i thought “what a lovely treat!” when i looked down at my steamy meal. i thought “isn’t it amazing, i was just given warm nutritious food when i don’t have access to groceries, a kitchen, or any space to prepare food in. someone else took the time to transport, prepare, warm, and hand this meal right into my hands!”

i’m grateful for this food, even if it’s overpriced & mediocre. i’m grateful for the crisp morning summer air here in new zealand that i got to walk through this morning on my way to the airport. i’m grateful for the rising sun that i get to bear witness to, the reward for being up so early. i’m grateful for the opportunity to travel, even if it involved endless hours of sitting in cramped, stuffy, crowded, sometimes smelly & hot cabins of planes, subways, & buses. i’m grateful that i’m able to work, that i was able to save up money to bring myself to the other side of the world in general.

i am so incredibly overwhelmed with gratitude right now.

& yet, this is all a choice. at this point, practicing gratitude is second nature to me, i have to literally think of alternatives in order to bring them into my consciousness. my automatic responses to situations are to feel blessed & positive. but it’s still a choice, a choice that i continue to make every moment of every day. to look on the bright side. to welcome small joys. to appreciate beauty. to take a step back & recognize all the ways in which i am so incredibly privileged.

a warm meal. handed right over to me. as i’m watching the sunrise. as i’m preparing to embark on my final two legs of this 5 day, 8,000 mile journey. what a beautiful life. what an amazing opportunity. what a pleasure it is to be alive.

yesterday on my flight i sat across the aisle from this beautiful family, 2 parents & 2 young kids (a todddler & an infant). the 7.5 hour ride was tough for them all, the kiddos crying & crawling all over the parents, the parents working tirelessly to contain & entertain them. when we finally landed we were told we would be deplaning from both the front & and the back of the aircraft. we were only a few rows from the very back of the plane, & i watched as the same wave of relief i felt came over these exhausted parents. one began chattering to the older child about how they were going to be able to see the plane from the outside, and how they would explain it to them as they walked by. oh how exciting!

a few minutes later the cabin crew announced that we would actually only be deplaning from the front, using a regular gate instead of stairs on the tarmac. the parent explained this to their toddler, who was fairly disappointed.

“but that’s alright, isn’t it? we will have other days to explore a plane!” the parent told their toddler. i couldn’t help but smile.

almost 10 minutes went by, & still no progress was being made on us getting off the plane. everyone was standing, folks in the aisle with bags already on their backs, folks standing up in their seats, having to awkwardly lean & tuck themselves under the bulkhead over them.

the kids were practically crawling out of their skin. the younger one was really beginning to get upset, clearing having reached their saturation point, probably hours ago.

“well, i know we’re tired & it’s been a bit of a wait & we’d like to get off this plane but i’ve had worse days.” the same parent said to the angsty kids.

& i just thought to myself, these are some seriously lucky children. to grow up with such a perspective. when it would be, by so many people’s standards, entirely appropriate to complain & be frustrated. to let exhaustion get the better of them & be annoyed.

to have such examples of gratitude continuously expressed before them.

i am grateful to report that there are two tiny humans growing up in a world shrouded by gratitude. they will surely spread their light across us all as they expand into this life.

so take a moment. think of how you practice gratitude in your every day life. in all moments, even those that feel uncomfortable. & if this isn’t part of your regular daily existence, try it out. explore how it makes you feel. watch as your thoughts unfold into feelings, and how these blossom into a lighter, brighter, happier experience, no matter what your circumstances.

& remember, practice makes perfect.

let me go back a little bit and provide some context here about what minimalism means to me, how i’ve been exploring it, and my intentions for its purpose in my life. the story dates back quite a few years, so don’t feel as though i just arrived to this place suddenly and levitated my way into owning so few material possessions. it’s been a somewhat grueling, although amazing, experience & has taken a tremendous amount of self reflection, ego-checking, and work.

to me, it has never been able owning a specific number of things or having one of those super slick pinterest-worthy, all-white spaces. it has been about only keeping what i need, identifying why i need it, and creating a sense of lightness within myself and my life.

it started a few years ago, when i was living in a beautiful condo in burlington,vt, where i went to school at uvm (go catamounts, etc). the condo was a one bedroom, approx. 650 sq ft, with a full bathroom, spacious vanity, washer/dryer in the closet, full kitchen that opened into the living room, and pocket doors into the bedroom. off the bedroom in one direction was a sizeable porch (i was on the 3rd floor) and off the other side was a walk in closet, maybe 5’x5’ with a small 18”x3’ shelved linen area. my dresser fit in there and i had ample shelving and hanging space.

by all means, i had all the room i could ever need & more.

