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Life's an Adventure

life in transit
January 05

temporary pause

Due to editing challenges while I'm in Thailand this blog is temporarily on hold. Please refer to www.kimberlybeth2.blogspot.com for a current blog.
August 25

Home

Home, so many connotations, so many memories, the one thing I wish would never change and yet the one thing I am powerless to affect. I arrived home just before the first on August and in that time frame I have spent five days in the boundary water canoe area, said goodbye to my sister and brother-in-law as they moved to China, spent quality time with my best friends from high school, played maid of honor in my childhood best friend's wedding, worked at my church for a few days, spoke at my grandparents church, and have visited my grandparents. In another few days I'll visit my newly wed friend in Chicago, spend a week in Iowa, and then fly to Thailand. It happens all so quickly. I love home, but it does change. My parents house was ridden with two other adult children when I arrived (a.k.a sister and her husband), my grandparents house has a new roof, new coat of paint, cable, and much of the forest around it has been thinned by logging and new homes are closer and closer to their once very remote location. My friends are all living their own lives and off on new adventures like marriage, the Chesapeake bay, Med school in Manhattan, becoming an author, and studying Arabic in Egypt.

I love my friends and family; however, sometimes I wish I could just freeze time and makes moments last forever without change. I'm a reluctant changer, as much as I'll throw myself into new adventures with ease, I really do prefer some elements of a stagnant life where friends and family remain close by and unchanging.

Regardless, below are some pictures to capture my month in Minnesota thus far:

Congregating around the campfire at night. I believe we had excellent conversation this night. There's nothing quite like sitting around a campfire after a hard day of paddling and portaging, with the loon's haunting call surrounding us.

Boundary water sunset, need I say more....

Wedding fun!
July 25

The End (of me in DC)

I leave in less than a week.  In less then a week, a rented mini-van filled to the brim with my stuff and a few things contributed by my friends will drive away from DC through the Appalachian Mountains, the cornfields of Indiana and Illinois, the bustling insanity of Chicago, the quite hills of Wisconsin, back to the land-of-lakes.  In my peripatetic lifestyle I have had a string of goodbyes in the past 2.5 years.  All of those goodbyes have been mingled with sadness and excitement, and yet this one, ironically, has only excitement.  Excitement to flee this city and move on.  I say ironically, because I’ve been here the longest.  But this transient city, with the mixed population of power hungry and impoverished, filled with pretension, holds no appeal to me.  However, there have been good moments. 

 

- My first real apartment, ubber cheap, and kind of cute.

- Living next to a national park.

- Reading time on the bus

- Sunday afternoons in the quite basement of the National Cathedral enjoying renaissance style choral music while reading and reflecting

- My quirky church and all of the coffee times and enjoyable music

- Thursday night dinners with my Midwestern friends

- Christmas party with insane ginger bread cookies

- A weekend with my sister

- An mid-winter visit by Cora

- A whirlwind visit by Sheila and Andy

- Jenna!

- Weekly margaritas

- Coffee breaks and lunches in front of the white house

- Attempting to garden

- Backpacking the contents of my apartment to a new locations

- Toni!

- Shag Shack Reunion

- Rereading all of the Harry Potter books twice in the past year.

- Watching lots of movies

 

Nonetheless, with this last blog posting from Washington, DC, I say good bye and good riddance!

July 09

happys and crappys

* This blog was inspired by the sharing of “happys and crappys” at the 2.5 Trinity Girls’ reunion this weekend.

 

Perspective, solitude. 

Introspection turning the mind,

a shallow view,

a bleak vision,

of self, of individuality. 

What of virtues? 

What of kindness?

A voice breaking through. 

An idea outside of time and self. 

One realization.

Others.

 

The passing of time.  How do we mark it?  At the start, a scrapbook of my life would include our first big, dog-free family vacation to the Grand Tetons, the senior trip to New Orleans, my first trip outside of the country to Tijuana with my youth group, and the week my parents dropped me off at University in British Columbia.  College would consume at least 4 pages, with I suppose a cursuary mention of my summer jobs.  Post-graduation life of upstate New York, Thailand and Washington D.C. with their respective jobs would also denote a few pages.  However, it occurs to me to stop here. 

