The last frontiers: Alaska, menopause and ascension.

I’ve been shifting – transforming. I’ve known some process was at hand, but I didn’t know what I was shifting into. And I might still not know, but I will write about it anyway.

I came to Alaska because the thought of doing so caused me such joy that I knew it was right. It was a case of ultimate follow-your-bliss, with a potency similar to what propelled me to walk the PCT or write Crazy Free. Pure must-do.

I came, and now I am leaving again, with no regrets. The long meditative miles, the physical work at the ranch and the Alaska environment precipitated the shift. Or maybe the time simply had come. I’ve been told that, from the outside, my life looks like constant uprooting. It seems chaotic, unsettled, maybe even pointless. Am I lost? Looking for something? Drifting aimlessly from place to place?

“You drove all the way to Alaska, only to turn around. That makes no sense.”
Sense is not something I concern myself with. Only growth interests me.

This is really 3 posts in one, but I view them as inseparable. As within, so without. Alaska was a perfect backdrop for the life metamorphosis I have embarked upon, which is a stepping stone experience in my greater quest for higher consciousness.

Alaska

alaska1My two favorite things about Alaska are the trees and the people, for opposite reasons.

The trees here carry some of the gentlest energy of any forest I have been lucky to meet. I mistakenly interpreted their short stature as the result of logging when I first arrived. But the land is so vast, it was unlikely that all of it could have been logged. Then I learned of the growth limit imposed on their roots by the frozen ground of intense winters. Trees can only grow as tall as their roots will support – the same is true for humans. Such gentle trees adapted to such harsh conditions. I have enjoyed their company and learning about the medicine they offer, and I will miss them when I leave.

The people here are some of the hardiest I’ve met. If it’s needed, it must be designed, built, foraged, trapped, hunted, raised, grown or self-created somehow. Summer lasts three months. The rest of the year is a dark and cold game of survival in which humans and Nature are on equal footing. This common vulnerability breeds strength, community, respect and humility. When I first arrived, I saw a world of diesel fumes, barb wires, guns and dead beasts’ skins. But it only took meeting a few locals to realize my preconception-perception goggles were distorted.  The cycle of life is simply streamlined from birth to table, and it is entirely in plain view. There are no hidden massive production, transportation, packaging, marketing, shelving. There is also little waste. Resources are too scarce to waste. When a beast is killed, necessary food is provided. When trees are cut, a cabin is built. When a cabin is dismantled, all pieces are saved for the next project.

When I said hardy, I did not mean harsh. As anyone knows who has lived off-the-grid, the smaller the community, the tighter the bond. The size of Alaskans’ hearts are a match for the land. The mountains, tundra and all of wild Alaska are breath-taking. But the real gold here, I found, is the people. I learned a lot here, especially from Goose and Pinky, the caretakers at the ranch, and masters at dancing the fine line between adventure and homesteading. I will see them again. Alaska is only a few gorgeous thousand miles away. My little trail brother, Kristo the Lion, has found home here and will be staying. Another reason to come back and visit some day.

I always wanted to come to Alaska, and now I have. If I had landed here when I was 25 years old, I probably would have stayed. But my days of needing to prove myself have passed. I just know I could thrive here, and therefore I don’t need to choose to experience it, not even for one summer. There is only so much lifetime left and priorities of experiences must be made. Which brings me to the next topic …

Menopause

Woman-Goddess-Nut-by-Maya-CointreauI think it is reasonable to assume that I can and will live to 94 years old. Which makes this year, 2017, the exact middle of my life. When I look back at everything I have created so far for myself, I get stupidly teary-eyed with gratitude. But just when I thought I had finally reached my cruising speed and altitude, comfortable in my own skin and living my dream of a nomadic off-the-grid life, metamorphosis began again.

My favorite thing about menopause so far are the hot flashes. Seriously. The sensation is similar to drinking a good whiskey, except instead of a traceable warmth down the throat and into the belly, the heat radiates from any starting location in the body and expands until it fills it fully. I love to watch it spread, like the flow of a private inner hot spring. The covers fly off. And 5 minutes later, I’m scrambling to gather them back. Hot flashes make me giggle.

