12/25/16

The Sierra Nevada

Christmas Morning my mind still stuck in the sierras.
Sipping coffee on a slow cold winter morning trying to capture the moments slipping away from my flawed memory.

Pacific Coast Highway
Big Sur River
The Yosemite Valley
Calaveras forest
Lake Tahoe
Muir Woods
San Francisco

I've never experienced such a pure pine scent then walking through the Sierras.
I've never experienced such beauty standing in a valley surrounded by the most wonderful granite.
I've never experienced trees so giant, so old.
And there is always for whatever reason such a special place in my heart for the city of San Francisco.

The in between of grad school. Finished another semester, not yet student teaching. This adventure was everything I wanted and so much more than I could have prepared for.

Those early sunsets.
Waking too early my body set to Eastern time
Catching every gorgeous sunrise with tear filled eyes as the beauty that surrounded me was slowly revealed from the crisp silent snowy campsite

heating up morning coffee using all the interesting camping gear Matt had, working the smoldering ash into our only source of heat before the day's adventure. Resurrection of new birth through the tiny flame climbing the logs edge through pine needles.

Yosemite Valley, I had no idea.
my heart completely stolen from me.
What a special piece on this pale blue dot in space.

Those giant sequoia
Sequoiadendron giganteum
I could cry thinking about them every time
What magnificent living things!!!

Consider standing beside one and comprehending that this tree this three thousand year old tree is alive. If it has vocal chords the stories it could tell, the people, the cultures, the unknown events that have all passed in this living plant's lifetime. I stood beside something that began its life around the same time tradition says David became king of the Israelites. If locations were different David Could have touched the same living tree I now stand beside touching. The same lifetime to a sequoia.

How strange life on this planet truly is.

California what a beautiful place.

I knew I wanted to see some of these trees but I had no idea they would steal the entire trip from my mind. So much absolute beauty, the ocean, the mountains, the rivers, the lake, and above all of it those trees. I want to find a place deep among them a place completely by myself like John A. Nelder in 1875. To spend my short days standing in awe of such ancient beings.

Those trees, those beautiful indescribable trees.

May I get the chance to walk among them once more before I sleep.

18 miles of San Francisco hills and finally the street lights end the hum of traffic fades, forward there is nothing. Darkness, empty. The wind picks up and the sidewalk ends. Steps get larger as the sand forms around each print.

The Pacific Ocean
I turn around to face the city and there is a full super moon above the glow of the city.

The waves erase all other sounds. I turn back towards the Pacific

Freado and I stand completely still and completely silent
"9 years ago tomorrow" Freado says calmly
I stand facing forward confused and patient.

My mom died 9 years ago tomorrow.
She never made it here.
The Pacific Ocean, my mom wanted to but she never did this.

Freado stepped forward, "I have to dip my toes in the ocean."

I stood there the cold December ocean wind whipping past my body
I'm alive
I'm standing, alive on this planet, how many others never got to see the Pacific? How many others never got to see this day?
I won't always be standing

I knew Matt's mother died of cancer, he's talked about it before but on our walk back to the subway station I'd never heard him talk about her so much. I'd never heard him talk about the aftermath. How as a teenager he could hear his father crying alone in his bedroom at night, how his siblings dealt with the loss. Just the other night I had complained to him about my family. How uncomfortable, silent, political, and unemotional my family is. It was relaxing in the strangest way to listen to him talk as we limped with blistered heels and chafed groins up and down the beautiful city of San Francisco.

And here I find myself, in Wauseon again. Sitting between my mom and my aunt feeling anxiety at the Christmas Eve service at the church. Silence in the living room. Why do I feel like this around my own family? If this isn't home where is it?

I want to drive back to Columbus and soak in the tub.
I want to stand in Calaveras until my bones are dust.
Christmas 2016

Josh Garrels - The Light Came Down

12/18/16

12/11/16

Neil deGrasse Tyson - Relativity and the Twin Paradox

I'm 29 now. It's been four years since I got a new license. At midnight when it was officially my birthday something hit me. It occurred to me time, days, years, it's a measurement of distance. Time doesn't actually exist all that exists is gravity and space. Time is only a measurement of distance relative to gravity.

My birthday, all it represents is that on this 'day' the Earth is in the same exact position it was in relation to the sun the moment I was born. Give or take accounting for the slow expansion of the universe and the extra 6 hours and change accounted for on leap day...but as close as we can measure and represent time is only tracking where our position is around the sun. Take me exactly as I am and move me to a place with differing gravity, with differing relation to the speed of light, which again is a measure of distance not time, and I age slower infancy could take twice the 'time' it does on Earth.

Existence is merely gravity and space.
I look at myself in my old license 25 years old...25 complete revolutions around the sun. I think about when I will have to get another new license I'll be 33 years old...four more revolutions around the sun. What happens during those revolutions? Why do our bodies 'age' what is it to age? it's relative to our revolutions around the star in our system. It takes 248 Earth years for Pluto to make one revolution around the Sun. From the year 1768 to 2016 Pluto has made one revolution. One 'year' on Pluto is older than the country I live in. To exist is so strange to me.

What if there are lifeforms that live in a different gravity and space combination that can visit Earth multiple times in their single life but to us each visit is a millennia apart. One 'year' from their home planet is a thousand earth 'years' to us. If they were born at the same exact moment as Christ that being would be two years old while Christ has ascended two millennia ago to us. It's all relative. Is the Earth 10,000 years old or is it 4.543 billion years? I guess it depends on the perspective and measurement of a 'year' from the person claiming. God if out of space and time could simply be beyond gravity. That's all it would take to be outside of time 'omnipresent'

God is love.
Time is gravity.
Power is space.

The film Interstellar is not science 'fiction' it is simply something humans haven't done yet according to my measurement of 'time'

What is wrong with my brain why do I think like this? Sometimes I think life would be easier if I just wanted Netflix and weekend barhopping. What is it to exist?
God, are You real?

James Vincent McMorrow - Get Low

12/02/16

Dear 30 year old Adam,

I've just turned 29. This year started with my second full semester at Ashland. The winter nights were mostly spent studying for school eating ice cream in beanbag chairs watching Lord of the Rings over and over in the attic of the Tibet house and trying to sleep. I've been spending a lot of time with Claire. I'm so thankful for her, she's a great friend. I started running more regularly now that I have a fitbit. My resting heart rate was originally 71. Easter weekend I did another adventure alone camping up in the Porcupine Mountains in the silent gorgeous snow. I spent the Spring trying to find a serious relationship on bumble the dating app. A lot of dates, a lot of flakes, some interested but I wasn't able to pull the trigger and commit, of course. I finally went back to NYC with Brian and Alan like I always said I would. This summer I took three classes at three different schools. In May Bea texted me and told me she was moving to Denver in June. In June we started hanging out again. We spent every second we could together before she left for Denver. We met up half way after she had moved for 2 weeks spend the weekend in an Airbnb it was perfect! I spend the 4th of July in Virginia with Brian and Travis. Then Bea came back to Columbus for a weekend in July. She asked for space and that was the last I'll hear from her. This fall I did my field experience in Forest Park and Harmon Elementary. I'm so excited to become a teacher. When you read this you will hopefully be one!