& it was this “& more” that i started to notice, and that once i started to notice, started to weigh on me.

my apartment wasn’t cluttered, & it wasn’t overflowing. there were still a few cabinets in the kitchen that were empty, there was some room here & there in various drawers and on a couple shelves. other than my closets, cabinets, & a chest, i didn’t have much storage. there weren’t shelves hung on my walls or furniture that boasted hidden compartments. by the standards of most american households, i probably didn’t even have all that much.

but holy shit. was it a lot.

i started to catch on in my kitchen. the wall next to my front door had the fridge & stove on it so there was just a small bit of counter between the two appliances, and another small bit between the stove & door. between the appliances i kept my knife block, and next to the door i had my recyclables basket on the counter. & yet what was leftover to counter space in those tiny little bits was where i ended up doing a lot of my prep work & what i used while i cooked—despite having a whole long counter behind me to work with.

i started to notice how i never used more than 2 burners (admittedly, my cooking skills were quite limited at the time) & how i consistently used the same bowls, plates, mugs, cups, pots, pans, and silverwear. the rest of the items just sat around, taking up space, used only as backups when i was way behind on dishes.

i had long noticed how much of my full size fridge/freezer sat empty. again, we’re talking about one person here not a family, so it’s understandable i wouldn’t need as much as more people would. but still, it all started to come together & click for me.

i could’ve done without about 75% of the things in my kitchen, appliance size & counter/cabinet space included.

hmmm.

so i went through my silverwear drawer. some were hand me downs, some from the thrift store, & a full set from ikea. the ikea ones were my least favorite, & i would continuously reach for the same utensils over & over & over. i like my forks a certain size & weight, & especially my spoons. maybe that sounds silly to you, but i encourage you to be conscious of this the next time you reach for a utensil. i can almost guarantee you have favorites.

so why have anything that wasn’t my favorite? sudddenly my silverwear felt frustrating to me. why was i digging through a pile of spoons to find my favorite? why was i hand washing said favorite spoon to use despite having other clean & ready to use options to choose from? the whole thing suddenly seemed entirely absurd.

i was catching onto something.

i have wanted a tiny house for as long as i can remember. before jay shafer’s tumbleweed tiny houses, before dee williams amazed everyone with her 84-sq ft house, before there were pinterest boards & tv shows, before i even knew it was a possibility & long before it was a “thing,” i had a dream of living in a tiny house.

i have always loved small spaces, and felt drawn to this simpler life. i remember as a kid going through my old toys, clothes, & gadgets & cleaning out my room was one of the best feelings in the world. but i also remember the places i would stash boxes or bags of things i didn’t want in my life but also wasn’t ready to let go of, in the back of my closet, tucked under the tablecloth of a bedside table, or everyone’s go-to, shuffled off to the basement to collect dust & mold.

so in some ways my condo, which was certainly the largest space i could ever want to live in, filled with all my crap, made me feel like a hypocrite. it was time for the rubber to hit the road, & for my lifestyle to reflect my plans.

it was time to downsize.

thankfully moving helps this process tremendously, & when it was time to move out of there i knew i had an opportunity for my first big purge.

i had no idea this would be the first of so, so many.

i knew about my move a few months in advance, & if you are also afforded this luxury i cannot urge you strongly enough to start early with this process. there is nothing worse than being exhausted, frustrated, overwhelmed, & making stupid decisions. every move i’ve ever made has ended with one box or bag full of random, disorganized, unnecessary crap i take with me, with far too many things being thrown out that could have been salvaged & donated if i’d had more time, & sometimes with letting go of items out of exhasperation that i actually could have used later.

every night i would take one drawer, shelf, cabinet, or otherwise marked space, scoop out everything in it, and go through it. just one bit a night. every night. for a few months. it was easy enough to do, & i actually started to get a bit addicted.

this addiction would only grow over the next few years.

