From the Journal: Matters of Being

Waves of distraction. Eye contact avoidance? Why does consciousness require/benefit from ritual? Does nature (beyond us) engage in ritual?

“I just want people to remember that we are nature…to contemplate: when do we become the tea?” … More From the Journal: Matters of Being

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I have a theory.

When I think about it now, I’m honestly not sure whether I was addicted to the mountain views or to the fascination these trips inspired from others waiting back at camp. Either way, the moment allowed my power to manifest in a way that was visible to the world around me. … More I have a theory.

Dither Me This #16: OmWork

Looking back, it’s easy to identify these things, but at the time, I was blinded by my drive to merely work out. I mean, I knew I liked it, but was I going to start incorporating these ideas and practices into my everyday life? Eh. Probably not. I wasn’t one of those hippy granola people. I’d like to think of it as being in the “talking” stage of a relationship. I liked yoga; but wasn’t totally invested quite yet…just keeping my options open, you know? … More Dither Me This #16: OmWork

Boundary Waters, Part 3: Memory of Sounds

All our shoulders are sore. My feet incite anxiety when they get wet. Tired legs. Today is more or less a do-nothing day but my body is in a funk. I’m quiet. Almost somber. Energy low. Raging headache. I ask Hatie for some of her Advil. I’m in an endurance hangover, it seems. I don’t even want to expend the energy talking so I daydream about napping. … More Boundary Waters, Part 3: Memory of Sounds

Boundary Waters, Part 2: Lost

I can’t explain everything, honestly. We got lost. We might have been in Canada for a few hours, who knows. The water levels this year are high, Hatie says, and the islands don’t look the same – nothing really was matching the map anymore. So we paddled and paddled. Sonya brought an Oru Kayak and her paddling was even more exhausting I’m sure. We also decided to wear stick-on mustaches today; I have my silver leggings, Hatie has gold, and Sonya is decked out in champagne leggings and a matching tutu. We could most certainly be the lost girls of Peter Pan. … More Boundary Waters, Part 2: Lost

Dither Me This #12: Denali

Camp 2, 11,200 ft. Today we dropped a cache at 13,400. I carried around 40-pounds and pulled another 45 on the sled. I’m writing this now after dinner and boiling snow while the boys trade off for the next few hours until our Nalgenes fill. Our water always contains random hair and food from prior meals. I’m pretty tired, haven’t slept more than 3 hours each night, and we’ve been here for 4, so far. I’m listening to “Precious Little” by a band named Hiatus. It’s a piano song and the air is frigid, as humidity turns to ice on the tent walls. … More Dither Me This #12: Denali

Dither Me This #10: Seasons

Yesterday was the longest day of the year, the summer solstice. The sun lagged longer in the sky and higher than any other time of the year. There is something to be cherished about having such long days: the ability to go on 7PM bike rides, nearly mandated by the heat. In part, as a consequence of all of this photon energy, all of us in the mountains are treated to a flourish of water making way from the high peaks to the canyons and valleys below, eventually to the sea, adding a little more salt to the brine, picked up along the way. … More Dither Me This #10: Seasons

Dither Me This #9: Control

I caught myself pondering what aspects of my life I controlled. Are they small things? Big things? Strange things? How do I even define control? I started jotting down a list and eventually categorized them into three groups of things I feel I control, have trouble controlling, have no control. Then I made it look pretty, because that’s how my brain works best (a fine example of control): … More Dither Me This #9: Control

Dither Me This #7: Breathe

“Breathe Patrick. Come on Patrick, please. Don’t hold your breath. Don’t. No. No. No Patrick…” then I’d pass out, go limp in her arms – my mother on the brink of panic watching her toddler refuse to cry by holding his breath instead. I don’t remember doing it, but she would tell me these stories among others, how she’d have to take me to the hospital in the middle of the night when my asthma got too bad, when the albuterol wouldn’t work. … More Dither Me This #7: Breathe

Adventure Haikus

Adventure Haikus By Sara Aranda ~~~ Tree bark, buried soil the snow catches the pine boughs wind-blown like sand dunes. ~~~ Elk track through the trees gentle dimples for white flesh, my eyes are too late. ~~~ Abandon your boots let wet laces paint the floor let the floor melt too. ~~~ Ice on the … More Adventure Haikus