The living and the dead part2

I haven't written part 1 yet but this is part 2 which is slightly more private... Though I am feeling particularly open right now... So viewer discretion I guess.

When I was about 13 I had my first sexual encounter... With a friend. It was scary and exciting and that combination of pleasure and fear, taboo and secrecy was really powerful. 

For many years I chased this feeling and it lead me to doing a bunch of things I have regretted ever since. I felt like this desire for the feeling of being alive was coming at a cost to my conscience. That i felt alive, but wished I was dead at other times. 

Around 16 or 17 I stopped with the secret stuff and decided I needed to start having meaningful truthful relationships in the light of day- even if that was incredibly anxiety producing. 

My first actual relationship happened towards the beginning of my senior year of high school. This was the first time I kissed someone. This relationship was the first time I had actual sexual intimacy with another person. Someone I cared about... And I liked it a lot. I swore to myself that from then on I would only ever have that kind of intimacy with people I loved. 

This meant turning down sexual escapades, invites, opportunities even f I was interested. It felt good to develop the sense of self control, something I hadn't had much of during my earlier years.

I had two more relationships, full of intimacy and love. 

And then nothing... Not really. I had friends. friends who I was often sexually attracted to, friends I was physically close with but not sexually intimate. 

I love these friends so much that the idea of jeopardizing that love in anyway has always seemed like an insane thought. There are fantasies but, never never any moves. 

So I have not had a relationship since the end of 2006... So I have not had that kind of intimacy since then. Despite opportunities and invites... I started to feel that part of me was dead... Might forever be dead.  Until a few days ago...

I am part of the living again.

And I am tempted to try to make more of it than it was, to make a relationship grow -because I know I could, because I am capable and caring enough. Because part of me desires to. But I wonder if I should let it be, to recognize that I am not the 15 year old I was... Angry and confused and looking for a fix.. I am also not in need of strict ethical guidelines that don't serve me anymore...I am an adult. A human with drives that can be acted upon if I choose to.  

Perhaps I am finally growing out of my childish narrowness, my fixed positions... 

I was listening to a ted talk today, that described adversities as an opportunity to create our identity... Not always good, but that doesn't mean they can't be helpful... I am glad I have had these experiences(despite the years of shame that propelled them).

I am excited to see who I will become in the next few years. I hope more balanced, healthy and less judgmental  of myself and others.

These days, a month in

I've been waking feeling a familiar malaise.  I don't want to get out of bed. I want to return to whatever dream, fantasy or even nightmare that I was having. I want the feeling if familiarity, of comfort in knowing that these characters know me.

I don't know that sleep and dreams are the cause. Usually later in the day I'm fine, similar to the lighter stages of my winter depression.  These last few days have been the first time in the trip I've gotten good sleep. Like 7-8 hours of actual sleep instead of constant waking. It's been nice. But maybe having that time my mind is processing things I'd have preferred to leave alone. 

Or maybe it's the weather. It's colder here.  Nice during the day and cool at night. I had to wear a few layers last night and that felt familiar. The sun isn't as present due to cloud cover but it is still there. Sometimes weather changes will throw your body out of wack and I've been feeling tight.

Maybe it's food,  I've been eating more crap and less veggies and fruit. They are slightly less available here or just not ever present on the street. More water less coffee? (I'm about to go get coffee)

Maybe it's social. I've been surrounded by people and conversations for a long time, and at this hostel haven't found the same crew.  The people I've liked have moved on, are on different schedules. People are characters and I have some bitterness towards one.  This hostel has two rooms where people watch movies and I love movies but it shuts down the conversation.   

I have three more nights here before moving on to banos. I hope to make a friend, and get back into a place where I feel like I want to do things not just feel like I should.

Cali night

I'm chillin at a hostel, the people are all getting ready to go out dancing. Many of them already fall over drunk. 

I love hammocks. I've been writing journals and blogs, taking pictures, making videos.  

I've been meeting people, making the kinds of friends you make in hostels. The kind where you learn to enjoy their presence even if you don't know their secrets. 

I've been letting my heart open up.  Recognizing the losses, trying to find laughter and lightness again, but I do gravitate to heavy. Sometimes it makes me friends - asking something real. Creates a connection different but not necessarily deeper than beer. 

My self consciousness is tidal based. Sometimes I am confident and fun and funny, other times I am scared, mousy.

I haven't met any bears yet. Not really.

I am not sure how to keep constant.

I miss people and home, but I am enjoying myself more or less.  Glad to have he time to adventure. 

Still gravitating towards the dark side.

Thoughts I be havin

So I'm super tired right now from climbing the mountain yesterday and doing a bike tour today and also being a bit sunburned...

My horoscope this morning said something about not letting a person get me down, but I think in this case it was just me.  I've worked it out, I'm feeling better about the whole thing but there is still a missing component.  

But let me start from the beginning.

Today I woke up really early to go on a bike tour that had been recommended. 

I had a couple cups of weak coffee but by the time I got there I was still feeling drained from yesterday and exhausted. So this woman who also showed up  early asked me if I knew where to get some coffee and I didn't, but I followed her to the corner store and she bought me one. We chatted and I found out she worked with refugees in Canada- similar  population to the groups that come to Minnesota.  We talked about what we were doing and a few others things and somehow( I can't remember exactly) I told her about being picky and that it meow like a disorder than just being picky.  She seemed to be ok with this and took it in stride. She shared that to unwind she salsa dances and she is headed to Cali (the home of Colombian salsa).

The tour started we talked to other interesting people saw some cool stuff but halfway through the tour stopped for refreshments and again we chatted about areas of interest. She's a world traveler, has done all these cool things id love to hear more about etc. 

Later on the tour, the guide stops at a fruit market and offers the folks the opportunity to try all of these local fruits that seem really exotic to us. Of. Course everyone dives in and I sit back because a lot of them look gross and gooey and the people make faces at the tartness and just plain differentness of the fruits.  The guide keeps offering me and eventually i say I'm picky and sort of afraid. Which was worded poorly but describes the feeling of anxiety I have around food expectations when I have no desire to eat...  To which he continually replies well it hasn't killed anyone yet. In a well meaning but misguided attempt to alleviate "my fear".   This whole thing starts triggering me about the social anxiety that comes into play with this "disorder" and is the reason some people who have this never leave the house.

Anyway he doesn't know that but internally I'm fighting a small battle between other peoples expectations and my own perceptions.  I know logically these fruits won't kill or even harm me, but mentally and perhaps physically it would be excruciating.  It's an emotional turmoil that I don't think people understand.. It's why a former counselor told me to tell people I have food allergies instead of explaining it to people.

The bike tour - combined with yesterday's exhaustive walk up the mountain, tires me out and I feel my sugar level dropping and my introversion coming out and by the end of the tour I am ready to be on my own and eat comfort food... And just not have to deal.

