California Dreaming

I grew up in the foothills of Northern California and have always had mixed feelings about the place. It is a small town and I grew up in a small house on 2 acres surrounded by oaks, manzanita, deer and silence. It had a way of making me feel claustrophobic at times.

We lived three miles out of town on a dirt road, surrounded by hundreds of crickets who'd chirp all night long. (I only noticed when city folk would mention how loud they were). We could walk all night if we wanted to, just by the light of a full moon and we spent our summers plunging into the satisfying waters of the Yuba River.

Yet, I often found myself dreaming of the long, flat, wide, straight streets of cities - the seemingly straightforward, uncomplicated, matter-of-fact, predetermined benefits of man-made environments. In my hometown, trees and mountains which at times gave me a sense of protection and warmth, at other times made me feel trapped and isolated. The natural, unkempt surroundings of the forest both filled my heart with delight and caused me frustration.

I am here again in my childhood home with my husband and children. We are visiting my mother and brother who still live here. As with each visit, I sit in the same rooms and walk along the same paths as I did as a child. I notice that the trees have grown and that many things have changed.

Yet, what surprises me the most is not the way things are different from when I was a child. What surprises me is the way in which my own childhood memories are slowly being reshaped through the eyes of my own children. The way I remember my days as a child slowly begins to interweave itself with the daily romps and giggles of my children. It is as if I am seeing my world from a brand new vantage point.

Isn't that me sitting in the sandbox under the swaying oak trees letting sand flow through my outstretched palms? Am I not the one collecting moss and branches to create miniature worlds of my own making?

I sit on the back deck, breathe in the dry, familiar air and watch my children dart back and forth across the front yard. I find myself reliving my past through their laughter and overwhelming joy. Magically I slowly forget those things which aggravated me as a child and instead realize that I am savoring the bits which brought me satisfaction and happiness. I know there are downsides to growing up out here in the countryside, yet I easily push them aside as I witness the utter joy on my children's faces as they dedicate themselves to nothing but pure, unadulterated play from morning until night.

Our world seems so simple here. We step back just far enough to see things with a clarity that I fail to grasp when at home (where we rarely take the breaks we so desperately need to let our soul dangle). At home there is always a long list of "duties" which ultimately encapsulates me even more than the tall oaks and wide mountains ever did (and, ironically, are traps of my own making).

Despite the solid sidewalks and expansive streets of our city, it is out here in the wilds of Northern California that I find myself able to breathe again. It is here that I let down my guard just long enough to realize that I haven't been longing for wide city streets at all. In fact, I have been in awe of how high the trees have grown and how tall the mountains seem to have become ever since we drove down that dirt road of my childhood .

The Compassionate Life

I was on vacation from the middle of August until the middle of September - ahhhh, vacation. The space and time to think again. To actually read a book and to breathe deep, deep breaths, those breaths which actually fill the bottoms of my lungs. The time to taste the subtle richness of a coffee, the smoothness of melt-in-your-mouth ice cream, laughter with family and friends, the scent of new landscapes, the sounds and sensations of different locations. Since we always take our vacation in big chunks of time (this was a "short" three-week vacation) we have the luxury of slowly getting used to this state of mind over the course of weeks.

It is almost always on vacation that I feel myself transforming back into what I like to call "myself." It is a slowing down, an embracing of the realities of where I happen to be standing at that moment and the ability to listen and understand it.

While on vacation I had decided to read two books which I had purchased in Seattle: "The Well-Adjusted Child-The Social Benefits of Homeschooling" by Rachel Gathercole and "Real Food-What to Eat and Why" by Nina Planck. I was NOT disappointed as I slowly made my way through each book. Both point toward something I had been longing for but was unable to grasp: getting back to basics. One book reminded me of the value of family and the bonds that form there each and every moment we are together. The other reminded me of the importance of food and the need to get back to the basic elements of it which means getting as far away from processed foods as possible. In my hectic life, I often forget the importance of home-cooked foods (be it cookies or dinner or a snack of carrots and hummus). I don't agree with everything that Nina writes in her book (I prefer to avoid meat more often than not) but all in all it was a good reminder to get back to foods that are real (we have even started purchasing raw milk from a local farmer and are drinking it as-is (no heating it first) and making some fabulous yogurt and kefir. I look forward to making some cheese!).

Then, a week into our vacation, while browsing through Bookshop Santa Cruz (yes, you guessed it, this book store is located in the heart of fabulous Santa Cruz, California - our vacation was visiting my family members who are spread out between northern and southern California) I spotted a book that Alice had reviewed for Multilingual Living Magazine titled, "Eat, Pray, Love-One Woman's Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia" by Elizabeth Gilbert. On a whim I purchased it. In fact, my husband purchased it for me.

Husband: "You want to get that book?"
Me: "Well, I donno. Alice said it was good and here it is as a favorite pick by one of the book store's employees. It must be a good book."
Husband: "I think you should get it."
Me: "Yea, well, it is pretty expensive. I can just borrow it from the library when we get back."
Husband: "We're getting it for you." He takes it off the shelf and as he turned to go to the cash register, I beamed with an excited smile.

That night I started reading "Eat, Pray, Love" and my life started changing.

There is a part in the book where she spends time at an ashram in India. By the time I finished that part of the book, I was trembling. It is hard to explain why it impacted me as it did. Perhaps it was because by the time I got to that part of the book we were visiting my mother and brother in my childhood home (one which is filled with ambivalent memories thanks to the endless arguments of my parents as I was growing up) which always leaves me feeling a little exposed and raw.

