My newest endeavors

Well, I have been having so much trouble in life the last few months, and it always comes back down to the same overarching topic -- am I putting my energy into my calling? Which turns into a thousand tiny voices asking a thousand tiny questions about whether I'm fulfilling this and that and doing the right thing and offering help when someone is hurt and actively trying to shake people out of their comfort levels and doing art and writing enough and listening and asking questions and teaching and not being selfish and loving myself and holding myself to high standards and no basing my standards on anyone but myself and using my mind and not letting myself rot and not causing suffering and forgiving others for hurting me and thinking things through and being spontaneous and

and

I've been so incredibly self critical. I was already trying to refresh myself from a lot of pain last summer, and it just didn't work, it just turned into more problems and weird situations that I swear other people don't run into. Last summer, when I was going to go to the Ocean and give it prayers and positive energy and meet others doing the same...I didn't even make it off the West coast. I mean, I got as far as Reno NV. I got a tattoo in Truckee. I ended up getting massively side-tracked, losing my money on helping someone out of gas drive back to Oregon, and I ended up back in Eugene, at something resembling the Manson house meets a 60s commune meets West coast suburbia. I learned a lot. Does anyone want to hear my tale of last Summer? It's a good one... maybe next time.

But back to my present moment. Just, trust that I got a taste of hell. Not really the worst hell possible, but a version of it, like a fucked up Alice in Wonderland bad dream, where difficult things keep happening faster than a person can make them go away, like megatons of dirt collapsing on little you with a little shovel, as you pathetically try to throw it off your new shiny garden. Because, honestly, I was *really* inspired about life in my own way as usual, and I wanted to do something really collaborative this time, so we (my room mate, my brother, my ex boyfriend and I) all decided to rent a shit hole commercial/residential building that needed work but could double as a home/art studio. And it didn't work. Literally, it didn't have working electricity (well, it had an outlet) and no hot water. So I spent part of winter very cold, writing term papers in two coats all night and desperately searching craigslist for a better place.

And this is a much better place. I love our new home. But moving twice in a month is no joke. And other things happened, more personal -- an end to a relationship, an end to a pregnancy, a total wave of exhaustion came over me so that I was grateful for school for just giving me a place to go everyday and tune out the fact that humanity is fucked.

So, in a desperate attempt to find some sane advice in a mad world, I wrote a four-page letter to Mumia Abu-Jamal, political prisoner who has been on death row for the past 30 years (check out his sunday series on prisonradio, btw). Basically, it was a self-lesson on refocusing my energy from my own insides to a person who has more pain than I do, and I decided, if he writes back, I need to believe every word he says.

Well, he did. I'd like to quote him, because this is the advice that every person on this planet needs to hear and embrace, and it is coming straight from the source. Imagine maintaining hope in a (r)evolution while waiting to be executed by the state. Imagine.

"I tell you this, life is far too short to waste your time doing something that doesn't move you profoundly. Do what you love and it won't seem like work; it's like play. So, listen to your Spirit. All wisdom resides there!"

And this is why I am not really allowed to complain anymore. My recent cynicism, which is really more a sadness that life is surprisingly un-beautiful sometimes, will go away as this Oregon rain goes away: slowly. But it's true, as long as I'm here, I need to listen to my heart and do what moves me.

emails to mamamama

hey guys, can't write much because i just wrote to my mom, enough for a day. but to let everyone know, i'm fine. my journey is taking its own course because i'm open to whatever it is my heart wants...and i'll tell you all allllllll about it soon <3 here's a summation, in brief, of my current purpose in life...
*~*begin email***