The girl asks me if I want to have dinner tonight.  I remind her of my food issues and she isn't phased,she says - yeah I know I was just thinking that it might be nice to go to this area of town called zona rosa and have dinner and drinks.

The combination of the three things immediately flips me.  Going out to dinner  would have been an anxiety issue in itself but now I'm  thinking about this area with bars and dancing AND dinner with food issues AND I have to tell her I don't drink. And I'm tired and need lunch and I'm kind if crabby and I won't ever see her again after today and I tell her no.

She seems to understand. I don't ask for her email because we are traveling in different directions.

But as I walk away I'm beating myself up because I never take chances like that and then wonder why I'm lonely.

I think it through and recognize the problems my self conscious intuition was picking up... But still it felt dumb.   

I realize if she has said "hey do you wanna get lunch or coffee right now" it would have been a different story.  But she needed someone to go out to The bars with her... That isn't me. As much as I would sometimes like it to be. 

But I am definitely fiening... How does an introvert meet an outgoing awesome person who wants to be around an introvert?

-it's weird how my neurosis play out- sometimes in self protection, sometimes in harm.  I just wish I had better positive outlets so it didn't trigger the anxiety and shame stuff.

Legacy

As the time to departure nears, the lists get shorter, I see the people, I complete the tasks, I prepare, and stuff away the items. Its a procedural thing. An order to follow. An allotment of time and a goal to accomplish.

But these people keep grabbing and prodding, and jarring me from my course. 
And I like it, I love it, the outpouring, the hugs and tears, and the unquestionable sentiments. The desire to see me off safe, but with a bit of reserved jealousy, a little bit of frustration, a little bit of bite. They want to see they've left a mark. So they dig, and stab, and claw with such beautifully loving gestures... and I crumble just a bit. I crumble because I can't handle that level of truth without biting my cheek, without a bit of salty wound. 

I can't leave a robot. They won't let me, and it fills me with some big breaths. Some hard swallows.

But when I try to speak even a bit... to share with them back... it just doesn't come out the way it should. 

So I feel like I'm leaving without offering reassurances. Without people knowing the gifts they've given me have mattered, have changed me, nourished me for so long.

What is this tourniquet around my speech, this restraint...  
I feel like I am selfishly gathering the blessings and running away. 

Fbjdos

Hello...its2:42 am. And I am typing on my iPad.  Because my computer is backing up to a hard drive... Forever 

.  Lightning storm.  I wanna go to sleep.

TAken at my mamas house.

Enjoy urselfsss 

The week before...

I am not sure how big of a deal to make anything. Its 1:36 in the AM, and I feel the need to make profound statements... to make grand pronouncements of the future!
Like, in the future... I will live on nothing but potatoes!
or by the time I return I will have 13 children!
or I will know how to play the guitar!

but the truth is... I have no idea what this trip will contain, or who I will be, or what I will want when I return. 
I know the amount in my bank account. 
I know I am addicted to sugar and caffeine so a potato only diet seems pretty rough.
I know I haven't produce a kid yet, so 13 seems a bit indulgent. 
I know my longest friend got engaged this weekend... and that when he first called to tell me I was chatting with my Mom and told her I was hoping he was gonna call and tell me he was engaged. So that was good timing. 
I know she practice EMDR therapy on me while we were sitting on the couch, and the process seemed to work way too quickly... and reminded me of every time I have ever processed anything. 

I know in the past week I have felt really grateful for my friends and family. Which is something I feel really happy to report because I wasn't sure my robot self was gonna allow it. 

I know I am getting there... as far as this trip. It comes on fast and then slows down and then rushes forward again.  Its a week. 

I need to make some more lists.  Get some copies and things prepared. Move a bunch of shit to my Brothers. See a few people a few more times... pay some bills.  Make some videos. Finish a book.

Hope for the best. 

Thas all we can do right?

waterfalls and concrete hearts

Have they not taken care of you? Does the water not quench your thirst, invigorate your cells, pour from the sky to remind you of abundance? What reason do you have to doubt? To fear? Is there some torment you haven’t been prepared for? 
Your heart will break, as it should. As it must, in order to prepare for loving more fully. Ripening, seasoned, cooked to release the flavor and beauty of life. If you would have an understanding of abundance, you can’t keep a heart locked up. 
Where should this spirit flow without an open conduit? It will crash and crush your castle walls. Open and break, trust the spirit to help put you back together again. Ask. Or it will teach you to ask. 

I’ve been contemplating the value and philosophies of this trip. I’ve been acknowledging the rigidity of my heart and trying to reason it away. Small moments of recognition. Of feeling. Its hard to put into words, the effort it takes to allow myself to feel. A worthy effort, but difficult right now because it comes with such aches.

Concrete example: Two instances.
I was sitting with some of my co-workers post-graduation. We were at a bar and I was thoroughly in my head, imagining things. This is the place I have been recently, imagining possibilities and things that are not, might not, should not and will be. It was an eventful week obviously. I was officially unemployed as of that evening. I was no longer a member of this community in the official capacity, not a force to be reckoned with, not an advisor or guide, not a leader, just a was. I was trying to reassure myself and them that of course I would be in the next week. And I was. And it was reassuring to all of us. But it was difficult that night to say I am letting go. Because I wasn’t prepared for that. So I was in my head. And my coworker was crying. And I was in my head. And she wanted an arm around her shoulder or a hug or some comfort, and gladly another moved in. And I was in my head. Virtually paralyzed in doubt of what I should do. I knew what she wanted, and what I wanted, but I couldn’t act, or say… and I was in my head for the next hour when we were leaving… and I forgot to tip the server, and they called me out on it and I was shocked because the thought hadn’t even come into my head. It simply didn’t exist. I was already a ghost. I was in my head. I had no presence. And the shock was enough to reduce me to embarrassment and a little shame… but I couldn’t fully pull myself from it… just too much.

The weekend was lonely. It dawned on me that I was unemployed soon to be gone. I tried to do the things I should do. I read a lot. I wrote a lot. I prepared some. I went into work on Tuesday and Wednesday. On Tuesday my coworker and I went for a walk. And I explained some of this, letting my shell crack just a little. I told her I was overwhelmed and it was causing me to be very distant and I didn’t like it. When we walked back she said “I’ll spare you the hug” she was thinking of my boundaries, but not my best interest… I was paralyzed again. In my head the words “please don’t” repeated and repeated over and over, really for a long time after. But nothing came out. I turned and left and wanted to cry, but couldn’t because I was in my head again.

 I started sharing some of this with people throughout the week… and slowly gradually I feel the walls coming down, but it’s scary. I don’t want to be a robot. I’ve seen that side of me, but it hurts a lot to leave. I haven’t been satisfied here, because I have been dreaming, ever dreaming of something else. It has clouded my vision of what I have had here, and it has made me ungrateful and unworthy, and not very giving. It feels like I am leaving on a low point in my relationships which is not how I want to leave. But it feels safer for everyone.