Things I'm doing now:
Right now I'm about to finish my 4th semester and leave for California. I have an iphone SE its rose gold. I live with Claire Melissa and Travis but this will be our last year on Tibet. I have mixed feeling about that. But as you are reading this you are 30...30...I never really thought this far ahead about my future. I always thought life would be different but here we are. It's been a very fun ride. We are getting it figured out. Anyway I'm not doing much of anything these days. I'm exhausted from school and work but by the time you will read all of this it will all be over! I'm single still and I think I'd like you to have a girlfriend when you're reading this in a year but if not I understand. If anyone understands your singleness believe me, it's me. Don't settle Adam. It's better for us to be alone than to be with someone because of comfort.

Things I hope you're doing:
I hope you are teaching a kindergarten class in Columbus City Schools district. And I hope it is every bit difficult, frustrating, tiring, and beautiful as we have always imagined it being. I hope you have the classroom filled with the kids' art and the rest of the classroom filled with plants. I hope you passed the damn OAE tests and graduated with this 4.0 I'm still clinging to. I hope you're practicing the guitar I did a terrible job practicing and I know 28 year old Adam had the same struggle. As I mentioned I hope you found a girlfriend it would be nice to bring someone home to Wauseon, it might not feel so lonely at the parents' house then. I hope you bought those jars and pebbles like I wanted to last year. This past winter the thought of tracking my time left on year gave me too much anxiety to actually do it but I think I've come to terms with that a bit more this year. I noticed some new wrinkles on my face this year. I also think I've grown more chest hair. This is getting strange. I still feel 22 but I know I'm nearly 30. I hope you still go to the gym now more than ever let's try to keep these abs as long as we can. I hope you're still doing guys night with the dudes once a week. I hope you're finding time to drive to Cincy to visit Brian and Alan. I hope you garden this summer since you'll finally be finished with school. I miss working in the garden so much. There is nothing more rewarding and satisfying than being in that garden. I hope you're planning your first summer adventure after your first school year as a teacher. I wonder if you'll go to Iceland or Machu Picchu first... If you haven't started planning that trip stop reading this letter now and book the flight. Seriously do it right now flip a coin and plan the trip to one of those places. I hope Travis Brian and you still do the fourth of July beach trip I love that we do that. Don't ever let that slip away. Don't be afraid to spend another winter with ice cream and Lord of the Rings those are some very good nights curled up with candles and blankets in the cold. I love great story telling. I hope you're reading again. Tell me you have read more Wendell Berry and some of the books off the 100 greatest novels of all time list. If not again stop what you are doing find the next book you left off at before Grad school and place it on hold at the library now! I hope you've picked your life back up since before Grad school. I think the main things are reading, gardening, and practicing guitar. I hope you're healthy and well. My 20's were a very fun decade filled with learning about the world. I hope your 30's are the same. Never stop exploring, never stop asking, never stop seeking truth. Don't become hard cement stay flexible and open to ideas and lenses.

Things I've learned since turning 28:
This year started off with Bea dating another dude. I learned that my fear of getting hurt and being abandoned will always leave me hurt and abandoned. I tried to impress her and perform for her so she wouldn't abandon me but all that did was exhaust and frustrate myself. She never asked for the fake stuff. She didn't want it. She just wanted me. Another lesson in just how much power time has. Timing truly is everything. We texted in January. She told me she would have stayed in Columbus for me. She told me everything she said in the fall was true. I was her best friend. I was family. She loved me. And I missed that window of time. It's gone. Whatever life we could have had together, marriage, children, grandchildren, that is gone. What a heavy price to pay for wisdom. I think that's how most of life's greatest lessons are learned, at tremendous cost. (I wrote that previous part during lent) Turning 28 really did something to me. I learned I'm ready to grow up. I want a wife and I'm ready to give what it takes. I'm ready to pursue my career. I'm ready to take the next step in what it means to be a human. The next stage the next chapter. Some nights while I'm in the shower I think about what it would feel like to hold my child for the first time and I just start crying. I really want that for my life. I want to be a father. I want to be a husband. I'm learning what is important in life and how tremendous the cost. But after losing the woman I love it's very clear to me that the greater cost would be to never take the risk. I'm learning how to balance growing up with having fun and holding friendships and community together. (I wrote that part in the spring) I've learned that hope is a powerful dangerous thing. Above I can see how truly gone Bea was from my life but in the beautiful mystery of life she came back. As I learned in the winter I am ready to risk for love. It's strange to read that part above because I learned an important lesson from losing Bea but she came back. Now I have the wisdom and the woman I want to live life with. How beautiful. I thought she was gone forever and now this? She said she needs space and after a lot of discussion and reading her astrology sign at Graeter's I need to let go, again. To love is to let go. I need to be picked, chosen. (I wrote that part in the summer) It's amazing looking back at those three snapshots of the year as I wrote in this post. I feel so differently about so many things than I did in the winter, spring, and summer. I'm not sure if I want a wife and children anymore. I know now that I don't want Kelly in my life. It's been an interesting year to say the least. This fall I attempted online dating again but all that happened I ended up hooking up with women. My number went from 1 to 6 now. Kelly, Maya, Ericca, Lauren, Sarah, Elizabeth plus all the other women who I spent nights with but didn't have sex. I think I'm deciding to take a break from dating since I can't seem to commit to any of these women and I can't seem to keep my boundaries. This year I learned a bit more how messed up my family is. I tried to be more social and grow my community but I found opening up to too many people feels uncomfortable and makes me struggle with trust. Another trip around the sun. Have fun dude this life is going by quick try to hold as many of the moments, good and bad, in their time breathe them in and exhale them to make room for more! You're doing great. I love you so much Adam, you're honest, kind, smart, patient and you look good. I'm going to end this letter the same way 28 year old Adam ended the letter for me because it made me smile and it calmed me down. Every day, once a day, give yourself a present. Don’t plan it, don’t wait for it, just let it happen. It could be a new shirt at the men's store, a catnap in your office chair or two cups of good hot black coffee." I love you Adam, everything will be alright. I hope this letter finds you well.

1987 Born
1988 00
1989 01
1990 02
1991 03
1992 04
1993 05
1994 06 Started Grade School
1995 07
1996 08
1997 09
1998 10
1999 11
2000 12
2001 13
2002 14
2003 15
2004 16
2005 17
2006 18 Graduated High School
2007 19
2008 20
2009 21
2010 22 Graduated College
2011 23
2012 24
2013 25
2014 26
2015 27
2016 28

11/24/16

Thanksgiving 2016

Pam
Doug
me

That was it. The firehall thanksgiving is officially dead.

I woke up early this morning to catch the sunrise at Oak Openings in the silence, alone.

It was completely cloudy, not a sign of the sun, but the morning was perfect

Northwest Ohio

my birthplace.

I'm writing right now because I just finished having a stupidly heated conversation with my mom. My dad on the couch in the room but completely silent, never joining in always just silent until he finally stood up and went to bed.

Couch to bed

that's how I will forever remember my dad
Doug was my boss at Carter Lumber, Dad was the man exhausted and silent on the couch until he walked up stairs to go to sleep.

My family, they don't understand me.
I'm raising my voice, I'm arguing, I'm yelling

I feel unheard
I feel misunderstood
I feel insane

Brittany
Pam
Tyler
Doug

Adam

Self sufficiency, money, political views
that's what's most important in this family.

