Easy Peasy

I just made a coconut walnut chocolate bar and it was SO EASY. Three ingredients, three steps. I'm also planning on making my own tea blends. This is making me realize that being creative and making things sometimes is NOT that difficult. For this reason, I will not give into my misconceptions that I don't have enough time to make anything, or that I am too tired. Also, it makes me much more excited for cold winter days spent in my apartment, whirling things together into fun.

Another thought I just had about tea: A good black tea is very soothing to me because it reminds me of late nights talking to my mom in high school when she would make us both Lipton tea with sugar. At the time it felt so warm and comforting, but as I get older I realize that it was also probably my moms attempt to stay awake with her exhausting daughter. It's funny how your perspective changes as you grow up (and this really only makes me appreciate my mom more).

Thank you

for this giving.

Dear Friends/Readers

This is a post about you. See, I would like your input on something that I have been thinking a lot about lately. Although few of you comment (a faithful few friends whom I quite like), my site meter account tells me that many many more of you are reading what I post. In that case, I ask that you consider coming from the woodwork and giving me your opinion.

Here is the thing:

I have been challenged quite a lot this summer with whether or not people can really change. This is an issue that is of great importance to many things I believe, including how to trust others, and what to expect of myself.

In "Walden" Thoreau touches on this as he writes:

"I confess, that practically thinking, when I have learned a man's real disposition I have no hopes of changing it for the better or the worse in this state of existence. As the Orientals say, 'A cur's tail may be warmed, and pressed and bound round with ligatures, and after a twelve years' labor bestowed upon it, still it will retain it's natural form.' The only effectual cure for such inveteracies as these tails exhibit is to make glue of them . . ."

Along with whether or not we can actually change our nature, is the issue that is seems only a very few people are able to hold to, and diligently pursue what they believe. Most people comfortably confess their array of opinions that should naturally distinguish them from others, while living in lifestyle camouflage. So why are some people (like Thoreau or Ghandi or Mother Theressa), more inclined to actually do what they say , while others like myself are passive idealists. Are some more inclined, and the others unable to change?


Here is my question, if you have gotten this far, to you my Reader. Do you think that you actually do what you say? Do you think that it is possible to fully pursue the things you believe? Finally, are some people simply naturally more inclined than others to pursue the change they hope to see in themselves and the world?

To Get Away

It has been both a smooth and unsteady transition into the city. Maybe like a continual ebb of comfort and uncertainty. Primarily, though, I have been quite glad to be here, finding myself actually pursuing the things that I had determined to in my dreams of moving.
One thing that has been difficult, and actually probably the most difficult, is my trying to stay in one place when my heart really desires to get out and explore at a moments notice, at almost every moment. Last week I decided that in order to maintain my sanity I would take the train into the mountains north of the city. This turned out to be very good for my soul, and the company of my friend Janelle only added to the greatness.
While we were in what we renamed "Quaintsville," we ate by a pond, spoke to some nuns at a convent, and walked through a yellow forest. There was a creative learning preschool in the woods where we walked, and I had an overwhelming urge to go apply for a job. Unfortunately, the school was closed for the day.

I know it's silly

It's just food, and I know some people who would think that to be so excited about such a simple thing is unnecessary, but I say that those who find joy in the simple things can find the most joy in the profound.

This is my lunch. It is pretty close to the exact same thing that I make most days. A grilled sandwich. The difference today is that I used locally grown, organic vegetables that I picked up at the farmers market yesterday. You guys. . it made SUCH A DIFFERENCE. The bell pepper not only looked amazing, all multi-colored and marbled red and orange, but it SMELLED LIKE A BELL PEPPER. Also, I kind of have trouble with how much I cook things. Generally, I don't know when to stop and my tomatoes are mushy and my bread is a little black. Today: perfection. And, because it is rainy and cold out I made a little mug of mulled wine, which was not over-spiced or over-sweetened.

The howling wind and falling rain outside is in perfect opposition to the candles and little warm lunch inside.

I found myself in autumn.

Arriving in Penn Station, I found my way to a map that helped me find my way to the train that would take me to my new home. For a moment I considered going outside to take picture, but realized that as it was my new home, time was not of the essence. Making my way to the 2-3 train I bought my unlimited ride card, awkwardly got myself through and headed toward the place I would know.

