fecal excitement!

I can’t wait to poop in the woods again. The years that I pooped more in the outdoors than I did in toilets and slept more often on the ground than in a bed are a time that I’m always going to be longing for in some part of me. And now I get to go back! Summer in Alaska.

It’s going to rain every day pretty much. (I really hated that about Portland this winter. I am not sure why I feel so convinced that I won’t mind it so much if I’m in Alaska.) I’ll be outside, though, looking at fjords and whales and old-growth cedars and pebble beaches and dark pine-filled coastlines looming in the distance. Being outside in it will make it a lot more bearable. I think I got a little too in-my-head this winter. The rain felt like such an emotional barrier to going outside. My mother used to say, “You aren’t made of sugar! You’re not going to melt!” when I was bitching about getting wet. Snow is so beautiful, and you can go out and play in it and brush it off and not be wet.

But if I’m just living outside, there’s no barrier to cross. I don’t ever have to make a decision about whether or not being wet made being outside worth it. I’ll just be outside, and forced to enjoy it for whatever it’s worth. And it’s going to be worth a lot.

I’m pretty scared, though. That delicious kind of fear I always feel when I’m about to change pretty much every variable of my existence. And also, there are going to be a lot of black bears and no grizzlies on the island I’m going to. In the absence of grizzlies, coastal black bears tend to grow exceptionally large. When I told my dad where I was going he reminded me that he had shot the bear that I’ve been staring at in their living room for the past twenty years of my life on that exact same island. It’s a very big bear. I think I might try to do a little “no-more-bear-scare” therapy with the bear for the few weeks I’m home. Then, when I actually see one, I’ll hopefully be feeling a little less fight-or-flight and a little more calm evaluation of the situation. When I started working in the desert I was terrified of rattlesnakes but after three years of coming upon them I’m a lot less frightened of them and a lot more confident in how I should act around them.

Granted, I will be with a group of teenaged boys. I doubt we’ll get any of them to keep their mouths shut for long enough for us to even glimpse any ursine critters. So there’s that.

Something else about that I don’t like about living in the city is wanting things. Here, I am always seeing things that I could own if I would just…buy them. The clothes people wear in the city! They are beautiful. I covet them more than I care to admit. But, I don’t need much more than I already have in the way of clothing and when it comes down to it I will always just wear my most comfortable six outfits and only pull the other stuff out for a single appearance or so every year. And, since I pretty much suck at finding a proper job in the city, I can’t afford any of the things that I covet.

But in the woods! The only things I want are the things that are immediately useful. Having everything you own essentially stuck to your immediate mile radius certainly reduces the amount of stuff you want to be responsible for.

Alaska!

I sent a proposal to be a chef for a ten-day Buddhist retreat in Texas before heading to Alaska. It’s with a group who I have cooked for many times, as the assistant chef. The person I cooked for no longer wants to do it and I really, really want to. Going there and cooking for thirty people is an excellent way for me to clarify my mind and strengthen my heart.

Texas!

I worry that I just like going places too much. And that I don’t like staying places enough.