My mom and dad tell me I don't understand how much money things cost
My mom and dad tell me I don't understand the world
They look at me with their eyes through a lens they handed me but I threw away years ago.

I know how they see me, I know how they see the world, I was raised by them, but how can I get them to see what I see? How can I get them to understand I'm different

My dad stands in silence as he turns back before heading down the hall he says, "if you need any money you can always ask us"

Need any money...

money

I want a hug
I want my parents to share a bedroom
I want my family together at the Lyons fire hall
I want my parents to give me an example of intimacy
I want my parents to show me a marriage I want to have
I want them to giggle
I want them to kiss
I want my family to touch
To talk
not about politics, the news, the local church gossip, the reality show
To talk about feelings
dreams

I want a family
not a fiscally responsible group of business partners.

Doug must have been out all night last night
this morning while I was making the coffee to catch the sunrise my mom didn't know when he got home of course they sleep in different rooms, they live different lives and I hear her harsh voice of reproach and I hear his meek low mumble of an apology, then silence, the most emotional interaction I'll witness between the two.

After my shouting match with my mother as she talked down to me on the near eve of my 29th birthday,
My parents both shuffle up to their separate bedrooms, the same ones I've seen them go to separately for the past 23 years of my life in this house.

I look at my phone
texts from several different women
A date with one schedules for tomorrow now
a date with another scheduled for Saturday
risky pics sent from other women through snapchat and text

I finally see it.
The contrast of my families lack of intimacy and my phone filled with hallow surface intimacy and I sit her at my parents' computer putting it all together.

I don't know how to be intimate, vulnerable. The closest I came was with Kelly but it proved to be fickle on her end.
I'm incapable of intimacy.
I'll be 29 next Friday
Not a girlfriend in sight with a date with a different girl lines up every weekend for months now.

I feed myself these fake interactions of intimacy because I've never experienced the real thing.

Maybe the real thing doesn't exist.
My brother's wife tells me she wants to sell their other car rather than hold it in case mine breaks while I'm unemployed during student teaching.
I must be self-sufficient
My mom can't understand why I think people should care about other humans simply because they exist.
How much more should we as family care about each other?
Offering hospitality, generosity, affection, support, and kindness

But I get political debates
I get talked down to
I get lectures about how the world is all about money
I just want to get in my car and drive, Drive past the forests of the midwest, through the great plains, over the mountains drive, keep driving until I reach the ocean and I just want to scream.

I want to throw my money over the edge, I want to push my car off a cliff I don't want stuff, I don't want to see the world that way
I want to grab a woman pull her close, I want to feel how she grabs my arms, she can't resist kissing me, I want to hear her words how she enjoys my body as her foreign hands feel my chest and abs I want her fingers through my hair I just want intimacy, vulnerability

I don't know maybe God isn't real.
If God isn't real love certainly isn't.
If love isn't real then my parents are right about everything
Donald Trump will be a great president
and my nights with strangers are as real as it gets
marriage is a religious sham

FFFFFFUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCKKKKKKK
From the edge of the west coast all the way until the sound waves of my voice either curve with the earth or press past the atmosphere and float out into the infinite nothingness of space

All I want is a community of people, I don't care black, red, white, yellow, brown, straight, gay, non-binary, atheist, Muslim I just want a community of people who love and care about each of us because we exist. That's it, not because we are self sufficient, not because we are profitable, not because we are beautiful, because we...are.

I want a woman to give myself to, all of me, and I want all of her, the ugly stuff, the unimportant stuff, and I want to share life together

I want children, I want to teach them fly fishing in Montana, I want to work beside them in our garden, I want to hold them every night, I want to read to them, teach them words, and trees. I want to pick them up when they fall and I want them to know that they have a right to a place in this planet simply because they are.

I want all of these things
but I don't have any of it.
I have a family that is silent and self sufficient.
I have a Thanksgiving apart
I have dozens of women in my unread texts

This morning as I stood in the middle of those pines stretched up towards the sky, before any of this arguing and family stuff happened

I thought to myself, why is this so comfortable? Why am I ok to be in this moment without someone else. I want to share my life with someone then why do I love this solitude. I want to be uncomfortable alone. I want to want community. I want to need to share and bump elbows with others around me. I want a wife. But I don't think I truly do. Because here I am in these trees sipping my coffee and I realize my best memories in my life were adventures I took alone.

I hate that.

I want to need someone. I want to need friends around me to share places of beauty or pieces of poetry or songs that strike something within me.

But I keep it all in.
I only let it out weekly in this blog and even this blog is completely hidden from everyone who knows me and even from strangers on the internet.

I keep it all in.

vulnerability, intimacy, community

My heart deeply, deeply wants all of these things
but I don't know anything about them. I don't even know how to hug my parents comfortably.
I don't even know my parents.
My parents don't know me.

I don't want my parents' marriage
I don't want my brother's marriage
I don't want their lives
I don't want their lens

but how do I do it my own way?
What the fuck am I doing?
I'm almost 30.
I'm 1/3 the way done with my life and that's if cancer, car crash, or murder don't steal more of my time.
what am I doing?
I feel like I've been in my cocoon too long
But I don't see being a butterfly happening anytime soon
Is it okay to spend life as a cocoon?
I feel so lost.
God, are You real?

Radical Face - Always Gold

11/20/16

I don't have any thoughts right now. I'm exhausted.
2016 the year of grad school.
I haven't read a book in over a year now.
I haven't had a homework free week in a year also.
This week I earned my 13th A in the program. Two more classes this semester and all that's left is student teaching in the Spring.
45 graduate level credit hours in 4 straight semesters while working 40 hours a week.
4.0
This has been such a brutal year.
I have written so many papers so many lesson plans and so many reflections I don't even want to write on here right now.

Christmas break will be spend studying for the OAE assessment of professional knowledge and the content knowledge assessment to obtain my licensure. I still will not be able to rest until May of 2017. July 2015 to May 2017, nonstop.

I can do this.
Just a little bit longer.
I just need to make it to May.

The Avett Brothers - Head Full Of Doubt/Road Full Of Promise

11/13/16

One of the peculiarities of the white race's presence in America is how little intention has been
applied to it. As a people, wherever we have been, we have never really intended to be. The
continent is said to have been discovered by an Italian who was on his way to India. The earliest
explorers were looking for gold, which was, after an early streak of luck in Mexico, always
somewhere farther on. Conquests and foundings were incidental to this search—which did not,
and could not, end until the continent was finally laid open in an orgy of gold seeking in the
middle of the last century. Once the unknown of geography was mapped, the industrial
marketplace became the new frontier, and we continued, with largely the same motives and with
increasing haste and anxiety, to displace ourselves—no longer with unity of direction, like a
migrant flock, but like the refugees from a broken ant hill. In our own time we have invaded
foreign lands and the moon with the high-toned patriotism of the conquistadors, and with the
same mixture of fantasy and avarice.

That is too simply put. It is substantially true, however, as a description of the dominant
tendency in American history. The temptation, once that has been said, is to ascend altogether
into rhetoric and inveigh equally against all our forebears and all present holders of office. To be
just, however, it is necessary to remember that there has been another tendency: the tendency to
stay put, to say, "No farther. This is the place." So far, this has been the weaker tendency, less
glamorous, certainly less successful. It is also the older of these tendencies, having been the
dominant one among the Indians.