Or perhaps because it resonated with the years I spent practicing Zen Buddhism, which included visits to Green Gulch and Tassajara Zen Centers. For anyone who has spent time at these two zen centers, they are the real deal: up before sunrise to meditate for hours, silent meals, working in the garden for much of the day, crashing onto your floor mat at the end of the day from sheer exhaustion. There ain't no way you can escape yourself at these places no matter how hard you try. I was 17 and 18 years old at the time and a wore a scarf on my head for over a year as a kind of "leave me the hell alone because I am trying to figure out who I am" gesture.

For whatever reason, there was a moment while reading the book that I suddenly experienced an overwhelming rush of compassion; compassion for myself, my family, for humanity as a whole - a level of compassion which I don't think I have experienced before. It was a total, complete and in some ways spiritual wash which came over me at that moment and I couldn't remember what it was like to NOT be completely compassionate in all ways, shapes and forms. It was a kind of embracing of the world and a love for everyone in it.

At that moment I felt it just taking over my every cell without any urging on my part. It reminded me of zen koans (which I read incessantly during my zen Buddhism phase of life): that kind of sudden realization which takes place in a different part of of our being than our mind - a whole body experience, if you will. Like the pure satisfaction we experience when musical notes resonate in perfect harmony. We know what we would like to hear (or what we don't like to hear) but it isn't until those notes resonate perfectly that we experience an absolute whole-body-and-mind fullness from the wash of the music.

I still have no idea what caused the perfect blend of words, thoughts, experiences, mistakes, hopes, dreams, tragedies in my life to cause this moment to happen but whatever it was, I was left feeling like I was viewing everything in life from a completely different vantage point than before. My struggles for different things and desires in life just melted away and I was left with a combination of humility, understanding, calmness, love, joy and gratitude.

I'm not sure how long this state of being will last. A few aggressive Seattle drivers, a nasty coworker, the hectic schedule of life could very easily knock me off my balance. But for now I am so honored to have this opportunity to experience this way of experiencing the world.

Let's put it this way: the other day when someone raced in front of me and cut me off in a big gas-guzzling SUV and then proceeded to flip me off (yes, even Seattle has those people), I found myself looking at that outstretched middle finger and feeling nothing but deep compassion for that person; compassion for what must be going on inside that person which would urge him to act that way. I actually understood exactly how caught up he must have been in his own world, where doing such things was his only way of making himself feel whole. Is that not something to feel compassionate about!?

There have been times recently when my husband expected me to react a certain way to something he or someone else said (based on how I usually react) and instead, when I didn't react the expected, pre-compassionate-me way, he gave me a big smile. Smiling back in return I said, "Remember, I told you! I have changed!"

Oh - and some fabulous music!

My favorite right now is Joe Purdy: www.joepurdy.com. You can listen to his songs on his website. My favorite albums of his are "Only 4 Seasons" (I love the song "Why You") and the other album "You Can Tell Georgia" (the song "Can't Get it Right Today" is great).

And another great band is Nickel Creek! My mother and brother introduced us to their music while we were visiting.

This Is Where I Want To Be

I want to be in South America traveling in the Yoda Van! Allison and Matthias, you guys are my heroes! So many of us talk about traveling for a year with our kids but you guys are actually doing it! Look at you go, woooohooo! These photos are from your first blog entry, I hope you don't mind me stealing them - they are so great!

Allison is American and is married to Matthias who is from Germany. They have two wonderful bilingual boys. We got to know them in our local German language playgroup, Kinderstube, and quickly became friends. Perhaps it is our mutual die-hard hippy perspectives that brought us together? We both drive VW vans (ok, we don't actually DRIVE ours right now since it is broken down but one day we will drive into the sunset again with our Vanagon!) and they used to drive a Eurovan but sold it for an air-cooled VW van (the Yoda Van) for their year-long trip. Way to go hippy friends! Drive on, drive on!

When we heard they would be quitting their jobs, selling their Eurovan, purchasing an air-cooled VW van, and driving south through the Americas for a year with their two sons, we were in awe. What a fabulous thing to do. This is the kind of experience that can define you for a lifetime, for many lifetimes! How envious I am of you guys. You are actually living your dream.

I remember travels in our VW Camper Van when I was young. Those are some of my most wonderful memories. It isn't really any of the actual events that stick in my mind, it is more the overwhelming feeling that overcomes me when I think back on those trips from California through Mexico. There was something that felt like total freedom, the unknown unfolding before us, even though I was only a child. I remember wind in my hair as we drove along the desert roads and drawing pictures of what I saw pass by on the fold-out table in our VW. This is a taste of travel and freedom that has stuck with me for my entire life and has helped to define who I am inside and out. This may even be the source of the joy that I feel each time we take our road trips from Seattle to California and back.

I long to see what Allison and Matthias are seeing, to smell the saltwater, feel the sand and sun but most of all, to simply be there, that place which is different and so foreign. To live, even for just a little while, in the unknown can be so eye-opening and the world can take on new meaning. And knowing that for the next year, the world is your oyster, all yours for the making.

However, I also cherish my home and knowing what each day will bring. I guess in the end what I want is to have both worlds (between worlds again). I want to have my home, my income, my security half of the year and then the other half, I want us to have the freedom to travel, to roam, to see the rest of the world, to live without having to plan out tomorrow and the next day and the next. Is this too much to ask for?

Unfortunately, my husband and I haven't figured out how to make this happen for us. In the meantime, I will travel vicariously through the lives of those who are winding their way through the unknown, like Allison and Matthias. Maybe Rick Steves will contact us and ask us to travel the world for his "family vacations through the back door!" Here we are Rick, give us a call! We can be packed up in an hour, I swear! And no, I'm not kidding, give me a call!

Make sure to check out "Travels of the Bay Family and the Yoda Van" here: blogs.bootsnall.com/TheBays. Enter a comment, say hello from wherever you are! They will love it!