Once in Brooklyn I got onto the F train, and after just a few moments I came out from underground for the first time in New York. The sun was setting, and the buildings were casting shadows about the landscape. Between my expression of anticipation and back loaded with bags, a man beside me caught me as new and asked, "This your first time seeing it?" I'd been to Brooklyn, but since it was a whole new feeling and a whole new situation, I just smiled and said, "Yea, kind of." He went on to tell me a bit about Brooklyn, and pointed out the highest tower in downtown. When I told him I was moving he wished me good luck, and I got off to find my home.

Seeing my street was odd, since I had spent so much time Google Mapping it the last few months. At my cross-street I stopped for a moment, took it all in, and my heart jumped with joy. After all that had happened, I had actually made it.

That was four days ago, and since then if feels like I have been settled in for weeks. Having friends here has made the transition so smooth, and so enjoyable. Our tiny apartment is a beautiful place, and our plans for it are big. Our tastes are coming together wonderfully, and as I sit here drinking my cinnamon soy coffee, listening to the innocence mission with the sun finding its way to our basement windows, I feel quite content. I love to find the beauty that is around me, and this seems like it will be an easy place to do that.

D.C. to N.Y.C.

My time in D.C. was lovely. A great rest, and a nice transition back into a more permanent and comfortable living situation. My sister and I went to the farmer's market, made pasta sauce and pizza, went with my childhood friend to the movies, played with Jaklin, and hung around the house. She and Erik (my brother-in law, who happens to have great taste in music, which i appreciated through listening to his vinyls), are great parents, and great people to be related too. I really like them a lot.

Monday morning I made my final trip up to NY. On the way I stopped in Philly, which maybe wasn't the best part of my trip. Anxious to get to Brooklyn, I wandered about half-interested and only found the college and the bad side of town. Maybe I will need to go back, to give it a more fair chance.

Getting to New York was exciting and wonderful. I will make a whole new post about my time here, but arriving was exciting (I listened to Sufjan as I caught my first glimpse of the skyline from New Jersey) and easier than I had expected (except for getting stuck in the turnstile. . turn-style?).

Being in NY is certainly bitter-sweet. I miss being on the road, but I do love it here so far.

Chicago! Days 1-4

Chicago felt like an end of an era for me in my travels. My laptop was back in hand, and people I knew were around me. It was entirely different, and I wasn't sure how to feel. Although most uncertain about my time between LA and Chicago, that time alone, facing uncertainty and being met by both great adventure and great peace, felt like a time I was not yet ready to leave.

I arrived in Chicago on Monday, where I went immediately to take the tourist picture in the bean. With my pack and bags I got plenty of comments and looks, from a cop questioning me about why I was in the city to a polished older German lady who told me about her similar travels at my age.

In Chicago I was glad to be with my brother, my friend Stephen, and my brothers friends who have become my own in my visits. As usual, my brother tried to convince me to move, and as usual a part of me wished I could jump in and say yes. We ate vegan food, drank Caribou coffee, and played games. Stephen took me to a wonderful deli, then showed me around the art studios at Wheaton college. Just so you all know, Stephen is so great as a person and as an artist. It was great to see his work, and great to spend time with him. My brother is great, his friends are great. . .

In the end, although sad to see the first half of my trip end, I cannot say it was not a wonderful time relaxing and enjoying friends. It was also nice to find myself closer to NY, and able to say that I could visit again soon. A turning point, to be sure.

Montana Day 3 and North Dakota

I guess I need to get on top of this story telling. Montana Day 3 and North Dakota was almost a week ago, now.

So last Sunday I woke up on the stopped train to the feeling of the car moving. In a delirious state and with my eyes bleary from my sleep on the train floor, I couldn't quite tell if we were on our way or not. Finally, once I actually came to and heard my train mate tell me he was jealous of how long I slept, I knew that we were back on our way.

As we started out I was glad to have some granola and banana that I had bought the night before. I read and wrote, and listened to some music. After spending my nights in the seats, I decided to spend my waking hours in the lounge car, with the views and the window facing chairs. This decision ended up making my day.

Because of the train delays our car was offered free coffee and water all day. Free coffee. . . all day. Another reason to spend time in the view car. While I was down in the lounge reading Moby Dick and jotting notes to recall the scenes, a guy across from me asked how I was holding up. I started talking with this new friend, Limey and another guy (I don't like the term, "guy," by the way, but I don't know how else to describe a young man without saying "young man." Trouble.) Omni. As we talked Omni and I started talking about cities and trading, minimal living, and communities. We spent the rest of the day talking, laughing, reading and enjoying the long ride.

