chapter 717 of this life-

-slowly creeps itself around the corner... showing up in the form of wraiths and ghostly figures beckoning me towards what seems like darkness but really it just the unknown.  leaving everything that i have found comfortable and comfortably uncomfortable for the past two and a half years.  to name a few: my man, my dog, my job, the utah desert, friends and connections lost and refound, the san juans, osha, aspen trees, winter time, snow boots, apples, the list goes on and on- all that i appreciate and love about this place, my home, my sanctuary, and my hell- to leave it all indefinitely scares me and makes me wanna curl up, watch chick flicks, and cry. 
this vacation off from work has been epic in a lot of ways... ranging from dramatic emotion and being told i am a "lovely trainwreck" to grieving, healing, being in the wild with females/getting a dose of my own wilderness therapy, getting a tattoo and truly devoting myself/my spirit to joy, and moving out of the only place i have lived in the last year (which is out of 3) that has truly felt like home despite the crowded chaos of the kitchen and the dark living room.  today is sunday, which is my favorite of the seven days of the week; it is always my perfect excuse to stay home and watch a movie, especially when the clouds are looming as they are today.  i spent the last week in the wilderness with two wonderful ladies and two wonderful dogs.  i couldn't believe the vast landscape of my heart that was provoked and spilling out all over the place as i walked, came upon high alpine lakes, dreamed vivid dreams, and sat with myself before the sunrise.  a few highlights included spontaneously stripping down into nude-ness and jumping in the pine river, deciding to call the day short at a spot called moon lake, and rejoice in the incessant wetness of the misty rain afternoon- journaling and distracting myself with harry potter (my first go at the books by the way). another moment i reluctantly and hopefully share is my sudden surge of emotion that caused me to scream and hurl rather large rocks into the pine river (5 or 6 as an attempt to be exact), releasing emotion, persistent circular thoughts, fears, and finally dropping myself out of my head into an adrenaline filled body, guided by truth and heart.  this happened on the last day a couple hours before it began to downpour and we all decided to forgo our rain gear, and just walk getting drenched, and soaking up the last bits of our journey together- ready to take in any last gift the wilderness had to offer.
i always feel like i am walking my path when i find myself in truly wild places-waking with sunrise-mornings i wish would never end- and crawling into my bed when the last of the blue shadow evening has faded into darkness. simplicity, and evoking exploration beyond anything that can exist in four walls. 
so now i am sitting in a room- four walls that have provoked much exploration for me since i have moved in here, and are getting closer and closer to being empty.  just a few things linger here, mostly dirt and p-chord, but many many memories that i will keep close to my heart despite their nature.  thick raindrops have just begun pelting the leaves outside the window, bringing back memories of candlelit nights where there was no where i would rather be than here on this bed, with my lover, listening to rain, or feeling the moonlight seep in through the small east-facing window.  ode to this odd-shaped, terribly insulated room! ode to lovers' arms! ode to moving in, and moving out! ode to the creeping up of my next chapter! 