I’ve continued to observe what i use, & adjust my belongings accordingly. every so often (with increasing oftenness) i get flustered by the sheer amount of stuff in my life, and go through it all for another big cleanse.

every time i go through a big purge, i have certain items I’m on the fence about keeping. typically these are the items that later frustrate me, and lead to the next big purge. it’s amazing to see this cycle of attachement, building frustration, and eventual release.

over the years i have tracked my emotional reactions & this cycle, to the items still in my life, to the items i use, to the items i feel compelled to keep. it has been a fascinating insight into myself, my ego, my fears and anxieties, my priorities, and my lifestyle.

this is part one of a multi-part and ever-unfolding examination of minimalism. i hope you’ll continue to follow my journey as i explain what i did and why, what i learned, and how much i have gained through this whole experience.

hopefully, something in here clicks for you or inspires you. whatever your lifestyle, whatever your criteria, i hope you begin to sift through your possessions and figuring out what’s necessary, what’s important, and what is merely adding clutter to your life. it has simplified and expanded my life in more ways than i ever could have thought possible when i set out on this road nearly 6 years ago.

all of that said, my number one rule is to be gentle with yourself. understand and accept that this is an unlearning, and relearning, ever unfolding process. that you have been socialized and conditioned to place certain value on particular belongings (and/or all of them) and that everyone has a different relationship to money, status, worth, sentiment, and the many other powerful forces that are at play when we begin to dig into our material lives.

if you stick with it & don’t shy away from the heavy lifting though, i can promise the lightness you will feel & the self-awareness you will find is incredible. there are no set rules and there is no set number of belongings you have to pair down to, this is one of those “it’s not about the destination, it’s about the journey” things in life. customize it to your needs, desires, hobbies, and lifestyle. this is your journey, so make it work for you & don’t worry about what other people are doing.

happy clearing, ya’ll! may your hearts & lives feel lighter, & yet more full.

i wrote this a couple weeks ago, so apologies for the belated info in the intro here. the rest is of course still relevant. happy new years ya’ll! i’m committing to getting a couple more posts up this week.

as the year comes to a close facebook and various other platforms are bombarding us with facts about 2017. one of them that popped up on my newsfeed recently was letting me know that i made over 150 new friends this year. now usually i just scroll past these sorts of clickbait crap but this one really struck me, & has stuck with me. the majority of those connections were made during my travels. from friends of friends from my road trip to members of the finca tierra permacult who feel more like family, to people i did ayahuasca ceremony with at florestal, to folks from my first hostel & camel trek in morocco. 150 people. & i am still meeting more.

what also astounds me is the range of my new found network, from california to new zealand to the italian alps. last year i road tripped around the US and stay nearly exclusively with friends, at this point i think i could pull off a similar trip around the world. it astounds me.

also on my trip last year i experienced a few serendipitous moments where i bumped into friends i hadn’t been expecting to see, in south carolina, new orleans, austin, & LA—sometimes running into the same people more than once. this theme is similarly carrying itself into my travels this year. so far i have 3 moments & connections that have really floored me.

when i was in florida this fall i mentioned my full itinerary to my trainer dee, & she lit up when i mentioned barcelona. one of her other clients & dear friends had just moved there.

i had met pam some 10 years before, within the first year of working with dee. pam had also just begun her journey into this style of horsemanship, & i tagged along to watch one of her lessons.

throughout the years, with my permission, pam was one of the only students who was ever allowed the privilege of riding & learning from my wise old horse, cruiser. everything i heard about their relationship was fabulous, filled with laughter and patience and excitement over the small victories he helped her accomplish.

an exceptional artist with an eccentric, colorful style that fills dee’s house, i have admired pam’s work throughout the years. i had no idea until this fall that she was raised in barcelona, or that she had moved back there this past year.