Realizing that I could not only make my way through the country alone, but find people with whom I could connect so easily gave me a great assurance that my love for being on the road was not something that came from short endeavors with those I knew. It is a love that is real, and that I hope to continue to pursue. This became one of the most beautiful days, finding myself quite where I wanted to be, and learning from the things and people around me. It was a time that I was honestly sad to see end.

Montana Day 2

This part of my trip was the longest, and most enjoyable part of my trip thus far. I was met with challenges and blessings in surprise after surprise.

Saturday morning I woke up at my campsite to the sound of trains going by and got my things together to head to the station. It was cold, and the sun was just rising while I somewhat regretted having to put my sleeping bag in its stuff sack and take down my tent. With my black canvas shoes I climbed down to the grounds entrance to get my ride.

Once on the train I sipped some coffee and anticipated winding through the mountains. In the packed view car, where the seats face large windows that extend into the ceiling, I found a seat and let my heart be filled by the beautiful trees, streams and mountains before me. Orange casts from the sun made for an epic journey away from my day of solitude in Glacier National Park.

As the trees began to thin and the ground began to level, I disappointedly felt as though I was headed toward the central valley of California. Not long after it seemed that all foliage had disappeared our train was stopped. A freight had derailed some ways down the track and we were going to be at the station in Montana for a while. We were advised not to leave the station incase the tracks were cleaned faster than expected, so I meandered about looking into the tiny town of bars and casinos and a shut down JC Penny's. Sometimes I would walk a little ways from the station feeling rebellious, then become concerned about missing the train and would walk back. It was really funny, my small attempts at getting away.

Hours ended up going by, and those with closer stops were bused off. An attendant informed me that Chicago bound passengers would be at the station overnight. At first uncertain, having only vaguely talked to a couple people behind me and feeling quite alone I paced about. It was not long before I put off the uncertainty and embraced the time off the train.
There had been people around me with grocery bags, so I stopped a person walking by and found how to get to the grocery store in town. I walked the five or six blocks feeling no rebellion, knowing that I had about twelve hours to kill. The night ended up well with a veggie meal, a glass of wine, some harmonica playing, writing and drawing. After a picnic in the parking lot at sunset I got back on the train, and fell asleep.

Montana Day 1

A lot has happened since Seattle. I will begin with my first day in Montana.

Leaving Seattle: Late afternoon as the sun set over the shore. Conversation with a guy in front of me that finds us sharing stories about our times in YWAM being overseas (India on his part, Nepal on mine). My first train friend that I made on my journey. A note with words of encouragement, and reflections of his prayers for me, signed his hometown "Dallas, TX," and a number to call if I need help in Montana. My first realization that time flies on trains.


Arriving in Montana: Well rested from the train, as I am small enough to curl into the reclining seat with leg rest. My most intimidating part of the trip, hundreds of miles away from anyone I had even an association with and camping alone. Long walks along the highway, grilled cheese from friendly locals at the only open restaurant, rivers and trees. One strange experience of a man stopping along the road to talk to me, and later, me buying a pocket knife. Safe warm night in a campground rec room playing ping pong with friends of the owners. MAKING A FIRE FROM ALMOST NOTHING. Sleeping cozily in my tent and waking up to the sound of a train passing by.


These small bits of my travels are some key moments in my trip, but could be expounded upon to a large degree. Even more than these things were all of the feelings I had finding my way to where I was going, feeling the appreciation of making a new friend, the adventure of exploring through unknown territory, the uncertainty of standing out as alone (which I realized I did far more than I thought I would), and the feeling of accomplishment in finding that I was quite fine and quite glad to be on the road, alone.



Next post: Day 2 in Montana; with a new location

The Traveler: Stop One

After a short flight, I arrived in Seattle, greeted by rows of pine and clear blue skies. A bus took me downtown where I managed to find Pike Place Market more easily than I expected. It was a strange feeling, walking around a city with my pack on (one man stopped me to say, "Your pack is as big as you!" and another to say, "Got another 5,000 miles to go?" I answered, "Almost," to that), but I maneuvered my way through the people. found a cafe for lunch, and purchased a handful of honey sticks for the road. I proceeded to walk all the way up, through downtown and into Capitol Hill where I visited more than on coffee shop, read Throreau and wrote.