The Indians did, of course, experience movements of population, but in general their relation to
place was based upon old usage and association, upon inherited memory, tradition, veneration.
The land was their homeland. The first and greatest American revolution, which has never been
superseded, was the coming of people who did not look upon the land as a homeland. But there
were always those among the newcomers who saw that they had come to a good place and who
saw its domestic possibilities. Very early, for instance, there were men who wished to establish
agricultural settlements rather than quest for gold or exploit the Indian trade. Later, we know that
every advance of the frontier left behind families and communities who intended to remain and
prosper where they were.

But we know also that these intentions have been almost systematically overthrown. Generation
after generation, those who intended to remain and prosper where they were have been
dispossessed and driven out, or subverted and exploited where they were, by those who were
carrying out some version of the search for El Dorado. Time after time, in place after place, these
conquerors have fragmented and demolished traditional communities, the beginnings of
domestic cultures. They have always said that what they destroyed was outdated, provincial, and
contemptible. And with alarming frequency they have been believed and trusted by their victims,
especially when their victims were other white people.

...Today, the most numerous heirs of the farmers of Lexington and Concord are
the little groups scattered all over the country whose names begin with "Save": Save Our Land,
Save the Valley, Save Our Mountains, Save Our Streams, Save Our Farmland. As so often before,
these are designated victims—people without official sanction, often without official
friends, who are struggling to preserve their places, their values, and their lives as they know
them and prefer to live them against the agencies of their own government which are using their
own tax moneys against them.

...I am talking about the idea that as many as possible should share in the ownership of the land and thus be bound to it by economic interest, by the investment of love and work, by family loyalty, by memory and tradition.

The old idea is still full of promise. It is potent with healing and with health. It has the power to turn each person away from the bigtime promising and planning of the government, to confront in himself, in the immediacy of his own circumstances and whereabouts, the question of what methods and ways are best. It proposes an economy of necessities rather than an economy based upon anxiety, fantasy, luxury, and idle wishing. It proposes the independent, free-standing citizenry that Jefferson thought to be the surest safeguard of democratic liberty. And perhaps most important of all, it proposes an agriculture based upon intensive work, local energies, care, and long-living communities—that is, to state the matter from a consumer's point of view: a dependable, long-term food supply.

-The Unsettling of America

To the white man America has only ever been viewed as resources. I keep watching what is happening in Dakota. I keep thinking about the natives, the nations who have never seen this land as anything but home. I want to fight for that. I want to protect that. How rare and how valuable a perspective in this world especially in this country. How I want to get in my car for another road trip across the country grab my sleeping bag and sand beside these people.

"The first and greatest American revolution, which has never been superseded, was the coming of people who did not look upon the land as a homeland." This revolution is still being fought today. We are exactly as our ancestors.

We will never be able to see the land the way indigenous people groups see the land so long as we see no value in rooting ourselves in our place our community.

I keep thinking what makes this land, this water so important to the Native Americas? Why can't we as a nation and our government see what they see.

"the tendency to stay put, to say, "No farther. This is the place."" Americans never stay put. We never invest. We move, we move where their might be gold. We move where their might be fur trading, we move where there might be jobs, we move to the hip sexy city of the moment. We don't give a fuck about a place. Land isn't hope its a resource it's something to be used for luxury, recreation, and entertainment.

Let's flood the beach front property, lets crowd and pollute the oceans but look how tan we are look how we spend our weekends at the beach relaxing.

Let's flood the mountain towns, lets level the hills to make room for more parking, more campsites. Let's destroy the wildlife pushing it back but look how interesting our instagrams are look how we send our weekends in the wilderness free.

What cost are we paying for our selfish desires for our one life. We live in a yolo culture thinking only of our own comfort our own pleasures, yes we may have to level another forest but more people want to uproot leave their land for a more sexy zip code.

What would it be like to stay placed? To invest in a land?

Homeland is where our fathers are buried.
It's where our parents sheltered us.
It's where we learned to respect the very land we need so that both can continue to exist.

This land, this river has been sacred and important to this people group LONG before Europeans knew this part of the world even existed. This land and this river could very well have been worshiped and respected longer than the Pyramids have stood. Longer than the Jews celebrating Passover. Longer than American celebrate the 4th of July.

How ancient, how precious this place is to these people.
How terrible a thought it could be destroyed in the name of progress and comfort.
So that we could have cheap transportation out to these vacation wilderness areas we are destroying to visit.

Ohio is home. I know it isn't where my ancestors are originally from. I know the original nations of this land have been pushed off long ago. But this is where I was born. It's where my grandfather is buried. To move to another place, to again continue the cycle of uprooting would be to press reset on the opportunity to love and worship a place, land the way these protesters do. To one day worship and fight for a piece of earth how beautiful and how valuable a cause. What would our planet, our culture look like if we were all as placed, as dependent on our land as these people?

It's worth fighting for and it's worth deepening my roots for.
Ohio is home.

Everything - Ben Howard

11/06/16

Daylight Saving Time ended last night.
We are now beginning the hardest time of the year for me.
I think Seasonal affective disorder is a very real thing.
I need the sun, it does something to me.
If that means my life is impacted by that star in space, then so be it
astrology has a leg to stand on I suppose.

There was a moment last week where I thought I had lost my wallet. I've only lost my wallet once in my life that was my senior year of college drunk after the mirror lake jump.

This time when I realized it, I called the bars I had been to. I checked all the pants and places in my house. I started to think about the things in my wallet, how would I replace them? How do I cancel all my cards? Do I ever remember half the stuff in my wallet?

I'd have to buy a new wallet, I think this is the only wallet I've ever owned...

Then I found it in my car right before I started to drive downtown.

I literally picked it up and kissed my wallet.
I was so happy to have it.

Then I started thinking how strange that feeling was.

For the past 10 years and more I've woken up with my wallet but I never even consider to kiss it.

And logically the same thing happened this day. My wallet was safely in my car where I sometimes keep it.

But why was I happier to see it this time? Why did I kiss my wallet? I never do that.

I thought it was lost but now it was found.

My mind can't help but think about the parable of the prodigal father.

That moment running to his son and kissing him throwing rings and robes on the guy.

Why not throw a party for the older brother who was never lost?
Why not wake up every morning and kiss my wallet for still being there?

The value and importance of my wallet didn't change. There wasn't anything more important in it when it wasn't around. But it's value that has always existed was brought to my consciousness it was in the forefront of my mind.

and I kissed it.
and it turned my day into a very good one.

How many things in my life right now do I have that if I lost them I would be devastated
and I don't kiss them every day.

My friends,
My job,
My sight,
My health

I have so many things that are so much more important than a replaceable wallet filled with material stuff.
No kiss, no sigh of relief when it is still there, no celebration, no fatted calf.

How strange.
Yes I am thankful to be alive, yes it is rare and all that but it isn't until I total my car and walk away from it that I even actually consider the fucking gift of being alive one more day truly is.

I don't like that.
How do I live with gratitude.
Real gratitude.
How do I keep the feeling when I find my little wallet alive day in and day out?

This is why people look back on their lives and have so much regret and wasted time.
Why did I watch every episode of that show on netflix?
Why did I go to bed early?
Why did I stay at that job?
Why did I not take that risk?

