I went yard sale hunting this weekend, as I tend to do when I don't have much else to keep me at home or in bed on a Saturday morning. I fancy myself quite the savvy yard sale girl and I have been known to come home with more than enough things to decorate, paint, sew, or share with only five dollars and some change. This Saturday morning I made myself some coffee, got out of bed somewhat early, and headed out to see what I could find. Apparently, this weekend was not to be the stuff of yard sale legends as others have been. The first one I found had mostly baby clothes and toys, nothing a girl like myself would find very useful. The second one had some games (Girl Talk was particularly tempting) and costume jewelry, again nothing I could validate purchasing however. But the third one, that magical number three. It wasn't so much as what I purchased at this yard sale as what I walked away with that made this stop so interesting and worth sharing.
The woman was probably in her mid to late forties, small, with very tanned skin and short hair. She was a fireball, running around picking things up, placing tags on household objects, chatting and bartering like a pro. She had some amazingly interesting things for sale; southwestern artwork, coffee mugs of all types and shapes, candles and holders, a bamboo designed shower curtain, dumbells, books...the list could go on and on. She was chatting with another customer, an older man looking for an air conditioning unit, and I overheard her say something about living in Arizona. So naturally I had to interject, as I am known to do when it comes to...ok anything. "Where in Arizona did you live?" I asked.
"Flagstaff, northern state."
"Oh," I smiled, "I used to live there when I was a kid! I still go back as much as I can."
"I went to college there," She smiled back, "lets see, I was there in 1982 until about 90 or so."
I had obviously been wrong about her age.
"My parents went there too," I was getting excited, "my mom use to own a little vintage clothing shop at the bottom floor of the Monte Vista...."
"Past Times." She said. I was stunned. She actually knew of the shop? No one I had ever met in all of my years of traveling who had ever spent time in Flagstaff EVER knew of the shop. It had not been open very long before my parents divorced and it was, lets be honest, a long time ago.
"Yes! I can't believe you knew if it!"
"Oh honey, I remember that shop, I knew the girl who helped man the shop."
"Dawn?" I reached far back into my memory. I had only been seven or eight when the girl worked there.
"Dawn."
We continued talking about things she remembered and things I remembered, how the town was now, when I had last been back and so on. Of course eventually she asked, "So how did you end up in Rapid City?" All the while we were talking she was still moving, still bounding around the yard after customers, her thin arms in perpetual motion. I proceeded to tell her what I do for a living, that my job brought me to Rapid City, that I just quit my job and was focusing on myself for a while, "That's lovely," she said, "Do you like it here?"
"Sometimes." I said.
"Well then do you plan to move again?" She asked, finally stopping and looking at me right in eyes.
"I would like to," I shrugged, "eventually."
"Well if you don't like it here then why are you here?"
"I have reasons to be here, I have a job and I have an apartment..."
"Bullshit," she laughed, "those things can be replaced. You have to do better than that."
So I gave her another reason why I was here, a little more personal of a reason. And no, my dears, I will not share that with you here. However, I am sure it must have been a very good reason, because she smiled and placed her hand on my arm,
"So it seems to me that you are exactly where you ought to be." She smiled. I probably blushed, I thought people were watching us at this point, "don't ever let money or things keep you from what you want, and don't overlook the possibilities that are sometimes right in front of you. You'll miss out."
"Well, I guess I already knew that." I laughed, "I just forget sometimes."
"Where would you like to go when you leave here?" She asked. I thought for a moment, and told her. She smiled again and laughed out loud, "brand new and far away, just how I like it!" And again, no, that answer will not be shared quite yet. The woman turned, obviously feeling that our conversation was at an end. As she walked away to go attend to the lives of other customers she said, "I think you have a lot ahead of you missy. I can see it in your eyes. You go where you want and be with who you want and don't you even let anyone or anything stop you, especially money, or you'll end up dead before you're 40."
I came home with a new shower curtain and a mug with Stonehenge on it.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Saturday, August 27, 2011
High five 2005
Once upon a time, long long ago and far far away there was a girl. She was very small, petite, with jet dark hair and porcelain white skin. She was very pretty. I would see her out and about and would always be impressed with her. She always seemed to have a smile for everyone and she seemed to be very, well, cool. But for some reason, people really disliked her. I never knew why though, I just knew that girls who I was acquainted with would call her names, say that she was trouble and to watch your back. Even men seemed to dislike her, whether it was because she would not give them much attention or perhaps there was just something about her that they were put off by. I never really spoke to her, not out of being rude but simply because we had never been introduced and even in the informal and intoxicated Cincinnati music scene I still had a hard time approaching strangers without introduction. I had a friend who went out with her a few times, it didn't work out, but he never said anything bad about her. There was a clique of girls and I would watch them stare her down, whisper about her, make fun of her when she was drunk at a show. All the while I was very confused as to where all of this animosity came from. Oh, I am sure she was not perfect, but hell, that's no reason to immediately dislike someone. I am sure she had ex-boyfriends who cared torches and broken hearts and hurt feelings because of her (she was really quite pretty) but whose business is that of ours? And I am sure that she argued with people, had friends that she fought with, had family that she didn't always get along with, but none of that seemed like any reason to dislike her. That pretty much sums us ALL up.