 

Are those the big things I remember or even care about?  What makes up an experience?    I’m starting to see the virtue of the little things.  I remember running into a grocery store in grubby cleaning clothes during a 15 minute break to purchase donuts for my fellow custodian staff of district #877.  Frequently and spontaneously breaking out into a Harry Potter puppet song with my friends from Trinity while they visited, will probably stay with me, just as decorating the house I lived in at University alongside my housemates with handmade paper snowflakes has remained.  I always look forward to having coffee/half-priced books/whole foods dates with my mom and eating the ‘usual’ with Jenna at our weekly visits to Margaritas.  And  I still smile to myself as I remember sticking four people into a much to small bed because we were cold and giggling needlessly with Jenna as our legs stuck up in the air on the floor of our apartment.  It’s holding newborn puppies on the fourth of July, it’s laughing with my sister as I crawl on the ground with an injured leg, my dad teaching me how to garden, and snapping peas at my grandparents that stay with me.

 

Usually, it’s the big things I feel obligated to remember and that other people hear about. such as seeing a whole pod of Orcas.  Although that was amazing, it’s the people I met hitch hiking on the island to see the orcas that I remember.  I’d like to remember the Eagle and Child pub where C.S. Lewis and Tolkien used to have discussion, but instead I’ll remember the conversation I had with my friend Cora while there.   Time passes and progresses through the big events of weddings, and births, and moves, but I’m learning that it’s the little things, the day in and out events filled with goofiness, rawness, awkwardness, and authenticity that enrich life. 

 

Negative, stressful, and frustrating events saturated this past year; however, when I actually pause and let go of the bitterness I realize that positive, encouraging, and even ridiculous moments permeated all of those events.  Thursday night dinners with friends, visits from most of my favorite people and getting to visit a few of them, more time spent with family,  my little container garden and compost, walks in the park, rereading the entire Harry Potter series, weekly movie nights, and being a total goof ball with my roommates easily counterbalances the loneliness of the beginning of the year, the stress of a heavy unsupported load at work, the pain of a broken leg, and the boredom of tedious work.

 

 

To quote Rent:

 

How Do You Measure - Measure A Year?
In Daylights - In Sunsets
In Midnights - In Cups Of Coffee
In Inches - In Miles
In Laughter - In Strife

July 01

My Garden

 In this small garden grows,

seeds and greens, but how I don’t know.

I sit and watch the sprouts arise,

while trying to bring the slugs to their demise.   

In this young garden of mine lives dreams,

hoping for times when the world is clean.

With these plants I start my journey,

towards living and learning, without a hurry.

All the while my small garden grows.

 

:)

 

May 28

Sense of Place

A national park resides two blocks from my comfortable basement apartment. It's not grad like Yosemite, or wild like Voyagers. Perhaps it has the honour of keeping company with the greats like Shenandoah, Yellowstone, and Teddy Roosevelt only because it exists within the nation's capital; nonetheless, it has become my refugee. All year I've taken the luxury of walking along the multiple paths with its boundaries. The section of park nearest to me is about two miles in length and never much more than an 1/8 of a mile in width, yet it is enough to serve my needs. I've seen it in with the deep green leaves of late summer, the curled and crispy leaves of fall, snow kissed branches of winter, and now the vibrant green leaves of spring. Of late, I've discovered a route that takes me away from the flat wide path inhabited by runners. Instead I walk along an undulating path that hugs the hillside of the little valley formed by the stream supporting this green Oasis. Bright yellow marsh marigolds brightened this path in early spring, and now the sweet intoxicating scent of honeysuckle enriches my walk. Healthy and dominating poison ivy leaves and slippery muddy patches present obsticles from time to time, and the occasional pack of dogs accompanied by their employed dog walker remind me that I'm still in a city.  However, for the most part I encounter this little patch of wilderness alone. The suspension of belief that I am alone and in an unexplored wilderness restores my sanity that the constant commute into the city as part of the giant rat race filled with meaningless steals from me.