The other physical symptoms, I love less. I traded periods for monthly migraines, which prompted me to research natural medicine with a greater sense of urgency. My eye-sight acuity is now inconsistent, but my sense of smell is keener, which makes working on a hog ranch a real challenge. My brain gets cloudy. Some days, I’m just plain dumb. Functionally dumb – I can still read about and understand the intricacies of quantum physics, but I just can’t fathom how to put that pin in that hole that ties the whatchamacallit to the tractor, or remember where I put my glasses. My physical strength so far seems unaffected. “The old that is strong does not wither” (Bilbo Baggins). She might not wither, but neither is she thinner. I can walk, shovel or dig all day until my muscles are pumped and my core is solid. And still, the good bits sag and the middle thickens.

The greatest ride of this metamorphosis, however, is in my mind. All the moody moons of the past decades culminate now. And I cannot falter in my self-awareness or the thoughts take over and drive me nuts. All the stored repressed feelings, fear, guilt, shame, etc. are coming up, amplified. Menopause – isn’t that what happens to old people? Should I prepare myself for the crone stage of life? I’m probably too fat to be loved anyway. I should just be a spinster with a bun on my head and a cat on my lap in a rocking chair. I watch thoughts and feelings arise, and breathe through them until they move on. It helps me to think of it as a detoxification process. Whatever I see is no longer hidden. Like with a thru-hike pack shakedown, I get a chance to decide what I want to carry for the next leg of the journey, or not. It took 47 years to acquire and store all these internal dramas, so I expect the process might take a little while. But I’m on it – like a hawk.

I created most of the experiences of the first half of my life unconsciously. Given the same number of years forward, and now in full awareness, if I do this transition right, the second half of my life should be spectacular.

Ascension

Accessing_Higher_Levels_of_Consciousness__WOUNDS_David_Icke__GrEENZILLA__158215Ascension is a funny term with unfortunate religious connotations. I’m not physically ascending anywhere or leaving my physical body to become a “light being”. Like the trees, I am growing deeper roots so my canopy can reach higher. Higher what? Higher vibrational frequencies, higher levels of self-awareness, higher consciousness and clearer perception of how and why I create what I perceive to be reality.

It’s an ongoing growth journey. And each stage (an arbitrary division on a continuum) seems like an achievement. But I have long understood that enlightenment is a verb, not a destination. And anything I think, say or write, could be revealed as over-simplistic or inaccurate at the next stage. The climb itself is the sought-after experience, not the standing at the summit. Which is why I still use the term “ascension”.

While my body was exploring the rawness of Alaska, and my mind releasing the densest stored energies about and within me, a new knowing entered my consciousness. I felt it coming for a while. I’ve been feeling restless and unsettled. Then one morning, at 4 am, it revealed itself – “The mind that sees all paths, sees the map, and therefore no longer needs to choose a path.”

The understanding that came with it was visceral and wordless with ramifications extending to all experiences and connections past, present and future. The vantage point extended beyond (and including) the body, the self, the higher self to Source itself.  The timeless blue-print behind the script of reality and the scaffolding of beliefs through which stories are told about the script, are in my own handwriting. Like a beating heart, consciousness expands and contracts from self to Source and back again. Because it is more exciting “down here” and less chaotic “up there”. On the screen of my mind, the world is a perfect reflection of everything I am -everything that composes “me”- and vice versa – “my” experiences and “my” self (the experiencing part of consciousness) are locked in a chicken-and-egg dance, an Ouroboros meal. Why create reality? Absolutely everything is a choice of an experience, a keystone detail, the most important thing ever to exist. That’s why.

And, simultaneously, none of it matters … including this so-called ascension process. All of it is make-pretend. How awesome and freeing is that? No need to work so hard to manifest/create something better. It’s already perfect and inconsequential. “There is nowhere to go, nothing to see, no one to meet, nothing to read.” (Christopher Loren)

So, let’s just have fun with it. I get to be a middle-aged goddess. And I get to live in Alaska for another day or so, before the truck and I point south again, to Nelson, British Columbia, for the next adventure.

Some people take drugs for insights … I drive 3000 miles every month 🙂

May all your creating be delicious.
Thank you for sharing this experience with me.

XOX

Roaming Bobcat.

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Fearless – 5 secrets to survive your new love in a tiny home

“2 people. 32 square feet. And barely enough cash to get to where we’re going. What could go wrong?”