How do we live with the awareness that we are each minute closer to the end of our lives?
Everyone I know will die, and I don't know when.

Anyway, I'm glad I found my wallet.

Bon Iver - 33 "GOD"

10/30/16

I can't commit to any of these women.
My trust is fucked.
I don't even feel a desire for anything more than surface shit.

I don't know, I want a gf but it makes me sick thinking about it.
I don't even know what I'm looking for.
What do I want in a gf?
What sort of characteristics?
Something fun
Something deep
Something independent

ugh fuck dating, fuck relationships.

Why don't I want this shit anymore?
I want to want it but the thought of making one of these women my gf gives me anxiety.

It's easy to love once the seed has grown
But how the fuck do you move the seed from palm to soil?

It's so much easier like this.
I'm in control of my life.
I go where I want.
I do what I want.
I don't have to worry about not helping someone move.
I don't have to worry about not texting back.

Being single has always been so easy for me.
Long term relationships always start to feel so confining.

I want one because I think it would be good for my character. It would be good for me to have someone else to consider, to care about. But it feels impossible to stir up enough feelings for someone to want that.

What are the benefits to a relationship?

Intimacy seems like more harm than good in my experience.
Let someone see the ugly in me, and for what?
Open up, grow together, why?
To one day have them selfishly leave once they have chewed me up and spit me out?

Fuck that.

Do I only want a relationship because it's what people do? It's the next step in growing up?
It feels so restricting.
Give myself to someone slowly lose who I am become some sort of mix of the two of us.

I like who I am.
I don't want someone to change me. I don't want to change someone.

I'm so afraid I'm going to one day be this single 40 something so stubborn and set in my ways because I didn't let anyone in my life to challenge and push me to grow.

But I'm also afraid I'm going to one day be this married 40 something so miserable and so modified by the selfless giving required of marriage that all my passions and desires for this one life are snuffed out and I come home to my basic house with my basic family talking about basic bullshit.

Again I feel like Mr. Nobody paralyzed by the two paths.

I think the only way I find peace is through the one thing I vowed to never do in my life.
Divorce.
Divorce feels like this safety lever I could pull in time to salvage the dying flame of passions for this life.

But I don't want to have an ex wife.
I don't want some woman walking the Earth who got to have all of me only to move on and replace me.
I don't want to build something and quit, leaving this abandoned construction sight exposed scaffolding and stacks of bricks never laid.

I'm basically a month away from 29 and I'm in the same place I was at 19.

I want to be a husband
But I can't get fucking married
I don't want to be divorced
but I need some sort of escape plan just in case

This fucking tension
This one life is ending each day and I stand paralyzed trying to figure out how the fuck I want to spend this rare magnificent temporary existence on Earth.

What should I do God?
Should I just date one of these women and the feelings and shit will grow the more time we spend together?
Or should I stay free, stay single just keep having fun with women I meet.

What is the right path?
Is there a right path?

Is marriage that great?
Is divorce that bad?


At least I found what the fuck I want to do with my life career-wise in my twenties, they weren't a total waste of time. I was able to make one life commitment. Maybe in my 30's I'll be able to decide this shit.

My trust is fucked.
I want to spend sometime over the ocean in the Alpine range. I can't wait for my first summer off after teaching. This life is so fucking short. I want to wwoof for a month in Montana. Rest my brain from homework and textbooks and put this body to work while it still functions.

Starboy - The Weeknd ft. Daft Punk

10/23/16

Last weekend makes
three women in four months.
What am I doing?

But I had to know. I had to put myself out there again to be vulnerable with someone else to see if the way it felt with her was the real thing or just how I feel intimate with anyone.

Now I know. Sometimes I'm afraid of myself. I'm afraid of what I'm capable of. The choices I can make and the irreversible reality of this single quick life.

Intimacy
Sex
Vulnerability

It's such a strange thing. It's strange how two people can experience the same event and yet interpret and process completely differently.

I'm glad we as humans have something like sex.
What would our world look like if we couldn't express ourselves in this way?

What would our music, our art, our poetry, our most beautiful expressions manifest themselves as without such a vulnerable and wonderful experience?

Freedom is what makes everything in this life so precious, so amazing.

With freedom sex has the ability to become this expression of the deepest love, the intimate knowing, and accepting of another person and the trust that they know you and are equally authentic with you.

Sex through freedom has the ability to be a surfacing sport engaged by two strangers drunk after a night out.

It's the same action, and yet, it is completely different.
How can the same thing be different?

scientists observe the natural world, they try to hard to box everything up and understand our reality. They believe that through understanding and labeling we humans can gain superiority over this world.

But it all feels like a delusion we all want to buy into because it makes us feel safe.

But sex is not so easily nailed down. Like everything in this life, thanks to freedom there is no black and white.

Rape and Honeymoon are not the same thing, though the "definition" the "classification" may only see black and white.

Hook up and Making love are not the same.

But this is where it become so unique.

What if one views the same action as making love while the other party views it as a mere hook up?
What if one person's hook up is another's rape?

What if one person loves the other and the other feels in that moment strongly but it is a fleeting temporary momentary feeling?

Who's perspective is right? Are they both right? If so are their two realities we live in on the same planet? And if two people can live in separate realities then how many realities are there?

Do we each live in our own worlds? Is there ever a way to truly connect with another person's reality?

A knowing of an other in the purest sense of the word?

If it's possible, it's impossible to ever truly know if it's happening.

We can trust what the other says, we can experience intimacy together but at the end of the day there is no way to know if this person is truly in your reality with you or merely deceiving you for their own reality.

Broccoli - Big Baby D.R.A.M. feat. Lil Yachty

10/16/16

Tomorrow I start at the other elementary school. I already feel so much pressure and stress as it is.
Waking up at 6:15 every morning working until 6pm homework, study, reading, class until 10pm Try to eat something and wash my hair early enough to get enough sleep before I have to wake up at 6am again.

Have I become my father?

I vowed to never go back to school.
I vowed to find a job I didn't have to take home with me.
I vowed to never work a Saturday again.

Here I am waking up almost as early as he does.
Working myself to exhaustion and falling asleep.

My dad asleep on the couch with the TV on.
That's how I will always remember him in my childhood.

I will not be that.

Your children need your presence more than your presents.
-Jesse Jackson

Now I know why teachers need summers off. They need time to emotionally recharge as they constantly pour out and empty themselves of their patience, understanding, and modeling calm behavior.

I've been teaching emotionally unregulated preschoolers for 3 and a half years now. No summer break, no snow days. Straight through. And now I'm about to work in three different classrooms each with their own children with their own needs. I have to be that representative of trust, consistency, and reliability while running on an empty tank already.

8 weeks until California.
I can do this.
I can push through this semester.
I've been pushing through for the past year.
No summer break from classes.
No break from work.
Still maintaining that 4.0

Teaching is such an emotional drain
But it's greatest weakness is its strength
Teaching is such an emotional reward

Take chances, make mistakes, get messy
-Miss Frizzle

In order the cultivate a climate where children feel safe enough and free enough to take chances and fail teachers must put themselves out there emotionally. We cannot be that stone cold stern robot authoritarian. Principals love the classroom management results of silent sitting children. But the classroom loses it's power and ability to be a place of learning. It becomes a prison, enslaved by the schedule and the irritation of adults who's ears detest loud noises.