right now

i am sitting in the kitchen in between two computer screens, the one that i am typing on, and the other playing "dog days are over" by florence and the machine, along with a few other songs i am about to line up on grooveshark... the song starts out like:
happiness hit her like a train on a track/ coming towards her, stuck no turning back/ she hid around corners and she hid under beds/ killed it with kisses and from it she fled/ with every bubble she sank with a drink/ and washed it away down the sink
hiding from happiness? love maybe? truth? governed by fear and what it can really be like to take the risk and move into a place of real hard contentment with life...
my ears have recently been spending most of their time listening to happy, somewhat dramatic, and on the edge of empowering bands like the morning benders, foster the people, florence and the machine, mumford and sons, and a few singer-songwriters that make me wish and believe that i will be a singer-songwriter in my next life.  Evan calls it my hipster music, which actually makes me smile a little bit inside because i wish i could dress as well as the hipsters that stroll valencia in san fran... but once again-not for this lifetime, plus obscurity loses its attractiveness to me pretty quick.
onto a less- satisfying and invigorating topic, i just recently found out (as in yesterday morning) that i have an autoimmune disease called hashimoto's thyroiditis.  this means that all of the good antibodies in my immune system that are supposed to be fighting off disease cannot tell the difference between healthy and non-healthy tissues and have begun to attack the healthy tissue of my thyroid.  this causes me to have an array of symptoms that have felt somewhat unexplained and unprompted until i found this out.  fatigue, lethargy, depression, heart burn, my metabolism switching from being very slow to pretty fast (hyper- and hypo-thyroid-ness), no wonder motivation to exercise can be SO hard.  in some ways it is a bit of a relief to finally know whats wrong, and finally begin to start focused treatment with my naturopath... in other ways it is a bit scary, definitely very fresh and unknown, i can never eat gluten again, and by that i mean i can't even use a cutting board that has just had bread on it, or use shampoo or soap that has wheat protein in it or oats... this means i have to be a high maintenance customer whenever i go out and maybe even walk out of a place if they can't guarantee that nothing is cross contaminated with gluten- high maintenance.... yikes.  so i am on the search for research... books, websites, helpful resources of any kind in order to really nail this thing as i work to rebuild the lining of my stomach and start taking 15,000 iu of vitamin d a daaayyy! holy smokes.  so if anyone reads this... which i am not sure they do, any info or suggestions are highly appreciated.  a good thing is that my naturopath believes it can be corrected if i am really diligent with it right now... it is extremely rare for someone in the twenties to have this disease, most people who have it are women in their fifties, but it can definitely be genetic, which i think might be the case for me.  by the time people are in their fifties their thyroid has already become hypo, and mine can still be regulated... so we will see how things turn out...
this is a big time in my life... i just found out i have hashimoto's and i have been looking at applying to a program called pacific quest located in hawaii... a new place and life to explore beyond the comfort of my little mountain town of durango where my heart will probably stay and return to for a long time.

a rather personal poem i wanted to share

but why does the mind always
have to be convinced of truth?
truth is in the feeling of my ankle
on this wood floor
it is in the opening of my body
to my lover
it is in my hand being an extension
of the heart
and the fact that
i cant let that line go

truth is in the relaxation
of my feet in the ocean
swallowing smooth cool
waves

in the fear of being alone
in the dark

in the summer moon
hung sultry
in august

in the exaltation of a heart basking in the presence of another- not
in the grey locomotive drone of thoughts
loud-thick-fleeting-repeating

not in the dark spiral
though endless, inviting
truth is
in the opening where
dark spiral turns to light

the green dress

in relation to my last post, i want to take a couple minutes to write about the green dress.  i used this metaphor once in order to describe to a student what it can be like to go home (especially after being in wilderness), and the patterns, no matter how old, that we often succumb to upon returning home no matter who we are or where we are coming from.  the metaphor went as such; there is a green dress that hangs in my old closet, outside of my old room, in my dad's house, at the top of the darker staircase that leads to my room.  i created it when i was in high school, when i secretly wanted to wear black to reflect my mood, and when the cracks around the door frame of my room were first born (my technique of open, slam, open slam...) getting the picture?  unfortunately, every time i return home, i find the dress to be just as seductive as the last time, marching up the stairs, putting it on over my head to find that it is just as form fitting as ever.  i tend to cry a lot, and prove to my parents and sisters that nothing really has changed and that they are right, i am still the same person i was in high school, lost, confused, angry, attention seeking in all the wrong ways: WOULD SOMEBODY JUST LOVE ME EVEN THOUGH I AM ACTING LIKE A TOTAL ASSHOLE???
but not this time. no, i didn't do it.  the dress sat, hung, in my closet.  and don't get me wrong, i opened the closet a few times, i caressed the white lace frills on the sleeves, the 3 silk buttons marching down the breast twirled within my thumb and fore finger, and something kept me from tossing that long-sleeved, down to my ankles, sea foam green dress on over my head.  maybe i have better style? or because i am not truly a hipster at heart? or maybe taking a couple deep breaths really does work, and maybe bringing the calm, curious presence of my man home with me has something to do with it as well.  either way, i left new hampshire with an ancient feeling of anxiety AND a little more faith in myself, and a little more faith in my relationship with my sisters (especially allie, if you're reading this).