The Blessed Burden of Freedom
I declare: Enough freedom is enough. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. When I spotted that soaring hawk in a holler in West Virginia two...
I declare: Enough freedom is enough. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. When I spotted that soaring hawk in a holler in West Virginia two...
Do you believe in synchronicity? Yesterday, I took-off north on Highway 395 from my base in Mammoth Lakes, and headed up the precipitous...
I am in the midst of yet another transition; and I’m taking this one hard. So hard, I wonder why and how I ever set off on such a...
I came for the healing power of the sea. I came to complete – literally and symbolically – my coast-to-coast journey. I’d envisioned my...
Out of a deep slumber, from behind the heavy, rubber blackout curtains of El Rancho trucker motel, I awoke, this morning, like clockwork,...
“What intolerable garbage and what utterly useless crap we bury ourselves in day by day. That’s what the first taste of the wild does to...
I’ve been kissing trees, lately, Arms embracing cottonwood girth, Thick, ruddy bark rough on my lips. Old man tree’s too old for me,...
Crossing state lines is always a momentous occasion on the journey road. As I merged onto US-191 heading out of Cortez, Colorado, West,...
Greetings, friends. I dedicate this post to the brave people of Ukraine, for peace in their country and on this earth. May all beings...
It’s hard not to go all googly-eyed smitten over Santa Fe. Their skies, a dreamy baby blue, never stop smiling at you. And their...
“When you travel in an unplanned way, you are free; there are no have-tos or shoulds. You are structured at first only, perhaps, by the...
Happy New Year, dear friends! I’m a big believer in the ritual of end-of-year reflection. Though where does one begin to reflect on a...
Greetings from Dairy Hollow, friends. It was a darn long drive from Washington: 1,334 miles over two days, across four states and...
I will not imagine the doctors fusing my vertebrae together so as to immobilize me. I will not imagine six to twelve months of recovery....
The microwave digital clock reads 10:23, and my eyes widen. For the first time in weeks, without the 7 am wake-up call of saws and...
The porch project completion was joyfully in sight. This was a sign: I was almost ready, again, to continue my journey. Or was I? I...
I hide-out in the basement, hiding from the secret shame of returning home with my tail between my legs, hiding from my naïve hope and...
A spirit has awakened me. At the wee hours, I stare up at the dark ceiling of my basement dwelling, squinting for some sign of life. But...
This fall marks an important milestone, and I almost let it slip by: the 20th anniversary of my freedom from "the man." I’ve been harping...
Resistance looks for any opening, any little wavering sign that you still want entanglement. Returning home to Washington, interrupting...