Sorry God I went off an a tangent.

Help me with time management. Help me balance school, work. social, and self care.
Help me get through these 8 weeks.

Help me survive til California.

What a privilege and a luxury to get the opportunity to teach children. Please don't let this purpose be taken from me.

After 28 years I've finally found a job worth tethering to my identity. I've finally found a job worth spending thousands of dollars in school. I've finally found a job that gives me life during the day.

Help me survive school.

Bob Dylan - Hurricane

10/09/16

do not speak to me of martyrdom,
of men who die to be remembered
on some parish day.
i don’t believe in dying
though, I too shall die.
and violets like castanets
will echo me.
-Malcolm by Sonia Sanchez

And one morning while in the woods I stumbled
suddenly upon the thing,
Stumbled upon it in a grassy clearing guarded by scaly
oaks and elms
And the sooty details of the scene rose, thrusting
themselves between the world and me....

There was a design of white bones slumbering forgottenly
upon a cushion of ashes.
There was a charred stump of a sapling pointing a blunt
finger accusingly at the sky.
There were torn tree limbs, tiny veins of burnt leaves, and
a scorched coil of greasy hemp;
A vacant shoe, an empty tie, a ripped shirt, a lonely hat,
and a pair of trousers stiff with black blood.
And upon the trampled grass were buttons, dead matches,
butt-ends of cigars and cigarettes, peanut shells, a
drained gin-flask, and a whore's lipstick;
Scattered traces of tar, restless arrays of feathers, and the
lingering smell of gasoline.
And through the morning air the sun poured yellow
surprise into the eye sockets of the stony skull....

And while I stood my mind was frozen within cold pity
for the life that was gone.
The ground gripped my feet and my heart was circled by
icy walls of fear--
The sun died in the sky; a night wind muttered in the
grass and fumbled the leaves in the trees; the woods
poured forth the hungry yelping of hounds; the
darkness screamed with thirsty voices; and the witnesses rose and lived:
The dry bones stirred, rattled, lifted, melting themselves
into my bones.
The grey ashes formed flesh firm and black, entering into
my flesh.

The gin-flask passed from mouth to mouth, cigars and
cigarettes glowed, the whore smeared lipstick red
upon her lips,
And a thousand faces swirled around me, clamoring that
my life be burned....

And then they had me, stripped me, battering my teeth
into my throat till I swallowed my own blood.
My voice was drowned in the roar of their voices, and my
black wet body slipped and rolled in their hands as
they bound me to the sapling.
And my skin clung to the bubbling hot tar, falling from
me in limp patches.
And the down and quills of the white feathers sank into
my raw flesh, and I moaned in my agony.
Then my blood was cooled mercifully, cooled by a
baptism of gasoline.
And in a blaze of red I leaped to the sky as pain rose like water, boiling my limbs
Panting, begging I clutched childlike, clutched to the hot
sides of death.
Now I am dry bones and my face a stony skull staring in
yellow surprise at the sun....
-Between the World and Me by Richard Wright

10/02/16

Loyal
I dream of my life being the personification of hope but the more I think about it the more I find the word loyal resting at the bottom of my brain.

Loyal
loyal to my friends
loyal to Ohio
loyal to my religion
loyal to my traditions
loyal to my exs

I remember that summer day eating Graeters on the bench together as she read my astrological sign.
Loyal
That's when the seed was planted. Looking through my story with the lens of loyalty

The boulder in the middle of the river, as time flows by, as life continues the rock remains. The leaves change color, the water freezes, the clouds blow past the rock stays there. Reliable, faithful, consistent.

Roots deep in my place. investment, knowing, home.

What good are all the adventures if there is no place to return home?

In exactly two months I'll be 29 years old.

I suppose my strength is my weakness

my ability to never give up on something
my ability to never commit to anything

Commitment from a loyal man can be a dangerous thing to himself.

Words don't mean as much to people as they do to me.
People change, people go with the flow of the river.

Travis always says, if you aren't growing, you're dying.
I hate that capitalistic business mentality of MORE MORE MORE

but my feelings on the issue don't change the truth of his words.

If we stand still, it is a form of moving backwards.

There is only forward.

My whole life I've always wanted to get married. I've wanted to have a wife I could make smile every morning and kiss every night. A wife to stand next to as we explore the world, a wife to know, a picture on my desk. I've always wanted children. To be defined as a father, a grandfather.

But maybe I don't want that anymore.
Maybe I can't anymore.

I've only loved two women, both of them abandoned me for other things.
What is that?
eight years with one
four years with the other

When love and trust are gone. I guess this is moving on

loyal.

I don't know if I want a wife.
I don't know if I want to trust like that again.

Sure sex is fun
and having someone to experience life with is great

but maybe marriage isn't for me.

Even if I happen to find someone I am willing to give myself to again, what will the result be?
My brother's marriage?
My parents'?

horrible fake engagement photos, blood diamonds, thousand dollar cakes, dresses for only one night, weddings set at some vintage farmhouse, Edison bulbs, and outside weddings, it's all so insincere and trendy.

Thinking about going to a jeweler makes me sick to my stomach
Thinking about scheduling our over priced white privilege engagement photos to show off for likes and comments online makes me want to barf.

I don't know, I need to let my brain process this more.

Do the stars determine the kind of man I am? Loyal and afraid of commitment?

Blind Pilot - The Story I Heard

09/25/16

Pigeon Superstition


I watched Mr. Nobody after Amorelle talked about it.

Choices are always so difficult.
How can anyone know if they made the best, or even the right choice?

Sometimes I wonder, if I could live two lives, walk two paths, which one would I consider the better?

Or would whichever alternate universe I come from say that that one was the best?

People always say stuff like, "I'm glad I did (fill in the blank) because it got me where I am today" Or "Because it made me who I am today"

But I've always hated that idea because all you know of yourself is the "who you are today" What about the alternative path who you are?

What if that version is smarter? healthier? happier? richer? better relationships with people around them? impacting the world?

You wouldn't know. In college I remember hearing everyone at parties talk like this.
I wanted to go to (fill in other college) but if I hadn't gone to (current college I'm visiting) then I wouldn't be who I am today.

I never said anything I silently nodded completely confused.

Mr. Nobody illustrates this idea to a degree. The film focuses mainly on the protagonists love life and how choices impact who he ends up with. I wish rather than show some weird elderly version of Letto they would have focused more on the paths of his life.

Which career did he like better?
Which life was he happiest in?
Which marriage was the best?
Which had the most friends?

Anyway I think about this every now and then. That's what spurred Amorelle's recommendation.

28 year old Adam
What if I stayed in Wauseon, who would I be in this moment, would I vote for Trump?
What if I moved to Indiana and married Whitney, who would I be?
What if I stayed working in the law firm, would I own a house right now? How much more money would I have?
What if I got a woman pregnant, What kind of father would I be?
What if I ended up going to Tanzania when I was 24 like I wanted?
What if I pursued teaching as an 18 year old straight out of high school?

"What if"

Like the white waters of West Virginia, time moves forward, only forward.

My first instinct is to say if I walked any other path, then I wouldn't be who I am but that again is only for lack of comprehending who my other options of being are.