hi mama... haha, well, i think i don't want to go to san francisco anymore-- i realized a lot about what i'm supposed to be doing right now, and it's four things-- first, i need to stabilize my mind and be happy being alive, which happened within the first few days of going away. i realized that this is just a journey that will develop on its own once i talked to a few people and became open to different possibilities, like, not biking ALLLL the way and spending time with people instead, just appreciating being open and not planning neurotically and stuff like that. so Mikee put my bike in his car and he'll keep it until i'm back. second, i want to be in DC again because i owe it to my friends to let them know that not all areas operate according to money and power...and i have a real need to talk to people who already know and trust me, and help them realize that they need to spend their time and life concentrating on art and helping each other...and not giving a shit about money and social constructs. i realized i have a really strong message and i know it's true, and so i need to at least give a few people a chance to hear me, and then do whatever they want with what i tell them. it sounds kinda crazy, i guess, but that's one of my driving forces, because after this trip, i'll only go back to DC to see you and Tato and Katya if you move back. So, that's the third thing-- i feel like i want to be there and be available to help in case anything happens with the renters or whatever. Because i wouldn't have anything i have (including life) if it weren't for you guys, and if there ends up being something i can do to help then i'd love to. Finally, i don't know if i'll be able to get to the gulf coast or not (I still want to, but who knows), but i feel a need to talk to people there and look at the ocean because it's dying.

i'm writing a lot but haven't had much of a chance to post things online...but i feel really inspired and it's because i'm following my heart, and the only thing dictating what i do is my own need for finding where help or inspiration is needed. i realize i have a lot of power to give love and ideas, and it's funny that the moment i have freedom from rational obligations i want to just awaken people to love the earth. anyway, i'm happy that this part of me never seems to die, it just gets quiet while i'm participating in society. i know that someday, when school is over and i manage to acquire land and stuff like that i'll be able to live like this without any worry over money or responsibilities to the fucked up system, but for now it's still just a free time thing. thanks mama! talk to you soon :))))