On Wednesday night I hung out with a friend and the 2.5 hours seemed to pass within minutes. I was caught off guard when she said it was midnight.
Yesterday I went to see Minnehaha falls with another friend, we went out for coffee afterwards and processed a lot of this. It felt like a blessing. It felt like it was what was supposed to happen. It felt really beautiful and inspiring and made me feel grateful and blessed. The time passed quickly… maybe not the same way, but I was shocked when I realized it was 6:00 PM. Many of the topics that came up felt so right… she described these situations where she felt unable to communicate and I described the situation I had just had with my coworker and we both recognized it. While she was talking I was thinking about how that feeling is something I avoid regularly. I used to be a social person, shy but wanting to reach out, and I would get stuck in that anxiety that paralysis so I stopped seeing people who made me uncomfortable, I stopped putting myself in situations where I felt that anxiety coming on. Any situation where I would be bored, or unable to offer input, or in a place where I wasn’t sure –I just completely avoided. To people who are in my life but not necessarily extremely close to me, they recognize my ability to communicate with them and assume I am able to do that with everyone at any time. It just isn’t so.

My Dad suggested that I walk into situations with the confidence I have as a teacher. Whether you are confident in the lesson or not, you fake it till you make it and social situations can be that way as well… but I hate the idea of trying to make real connections with people while playing a role.
Furthermore I have had a lot of people call me out on being arrogant or a know it all when I approach using my teacher stance.

Anyway I find myself in this position right now where I am trying to open my heart back up to relating with people deeply… the biggest concern I am recognizing is that I fear what I have to offer won’t be enough… I just don’t know what my future holds so I worry I will let people down. I don’t take the moment for what it is, I worry about what it promises. I worry that I won’t be able to follow through on my promises to others or myself.
My friend asked me why I didn’t trust that it would all work out… I said it felt entitled to believe things would work out for me when they obviously don’t for many people… and she countered that I had prepared in all the ways I could… now it was time to follow through.

Identity

I am not sure what I want to say, which is a terrible way to start writing except, I have found that often what I mean to say comes with time.

So today I was thinking about the concept of identity.
It came up several times, in various ways without being specifically mentioned.

A friend called this morning and told me about a break up, and new job prospects, and the feelings associated with each.  I tried to see myself in the roles, and could for brief seconds of time, and then couldn't again. Like I was aware but not quite there... and part of me thought that perhaps I soon would be more in that line, and part of me thought I wasn't capable. How will you relate?

I had a conversation with my Dad while walking around the lake, he wonders if my social anxiety and the anxiety of my little brother comes from him. He retreats from social situations because he can't hear, and feels not only left out but embarrassed for himself and frustrated with others that the situation can't be made more workable... we got to a point where he was talking about how in a situation you have to make the decision of how you will react... and I said I face that quite commonly at work  and sometimes even enjoy the moments of embarrassment -then decide that I can handle it and continue teaching anyway... he asked why I don't approach parties or social gatherings from that angle and I said I didn't like the hierarchical approach, the barriers it created naturally. But the idea that it was a choice nonetheless remains.   How will you approach?

I was reading this book a student gave me. I sort of love it so far, but I am trying to take it a few chapters at a time and prolong the lessons... It is about a guy who goes and lives in a Mayan village (actually at the lake I was burned on).  It talks about his struggles, his successes and his learning process throughout, but there is this running theme throughout that he is only living into a preordained path. That the things that happen need to happen, that the places and positions he gets into are necessary for the path.  He almost dies in one of the recent chapters I read... by almost dies I mean he should have been dead, massive injuries, dehydration, sever sickness, burns... he should have died, he dreams of what death is like, and then as he puts it  he asks a lizard to sing him back to life.  The sequence he shares seems very similar to things I have imagined and I loved the imagery.  He gets put back together and goes on (I haven't read this part yet), to fulfill his path...
which leaves me with the questions of How will react?  and How will we know?

I was listening to the radio and this story was playing, the end result was that the people's stuff, their home and their memory was sort of lost... and it left me with this feeling of wonder because it seemed like our life's identity was so transitory.

I was thinking of my trip, trying to set intentions and every step feels like the right step, but it also feels like I am washing away possibilities.  How long? How much? When? Where?   I wish it were a little more spelled out.

I am caught off guard by the two aspects of myself that seem to be in contradiction on this trip so far...   will I be a teacher?  or will I be a traveler? 
Will I be in transit or looking to be part of a community?
I long for both, both seem like beautiful and good intentions.
I am hoping at some point they come into alignment so I don't wander frustrated from place to place.

The midnight thoughts

I've been trying to get to bed without my regiment of asmr YouTube clips... I have not made it easy on myself considering in the last few days I have been drinking coffee into the evening. 

Today I found out who the next program manager will be.  And I am excited and nervous about the future of the school.

I have just a few days left and a few tasks to push my way through... Graduation on Thursday.  I plan on stopping by for summer school to say hi to the kids so for most it's not a total goodbye. 

Same with staff of course.  One of my coworkers reminded me that I have been one of the only continuous men in her life these last few years.  I thought that was kind of funny.   

I've been worrying a lot about the trip, about conditions and bugs and crime and how to stay safe... Worrying about money and how to have a good time while also not squandering my resources - so that I can accomplish all of my goals not just some or a half assed effort. 

I was thinking today that it might be smart to start like an online book club so that I can have shared experiences with people back home and not feel too out of touch.  Maybe it will be a book, or a movie or a writing exercise where we each write a page and then co-create a story.  

I have felt very out of touch with people lately and it occurred to me amongst my worries that I haven't prayed, haven't thanked god for the people in my life nor asked blessings for them lately - well not in the way I used to... And that bothered me.  

I was discussing in my own head how much control I can give up to god and the universe... These worries don't help me - let then go.  The fear doesn't help me - let it go.  The loneliness and distance doesn't help me - let it go - or replace it with the feeling of connection I get from being thankful for having them in my life. 

I started thinking about some of the students I was going to miss, what it is that I would tell them.  Why I believe in them.  In the 50 projects I have in my head I think it might be nice to write a series of letters- maybe graduation letters for later.    I imagine for many of them by their graduation date the separation will feel pretty final. 

Oh well I can't control the universe.  

So illy since you are the only one I know who occasionally reads this. Any thoughts on a book club or something? 