Previously, on the Roaming Bobcat … remember how I met a man in Maine, a new sparkly love, and invited him to travel back to the desert Southwest and live in the truck with me for the winter? Right, because living in 32 sq feet wasn’t challenging enough by myself, I guess.
I seriously questioned my sanity at the time, and I panicked a few times before departure. But in the end, you know what killed the cat … There was no way I was leaving without him. We left fearlessly on December 1st and traveled “all over this great Earth”, as Jim liked to say. Here’s a map of our roaming adventures. jimandmeltravels

8,700 miles in total we traveled. From the sand dunes of Death Valley, to the gigantic Redwoods of northern California, via the Sierra Nevada, the rocky mountains, the Cascades, the wind-swept Wyoming plains, through a couple of hot springs, a sunset over the Pacific Ocean, a years’ worth of Brussels sprouts and a new love for green chilies.

Jim flew home a week ago, a month later than he had originally planned.
“Come here, Lovey Bumpers.” he said right before crossing the TSA queuing line. I cried as I watched him leave, and that was a good thing. That meant we still loved each other, after all this.

So here is a short list of advice for you, if you wish to embark on such an adventure. 5 lessons I’ve learned from our wild journey, and also a few insights on what I wish I had done differently.

  1. Unjustified confidence.
    Before we left, Jim predicted we’d make it. When I asked how he was so sure, he replied “unjustified confidence.” He was right, as long as we both chose to believe that we would make it, our perspective-goggles remained focused on what did go right instead of what could go wrong. This self-congratulating attitude set the stage to create more of the same. If there are ups, there must be downs, and vice-versa. So as the roller-coaster goes, keep your eyes on the horizon. I failed at this a little bit. When it was up, I assumed it would keep going that way. When it was down, I quickly jumped to cutting bait conclusions and threatened to fly the man home. I wanted justified confidence, but sometimes, I’ve learned, keeping the peace just takes good ol’ blind faith.
  2. Com-mu-ni-ca-tion.
    You cannot sit and stew, when you live in 32 sq. feet with someone else. You might think you’re avoiding an argument, but your heart is emitting the energy of the unspoken words you’re attempting to save your partner from. And said partner picks up that energy unconsciously and projects onto it much worse than the actual problem at hand. So speak up, whatever it is. Clear up the air early with truthful, calm, open communication. After a month of adapting to each other, Jim and I established a daily “check in” – a safe place where whatever was coming up or moving through us could be shared. I loved the daily check-ins. In hindsight, I wish I had learned sooner that if frustration reaches a boiling point, it is best to walk out into the desert or the forest and discharge that energy first, before the check-in. I mean, isn’t that why we live in our vehicles? So we can have all this open space at our disposal? Use it. Open space doesn’t mind loud noises, but your partner does.
  3. Respect all Alien life
    Living with someone in the truck’s tiny space is like having a microscope on full zoom on each other’s quirks. 90% of the time, these quirks will make no sense to you whatsoever. Why do you need to keep this desiccated piece of wood? He just does. Why must I wear pajamas in bed? Because it’s my bed and I said so. Men are from Mars, women are from Venus, but your beloved will suddenly seem straight outta Alpha Centory’s third left moon. This is a good time to sit back, relax, and dismantle. We are all programmed from birth to what society and our parents deemed right and good. Others’ programs might overlap, or they might not. We only get upset if we believe that our programming is superior. Understand, it is not. On the partner’s home-world, that quirk is what is right and good. And if you can laugh at the differences, you get bonus points.As a recommended extra step… Reinforce respect with daily small appreciations.
    “Thank you for packing the truck this morning.” “Thank you for the hot water for tea.” “Thank you for driving me all over this great big Earth.” Feeling seen and appreciated fills up the space with good vibes and makes the aliens feel at home.
  4. Space and your personal frontiers
    No matter how tight you like to snuggle, you will need breathing space to survive. And it might happen that it is pouring rain out, for days, and that neither of you feels like walking out into the cold. In such times, a good skill is the ability to create a bubble of privacy in your mind. Quiet space is private space. You can also sleep in opposite directions. Having someone’s feet by your face somehow feels more private than breathing their breath. Keeping a private journal and separate social media are essential. One partner can also get dropped off at a coffee shop or a library for a few hours. If the rain stops, then go ahead and walk away. Hike different trails, find each other at the top. Consciously choose different experiences to ensure that you always have some exciting stories to share with each other.
  5. Strap yourself in and feel the Gs.
    If this was a “normal” relationship, one or both partners would go to work all day and reunite for a few minutes between dinner and some TV show in the evening. On the road, a two-year relationship gets crammed into each week. So, you can expect two years worth of “stuff” coming up in that time-span. Here you are, thinking you’re on a geographic journey … 8,700 miles, 20 states, 5 national parks, etc. That is nothing compared to the internal space explored. The person with whom you started at mile 0 is gone by mile 1,000, and they’re not coming back. They were changed by the shared experience and by the constant contact with you. And you are different too, even if you don’t see it. Feelings, expectations, plans, preferences – everything changes. Your partner is not inconsistent, he or she is evolving. So, support their growth with love, and honor yours with self-respect, because in the end that is what the journey is all about – that, and nothing else.These are the biggies on my mind at the moment. But Jim only left a week ago, and I suspect I will continue learning as layers of memories are revealed in order of increasing subtlety, like layers of an onion.