alya

**end email~~

Florence, OR

(I'm going to upload pictures and video when I get a chance -- it is so fucking beautiful, words aren't even right for it, but my Acer notebook is too slow for fancy visuals, and I'm way too impatient.) So here we go...
The only general comment I can think of about being alone right now is that it is the most painful experience in the world. But the pain of it stems directly from love, and that's why it's necessary. What a drastic swing to go from being with others, living with others, talking to friends, making mutual plans, to disappearing away from the network and retreating into the quiet heart and noisy mind What a trip... it's like, GAAHGG, why am I doing this? And when I sit with it (or bike with it), listening to some music and letting my thoughts work themselves out however they want to, suddenly I start crying, hating it, feeling it knot my stomach -- alone -- because it makes me love people so much. All my people, the shining lights and mirrors that help me see the world and myself. They give me things, I keept thinking. All these things because love likes to leave trails of evidence wherever it is summoned -- little things that might be absurd and made of plastic, or beautiful and made of blessed crystals, or used and worn or new and expensive. I am realizing that everything in my life has been a gift, and I don't know why I am so blessed. Well, there have been all these periods where I was so trapped in stress and pain I was doing to myself that the profoundness of others only reached me here and there. It happens, I guess. Those periods always made me wonder if I'd pull back out into this open place of love for all people, and here I am, so I guess I always have. But it takes this, for me -- forcing myself into a place of solitude where all I hear reverberating inside of me are echoes of everybody's love for me. It wakes me up, like, suddenly, and I want to get out of bed and run downstairs and make sure everyone is alive and safe and that they know that without them I'd be a bag of bones, cold blood, and a dead spirit. When you love, it becomes really more important than anything that they know how much you love them. I sent my mom and dad a text today telling them -- really -- this is how how love works for me, and I don't know if it's the same for everyone.
Generally, I have these people in my life who I interact with and talk to and plan things around, which is usual, but then people notice me maneuvering away from them or dipping out early to do things, oh, or getting anxious around them if I've spent say more than 8 hours straight with them. And usually I associate that with a need for solitude, "to work on a project"...usually my tag line these days is that I really need to organize my poetry, but it's so much deeper than that. What I need to start saying is that the only way I will appreciate them fully is if I can sit by myself and think their face and voice and humor over for a few hours, and my goal is to appreciate them fully. I mean, appreciate you fully. You know? You, the person X who touched my life. I want to think about it, and I want to feel it, because that pain makes me understand the gift of life.
I can be more extreme about it than that, too, if ya want. I have been rolling the idea of death around in my head since I was a teenager, because when I was going through my thing I was utterly suicidal, and in order to work the whole way through that one, had to start taking mental notes on what it meant to die. Coming out of that black hole was shocking because the emotion I experienced when I did was on the polar opposite end of the feelings spectrum. Apparently, the same human organism can almost take a knife to it's own existence, and then fall to the ground in love with every daddy longlegs and broken vase, all in a day, weirdly. The emotional world is always so much vaster than I think it is, thankfully. I get stuck in the motions and my feelings become tired, this beige hotel wallpaper, and I wonder what all the fuss is about. And then, it changes. I think of all the places on Earth and how different they all are from each other, and how different they are from themselves day to day, I mean -- imagine...where have you been before, like a crazy ass theme park full of heat and drunk crowds and rollercoasters and colorful, screaming children, picking apart your own idea of "fun" because this can't possibly be it, and yet it is fun and there you are...and then put that next to a quiet winter night, sitting alone in an attic lit with two candles, looking through old childhood photographs and wondering if you'd ever get to do it again (be a child) with all the same cast and crew. I mean, put the rainforests of South America next to a Baltimore crackhouse, or an Art gallery next to the Alaskan wilderness. And we've got all those world. I think the emotional world is like that, just as vast. When we start complaining that we've seen it all and it's all the same, probably it just means it's time for a three day hike in the woods. Anyway, this biking is a good call, right? Sometimes I have no idea why I need to do something until I do it, and my explanations become these weird fucking attempts to apply logic to my heart, like, "Oh, you know, I'm an adrenaline addict and I need to visit these friends," but this time is for my soul, and I plan to max it out. Shit. God I love it when I remember to love.
Let me ground myself, and anyone reading this, because I have a tendency to let go of points. They're pretty meaningless because the point is to share, but without a thread, the sharing turns into jumbled gobbledeegook. My thread is simple; it's where I am, what's happening around me, and how I'm doing on my journey. So you know how I'm doing, but you don't know what's up. As you may have seen in the video, I almost made it to Florence last night, even after detouring to check out a town five miles north. I biked around 70 miles -- too much for the first day. I was supposed to meet with my friends Sqrl and Re (hippies, can you tell?), but my phone was being a Bad Phone and so I just biked and biked and finally couldn't anymore. At 1:30am I found a spot in the woods by some abandoned tracks, and I fell asleep, happily, and clutching pepper spray. Just saying, fearlessness (by my own definitions of fear and humans) only exists in drug heads and liars. I have so many fears, and I am so happy I do. They are the right hand of my intuition and tell me what to do, and if they cause pain they only do it because they love me.
Sqrl did meet with me today and we walked around the beaches with his dog Stormy, and collected shells and talked about Eugene, festivals, love, our mutual friends.
At first I thought it would be weird to see someone because it would be, like, "cheating", you know? Like, I am on this spirit quest and must go through my emotions until I can accept them. But, look, bullshit. I think he got a lot of really great energy from me because I was SO excited to share my mind -- he was the focus of all of my accumulated endorphines, and I'm glad because he is a good guy who gives a lot away all the time. Interesting thing I took from him, actually -- his primary life philosophy is that you get back 10X whatever you give away, and he said, "literally", like with money, too. So he paid off his friend's fines today, and he got me a motel room for tonight so I could keep taking a break, and he isn't blue-blooded rich or anything because this is starting to sound like he is, he's just a great investor on a spiritual path. He is funny -- he has this all these great tattoos, long messy hair, really fucked up glasses that only a complete eccentric would wear. Let me think... strange eyes, kind of green. Here's a good one-- Sqrl has really bad posture in an endearing way, but his back is nice and it seems like in another lifetime he could be a dancer if he wanted. He said he didn't like being tall so he developed bad posture to be shorter. Ain't empathy a bitch sometimes. But his frequency is kind of over my head, and I think I'd need a few weeks of solid conversation with him to really understand a thing about how he operates. Which, is great, because he said that he and Re would be traveling down the coast this next week, and they wanted to keep me company for a day or two, if I needed it. So maybe I'll have some time to dig deeper.
Well, I think this is more than enough for now. I should go take care of myself -- take a hot shower and eat some food, since tomorrow I will be back on the road. Going south!