Today Today The Art of such

I have things to do I swear. I have some work to get done. Some things to pack. A whole lot of lists to make... but today I sat in a coffee shop and wrote the first 5 and a half pages of some sort of spy novel.
I have no idea why this appealed to me, but once I started I had things to say and it came out.  I don't think I am a very good writer for things like this. I have an internal monologue as a narrator... I need to find ways to create the picture of the scene without describing it outright as if someone is describing it outright.

anyway the opening line is


“The unfortunate position Joseph Shif died in was not nearly as noble as the way in which he had lived” read the Eulogy. 

It goes on to briefly share his experience before death... then the eulogist's attempts to figure out who the person was.  The eulogist ends up playing the role of detective... -as the book would go on probably get caught up in a bunch of drama he is unprepared for. I am not sure where the ending would leave the audience... whether you would find out that Joseph really is a super boring, socially awkward man with OCD, or whether he was a spy, or whether he was neither, or both?  Maybe it would just leave you unsure to make up your own mind... but regardless the Eulogist would get caught up in what he thinks is some real shit. 

ghgdfmk desrregard

Have I posted that before?

Some thoughts on this Saturday night, most of which I already journal-ed aboot toooooday.

I've been reading The People of the Book, which is good. It makes me sad though.  I love the weaving of history and mystery together.

I'm lonely tonight, but I don't think I want anyone... rather I have no one in mind that I feel called to. I have been thinking about this a lot lately because I wonder what has shifted so much, that I don't long for anyone. I have people on my mind regularly, I miss them I suppose, but I don't know of anyway to satisfy the lack of connection, so even if I miss someone, I don't feel called to them. its sort of a shitty feeling to be honest.  It runs parallel with the lack of crushes. The days you go through without anyone you want to impress, or think about, or who makes the day a tad bit more exciting.
I have longings for a certain amount of excitement and sensuality, but not for a person in particular.
Even in my dreams the ones I follow have no faces, covered faces, mystery people.


I had this sad feeling about my Dad tonight. This feeling like he wasn't always going to be so strong, so sturdy, wouldn't always be there to listen. Like perhaps even now when he still seems so full of life he is just faking the confidence (sometimes), it reminded me of times when as a kid I felt sorry for him, felt like my desires clashed with his, and that he wouldn't be able to satisfy them like he wanted to.  Like he wanted to be my hero, but knew he couldn't be.   I saw my Dad look at his father this way, with a hell of a lot of love and respect, but with a certain amount of pity and despair knowing it wouldn't last... this life, it won't last.  I don't like the idea of people seeing me in pain, or wasting away... the thought of seeing my parents or my siblings that way kills me.


Yesterday I left work so full of hope and pride, happiness. I felt like I had accomplished things, like everything would be alright. I hope that continues.

I am in the "holy shit what am I getting myself into" phase of leaving. My Dad asked me today if I had any reservations about leaving, and I don't... but I am scared.
Scared I will be hurt. Scared for my possessions. Scared I will fail. Scared I won't find the opportunities I am seeking. Scared something will happen that calls me home. Scared that I will be a world away, frightened and lonely. Scared I will be scared.

Its such a funny set of fears... as if I have no where to land. As if I don't have backup plans. As if I didn't want exactly these things.
I was thinking about the loss of possessions, when you are backpacking your bag is all you have. Its everything, and it takes on these wild dimensions that get elevated beyond their proportion... my phone and ipad, a credit card, a passport... they are all so easily replaced and yet in my head they are my lifelines.   The loss impairs me, it keeps me from my plans my dreams, opportunities etc.
And yet, these fears will keep me from far more if I let them.
I think back on places I have been and how annoyed I am with my younger self for not experiencing them more fully... I was enthralled with the wrong things. Concerned with money when I could have been experiencing the beauty of the world... I need to let go. Remember I have nets, wits, skills and paperwork to boot. I have heart, and curiosity, and a family to come home to if nothing else works.

With just a few weeks left, I find myself looking at things differently. For instance I am doing laundry tonight and questioning whether I should really wash a shirt or pair of pants... or if they can just be tossed now instead of in a few weeks. I am purging a ton of stuff. Some of it feels like a waste. Some I know I will regret while other stuff I know I will just buy again in the future.
Its the stuff with parts that freaks me out... a small space heater, happy light, a dehumidifier, a fan, a half broken alarm clock, a printer, a keyboard... Where to take this stuff?
Or the meaningful stuff?  paintings people did for me & paintings I created, t-shirts from clubs I was involved in & t shirts from bands I saw...  the small stuff can be tucked into boxes, but why keep a blanket that can be easily replaced and takes up too much room?

This basically means I have to buy a new life when I get back... I am unsure when that will be and it makes things like asking my Dad to keep my car in his driveway a little weird.  If its 6 months great. If its 2 years?  I am likely going to have to ask him to sell it later.

I've been cleaning things up at work. Tucking folders away in cabinets. Clearing out emails. Trying to turn in all the paper work. My shelves look bare but still have the imprint of my presence.  In a few months no one will know what my part was, but they will find the fodder of my time there. They will find it annoying and question why I was so bad at certain aspects of my job. They will wonder why I wasn't better organized and then they will try to do the job, and likely be distracted as I was.

The students will be hard on them.
The students will be hard on themselves.


Am i out of things to rant about?

Travel websites

Mike in South America

Mike is a Teacher

Sweet Words and bitter worries.

Cover of a Chili Peppers song,
That song has little to do with the following, but I love the guitar parts and some of the lyrics. 



A student wrote me a note today. A thank you card, complete with "Thank You" on the front. Inside, she said in the simplest most moving way how much my presence in her life has meant. I couldn't keep from tearing up.  A few weeks ago this student upon hearing that I was leaving, began to cry, and I began to cry.  Later in a slightly more private moment she said thank you, she also said that in the last few years I had been the closest thing to a father figure she had ever had. I have been carrying that with me ever since, because I don't think I could possibly think of anything anyone could say that would be so touching to my heart right now.

Another student has been in her terms "sassy" all week. Greetings of "You suck" or "Go away."  I've been sassing her back quite a bit, and tonight in a moment of playing around, I called her out on it. And she basically said "Yeah of course I have been pissy all week, I'm hurt that youre all leaving so I am giving you shit while I still can because that's how I show I care."  She was still keeping pretty cool about it and I said something like "if you care so much why did you skip half of last week" and there was this weird moment of hurt in her eyes, before she replied very spunkily, "Yeah but I have shown up early every day this week!" To which I gave her props.   Earlier this year this student checked herself into a hospital, and in a moment of vulnerability/perhaps unprofessionally,  I cried on the phone when her mom called.

Another student who I have been close with for years now, has confessed several times in the last few days - that without knowing it I kept him from committing suicide. Every time we talk, I see so much of myself in him (despite completely different backgrounds). I just know what he means when he talks about things that everyone considers crazy, and its so easy to say "yeah for sure"  and he walks away so much lighter. Tonight I watched him skillfully rap/recite some of the most incredibly painful insights he has had about people close to him, in front of a crowd of over 100. Afterwards he was just so full of that after show glow.

