Life Unraveled

I have been on the road for a month as of today and it is time to break the silence. A few highlights: I walked 220 miles in 2 weeks. I did so without much prior knowledge of the Camino de Santiago, the historic trail that runs across northern Spain. I thought I had the right shoes for such a trek, but the opposite soon became apparent. I got blisters. Lots and lots of painful blisters, mainly on my left foot. It was not always fun, and very often it was tiring, but it never failed to be interesting or thought-provoking, and I can say with certainty that I am glad to have had such an experience and would not have had it any other way. I slept in rooms with as many as 12 other people, even resting for a night in a dark, ominous cave that became known as "The Death Chamber". I ate bread. Lots and lots of delicious European bread, sometimes crusty, occasionally dense, and always shoved down my throat at record pace. I fell in love with bocadillos, the Spanish sandwiche

Leaving places has become a bit of a standard for me throughout my adulthood.  Part of the fun (if it can be called that) of growing older is noticing the patterns of behavior that wind through the colorful threads of story that make up life as we know it.  For me, moving places and then leaving at a certain point is one of them.  Doing so on a whim, or with trust, or with whatever you choose to call it, is another.  Wringing all the juice out of each spot along the way and then setting sail for another land, another port of call, a new spot on the map: been there, done that.   It's a thing for me I suppose, and I would say I am as comfortable doing it as anyone else I know.  Dare I also say, I may have even gotten pretty good at it. As I prepare to leave Hawaii in the morning, I can see how this pattern, this restless thread, has run through my life since before I can remember.  I have always had the wanderlust.  I never used to know what it was called.  Now I know.  I have been

Portland is my kind of city. To start, it isn't just bike-friendly. Oh no--it has something approaching bike worship going on. The residents of this cozy little part of the Northwestern US take great pride in motoring around sans motor, with bike lanes in every direction and a surplus of signage (a la Amsterdam) directing you here and there on your two wheels. There is even a cycle path alongside a major freeway: Why should gas-guzzlers be the only ones able to escape the city life and head to the mountains on a whim? But truly, escaping is not something top of mind for Portland's inhabitants. There is a palpable sense of enjoyment permeating the air, a Portlandia joie de vivre if you will, that is easy to acknowledge and even easier to get swept up in. Life here is quirky and simple and exactly what Portlanders want. You know this not because everyone is rushing in with glowing testimonials, but because they actually don't have to say a word. The smiles, the eye c

I have not officially gone on record with any New Year's resolutions this year.  That itself is something of a first--I typically love to start fresh, wipe the slate clean and plot a new course no matter what area of my life I feel needs some sprucing up--but I just cannot come up with anything in particular for 2014.  Focusing on one little aspect of daily existence doesn't seem enough.  Instead, I have been been examining what it is that I am committed to in my life.  What do I spend my time doing every day?  Are those commitments making me happy?  Am I making time for things that lift me up or am I frowningly trudging through too many lost minutes, days, and months?  In taking on this little science project, I have been trying to be as honest with myself as I possibly can.  That is no easy task.  I imagine nobody wants to admit that they don't particularly care about what they are doing for a living, or that they seem to be repeating past lessons over and over again that