Reggae on the Mountain

I'm back from the reggae festival, and the one picture really worth sharing is of this amazing old growth tree growing on top of the mountain where this festival happens. The people who own the land are total nature lovers who promote off-the-grid living and permaculture, and they guard some very special trees on the mountain. Isn't that something?

Anyway, I'm now officially in planning mode. I'll leave in just a few days. I need to make sure my bike is A-OK because 700 miles is a long way to go on a non-operational bike. I am inspired by a conversation I had at the jam with a guy who has been spending the last 14 years of his life on a bike-- traveling, going to festivals, sleeping in tents, and sometimes situating himself in a town for a bit to work (and rest, I assume). What a great character! I told him about my mini adventures of the past and hopeful future, and he was really appreciative and warm even though I felt kind of silly talking about a bike trip with someone who keeps all his belongings on the back of his bike. It's a whole nother level that I just can't even fathom.

It was validating. We talked about the dangers involved, and the number one is obviously cars, but we also covered the fun topic of women traveling alone. I have bones to pick here, all the time, and this new friend joined me in picking at them. He said he rarely, unfortunately, hears stories from women who actually went on their dream adventures, though he sometimes asks female bikers if they ever consider traveling by bicycle. He said that usually they have some desire, but one of the consistent remarks is that they lack the confidence to actually do it. Dude even read a book written by a woman who decided to go for it, and then was warned and warned by everyone, made to feel insecure, even told to take taxis through cities she didn't know well in order to avoid dangerous people.

Trevor (I remembered his name! Victory!) talked about the confidence and independence required to get something/anything started, and how devastating it is to have person after person shut it down -- it adds a level of insecurity. I just had to throw this on the table because I know it so well. Luckily I have supportive friends and family, but the truth is, the most common comment I've gotten is "travel with a guy friend, don't go alone." I mean, right, to which I smile and say, "yeah, maybe." And of course, it would be really fun to do this with a guy or girl friend, but if that isn't available it isn't a requirement. And not everyone is equally pack-oriented. I like doing things by myself, and I can't help it. Of course I'm very, very aware of the dangers involved, which basically consist of badguys and cars, and I am already meditating on the fears I will be confronting in the near future. I am grateful that I'll have a chance to work through some of them and get in touch with my own instincts on what is safe.

So, thank you Trevor for the props. I also just wanted to post the poem I performed at Tayberry, and eventually I'll get my other environment-related stuff up. This one does potentially use a melody (hence 'song', hence all the rhymes) but that would need to be worked on a lot before I threw i up anyplace public. Much love to everyone, and thanks for reading.

Earth Song
Dedicated to Tayberry Jam 2010

May I say only as much as I’m brave enough to sing
may I say only what’s right or may I say not a thing
the hippies had it right when they said
if you don’t live for freedom, you might as well be dead.

But as much as freedom solves it also poses a question
what good is our freedom if we use it for destruction?
Hold me to my words until I taste them
watch me spend my dollars and remind me not to waste them
I wanted freedom enough to have it stitched into my skin
but I don’t deserve to fly if I can’t operate my wings.

Do we feel free yet, or just proud of what we possess
do we know yet, that freedom comes by taking less?
A rocket into space won’t save our little lives of little worth
if we forget how to sing with our own mother Earth.

Because under the pavement, she is breathing
and with every breath her lungs fill with life
and break apart the concrete as though it were sand
Her oceans become water hands flowing through those cracks
rebuilding our cities with flowers
and redefining our lines and angles with delicate vines and tangles

there is a thought in every tree
the grasses whisper
nature sees

I felt her eyes; they followed me
as I wandered quietly.
The presence of her frightened me.

Then I heard-- what could it be?
I thought I heard her whispering
and I stopped, frozen, listening.
There was a voice that spoke to me:

My children have abandoned me
they fear me now
they murder me
They wish to rid themselves of me

I heard the pain, the suffering,
then overwhelming, heavy grief
with the silence that ensued.

"Mother, tell me what to do--
Protect me please, I'll care for you.
I want to be your child, too.
I don't want to abandon you..."