we connected on facebook & arranged to meet when i was in the city, which unfolded from a lunch into a full afternoon of laughter, story swapping, and critter chat. we barely knew each other, had only met that once over a decade ago, & yet through mutual friendships & interests turned out to have a fantastic time together—over 6,000 miles from where our paths originally crossed.

my second chance encounter also took place in barcelona, with a lovely lady i am now happy to call a friend, fatima.

one of my last days in fez, moroccco i got a message on instagram from fatima. she said that she had been having a conversation with her ex about wanting to explore morocco but that she was hesitant to travel there as a woman alone. turns out that he is from martha’s vineyard & that he follows my blog. he told her there was an islander there now & gave her my instagram information to contact me.

we chatted for a while & i told her that i had actually just booked a flight to leave the beautiful but brutal country in the following couple days. we talked more about safety, culture, hostels, & traveling throughout the country. she mentioned off hand how easy it was for her to hop down from spain, where she was currently living. where in spain? i asked, mentioning how i would be in barcelona the following week to catch my flight to kenya. yep. she was in the exact city i was going to shorty.

i was only there for 3 nights but i set one aside for us to meet and chat. turns out she has been living on martha’s vineyard year round for the past 7 years, & considers it her second home from her native brazil. she had been in barcelona for about two months for a coding course.

we went out to a fantastic dinner at a restaurant she had been curious to try but wanted to enjoy with company. now, typically i’m rather shy & an introvert. i’m not a huge fan of first dates, platonic, romantic, or otherwise. i enjoy my own company above nearly all else & was feeling particularly drained & worn down, plus was fighting off a cold. on top of it all, i had nothing remotely nice to wear.

when i travel though, i tend to become somebody else entirely. traveling alone really pushes me out of my shell & forces me to connect with people. i shy away from my introverted tendencies and find myself opening up to new experiences and opportunities i would likely avoid or blow off back home.

i am so incredibly glad that i felt such a strong connection & calling to meet up with fatima. our reservation was at 730 & i ended up back home after midnight. the entire evening was packed with amazing conversation, laughter, and a shocking amount of similarities. by the time we walked out of the restaurant to go to a roof deck with some of the best views of the barcelona skyline, she felt like a close friend.

while she’s moving to seattle after wrapping up her course in spain, i have no doubt we will see each other again back on the island. again, here i was meeting someone nearly 6,000 miles away from where we had shared a small island and community together for years. the odds of it all astonished me, as did the power of connectivity available through social media, & my decision to start this blog.

the final recent connection was entirely organic, no mutual friends or blogging involved.

i was sitting in the airport in casablanca, morocco, where my flights from barcelona to nairobi connected. i’ve spent a fair amount of time in airports around the world, big & small, & this one really takes the cake for the biggest shithole. hundreds of people were crammed into a small awkward basement room that smelled like stale cigarette smoke (despite the no smoking signs people in morocco often smoke inside…everything) and was severely lacking in seating. people lined the stairs and slumped against the walls, collapsing into the dirty floor. i typically have no problem plopping onto the ground but this was too gross for me, even by my fairly low standards.

i managed to find a chair at the very front of the room near the doors where you walk out to buses that bring you to your plane on the tarmac. i was chatting with another woman sitting nearby when i saw a man carrying his young son, fumbling with his bags, and talking to one of the people are the airline desk. he seemed rather stressed & i offered him my seat. i moved my bags and stood as the other woman & i continued talking, & included him in our conversation.

he explained that he & his very pregnant wife had landed a few days ago. she fainted and was taken to the hospital but since he was without a visa (as is required if you have a kenyan passport) he had been locked inside the airport for three days, unable to see or speak to her. it was his understanding that she had given birth to their second child but he had no further information, not even the sex of their baby.

despite his situation he was bright & lovely, & when i told him about my travel plans he began telling me about his childhood growing up in rural kenya—passing lions on his walk to school, and standing guard over the family’s animals at night.

he also explained that he had been repeatedly assured his wife would be on this plane back to nairobi with their newborn. he was bursting with excitement to see them both, & meet his new child. sleeping in his arms was miles, an adorable three year old boy who wanted nothing more than to be nestled in his father’s arms, sleeping.