This morning I plan on getting some more coffee (I have to take advantage of the situation) taking some pictures, and hopefuly finding my way to a bus to the Amtrak station, so I can get on the road to Montana, where I will arrive tomorrow morning.

Thank you to all of my friends who were came to say goodbye, and to the some who endured about 4 "last nights" with me this week. Thank you to those who couldn't make it but have extended me your warm wishes, thoughts and prayers.

I gave in and brought my little digital camera along with my film camera, so there may be more pictures when I arrive in Chicago and have access to a computer again.


Much much love, Meg

Ebarking

Today I embark on a journey I have anticipated for what feels like years. I have wanted to hit the road since returning from YWAM, but felt that I should commit to finishing school. Now I am done, and with my things packed in my backpack I will set off to Seattle, Glacier National Park, Chicago, D.C., Philly, and finally arrive in my new home, Brooklyn, NY. Thank you to everyone who requested that I keep on blogging because you want to know what's going on. I'm not sure what the road will bring in terms of blogging, but if it is possible I will share with you all my adventures here.

New York, please be ready to accept me with open arms are rush hour in Penn Station in just a few weeks. I would appreciate greatly your kindness as I attempt to maneuver myself across your great city.

Much Love, Meg

Salvation // Mountain

We took a Boat

After a 4 hour drive to Georgia from South Carolina, and a two day flying expedition including an unplanned stay in Atlanta, my vacation has come to a close. Though a bit different than expected (more polos and plaid shorts than overalls and cowboy hats), it was great. One day we took a boat to an island that is a habitat preservation and simply beautiful. Unfortunately they had us leaving right at sunset, so I was shooting photos like a crazy person to capture all the beauty.

Fried Gator and Mason Jars

I am in the South! Yesterday I landed in Georgia to see my brother before coming up to South Carolina for family vacation. There are a lot of things on my list of southern experiences to have, and I have already been able to enjoy many of them. Last night we went to Old McDonalds Fish Farm for dinner. Fried gator, frogs legs, fried catfish, hushpuppies, grits, sweet tea in mason jars. .









There was a thunderstorm that blew through right after we left, which accomplished one of my goals (along with sweet tea in a mason jar), and gave a beautiful cloudy sky for sunset. Cracker Barrel was this morning, riding bikes tomorrow, and hopefully fireflies very soon, too. So good.

Great Outdoors.

A Great Gift

These girls are fantastic. One day at the end of class Hollie asked me if I wanted to have breakfast with her and our friend Shannon. It turns out it was the beginning of a weekly breakfast club that I was kindly welcomed into. Hollie would often make homemade bread or granola, and Shannon and Ro would provide a place to meet with their yogurt, fruit, and french press Peet's coffee. For a few weeks we traded bringing homemade cinnamon roll's and had a four week long bake-off. So fun! I loved the way we all worked together, and I hope that we will reunite over breakfast again someday.

Since You Asked

Blythe, you just made me realize how long it has been since I last blogged! It has been a crazy month. Just the other day I FINALLY cleaned my room and put clothes away that had been clean since Easter! Crazy!

So my last post I said that I would like to camp again. This weekend I DID. Not only that, I backpacked. It was so fantastic.









We climbed 1,000 feet in the first hour, which was the most significant portion of the hike. The steepness made us feel silly about our pace up when we went so quickly back down.





After getting to the site we set up camp. Alexia and I were cast off by ourselves because there wasn't enough room at the girls camp, and boys had to keep a safe distance. We concluded that this was more for their sake when night came and we were telling bedtime stories, then for the sake of modesty. Our instructor was kind and set up camp within shouting distance.



I kept running off into the woods, overjoyed with the presence of trees, streams, and an abundance of pine-cones. I LOVE pine-cones. They hang in front of my fireplace, and on the wall at the head of my bed.




Plastic makes us sad. LEAVE NO TRACE.



John (our instructor) told us some scary stories at night. I boastfully disregarded them with my intelligence ("What did the 'ghost' LOOK like? . . A Light? Well, how did he give matches to a LIGHT?").








The next morning Alexia and I woke up to John throwing sticks and rocks at our tent and snickering, at which time we got up, packed up camp, ate some oatmeal and climbed back down.


"We are now in the mountains and they are in us, kindling enthusiasm, making every nerve quiver, filling every pore and cell of us. Our flesh-and-bone tabernacle seems transparent as glass to the beauty about us" - John Muir, "My First Summer in the Sierra"