After everything went down this summer Ericca told me I need to strengthen my yang. In Chinese culture the yin is the introverted life the yang the extroverted when we are out of balance we need to strengthen the other. Countless hours locked in my room working on school work grew my yin created an imbalance. This past month I've been more out going and social than I have ever been since maybe high school.

It's been working, I feel more balanced and healthy. But that was before this semester started. Now I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread. I can't work full time, school full time, friends in the free time, and have time for self care.

Friendships are strange, we create them, we invite people into our lives, and at the same time they invite us into theirs. But once that transaction occurs, this stranger is now hurt or impacted by the way you live your life.

Everything is all so connected. Like Amorelle's thesis... The Way Things Hold Each Other.

We as humans are all so connected and these connections, these threads are so fragile.

No matter which action or inaction we take it impacts these connections, this web.

Here I am opening friendships, finding myself stretched and attempting to focus on school and in so doing, I am hurting those around me.

My one and only path in this reality.

The 1975 - If I Believe You

09/18/16

Spent another night having a conversation with Amorelle this week.

Every time we hang out she gives me so much to think about.
It's great to have someone in my life I can talk to who both understand and values the deeper core meanings and reasons behind the things we do.

It's refreshing to know there are other people out there who care, and care deeply about the why to everything.

I told her I think about why knowing and being known is some important to us as humans.
She said she's had the same thought. It was refreshing to hear the same thought from a different perspective.

I opened up more than I usually do with people allowing the thread of the things I do to be pulled a bit further down the line than normal.

But she feels like not only a safe place to express these things but a person who understands or knows I guess.

I told her how I want my life to be the personification of hope.
That hope is something that deeply both moves me and interests me.
She said the same about her art.

But then she said something I hadn't considered before.

She talked about how we are trying to express different types of hope.

Different types of hope, it's not something I'd considered before.

If there are different types of love, why can't their be different types of hope.

What are we saying when we say hope?

She said my type of hope is a growing.
I like that.
I want to be a teacher who gardens.
Both focus heavily on growth, on the hope of potential.

I've never been able to figure out exactly what the word hope means.
What's the difference between
wish
hope
faith
belief
Everyone uses these terms so interchangeably.

She talked a bit more about her work, I always enjoy listening to both the way and the why behind her art. I've never heard anyone talk about things the way she does.

Like the time we saw the deer in the cemetery, she said you're never more sure of what's beneath your feet than when you're in a cemetery. It made me think about how important it is to know what's beneath the topsoil as beings who work the land beneath us to cultivate nourishment.

The deer in the cemetery meant something different to me.

It was an earth stopping reminder that time and life moves forward, no matter what this life, the one I am living right now, it is ending, one day at a time. Once this life is finished, and it will be very soon, that will be the end of my story. No new chapter, no new book, no sequel or prequel, that will be the completion of my story in this reality.

The deer stepping gracefully across an old cemetery, the unconscious life in a location that meant something to loved ones who too have passed.

The reminder of our battle against nature will forever be a losing one, and that makes me smile. No matter who those people beneath our feet once were they are now fertilizer for the grass the living deer now grazes on for this day.

And life. goes. on.

God I ask for more late night talks on Amorelle's porch with warm cups of tea and raccoons climbing gutters next door.

Now if I'm walking through the rain
And I hear you call my name
I will break into a run without a pause
And if your love laughs at your dreams
Well it's not as bad as it seems
Either way one of them has got to go
And if you take of my soul
You can still leave it whole
With the pieces of your own you leave behind

The Avett Brothers - Salvation Song

09/11/16

I am a part of all that I have met
-Ulysses by Alfred Lord Tennyson

The bell rang in the hallway the kids filed into the classroom placing their book bags on hooks and sitting at their shared tables. Then he walked in last.

A photo posted by Adam🌱 (@zmorris93) on Aug 3, 2015 at 8:20pm PDT

A photo posted by Adam🌱 (@zmorris93) on Feb 10, 2016 at 11:52am PST

We both couldn't believe our eyes. He stopped took one look at me and covered his face. I almost cried. Jalante, I've known him since he was two and now my first day in a kindergarten class and he is one of my students.

I'm overwhelmed. I am so grateful to have to opportunity to teach and learn in a kindergarten class in a Columbus City School. I love this city. What were the odds I would end up in the kindergarten class of one of my favorite kids?! This first week has been so perfect. I love hearing my name called Mr. Schuch, and I love slowly watching the relationship already start to form. Asking if I will sit by them during their work. Randomly hugging me then sitting back down at circle time. The small classroom with the supply shelves stacked to the ceiling the old one story brick school building, the lack of air conditioning and that elementary school building smell.

It reminds me so much of Elm Street Elementary where I went to school before it was torn down.

I wish I could sit here and put in to words how I felt this past week being in the classroom. I want to remember this first experience. I want to remember when I feel burned out, when I get caught up in the teacher gossip and complaining, when I get frustrated at administration. I want to remember this beginning. This feeling of joy and this eagerness to get my own class next fall.

But I can't put my finger on it. I can't find the words. None of the ones I know touch on this week. If I tried I feel like it would only be a half truth, what's inside of me would slip through the pin.

My whole life I didn't think I could find a job that I'd love. I thought work was simply something you do to make money for the things you really want out of life. But damn being in these elementary classrooms watching their faces when they finally get how to spell blue. I don't know why but it's the best. When they remember to put their name in pencil at the top of their page and hold up their accomplishment with the biggest grin on their face. It makes my heart swell and I want to cry.

Why do I always want to cry so much? It's just teaching millions of people do it every day and countless have done it through history. But I like it. I love the patience it teaches me. I love the hope it cultivates inside me. I love the pressure and the performance it asks of me. I want to be the best damn kindergarten teacher this country has ever had. I want my small roasting classroom in an old building with plants in the windows and papers all over the tables and desks. And I want to sing songs, write names, and explore this incredible world with a class each fall until spring.

Thank you God.

I am a part of all that I have met
-Ulysses by Alfred Lord Tennyson

Passenger - Things that stop you dreaming

09/04/16

I want you to be mine again baby
I know my lifestyle is driving you crazy
I cannot see myself without you
We call them fans though, girl you know how we do
I go out of my way to please you
I go out of my way to see you
And I want you to be mine again baby
I know my lifestyle is driving you crazy
But, I cannot see myself without you
We call them fans though, girl you know how we do
I go out of my way to please you
I go out of the way to see you
I ain’t playing no games, I need you

Charlie Puth - We Don't Talk Anymore

08/28/16

Last week my number went from one, to two.

"I cannot rest from travel: I will drink
Life to the lees: All times I have enjoy'd
Greatly, have suffer'd greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone, on shore, and when
Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyades
Vext the dim sea: I am become a name..."
-Ulysses by Alfred Lord Tennyson

The moon as big as I'd ever seen it tucked inside the clouds like a sleeping bag hanging behind the jagged silhouettes of the pines above the mountains.

West Virginia

driving in the night to reach the cabin get away before the next days wrestling match with the river.

Pulling on to Jamie and Linda's land unpacking and setting up my tent in the dark.

Methodically and systematically connecting the tent poles, threading them through the eyes of the shapeless pile of cloth, slowly it begins to take shape, my bedroom for the night. I clip on the rain cover and zip myself inside.