as they began boarding our flight, i offered to help him with his bags, and we walked out to the shuttle bus together. we ended up sitting nearby but not directly next to each other. i started zoning out and he began chatting with a woman who was closer to him. i overheard him repeating some of the same snippets of his story that i knew, & i fidgeted with my phone, desperately trying to get a message out to my family that i had made my connection over the shitty wifi.

the shuttle bus was crammed & when it released us onto the tarmac it was an absolute cluster. never before have i experienced people quite so aggressively trying to get on board transportation—honestly rush hour on the subway in nyc seemed docile in comparison. we were only a few people apart when i heard him say to the woman from the shuttle “you farm too? that’s what she’s here to do!” he gestured over the crowd to me. i shuffled my way closer to her & she asked about what i was going to be doing, “permaculture, on a farm south of kisumu.” typically the word “permaculture” is either met with glazed eyes and questions, or acknowledgement and commonality. “that’s what i do, i’m an urban farmer in detroit.”

no. fucking. shit. i had already caught a glimpse of her kenyan passport on the shuttle bus so i knew she was from there but honestly, what were the odds of us bumping into each other? in casablanca, an american farmer coming to study permaculture in kenya, & a kenyan farmer who had put down roots in detroit.

she asked about the name of the farm & didn’t recognize it but said she wanted to check it out. she offered her information to me, and i passed her my phone as we both got jostled by the crowd. “we should stay in touch, i’d like to hear more about what you end up doing & where,” she said. i nearly had to yell over the crowd, which was good because it made me seem like it as just trying to communicate over noise, not exploding with excitement.

she wrote down her name & email & we were quickly separated in the rush. after i got onto the plane & put my bags up, i ran into her on my way to the bathroom. “where are you sitting?” i asked, “29A,” she replied. “i’m 29B!!” i practically squealed, and she lit up. we agreed that we couldn’t wait to talk.

& talk we did. the flight was delayed by over an hour leaving casablanca (our friend with miles had to deplane because his wife & newborn never made it, without any explanation, despite them continuously assuring him they would be there) and was then over 10 hours. it was a red eye but we barely slept a wink.

she told me about her experiences as a black farmer in detroit, about her & her husband’s struggles to buy vacant lots near their house despite their multiple attempts, comprehensive plans to turn them into productive farming plots, & the land being well within their means (as most people know, property in detroit is unfathomably cheap. she said her mother-in-law bought a house in decent condition for $300). “you might have an easier time if you tried though,” she remarked, speaking to my skin color. she explained how the city either wants to sell entire blocks all together to developers, or how they’re even more willing to sell to young white urban farmers than black ones. despite not being surprised, i asked lots of questions about the politics of the city and their issues with abandoned land, all of which she answered with patience.

she sits on a board for food in the city, the name of which i now cannot remember, is a forager in the city (yes, forager. in the city.) and chef who does pop-up locally grown & foraged foods. she is working on a documentary looking at her journey as an urban farmer in detroit, her connections to kenya, and her mission to engage more black folks in earth work.

“slavery has left a stigma when it comes to black people working the land,” she said, something she seeks to change through empowerment, education, and community engagement. she brings kenyan seeds back to detroit & introduces african americans there to african foods they may have never heard of, looking to stretch the definitions of black food beyond collard greens & beans to various root vegetables & greens from her homeland. when she come home she brings seeds native to the north central US to share with her family, in this way building connections between her two homes.

we talked about loss, each of us having suffered devastating losses in the past year (mine, my little brother, hers is not mine to share). she told me that part of her reason for coming home was to heal, to reconnect, & more specifically, to seek out some elders she has never met & to try to connect with some of their/her ancestral knowledge.

she said sometimes her family gives her shit, for being college educated, for being so incredibly smart (she was the highest achieving girl in her grade in kenya and was given a scholarship to a college-prep school in south africa before going to michigan for undergrad) and for choosing to farm & homestead.