One of my students came to me this morning embarrassed  and scared because she hadn't completed a project for the show tonight. She spent hours working on it at school today and it was one of the highlights of the show.  The students wrote, shot, directed and edited the film... and all day today when I would walk in on them editing it, I would just crack up with laughter (as did the audience tonight).  The student editing, and the student who helped make sure all the technical difficulties were worked out are our youngest students at my school... two 9th graders  took the responsibility for the project in a group with members who are super seniors. -not saying the others didn't do their parts... saying they trusted and relied on these young folks -who pushed through and made it work. Two parents came up to me to give me credit for the work -specifically mentioning certain pieces that in fact their children (unbeknownst to them) had written, and I was able to turn it back and say I was taking directions from them actually.

The mother of one of my students approached me and asked me about my trip, and I asked her about the upcoming trip her daughter had told me about today. She said she was so grateful to have a daughter who actually wanted to hang out with her at 16. We talked about the maturity her daughter shows in most things, how beyond her age some of these traits were... and then she told me what her daughter had said after her first week at a large public school. How it nearly broke her heart to hear about the suffering her daughter was going through, so that when she found our school...  The two had both felt a huge sense of relief... of safety. The Mom wished her other kids had known about the school.

And despite all the beauty and the love, and the pride.

I got home and thought about the students who didn't get to share in the success... the ones who don't feel connected. And it saddens me that I don't feel like I can genuinely invite them in-when I won't be there to ensure their place.
Every day I chastise myself for not being able to make the bridge, I see them suffering. Hearing from their fellow students that this has been a place of sanctuary and I just can't help.  One in particular I see so full of desire, and anger, and hurt.  So clearly at that point... and I worry he's tipping the other way.

I saw a former student tonight, riddled with scars from drug use. Generally looking damaged. I don't want to pity her, substance use happens... I just want better.  This girl was so sweet and now she can barely finish sentences. She says shes woken up, the cloud is gone, but without support...life doesn't insist.

I just want better for them, these kids whos names I'll forget. Who aren't my children, but sometimes play the role... and allow me to be their awkward father figure, friend and teacher all rolled into one.


What will I be without them? and because I haven't allowed myself this thought in a while, and not to be too prideful, but what will they be without us?
Will they know they are ok? better than that, will they know they are important? and wise? and talented? and good? and full of possibility? and creative? and capable? and smart? and so fucking funny? and sometimes super annoying because that can't see any of this?  and a challenge yes, and mean sometimes, and self-limiting, and not nearly as driven as I'd like them to be... but that those things don't make them dumb, or bad, or worthless, or unknowable, or undeserving... just - in progress. 
They are not done yet. Will someone they can trust in, be there to say I see you, I'm looking forward to seeing more.
As they deserve. As we all deserve.

goats and mirrors

I imagine a time when you are looking at old photographs, or clicking through facebook feeds, or tired and lonely... a bitterness will come over you, mixed with heart ache. A joy stunted, a chapped smile. It wont be a moment of self chastisement, because you've never been like that. It will be a moment of anger, lost opportunity for affection. And you'll wonder why I never knocked at your door. Never called too late. Never let my tongue slip. Never let my hands grip too tightly. I've never held you right. I never will. 
And in admiration you'll talk about your friend, your close close friend, warmth attempting to spread in any easy direction, and the sentence will end... as you find you're left wanting... coolness recapping all trace of what had spread, now an emptiness, a dread.

A friend asked what I was drawn to right now... I answered a good book, a journal, a long walk.

And if you are feeling particularly spiteful or in desire of a challenge, you'll guess at the meanings of words and gestures and looks.  You'll consider quick responses... Do you want to hang out sometime soon?  Sure. When?  Followed by long discussions, winding thoughts, jokes and stories,  way too much intellectualizing, shared notes from textbook sources, too much consideration in a way that almost seems validating, seems so validating, seems like something real... but you've never been quite sure. And then the distance... which you'll blame on me. The true invitation never opened. 
You'll perhaps second guess, considering gifts, or tasks meant to say "I am here for you," but wonder why nothing was asked to make it equal. Mutual sharing, never a strong point. Reciprocity a battle, with one combatant. There were words you'll say, words that meant a lot, that touched, that reached. Deep stares, the humanist of smiles. And then... what?  Gifts exchanged, then put away.

A friend said recently, that she considered me to be quite a private person. To which I scoffed.

And if you push this question, you'll ask why those boundaries were so invisibly present, so steadfast yet seemingly benign in the moment. You'll perhaps question at this point why you weren't good enough to be open with, why he(I) was so needlessly stubborn around you, so silent in moments that could have been alive, and so alive in moments that mattered little. Maybe you'll wonder why I never pushed past my rumbling stomach, or my hardened heart. You'll question why a person can't make leaps that seem so simple.  Perhaps you'll blame it on my work (as I often have) the draining exhaustion of -give too much and receive too little.  Then you'll consider my trips (as I often have) as escapes from this self imposition, and wonder why it was so necessary to leave you, to be me...

A friend recently said with some spite that -I was already gone.

and I am not sure I have the words, the convincing gestures, the right way to hold you, to make it seem any other way.  I haven't taken the risks, I haven't plead for understanding, I haven't asked...
and I probably won't.
It makes me sad, and feels very familiar.

I spent some time invested in the story of another the other day... I tried to shift the understanding the person had, to the reality of the story.  The words are such, believe they mean it... but when their behaviors don't follow, recognize they might be incapable of following through on what they mean...
Who we think we are and who we are... may not be aligned.

But it bothers me, for all my intentional presence... that I cannot meet the expectations I help create in people.  I am not a private person. I just don't value a lot of the things I have to say...I share them all day at work. I say them in journals and poems and blog posts.   I share my intellectual ideas, my spiritual ideas, I share them because I think they are important.  I share my feelings, but I share them after consideration.
I share my drama, when I can focus it on a track that makes it a learning experience.  I share my frustrations openly,  but I also enjoy them, so I am likely to laugh while doing so... so it may not seem like they are as intense  as they actually are. I share my anger, but I have a lot less of it than I used to, because I don't need anger to fuel my courage in the same way as I once did (that goes for outside world things). I don't share my heartache and personal anger as openly because I am extremely emotional and I know that these feelings come and go, positive and negative and I am a little protective of them.
I don't reach out, because I respect your space. Because I don't trust my hands with the right pressure. I don't call because I respect your time, because I am scared of your voice and the sound of rejection. I don't go to your events, because I don't enjoy myself in a crowd. I can't hear my thoughts, I can't concentrate my desires, and my desires are almost always about deeper connections, that I can't fathom at a party. I am a goat standing on a mountain, I want you to join me, when we are both sure you're ready.