Stars as bright as they can get the moon so bright it almost feels like day. The bugs making their sounds for purpose and reason I don't know, they join in the chorus of their ancestors. Entire communities, universes above my tent on leaves, unnoticed.

The morning comes, as it always does. I sit up and begin to come back to life. There is no better morning than waking in a tent. I pull and flick the walls of my tent as I watch the drops of last nights rain slide down the sides of the rain cover. Water in this small amount these tiny peaceful drops it seems so harmless, so calm.

I unzip stand up and greet the day. I can already smell the coffee from the cabin and the breakfast isn't far behind.

The clang of tin cups the steam of the coffee dancing like a genie out of the rim.

I sit among the native West Virginia crowd, these people have been down this river more times than I could imagine, They know every rock, every bend, every rapid. They light up their pipes and roll their joints for the days trip down the river.

I absolutely love this morning. These are a people well rooted in their place. They have a love and a respect for that river I will never know. The river gives them memories, entertainment, beauty, it's a gathering place, it's a story generator. It is their river and it's beautiful to be among this crowd listening and joining in on the jokes.

We load up the coolers of beer and lunch as we jump in and take our positions in the raft. The sun is hot on my skin and the life vest draws the sweat from the pours of my body down the back of my spine. The splash and slosh of the paddles bring the cool refreshing river water to me.

Surrounded by beauty. Trees on either side of me as far as my eyes can relay the message back to my brain, This river, what nothing but water and time can do to a place, it's magnificent. The unique and original twists and turns of the river form a landscape too beautiful for words. Only overwhelming 'ah's can accurately describe how my eyes make my heart feel.

"give me two forward"

Jamie hollers out as our bodies move forward and back with forcing the oars through the gentle river current.

We approach our first rapid, the white water churns and kicks against the rocks and bends on the river. My heart begins to pick up I feel my mouth begin to grin and I find myself excited, I grip my paddle lean forward anxious for my commands. I want to feel the strength of this river. I want to feel the power of nature. So often have we built our cities, our lives in these safe zones. We have killed all the wolves, pushed back all the bears, destroyed the homes of all the lions, We have made this country safe. But here is a timeless reminder of what it means to live on this planet. What it means to be human. Here is raging white water, there is no guarantee of safety, there is no highway paved through the river to make it flat and even, no this is God's creation in all of its beauty and all of its might. We can experience its strength but if we do not respect it or if we find ourselves thinking we are above danger or death reality will come tumbling upon us pinning my body beneath rocks denying my lungs the next breath they so desperately need in order for my existence to prolong upon this rock flying through space.

My mind flashes back five years ago to my first experience on this river, I remember the fear, the anxiety the uncertainty in my own self.

Now I find myself with a big smile on my face as we dip into the boiling pot of white water. Those tiny calm drops on the outside of my tent this morning, the same fluid that is now threatening to take my life. How strange the difference circumstances create. We make it through the first rapid I whip my head around to look back on what we just paddled through, The river is absolutely beautiful. I want to linger longer, I want to stay and soak in the moment, but the river, like time, does not and cannot stop, for no one and no reason, Time and the river, goes on.

We link up with the other rafts wedge ourselves in some rocks along the side of the river, the group passes a couple joints and we all crack open our beers. The tingling feeling of carbonated alcohol in my mouth, the tiny imitation of the white water rapids foaming out the top of the shaken up can tossed to me from the cooler, I almost missed this trip. This was the weekend she was supposed to move back to Ohio to finish school. I had the weekend completely open to help her move back, ready to fly there and help drive back. But I guess just like how this river wore its way down to the bottom of these mountains, everything changes, people, like mountains, change over time.

We unhook our rafts and shove off. I tuck my can of beer in the neck of my vest as we approach the next rapid. Class after class we conquer each rapid, some we hit sideways, some backwards, Each of them completely beautiful, powerful, and exhilarating.

We hook up our rafts near a spot called the Colosseum, a jagged rock face that offers us opportunity to sit and enjoy our lunch with a great view of the river in our ancient roman-esque stadium seating. More beers and lunch meats, sandwiches, chips, and laughter. I can't get enough of how rooted these people are to this river. Each raft guide that passes by with a group of tourists is known by a river nickname as they shout back and forth to each other. A community I am greatly envious of.

Between the rapids we were pushing and tackling each other off the raft into the water. Sitting and waiting for someone not paying attention until suddenly I lunge at them from across the raft tackling them into the water as the other rafts roar with laughter then someone else gets shoved in shortly after.

We approached a rapid called thread the needle, white water between two big rocks, Jamie calls out this is a swimmers rapid if you want in go now. My heart races, I have to give this a try. I lean back and splash into the water. He tells me to keep my feet up so I don't get caught and pulled under by the rocks and swim between the two rocks. I go ahead of the raft and the water begins to pick up the pace. My body is pulled between the two rocks and I gasp for air in between the crests. The waves attempt to dash me against one of the rocks I pump my arms and kick my feet. My body has to beat this rapid, thrown against the rock isn't an option. I can't help but feel a bit like Paul Maclean in A River Runs Through It when he is pulled down the river by the enormous trout, I absolutely loved it.

We finished up with another class 5 after passing under the amazing New River bridge. Afterwards we packed up the gear changed into our dry clothes and it the bar for some shots, more drinking. That night after the smoked chicken dinner and all the story telling I sat by the fire letting the slack out for my mind to wander as it always does. What a beautiful day. I am exhausted and I can't wait to hit the pillow in my tent.

The next morning my body was soak all over, I like that feeling in my muscles the pain that lets you know you used your body well the previous day. That's how my body felt that summer I landscaped, hauling barrows of gravel for hours, digging piles of soil one shovel scoop at a time, I'm thankful my body hurts. I tear down my tent in the rain between the downpours and head over for breakfast. Jamie and I are sitting next to each other and he starts talking about his daughter. The last time I was on the river was her first time on the river. In fact her name is River, I love that name. It shows just how important those rapids in West Virginia mean to the people rooted here. Jamie gushes over River, his mouth succumbs to a smirk and it's clear that his brain is flashing memories though his mind of how he loves his daughter.

I loved listening to him talk about his daughter. I don't often get to hear a father talk about their child the way Jamie talks about River. I talk to parents everyday at the preschool but none get this weight to their words like this. He talked about when they hiked 10 miles in the grand canyon. He talked about the lessons he's tried to teach her, tried to introduce her to the world she's been ushered into.

I think about the love and respect Jamie has for the rivers of West Virginia, I think about the way he talks about his wife as she guides the raft ahead of ours, the way he smiles when he keeps proclaiming that he's going to go pick up his daughter today after everyone leaves.

The river is beautiful, the mountains are indescribable, West Virginia is a gorgeous place, and it is so fun to camp and cook and share with people around him, but when he thinks about his daughter everything else just turns vanilla and my heart really, really respects that.

In the end it isn't about a place, it isn't about mountains, it isn't about an experience, it isn't about a goal. What good are the rapids, what good is that river without the community, with sharing in it with those who know you and are known by you? It's about family, it's about the people we love, the ones who know us, it's about the ones who want to do life with us and the ones we want to do life with. That's home.

Take me home.

John Denver - Take Me Home, Country Roads

08/13/16