Every place I've lived I've had these walks. Regardless if I live in the wilderness, country, suburb, or city, the need to be away from all things human and instead be enclosed by natural space, is constant. My memory of places largely aligns with my memory of walks through their various seasons. I remember waiting for the song of the red-winged black bird valiantly defending its territory along the creek I passed near my home in MN. In northern MN at my grandparents, its the walk along their 1/4 mile driveway tunneling through the woods alongside wild hazelnuts that remains constant with me, filling me with memories of veering off trail to follow a deer path, ambling along with my grandparents, and spying on butterflies resting on the wildflowers in the middle of the driveway as they bask in the sun. My time in British Columbia brings to mind three walks I selfishly claimed. One leading around a pond, filled with marshy habitats reminiscent of home, another leading through a cool temperate rain forest, and the last leading me away from the suburb I lived in and toward the mountains that called my name. In upstate NY, my backyard was 500 acres of wildness belonging to the nature center I worked at, and my walk: all the trails of the park.  In Thailand it was the dirt road through diactopart forests, with its deafening cicadas and colourful lizards. Even in Iowa, surrounded by cornfields, there's a walk through a avenue of old oaks and around a wetland lake, home to beavers and waterfowl, and mosquitoes.

All of these walks, with their poignant memories of seasons, watching flowers bloom in their time, bird migrations, and squirrel behavior alter according to the time of year, have grounded me with a sense of place for wherever I'm living. My deepest sense of place comes from that walk along the driveway at my grandparents. There my family has roots and history. But to grasp a sense of what makes a place tick, not in its people, but deeper and more ancient, its natural history, I take these walks. I observe, am refreshed, and leave with a better understanding of the passing of time, the seasonal rhythm of life, and peace. With that I pass on this old Gaelic Blessing:

Deep peace of the running wave to you.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the shining stars to you.
Deep peace of the infinite peace to you.

May 22

in the time that has passed

It has been perhaps too long since I last blogged.  Every time I’ve attempted I just haven’t been able to follow through with any complete thoughts or any complete sentences.  So at last I am updating my blog with the mundane happenings of my life in the last three months.  At the time of my last blog, I ended work with an organization that taxed me more than I think I realized even at the time.  I had anticipated upheaval going into it, but no the stress that results from corrupt employers, therefore I at least tell myself that I was little prepared to cope with it.  Since that time my daily employment has been as the glamorous life of a temporary litigation clerk.  It’s really thrilling indexing documents day in and day out [note the sarcasm], however, it passes time, lets me do things like take off for two weeks and hang out with my friend in London and Norway. 

 

Anyway, this year has been filled with things that I think are common for a mid 20’s individual like myself.  It’s a challenge when you unexpectedly realize you’re an adult and don’t know how to cope with it.  (How do adults work at the same place for 30 years and not loss it with the meaninglessness of it all?!!!!)  Thus the recognition that I should shoulder some real responsibilities, mixed with the inner conflict of still wanting to be a child and not have my decisions harbour any real consequences for myself or those around me, in addition to the over all confusion of “If I am an adult, then what on earth do I want to do?” has created a tumultuous year for me.  One that I doubt will lead to much resolution in the near future.  One benefit of this year is that through the process of attempting to apply for a single graduate program (and not succeeding) has kicked me into some action and made me realize that I can’t just be a bystander to my own life (at least not all the time).  Hence, my time has been spent researching graduate programs, taking calculus, and soon to be retaking the GREs. 

 

Also, I’ve made some progress in redeeming myself to myself over my whole time in Thailand.  I’ve completed my first draft of my final maps and it looks like I in fact will be going back to Thailand next year for an undetermined period of 6-9 months, which will include more language study, being able to spend time with people who I really want to know better, and working towards building a greater community mapping capacity with UHDP.  And at least this time I have the advantage of foresight, so I’ve been able to be a nerd and read about the subject that I’m supposed to know something about. 

 

My greatest success in the last three months has perhaps been the remembrance of how much I love all things green and that grow.  Somehow this had been forgotten and I felt guilt and tried to make myself the type of person who is all about people and relationships.  The truth is, I don’t see people.  I see moss sprouting spores, I see mice in the woods, I see grass flowering.  I don’t notice people and all of their sociological problems and issues, and that’s okay.  Foolish at it seems, it’s taken me a while to embrace my inner woodsmen nature and accept that I don’t have to be a on top of the nuisances that dominate cultures and people.  More power to you if you know what a hipster is (which I hadn’t heard of until it was explained to me) or if you know names of people in politics and on the radio, or what fashion styles are in right now.  I’ll stick to my tulip trees, orchard grass, and potted lettuce. 

 
DC life  
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a list of essentials
Guns, Germs, and Steel
Reading Lolita in Tehran
A Tale of Two Cities (Penguin Classics)
Confessions of an Economic Hit Man
Dreams from My Father
The Alchemist
The Ecology of Commerce
Wuthering Heights (Penguin Classics)
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