“but i think that this work is sacred & important, & that it deserves some of the brightest minds to be devoted to it,” she expressed. i told her i understood some of what that feels like, having also graduated at the top of my class with my family’s law-school dreams riding on my coattails. “that is why this movement has us,” she concluded, as chills ran down my arms.

i shared my book with her (unbowed: a memoir, by wangari maathai) and she shared clips of her upcoming film with me. she jokingly (but somewhat seriously) encouraged me to come to detroit. i jokingly, but quite seriously, replied that detroit doesn’t need anymore white middle class wanna-be urban farms. “plus, i did four winters in vermont,” i told her, “& i’m done with that shit.”

we talked about witchy things, about communing with plants, about using sacred plant medicines to connect with ourselves & the greater universe. we talked about our dreams, our ideas, our beliefs, the things that shaped us & put us on this path, the things that stood in our way, the things we had overcome, the things we still had to overcome, the ways in which we have grown, learned, & triumphed.

by the time we got off the plane, she felt like an old friend. so much of her & all she taught & gave me has stuck thick to my bones. i think about her often, & hope she has found some of the healing, growth, ancestral knowledge, and both earthly & spiritual connections she was seeking. i very much so look forward to visiting her farm in detroit sometime this year.

we both agreed that we felt brought together for some important reasons, & as i will explain in a later blog post, for me some of those reasons have already shone through.

the universe works in mysterious ways, ways that sometimes become clear quickly, and other times take a long time & intense reflection to find. almost always though, if you listen and look with an open and loving mind & heart, you can find the ways in which magic has happened with, for, through, & in you.

my many travel connections have given me so much love, knowledge, support, & light. the friendships i have forged along the way continue to shape and carry me every day. so to the 150 people & counting who have bumped into my body on these travels during this lifetime (& possibly in many others) thank you. for all you have given & continue to give me. my life, heart, soul, & mind are better for knowing you, & my travels are certainly more colorful, interesting, & full of laughter for it too.

i’ll be the first to admit, i don’t really know what i’m doing. i have very strong intuition & am extremely sensitive to energies, & i receiving information from the universe, animals, & objects in various ways.

i call it my “witchy shit” but i don’t identify it to any particular type of witchy craft or worship. it is self designed, & largely through exploration, experimenting, questioning, feeling, & making mistakes.

what on safari in maasai mara i found these bones. i didn’t not receive a clear message one way or another but generally felt good about taking them, with intentions to worship them.

the bones i took from maasai mara

at the time, in the back of my heart, i felt hesitation. i didn’t feel distinctly wrong taking them though, & was afraid i would later regret not having their magic.

& i will admit, i see now that i made a mistake.

as i’ve been packing up to leave kenya & return to the US (for the time being) i have felt anxiety about brining these bones home. something felt wrong about removing them from their native home here in kenya. something about them felt wild & connected to the soil here.

i was particularly anxious about having them taken by customs. i feared they would end up in the trash, locked up somewhere, or just generally disconnected from a natural home or resting place.

so like i do when i am seeking answers, i sat with them. next to my window, on the floor. i closed my eyes & connected to their energy. i held them in my hands & listened. i waited for images & feelings to come to mind.

the longest bone felt sticky but not tangibly, as if when my hands slid over the dry bone i could still feel the fat stuck to it. i saw blood & muscle & tissues still attached when i closed my eyes & held it. it felt antsy, unwelcoming, & raw. it did not feel like it had been released.

i laid down & placed it on my chest. i started feeling pressure, inability to breathe, & discomfort to the point where i removed it from my body & onto the floor next to me 3 times during my meditation.

i apologized. i asked what i could do. i had already removed it miles from its home in the savannah to the city. i saw an image of the bone being buried.

i promised that in the morning i would bury it outside, by hand, in the ground by our apartment.

i picked up the next piece, the jagged vertebrae.

this piece didn’t give me clear answers, we danced back & forth feeling each other out. i wasn’t feeling particularly strong negative or positive energy. rubbed & held & looked at it & asked. i didn’t receive a loud answer.