But root of the issue... I don't think its the fact that I am a Capricorn that makes all this the reality.

-I think when I share too much people get overwhelmed, resentful, numb or dismissive. I am apt to make a fool of myself and alienate people.
-I think when I was young I didn't respect people's boundaries well enough, and so I am hyper sensitive about doing so now.
-I think the fact that I am a rather emotional person, requires me to be careful about how much I invest in other people. So I have to be a little protective.

But I don't do these things to be separate, evasive, private, shallow, half-assed.
I do them so I can be present, engaged, validating, concerned, respectful, loving.

Looks like I have some work to do to reconcile these behaviors with the meanings they are supposed to represent. 

Water

I've been having this dream that I am in bed (my moms old house is slp). And suddenly I feel wet on my shoulder.  I look and realize that the headboard (which has shelves) has water spraying out of the middle shelf.  I become vey anxious and look for the cause.  I remove things in the way,  try to keep stuff from getting wet like electronics and paper.  I noticed that the other side of the shelf also has a leak, and I attempt to plug it up thinking it may help. It does, momentarily both of these holes are not leaking anymore... But then there is another leak somewhere else and I start to feel like I need to fix this before i leave. 

I am 99 % sure this is an anxiety dream about not getting everything done before I leave... Or leaving a mess behind and not having time to deal with it.   But I don't really know what the leak is... 

2:40 AM

I spent most of the evening working on various online projects and watching a lot of comedy.
I updated a resume, looked up a lot of jobs and websites for jobs in south america... did a bunch of other stuff, like looking up the readability score of this blog (apparently it ranges from about 7-11th grade).  None of that is why I wanted to post. 

Its spring and I am excited. I see more people out and about, and can't help but be reminded that the world is beautiful. People are beautiful. Life is beautiful.
It leads me to all sorts of human feelings of longing, of lusting, or general fantasies of reaching out for connection.

Sometimes I watch the online videos of this professor lady I met on okcupid and had one skype chat with. She teaches communication which is something I am interested in, and she uses tons of funny clips so the videos are actually rather enjoyable. But I also like them because I wish I had gotten to know her more, and the videos give me the chance. So she has at least 1 course entirely online, and I watch each lesson as it comes out or a couple weeks after. Sort of like auditing the class... 
anyway I was watching one tonight and she said something that made me want to look her up on facebook...but when I did I found out she was engaged. I think they met right around the time I "met" her, and part of me is like wow they move quick... and part of me is like, damn I'm so jealous.   

I can always right it off, because she is a dog person. But I feel like I have really fallen out of touch with how normal things work. 

I am preparing to leave the country for between 6 months and a couple of years.  What am I doing?



In other news...
 Today I saw an older gentleman with a long white beard and long white hair tied up at the top of his head. He was wearing a pink shirt, and a pinkish orange skirt, and rollerblades.  He was drawing in a sketch pad. He was polite to the barristas. He had a presence like he was in the right, even though he looked ridiculous. An attitude of "don't you think I know what I am doing?  Haven't I earned the right to wear whatever the fuck I want? and fuck you"  kind of all rolled into one.
Except for the part of him not being a hunchback like me, I was totally wondering if I was seeing my future self.  If I live long enough, I hope to some day rollerblade or more likely skate, in whatever the hell I want... 
but I suppose I did that like a week ago...
I hope to grow a big white beard.

Monday

I'm sitting at the travel clinic about to get charged an arm and a leg (several hundreds for shots).  

I had a nightmare last night. 

The dream started as I was in bed, it felt very much like the actual situation except that I was in some other apartment, some other bed.  I was under the window and i was awaken from sleep by the sudden shift that happens when the electricity goes out.  It was so dark!  

The only light came from outside but it wouldn't penetrate the darkness of the apartment.  I stayed in bed for a long while waiting for the electricity to come back on, but it didn't.  I tried to let my eyes adjust but they wouldn't. 

Eventually I decided this must be the fault of the landlord, that she should fix it.  So I got out of bed hoping to awaken my roommate and get her number. I knocked the door several times.  Nothing, the eery  quiet continued.  I was trying to use my phone as a light but it wouldn't light up the room no matter what I did.  

Suddenly I heard a click at the door to the apartment.  The front door was around a corner from me, and I deduced in the dream that i would have the upper hand on whoever was breaking in because it was so dark and they wouldn't know the layout. 

As I crept up closer to the wall, my heart pounded and I suddenly rounded the wall to stop the would be attacker.  

But I woke up. My eyes wide open, a glow around a central figure a few inches from my face, it was not a person. It was a machine... A camera or something,  but it didn't appear to be on. 

I stayed very still and let my heart beat slow down, my breathing quieted. 

The glow in my vision faded slowly and I watched as my vision changed , got blurry.  

I couldn't understand what it was that I was looking at, or why it would become less clear in some ways while more clear in others.  

Eventually I could tell that part of the machine was the lamp in the corner... But   What was it that was so close to me? Staring at me?  

Heads.

I've been feeling so sleep deprived lately that I have been spacing out left and right... And occasionally passing out left and right.  For instance I took a nice 45 minute nap in the parking lot of Leeann chin this week.   

Well I finally finished at hamline so my life should be significantly reduced in stress... Yesterday was my first recovery day and I decided to see a movie and go to bed at like 11.  Today I woke up at 11 and realized i really didn't have anything pressing to do except maybe laundry.

So today I spent the day working on suggestions for my position at school. 

I came up with about 3 pages of info and suggestions for the future person.   It was sort of eye opening to write things down. I simultaneously realized I was doing way too much work, and not Doing much of my job very well.  I have a lot of non-teaching aspects that I have never really put very much effort into.  I am permanently behind on these tasks and all of them are accountability measures from the state or the district that make the school look good or bad.  They really require someone to focus... And I never did.  

But now I have a headache. 

Saturday 1 am

I am pretty ready for bed, so maybe I shouldn't be writing.
I finished Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance today and really enjoyed it. It left me feeling a little too excited at a certain point, and really moved by the end... but also a little shaken. I looked in the mirror and wondered who I was.
This is something I have been trying to put together for a while.  When my coworker asked me recently why I was leaving, I said... I am really grateful for what I have had, I've grown confident and happy with the work I have done, but I have neglected major parts of myself for this job... and I need to go find them. 
This week when we told the students that we were leaving, I cried.  I cried for myself, I cried for them too... but I haven't cried much for me this last year... I've felt very unable to be emotional, like its too much to be vulnerable in that way.  
Today I was wondering what others see, do they see me?  I am not even sure what I see, so how do I know if they see me or not?
I've grown really confident and ready to move on, but I have become really closed off, really unable to be vulnerable, or truly warm, to really emote, or care or create... and if I've grown stronger in giving this up...able to see beauty and encapsulate it in my brain, to experience beauty, enjoy it even, but with a distance that feels really much too safe...  no vulnerability in any of it at all...
then I hope that in my travels this shell sheds, even if it means I fall apart.
What I mean is... I might need to dissolve a little, to find some better form of integration, so that when I look in the mirror I see me, not just an aesthetic that sometimes I appreciate, and sometimes don't even recognize.  More than that, a presence that I recognize and that can be recognized... I only use the mirror example because I sometimes realize when I look in the mirror how distant I look... like I'm not even in this space at all.  