    Until the next adventure …
    Jim and I
    To Jimmy James. Thank you!
    XOX – Loves.

My first and likely only political post

[Originally written as a Facebook post]

I don’t engage in political debates, and for that I’ve been misjudged uncaring.  I don’t listen to the news. That doesn’t make me ignorant.

A madman walked into a gay bar in Orlando and killed innocent people, igniting a spark in a barrel of dynamite-loaded opinions. Whichever fears one already subscribed to were suddenly further justified by the senselessness of the act. The madman had a gun, let’s ban guns. The madman had Afghani parents, let’s exile all Muslims, and while we’re at it, all foreign-born immigrants.  The victims were gay, let’s point the finger to homophobia. Let’s point, let’s point … to something, to someone outside of ourselves. Let’s reduce our tribe, our family to that which was hurt, so that we can exclude that which did the hurting. We do this to feel safer. If we were to admit that a random madman walked into a bar and killed innocent people, then we’d have to accept that this could happen again, anywhere, anytime, placing us and our loved one in constant potential danger. But if there’s a greater cause, purpose or scheme, then the likelihood of it hitting home is perceived as less. A conspiracy theory is much more reassuring than an isolated insane act to the human brain.

Einstein said that a problem cannot be solved from the level at which it was created. Fear-based dividing and hierarchical categorization of the human tribe doesn’t foster peace, it starts wars. Review your history books, if you don’t believe me.

So, we must rise above and look from a greater perspective. Let’s say the whole world is our tribe, then the madman is our brother. Now it’s an inside job. It’s a family problem, a whole world problem. And I don’t claim to know anything, but from my perspective, it seems that fear is not born because there’s a problem, there’s a problem because we live in fear. It’s not healthy. It’s bound to crack.

“They” say I’m ignorant of the “facts” because I don’t watch the news, that I live a selfish life in Lalaland with my head in the clouds or in an opaque paper bag, that I’m heartless for posting happy posts in the face of tragedy, that I’m blindly delusional for going on long walks when America is on the brink of war. And I ask, how does my spending hours feeding my mind with the horrors of the world help anyone? Who benefits from my fear? (And yes, I could follow this question straight up the conspiracy ladder, but again that’d only redirect the fear-based finger pointing). Shouldn’t *somebody* hold this space here – where it is remembered that the world is a magical, beautiful place – for balance? And what if more of us turned off their TV and concentrated instead on finding and sharing beauty and love in the Right Here and the Right Now? What if our madman brother had grown-up in a world where the majority chose to keep their eyes open in the sunlight instead of staring at the darkness? Even if our brother was Muslim and had a gun, don’t you think the story would have had a different ending?

I value your diverse opinions. I welcome the whole spectrum on my FB feed and in my life. But do not measure my actions by the yardstick of your assumptions.

Not all bliss is born of ignorance.

Flow: An interview with TheBobcat

We join The Bobcat on this rainy Halloween for a status update and reality check. A jasmine tea brewing, Railroad Ave as weird as we had left it, laptop is plugged and ready. Let’s catch up …

Good morning Bobcat, it has been a while since you last wrote and some of your readers might be wondering about your whereabouts. How is your post-PCT reintegration into real life going? 