But only silence-- no reply.
Just wind, just wind, or did she sigh?
there is a thought in every tree
the grasses whisper,
nature sees


One day my lungs will fill with earth
and only flowers will grow from my mouth
May I practice for that day by breathing out
sweet green songs for mother Earth’s rising up.

May my words be deeper than their form
may my words be deeper than their form
may I say no more than I’m brave enough to sing,
may I sing ‘till I can sing no more.

An Essay About Planning, and, a Plan

I'm realizing, not for the first time, that I am a terrible trip planner. It feels like this has something to do with being obnoxiously unpunctual, too impatient to stand in lines, wanting to create perfect harmony in my life here before I leave for somewhere else (HAH! Good luck, Xandra), maybe my tendency to be distracted by every lovely person who I have a conversation with. But don't worry, folks, somehow intention is strong enough to even get a ball of craziness like me rolling.

But it's interesting to think about. I've spent a good part of the last year talking with my brother, who is diagnosed with schizophrenia, but is also amazingly articulate and even logical. To him, life, it seems, just happens, and he is always swept with the strongest nearby current, and ends up briefly washed onto the shore of other people's dreams and decisions. He was catatonic for several months, and he would have starved to death had it not been for people around him deciding to feed him. I am at a different extreme, usually, in which I dream up distant goals and keep my eyes on them as I take steps forward, making sure every moment is somehow connected in that bigger picture. Since I have lots of dreams, I sway as I walk, sometimes moving towards art, sometimes to the forest, sometimes to the love of people... the last year I realized, though, that my brother's version of life is also true. I can't carry out my dreams exactly, only roughly, because life happens and pushes me in all kinds of unexpected directions. Somehow it's always right, though.

This last weekend, I performed poetry with the Eugene Slam Team at the Oregon Country Fair. Three days in campsite of spoken word artists, tramping around on miles of fairgrounds with some 45,000 Pacific Northwesterners, it has a way of changing things a little. I am at a coffee shop now, looking around between sentences and suddenly feeling overjoyed and blessed to live here. My poetry team was asked to perform at one more Oregon festival, the Tayberry Jam (Reggae on the Mountain) on the weekend of July 23-25th. Tayberry is all about sustainability, permaculture, and mother Earth, and I think it will be an excellent experience to set me off right, because my journey this summer is not just about visiting my people on the East Coast and having fun, but about exploring America and trying to understand what is happening to our Earth.

I felt so cynical this year, like the planet really was going to die, like oceans would turn black soon and skies turn yellow, and I realized that what I need is to hear solutions from normal people. I want to hear people say 'I quit drinking bottled water', or 'This last year I started biking because I don't want to be part of the problem anymore.' I am not interested in delusions, like I've heard some people talk about -- I do not think it's about being the one to start some grand revolution, or rediscovering white magic and asking fairies for help, or about turning ourselves into cyborgs that will be able to handle the changing environment-- these are things I've heard -- I think I just need to hear people talk about their personal solutions, or what inspires them. Fucking basic. I want to NOT give up on life, please, and I want some guidance, and that's all.

So here is my travel plan (which will be off by a few days here and there)

July 27-Aug 10: Biking from Eugene-San Francisco
August 12-14: Hitch rides to LA, California, to visit a certain animal lover who I am so stoked to meet
August 15-20: Get to TX, meet with my friend Blake who would like to explore with me. Explore, volunteer, talk to people.
August 20-25th: Who knows? Visit a few more friends and keep on.
August 25-September 1: Make my way to DC, revisit my childhood home, see my old friends, and talk to a few more people.

I am hoping to raise money on the way selling some poetry, but otherwise I'll be pretty dirt poor, so let's hope the Universe takes good care of me.

My mission

Hi everybody! I turned down a teaching job for the summer and am planning to bike and bus to the gulf coast, because I need to see for myself what is happening, talk to people, and do whatever little thing I can to help. I live in Eugene, OR. I'll head off in a few weeks. I plan to talk to friends along the way and stay solution-oriented, seeking hope in this world-wide time of grief. I'll be posting videos and pictures, so stay tuned!

Dandelion