I've been so much more aware of smells lately... 
so sensitive, and it feels right... 
like its calling me... telling me to be honest
telling me to give up all the intellectual pretense
to be part of something more natural
to sooth and be soothed by sensations
to love and be loved in relationship
 

Rainbows

Lunch break from my last Saturday class woot!   Haven't had much time to write lately. A few months ago I finished a journal and atatted writing in a new one - but I don't like the feel of it.  I tried to write in a new form, a stream of consciousness without punctuation or true English grammar... The words come out and the paper is too light and it doesn't translate to quality on paper.    

I'm reading zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance... And I like it, but at times it moves a little slow for me,  or becomes a little too convoluted.  The character has a wealth of information he draws from, but doesn't explain the points well enough, makes casual references... Is in great need of an editor,  but that plays into the personality of the character so it feels like author choice- not bad writing.  Still annoying nonetheless.  I like the ideas presented but I get more out of reading zen or Taoist or Hindu poems/mantras than some of the metaphors he is creating to analyze... I feel like I relate to the charters background in that, but recognize he is trying to offer a new perspective through a different lens to an audience that doesn't understand those sources.   Anyway. Yesterday as I was reading ( and falling asleep at the coffee shop), there was a line concerning what the narrator calls gumption - regarding the word "enthusiasmos" the root of enthusiasm - meaning the god within you... And I think I have heard that before but it was a lovely touch up... It was like a nice rainbow.    Sometimes a word or a picture or a color is just right and it fits with what came before like a puzzle piece you didn't know you were missing... And maybe it wasn't that perfect - but maybe it just adds to the picture...  That's what that word feels like to me.  And I will probably forget it again... But I would like to live my life with enthusiasm as the people who inspire me do.

The Mid-April Review

So I am sitting at a coffee shop, preparing to write a draft of my final lesson plan for the TEFL program.
This week was difficult at work, I have been losing all my prep time to do testing. Its not necessarily that I can't do some easy prep work while monitoring but I can't run around the school, I can't do anything that makes a lot of noise, I have to prepare before hand what I am doing... so its easier to just plan the classes at home or in-between other things and read a good book while I am monitoring. The book I chose to read is Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance.  I am only about half way through, but I love it so far. I have a feeling the book is about to get a little uglier, but I really enjoy the ins and outs of the chautauqua. Another issue at work this week has been the preparation to leave. It seems like the majority of the staff is leaving (most likely), however people have different time frames. I am leaving first, which feels good to me, because I'm getting out of the daily pressure. The pressure builds and builds until everyone is crabby with secrets. On Thursday we dismissed the students early and talked about our game plan. It seems like a good plan, but like all things still has some kinks to be worked out. I am most worried about some of the students who have abandonment issues, or histories of self harm. Its not that we are their family, but we often operate as a surrogate, a safe place, and these kids are resilient, but we try to create a safe space where they can practice that healthily... this might be like pulling the rug out from underneath them.
I am not sure that I have felt all that successful at work lately.  I have 4 classes that are mine to create... the improv/theater class is going ok, but I am worried they won't have enough time for their projects. The world history class  has had good days and bad...but I have gotten into this terrible habit of just giving them a boring timeline of text and sharing important events from over thee years. No pictures, no videos, basic discussion...  US History is fine, we are headed into civil rights stuff next week. We have been covering WW II and the kids are sick of it. RYW (my advisory writing class) in some ways has gone the best. We have had a bunch of good writing topics, and its felt really positive and chill for the most part.
The school is packed right now, we have 50+ students if they all show up and the rooms are so full there isn't chairs for everyone. I don't mind standing for an hour, but that leads to me lecturing more than I want to.
 A couple of fun things we did this week (to celebrate the good?)
RYW:  "What is a chair?" discussion.  This is maybe one of my favorite critical thinking thought experiments ever, and as the trimester has gone on I realized I was missing some of these types of activities. It was Friday and I didn't have a plan, other than a free work day (they have essays due on the movie 42).  But the students voted for a thought experiment so... 
World History: Wednesday we looked at maps of the world with interesting topics, like which countries have McDonalds? Which countries has England invaded? etc... and the students also filled in their own maps.  Friday we played some geography games, geoguessr, sheppardsoftware, globetrotter xl. The students really enjoyed them.
World History: "Y2K"  I asked the students to visualize and write a hypothetical about what their day would be like if Y2K had happened. What would life be like?  Now we think of it as a joke, but a lot of people spent millions at the time to update computer systems. 
People class: this week we talked about LGBT timeline, homophobia and heterosexism, and the concept of marriage. Good discussions and a lot of minds blown.
US History: I am not sure to what extent students understood the comparisons we were making, and I don't want them to hate the US, but just to realize we aren't better or worse... just a global power desperate to keep it.   But we discussed internment, war crimes and the ways the US benefited from WWII and the Cold War. One of my students said we were fighting the bad guys, and I asked him what made them bad and us good?   Just calling the propaganda into question lead to a lot of insight in the class.
Another issue this week is that one of my coworkers had a grandparent pass away and was having a lot of difficulties with her family. We try to keep shit separate as we can, but since we give so much to the place it also tends to mean we cant keep our own chaos from affecting the other staff or the program. My coworker will be out for the next few days for the funeral, which means we will be covering all of her classes. Its these little things that get us further behind on all the little shit we aren't keeping up with. For example I can't monitor testing when I have to cover her class.

I sent my passport off in the mail. I have tickets. I have done my taxes. I am looking into insurance and other financial matters. I am packing up my shit and cleaning my room. I am trying to organize things like addresses and passwords. I am excited and terrified and anxious and totally overwhelmed with waiting.

I really want my TEFL program to hurry up and get done... I like working with the students and get the most from the hands on experience, but we don't get enough time in the classroom -teaching. Much of it is observing our classmates, which is fine, but I observe my coworkers daily, so I have seen a lot of teaching techniques.