Well, Bobcat, since I am both asking the questions and answering them, this might be a bit of a redundant interview, but as you know, I am not reintegrating.

You mean you are resisting reintegration? 

No, I mean I don’t believe in “reintegration”. Reintegration implies that the trail was an adventure outside of what you just called “real life” rather than an integral part of it. I think some people might feel this way because on the trail a certain flow is established that seems unnatural, almost magical. This is reflected in the terminology. On the trail we speak of Trail Magic when our needs are fulfilled effortlessly, of Trail Angels when strangers show us kindness and so forth. I believe that the magical quality of the trail is actually a quality intrinsic to life, it’s just that on the trail people expect it and are therefore more attuned to it. Even pragmatic hikers who argue vehemently that magic doesn’t exist believe in trail magic; I had the pleasure of meeting one of those hikers. So, rather than “reintegration” to some separate, less magical reality, I am living my post-trail life as an extension of my trail life.

Mmh. Interesting. So, what does “living a trail life” actually mean in the day to day? 

The basic premise is a blind trust that all is well, all is as it should be, I am always exactly where I am supposed to be and the Universe is benevolent and loving in all situations.

It seems if all is always well and you are always exactly where you are supposed to be that you easily could be stuck somewhere. Wouldn’t you lack motivation to grow and explore if you are always content with where you are? 

If that were the case, I would not be The Roaming Bobcat, now would I? One aspect of trail life is to follow one’s heart. This is a cat with many names; anything from God, Allah, Jehovah, Inner-voice, HigherSelf, Intuition, etc. We actually know what we need, even when we don’t know that we know. If it were right for me, I would feel great joy at staying put, but as it is, my own heart, in recent times (everything always changes, including this sentence), has found its greatest joy in random meanderings.

I see we are going to have one of those “higher” conversations this morning. Would you take it down a notch and give us some examples? 

Sure. You want specifics … While I was on the trail, I really longed to be back in Bellingham. I felt it was my home. I even passed on applying for a park ranger job in Death Valley, which had my name all over it, to return to Bellingham. When I pulled into Bellingham the day after finishing the trail, however, I felt a clear pull to continue on south. Despite numerous reasonable reasons to stay in Bellingham, I got in my truck and drove to Portland. Many times on the trail I felt that my heart was inadequately small to hold the magnitude of joy I felt. This is how I felt on the drive down to Portland. I was moving to Portland to become a yoga instructor there and felt absolutely sure that it was the right move.

But that’s not what happened? 

No, as indicated by my presence here, that is not what happened then. I had a lovely week in Portland with my friend Weathercarrot, but at no point did I feel a drive or excitement for yoga job searching of any kind. I resisted the urge to judge myself for this, even after balancing my checkbook and discovering that my credit card was maxed out. The trail cost me a lot more than I had anticipated.

This doesn’t sound like a “need fulfilled” sort of situation …

Our lower earth-bound-selves, or ego, are not in a position to judge what needs are fulfilled in most situations. The fact that I had no money was the perfect backdrop to test out my hypothesis that my needs would be fulfilled without any pain on my part if I just believe they would. I am not very receptive to subtleties  and the Universe knows this, because I am of It (Its creation, you might say, though that is only a pale reflection of the bigger picture), so it is easier for me to see the inner-workings of the Universe in contrast to a dire financial situation, if that makes sense. I’d like to return to the topic of money later, but let me tell you what happened next.

You got money? 

