2011

The year I learned how to love. One year ago today I was on my way down to North Carolina. To the edge of the world. To revisit. The previous 2 years had been miserable. One year ago today I finally had some resolution. I had control again. I let go. Forgiveness. I was free again. Not to say that I wasn't still tormented by the usual winter blues.

I worked for MOKA for a while. I learned about life without words. I saw joy and rage in its most pure forms. I loved the people I worked with but hated the organization. I felt I was expected to improve someones quality of life, all the while mine was being degraded.

But the work experience eventually landed me a Job with Creston Community Gardens (thanks largely to my cousin). Where I got to teach people about stuff I cared about. Where I met Mac and Deborah. I was at first intimidated by office work. But after getting to know them, sometimes I would rather be in the office than at home or at a party.

I was finally in one place long enough to start a garden and to stay and watch it grow. Shane was cool enough, or didn't care enough to let me tare up his yard as I pleased. I planted Jerusalem Artichoke I had gotten from Jeff Smith. And neighbor Sarah brought me nasturtium seeds and other seeds. Me and her see swapped. She later brought me this beautiful heirloom tomato plant from Jeff, the seeds coming from his Italian great grandmother that produced some of the meatiest best sauce tomatoes I've seen (I have a pasta sauce in my freezer to prove this!) I planted sunflower seeds all over the yard from seeds I had saved from last year. Shane and I planted corn together. Josie brought me a tomato plant from seeds we had saved from a trillium haven tomato. I am still eating broccoli greens, Swiss chard, Arugula, Kale, and daikon radish from this garden into the New Year. Case made me a window box to have some food inside. I have some kale and stray dandelion greens growing in here.

Josie and I conquered another leg of the Smoky Mountains. Both of us in the '100 mile club' now. Since this year we had walked over 100 miles total in the smoky mountains. This year was the year of struggle. Each year focuses on something different. In the previous year we were deathly scared of bears and the year before was our first year and it was just magical and trying. This year was wet and I spent hours trying to make fires in the dark, we were low on fuel. The water pump didn't work so we ditched it.

I rescued a couple of starling chicks and raised them for a month.
How fast they grow. I brought them outside to stretch there wings

and they just flew away. That was it. I wonder if that was how it was for my mom...

the next minute they are gone.

I became vegan.

I adopted a cat, and called her Walter, after Walt Whitman.

I started the Wild Michigan Blog.

I made a good dog friend named Island.

I've held my friend crying. I've held my friends laughing.

I rolled around in the dust at dune grass with my new old friend Bob. I poured myself into Jen and ran away.

Remember the night it was storming, the hawkman climbed us up that dune and the storm blew all around us. Lizards and Crops circles and bagels for breakfast. We were the only ones who ever existed for just a little bit.

At Neverland, I fantasized staying forever. Of moving far away with all of my friends and people I've become acquainted with over the years. Hammock times were special. Barefoot in the woods. Friends. Family. Couchswing fantasy land.

Neighbor Sarah visited me one day with a seven-eleven cup of ice water with Bubby S Thompson. Both of whom I would come to love. Both would teach me more. She introduced me to Putt Putt's where I thought I had found my long last family. I just couldn't keep up with their drinking. As much as I wanted their love, and as much as I love the tall beers there. Sarah also introduced me to Wendell Berry. And helped me feel less like a crazy person, possibly because she's a little crazy to. But that's why I like her. She empowers me and encourages me. She makes me embrace my woman. She is woman.

Book Club times. Naked on beach at daylight. Embracing ourselves, embracing the world.

Mac's Cottage. We realized Island doesn't like boats. Beautiful singing angels of the night. Magik chocolate balls. Water color on the water.

And Case. I don't know if I will ever be able to explain this fully because my explanation keeps expanding. I never thought I would know something so gentle and understanding, yet fierce, passionate, and untamed. That time when we were walking through the woods at Nordhouse holding hands, there was some sort of electricity. Something that made the yellows in the leaves, and the greens of the lichen so bright.
Then there was this time more recently walking, home from the ducks and those oil horses. Beyond the mystical sea buoy. When your head was yours and mine was mine yet you and yours were also in mine and I think as you said mine may have been in yours.

And many many times in between.

Occupy Grand Rapids. Sweet painful democracy. I was a part of a major social movement. Those nights in ah-nab-awen, dreaming with the indian spirits. IT was so raw and alive and real.

it still is. I have retreated from the physical camp, but forever in my heart I hope the message of the movement manifests itself in whatever I do.

Shane and I played a show together this summer. IT was like a dream come true.
Brandon snuck into my bedroom the first night I moved back in with Brandon and
Shane. These guys are my family. The way I can get so mad at them and love them

twice as hard.

Erick moved back home. It's been decided that he is a genius.

Nick is one of my favorite song writers. Also one of my favorite people. I don't know if he knows this, even after I've told him a bajillion times. One of the humblest people I know.

Now it is late, and into the second day of the New Year.

I've spent hours going through photos of the past couple of years.

Our first significant snow of the year. Island and curled up at my feet
and Walter is resting on my left arm. I am laying my bed that sits upon
a door on top of a couple banana boxes.
I have only barely begun to explain the events of the past year and this one

has already begun.

I'm happy to be alive.