Mike listening to You and the Sound

Notice my short hair (natural blond highlights starting to kick in), notice my shaved face.
Victoria said I looked really young this week, to which I replied "I am so old" a statement that felt true a the time. I reflected on it on the way to observation, how I am quite young -as in, I don't know how to properly quit a job, don't know professional skills like writing emails, or scheduling meetings with people in other buildings, feel nervous about such things. I am young as in, I am hopeful, I am optimistic and have faith that things will work out. I don't know hardship, not really, I am innocent. I am old, as in worn out, overwhelmed with too much worry, so much burden holding on to others bullshit, their emotions, their drama, their expectations fears and paranoia. I am too involved and not involved enough because I am too old to be involved. I am rational and meticulous about too many things, and not the right things, but the things of habit. I am comfortable screwing up, and don't care "too much" because why do I need to impress?   I am too young, because I am easily influenced, I am easily won over, I have a hard time saying NO, I have a hard time standing for myself legitimately, I have a desire to impress, I have a desire to be seen, recognized, praised. I am too old because I have lived lifetimes of this, took on the burden of ghosts and spirits, of thought experiments and dreams, I am weighed down with the mass of stars, I am picky to a fault because I have experienced.


That's what I was initially thinking.  Then I thought about how I was a germaphobe because in so many of my past lives I died of disease. So anti-violence, because I died a bystander casualty of combat, seek justice and recognition for the underdog because I died a misunderstood death. 
All these things also happened in my short time here, but its just as easy to point to human history and claim it... and really isn't it true. What is a human?


A dream:

msmhsjsbwt circle entities

Tonight rather than do any of my homework (2 page reflection due tomorrow, final lesson plan due friday), I talked to some friends and watched stupid videos, and reread old poetry from high school and played around recording some of it.  I was thinking the quieter lonelier part of my night will be what my life is like if I stay abroad.  For some reason, I imagine I won't have a roommate... I see myself sitting on a mattress in a poorly decorated small apartment,  the only decorations will be stuff I have collected, charcoal and water color pictures I have done. I will sit there, playing a ukelele or a guitar I purchase. I will be strumming tunes poorly and singing or rapping old poems and songs. I will be desperately trying to stay busy, while purposely seeking to not be busy.  I will mess around in my own head and scribble increasingly insane notes, some of which I will scrawl on facebook and this here blog so as to document the deterioration. I will show up to work, whatever that looks like, determined and smiling to not let the mask slip, because it will be the only part of my day where human connection is demanded, and not a favor I do myself. Each night I will slip back into my craze, reading religious texts and science fiction. Planning futures and pasts.  I will be intruded upon by memories and feelings, and thoughts that I did not invite, that smack me around and call me back, anchors imbedded in my skull that once felt like hugs and now blunt trauma, and some days hugs, and some days I will allow them to pound me to sleep, fetal position, stained pillow.  I will wake up feeling drained and use this robot body to propel me through the day, I'll make some comment and someone will question in just the right way,  I'll spoon feed them my heart at first, a taste to see their reaction, and then when they seem satisfied I'll pour. Deluge, like the damned child I am.  As they disappear, I'll reconsider, buy a new suit and get into a new routine. I'll force feed myself nutrition. Shave my brazen face. Collect the soaked fragments, piece them back together, and change my salty pillow! The treasures will be stored somewhere, but nearby, a drawer, a cabinet, a dented box over expanded, easily accessible but no one will access them. I'll rededicate myself to the other, and people will wonder at my wisdom, call me an old soul, call me caring, call me.  And I'll answer, having taken the time to find who resides in my body.

Today

In my 15 minute extra snooze this morning I dreamt I was hanging with a friend and her husband,  they were annoyed with me and I was annoyed with them, but we were hanging last minute before they left for Paris and I left for my future... When my friend suddenly freaked out that she didn't have her birth control,  I woke up soon after and thought that seemed an off thing to dream. 

There is a nice you lady in my program who looks me in the eye and makes reasons to sit around and talk,  she asks me what I'm doing tonight even though  she has plans as if to say but I'd like it if you asked me to make plans... Or maybe I'm reading into it too much.   I'm leaving in two months.   She's gonna live in Japan some day.  

I've spent almost 2 years now with one foot in and one foot out. I am eager and ready to go. 
I dislike all the little things in my way. Immunizations and passports and bank accounts and certificates, tickets and storage, insurance and backup plans.

I have whittled away my relationships and responsibilities to people. 
I have strived to change aspects of myself, round edges and smooth the jagged bits. 
I have pushed myself to grow courage, patience and act the part even when I am not confident. 
I have given up a lot of stuff, disentangled myself from attachments.
And it has left me with a sort of feeling, that I am less, until I do more.
It feels perilous, I am off kilter, and if I suddenly needed to stay, I'd need a new anchor to hold me, give me purpose. 

Some of it is intentional, some has been done for me, and some has been subconscious, but my assessment of myself is that I do not feel called here anymore. 
Half my heart is gone already. 

Mike’s Trip (possible places to visit)

Columbia (3 weeks)

                Bogota

                Zipaquira

                Guatavita

                Tunja

                Villa De Leyva

                Santa Marta

                Taganga

                Cartagena

                Mompos

                Palenque

                Medellin

Santa Fe De Antioquia

                Salento

                Cali

                Popayan

                San Agustin

Ecuador (3 weeks)

                Quito

                Banos

                Rumicucho

                Pululahua

                Otavalo

                Ibarra

                Guayaquil

                Cuenca

                Ingapirca

                Bahia de Caraquez

                Manta

                Puerto Lopez

Peru (3-4 weeks)

                Lima

                Trujillo

                Chan Chan

                Cajamarca

                Kuelap

                Arequipa

                Nazca

                Ayacucho

                Huancayo

                Puno

                Sillustani

                Cutimbo

                Cuzco

                Machu Pichu & Sacred Valley

Bolivia (3 weeks)

                La Paz

                Tiwanaku

                Copacabana

                Isla Del Sol

                Puno **Peru

                Oruro

                Cochabamba

                Sucre

                Potosi

                Uyani   & Salar de Uyani

Tarija

Santa Cruz          

Paraguay (1-1.5 weeks)

                Asuncion

                Encarnacion & Trinidad y Jesus

                Chaco *Filadelfia?

                Ciudad Del Este

Brazil (3-3.5 weeks)

                Foz de Iguacu

                Rio de Janeiro

                Sao Paulo

                Ouro Preto

                Buzios

                Paraty

                Curitiba

                Ilha do mel

                Porto Alegre

                Belo Horizonte

Uruguay(1-2 weeks)

                Montevideo

                Colonia del Sacramento

                Chuy

                Maldonado

                Punta del Este

                La Paloma

                Punta Del Diablo

                Parque Nacional Santa Teresa

Argentina( 2-3 weeks)

                Buenos Aires

                Rosario

                Santa Fe

                Mendoza

                Cordoba

                Bahia Blanca

                Patagonia Region?

                Lake District region?

Chile (1 week)

                Santiago

                Valparaiso

Guianas (1.5 weeks)

Georgetown, Guyana

Paramaribo, Suriname

Cayenne, FR Guiana

Kouro, FR Guiana