Yes, I did. A friend of mine from the trail, Siddhartha  got a job near Ashland and asked me if I could cat-sit for him for a week. This was a blessing  because the day I was to start cat-sitting was the day Weathercarrot was flying out leaving me without a place to stay in Portland. At the last minute, however, Siddhartha got a job in Portland and no longer needed a cat-sitter. As a joke, I texted him “can I have your job down south then?”. He answered “let me check”. A few minutes later, I got a text from another trail friend, Threshold, saying “You are in. We leave in half an hour”. And that is how I got a job working on an organic farm near Ashland. That made me giggle, a lot. I drove overnight south and started work at 8 am the next morning. It was so different than anything I had ever done. I loved working with the plants. I loved the people, the landscape, the long crazy physically hard days (from 12-15 hours a day; our longest day was 17 hours). It also paid pretty well. I worked at four different farms while I was down there. Food and lodging was covered, so any money I made went straight to my truck’s glove-box (I had no pocket). I was there for about three weeks. Just about when my back could no longer take the work, Threshold said she needed a ride to the Breitenbush Hot Springs, where a friend of hers worked. I was the only of the transient employees with a vehicle, so I drove her there. Soaking in hot springs was exactly what I needed, especially for free. As an extra present from the Universe, the day after we got there, an advanced acro-yoga class started. I was told that it is almost impossible for staff guests to get into classes, but I don’t believe in ‘impossible’ or ‘almost impossible’, so I got in the class effortlessly. I suppose it would have been fun, but when I woke up the next morning, I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt in my heart that I was moving on from there.

How did you know?

I could feel that immense joy invade my heart at the thought of getting back in my truck and heading north.

But you missed out on staying for free at a very expensive resort and doing a serendipitous acro-yoga class … 

I could answer this on several levels. At the most basic physical level, I think it was wise of me to not subject my body to the rigorous workout that a week of advanced acro-yoga demands. Working on the farm did a number on my back. On the highest level, I would say, there are no rules and who cares. If I feel more joy by leaving than staying, then why stay? This falls under the “if it ain’t fun, don’t do it” rule – with the caveat that there are actually no rules, not even that one. Again, everything changes. Still, as a starting point, following the fun is a good rule.

Okay, so you drove north with some cash and a broken back. But you don’t have enough to cover your credit card debt and you are still not looking for work. So, how is THAT helping with your needs? 

Money will come to me, in a form or another. I think that free-will really only applies to the world of form. I mean, we create our own reality with our conscious and unconscious intents and as a reflection of the energy we put out, but the higher Self underlying needs are still fulfilled. We choose the question, not the questioning.

Whatever that means, mumbo-jumbo-hippy-girl … I guess your readers can see that super-hippy new leather-patch coat you found in a free box you’re wearing. You look like a caricature. 

I am quite pleased with the free coat, yes, thank you for noticing :-). What I mean is that nothing matters. I will not be financially broke because I do not dwell in “financially broke” energy. I live generously and the Universe matches me. If I return south and work some more at the farm, my credit card debt will be taken care of, if I drive away from the known source of income, my underlying energy remains, so necessarily the Universe aligns itself to match my energy. I think that is what “manifesting” essentially is, but I don’t claim to know how it works. I’m just experimenting, as I said earlier. And it could all fail, and I could go broke, and that’s fine. I’ll keep on assuming things work out until proven otherwise.

So if you are not working at the farm, what money-making activity will you engage in up north? 

I don’t know. That’s the beauty of it. I have been working very hard at “not creating”. It’s pretty obvious to me that I always get what I wish for, so I am trying not to wish. I feel that way the Universe has free reign, unbound by my potentially misguided earthly wishes. I am bypassing the “be careful what you wish for, you might get it” energy.

And how is this working out for you? 

Not so well, actually. It turns out my brain is a mad wishing machine. I have 100 dreams a minute. The less I know where I am going and what I am doing, the more I come up with plans to fill the void.

But isnt’ you forcing a void a form of resistance? Shouldn’t you accept the fact that you have dreams and plans and wishes? 

Maybe. As I said, I’m experimenting. I don’t really know how it works. All I know is that I wake up everyday with peace and gratitude in my heart. Maybe dreams, wishes and plans are like thoughts, they should be observed but not taken to be absolute truths. Or maybe our conscious dreams are irrelevant, our higher-Selves dreams are those being fulfilled, and those are never wrong. Or maybe I’m just a hippy in a leather-patch 70s jacket with a giant tear on the back arm. It’s all good. I’m exactly where I am supposed to be, wearing exactly the jacket I am supposed to wear.

And this perfect life, do you plan on continuing living it solo or are you looking for a life-mate, or do you already have someone in heart already? Some of your readers have been wondering and trying to find clues to your love life in between the lines. 

Ah, yeah … Oh, look at the time! I’m supposed to go meet Megan 30 minutes ago. Sorry, that’s all I have time for. It was nice chatting with you. Thank you, readers, for putting up with my randomness. Love to you. More soon …