i laid it on my chest & began to meditate. some similar feelings of pressure & inability to breathe settled in. not nearly as intense, but noticeable. i did not want it lying on me. when i removed it, i immediately breathed deeply & sighed.

i asked for forgiveness & what i could do to honor it. i saw it being buried beside the other bone in the ground.

the last little piece & i had a wonderful exchange. i felt excitement, a jumpy, positive energy. when i placed it on my chest i felt lightness. my breathe eased. the energy i received was welcoming. an invitation.

it even told me how it would like to be transported, in the right front hip pocket of my large pack. unwrapped. alone.

i asked how it would feel if customs took it from me. if it ended up in the trash, incinerated, or locked away in some facility. i felt a shrugging, & return to its happy energy. it didn’t seem to be worried about any of that.

so, i don’t “formally” know what any of this means. i did some reading online about bone blessings & worship but felt i had to learn this on my own. i feel confident i am doing what these spirits want & have asked for. i look forward to working with my excitable little identifiable bone chunk. i imagine it is from a small impala but am unsure.

i am grateful to these bones for teaching me. to my soul for listening. to my energy for connecting. to the spirits for talking. to the mess & glory of forever asking, receiving, & trusting myself & what i feel. to the universe for showing me. to my intuition for guiding me. to my witchy shit for unfolding & exploring with me.

holy tits CHRISTMAS.

so as i’ve said before i begrudgingly have to admit that munich does christmas better than nyc. i’m sorry. i tried to stay loyal to my original & biggest christmas city love but i just couldn’t.

munich crushes the christmas game.

the window displays of 5th ave, the tree & skating rink at rockefeller center, & the rockettes (my best friends dad has dubbed me “rockkat”) will always have my heart. but here’s why this die hard fan has switched city teams.

the vibes in munich are smaller, older, & a lot more quaint. parts of munich can certainly rival the store status of 5th ave (rolex is next door to tiffany’s, & across the way is longchamp) but it’s a lot more humble in its presentation. the displays don’t have the same slick pizzazz, & instead embody that timeless european character.

think warm twinkly lights, wooden toys, & old fashion santa’s instead of modern twists on christmas favorites. they just stick to the classics.

if this is your kind of christmas do yourself a favor & book your ticket for next year right meow.

christmas markets are a christmas lovers wet dream. aka, mine. what happens when you combine old european charm, the booths of a county fair, the excitement of a street fair, the quality of an artisans fair, & traditional christmas spirit? german christmas markets.

these are not just for shopping, enjoying displays, eating food, having a warm drink, going for a skate, mixing with friends, people watching, or wandering around aisles of small vendors bursting at the seams decorations, presents, & handmade wears. they’re for any and/or all of the above.

i think what i loved the most about them was the energy. the focus was not even really on the shopping, although window shopping & making inquiries of the vendors was welcome. it was on each other. the friends you were with, the people you met, or just basking in the delicious, warm glow of love & joy oozing down all the streets.

god damn oozing i tell you.

nyc has a consumerist feeling to it, everything is an advertisement or enticement. it remains fast paced, & while there may be a tinge more communality in the air, it’s still marching to the frantic beat of its own drum.

munich felt like it was just purely about the christmas spirit. about slowing down. about connecting. instead of grabbing a drink at the local pub, folks gathered at the the squares to stand together at the raised tables & warm their hands around their ceramic mugs, teeming with glühwein (see below for description). people mingled, laughed, & sipped slowly. there was nowhere to rush off to, no shopping to check off, nowhere else that they needed to be.

happy germans at a typical christmas market bar.

to me, this is what christmas is all about. i am not a religious person, nor do i believe in consumerism, what i love about the holiday is the connectivity, the joy & excitement, the belief that all things are possible when you have community & hope. i love being reminded of the ways children perceive things, with awe and magic.

if you consume alcohol, the drinks alone are worth going for, & germany is certainly more than just beer. since i was on a tight budget & don’t consume much alcohol the only drink i tried was feuerzangenbowle, which is basically glühwein with an extra twist.

glühwein is a mulled wine with spices that is served hot, & from what i gathered is the most popular christmas market drink. feuerzangenbowle is glühwein plus rum & sugar, they fill the mug with glühwein, put a piece of metal with holes or slats in it over the mug and place sugar cubes on top, douse them in rum, & light the whole thing on fire. the sugar cubes then melt into the drink.

feuerzangenbowle, i may not have been able to pronounce if but i had no trouble getting it down the hatch.

let me tell you, it is fucking delicious, & really packs a punch.

there are endless other blog posts available about the other types of christmas market drinks so i won’t bother focusing on them, especially since i didn’t try any more. i was hoping to try to german equivalent of eggnog (eierlikör) but ran out of time, money, & alcohol tolerance.

speaking of running out of money, the christmas markets are fantastic if you’re on a tight budget. obviously wandering around them is free, and there are nearly endless markets. one small loop from my hostel would take me through 4-5 different markets, varying in size and content. two were largely food and drinks vendors, one was in their year round food market viktaulienmarkt, & then my favorite of course was münchner christkindlmarkt, which was primarily shopping with a good sprinkling of food & drink vendors scattered throughout & then down the street.

münchner christkindlmarkt

typical christmas market booth ft all sorts of glorious holiday goodies.

vendor at the viktualienmarkt, a year round food market.

additionally i explored a medieval themed one, & a gay christmas market called “pink christmas.” i use the word gay there very intentionally because although it was supposed to represent the queer community it was largely geared towards gay men, including a spattering of drag queens. the market was funky and fun but not necessarily my preferred flavor of gayness. nonetheless, it managed to combine two of my absolute favorite things: homosexuality & christmas. three cheers for munich.

a very special kind of christmas is available at the pink christmas market.

food at the markets is cheap & its take away so it’s convenient, fast, & very few places even had tip jars out so you save there as well. you can grab any sort of sausage on a bun or plate for €5-7, a big bucket of fries (pommes frites) for €3, kartoffelpuffer (latkes) for €4, a big bowl of kraut & spaetzle for €5, & drinks are around €4,50-6. compared to most restaurants or even quick bite places, this is a good deal.

currywurst with kraut

some phenomenal marshmallow things & other delicious sweets available for €1-3.

also check out my other blog post about shit munich does right, which speaks to the environmental highlights of the christmas markets that i absolutely loved—from recycled paper and wood packing & utensils to a mug deposit program, here. that blog post also covers the christmas tram but no christmas market post would be complete without a mention of it.

one of the highlights of my trip was also budget friendly, & that was the christmas tram ride. munich takes one of their trams, decorates it in christmas decorations, plays christmas carols & serves drinks & snacks on board, and takes you around the parts of the city that are decorated for christmas. the trams departs and arrives back to sendlinger tor, which conveniently sat smack dab in the middle of my typical market route. the ride lasts around 30 min & only costs €2. it is a holly jolly time, & also a great way to check out the city without adding any more blisters to your already tired feet. more information is available here.

decorations aboard the christmas tram

ticket to cheer & joy

in short, it’s hard to beat the amount of cheer, the available festivities, & the price. if you’re looking for a christmas celebration getaway, i would certainly recommend scouting out options to munich. the fact it snowed a couple of the days i was there only added to the magic of the whole experience.

some logistics & recommendations

i flew into a small airport about 2hrs outside of munich called memmingen which was simply the absolute cheapest option for me to fly anywhere from fez, morocco (my ticket was only $15). there is a bus that departs hourly directly from out front of the terminal & brings you to HBF (the central bus station in munich) for i think €16 (i don’t exactly remember). the bus line i took is call allgäu express, flexibus departs from downtown memmingen so you have to take another bus or shuttle there then switch. there are signs all over the airport advertising this service, & the info kiosk is right next to the doors to leave the airport.

if you’re looking for a centrally located & reasonably priced hostel, i had a great time at wombat hostel munich. i paid $26/night, breakfast buffet was lackluster & i opted out but was only €4,50, the rooms were clean with en suite bathrooms, common areas were beautiful, there’s a bar downstairs if you’re into that, & the location cannot be beat. it’s also right across from the main train/bus station which made arrival & departure an absolute breeze. i booked through hostelworld but their website is here.