But I am fooling myself, and most likely not you. I bought into it. I listened to those girls, to those men. I didn't like her either. If everyone thought she was trouble she MUST be. If that guy said that he saw her kissing two different men in two different days, well, then she must be a terrible person. Oh that haircut? Terrible. And how pathetic is it that she is at the show alone? Who does she think she is, walking around like she is so hot to trot?
People can be very terrible to each other.
What I remember most though, is feeling bad after a time. Because there she was, time and time again out and about. Always just as charming, always smiling, and somehow, never seeming to be bothered by the assholes (including myself). I think she probably was bothered, but she did an excellent job of never showing it. I wish I had got to know her, I bet she had a wicked record collection.
I would like to give her a high five.
But I am fooling myself, and most likely not you. I bought into it. I listened to those girls, to those men. I didn't like her either. If everyone thought she was trouble she MUST be. If that guy said that he saw her kissing two different men in two different days, well, then she must be a terrible person. Oh that haircut? Terrible. And how pathetic is it that she is at the show alone? Who does she think she is, walking around like she is so hot to trot?
People can be very terrible to each other.
What I remember most though, is feeling bad after a time. Because there she was, time and time again out and about. Always just as charming, always smiling, and somehow, never seeming to be bothered by the assholes (including myself). I think she probably was bothered, but she did an excellent job of never showing it. I wish I had got to know her, I bet she had a wicked record collection.
I would like to give her a high five.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
I am and always will be...
...terrible with fear. The worry kind of fear. I get it from my Papa who worries about the family like it is his job. When I screw up, when I hurt someone or someone gets angry with me I worry. I can't sleep, I fear being left behind, I don't eat, and until the situation is talked about, hugged out, and maybe a few tears (on my part) are shed I can't think much about anything. I am sure this is unhealthy in so many ways but when I care about someone, no matter in what facet I am connected to them, this is just the way I react. The idea that my mindless actions could hurt or anger someone just tears me up into pieces.
My favorite of the Four Agreements (insert "ack" sound here) is 'take nothing personally', but when you are the one doing the damage, how does this work? How am I suppose to move throughout my day thinking 'oh hell, I fucked up. Oh well, doesn't matter'. It does matter. I can't even begin to explain how many times just in the past few months I have worried and fretted and cried and made myself sick over the fear that I may have hurt someone. Despite the common misconception that most people are ass holes who live only for their own self preservation, I am in fact a believer that people are not like this at all. I believe this because I know I am not. When I care, I care a lot (oh! Insert Faith No More 'We Care A Lot) and when I love I love wholly and when I screw up, well, I seem to do that to a pretty damn good extent as well. I had a boyfriend, who will remain nameless, in my mid twenties who was not the best boyfriend to be honest. He cheated on me, he lied to me, he would do things just to plant that seed of fear and I still believe to this day that he enjoyed watching the downward spiral when the fear and worry took full control. It was the the worst and most damaging of relationships I have ever had, and I was too blinded by what I thought I saw in him to just...up and leave. When we finally did break up he said something to me that has haunted me and hurt me more than any other sentence ever had. When I asked him why he did what he did, why he enjoyed seeing me react with such fear and concern he said, "Sarah, you have a big heart, and you have a lot of love to give. I wonder if you will ever find anyone who will be able to shoulder that kind of love, if anyone will ever want to." Sure, it sounds somewhat nice, but under those kind-like words was another jab, to plant another seed of fear. That I will be alone. Oh, he was such an ass.
We all eventually find some sort of balance in our lives with fear and worry. We worry about people, about money, about our futures, our children, our future children. I have been lucky that the friends that have stuck with me through years of tumultuous passion understand that this is just Sarah. I have dated people who have been able to take a step back and bring me down when I am so worked up and sick with worry, even when they are STILL fuming with anger. I have a mother who will answer my calls in the middle of the night when I can't sleep because of something that is beating on my brain. This is just how it works. I will always be affected by fear, I will most likely over think and be reactionary, and the people that know this will also be blessed to know that there is someone out there who cares for them so much and with such honest dedication that they will always have someone who fears and worries for them, until they get home. Until they are safe. Until they are not angry. Until they are happy.
My favorite of the Four Agreements (insert "ack" sound here) is 'take nothing personally', but when you are the one doing the damage, how does this work? How am I suppose to move throughout my day thinking 'oh hell, I fucked up. Oh well, doesn't matter'. It does matter. I can't even begin to explain how many times just in the past few months I have worried and fretted and cried and made myself sick over the fear that I may have hurt someone. Despite the common misconception that most people are ass holes who live only for their own self preservation, I am in fact a believer that people are not like this at all. I believe this because I know I am not. When I care, I care a lot (oh! Insert Faith No More 'We Care A Lot) and when I love I love wholly and when I screw up, well, I seem to do that to a pretty damn good extent as well. I had a boyfriend, who will remain nameless, in my mid twenties who was not the best boyfriend to be honest. He cheated on me, he lied to me, he would do things just to plant that seed of fear and I still believe to this day that he enjoyed watching the downward spiral when the fear and worry took full control. It was the the worst and most damaging of relationships I have ever had, and I was too blinded by what I thought I saw in him to just...up and leave. When we finally did break up he said something to me that has haunted me and hurt me more than any other sentence ever had. When I asked him why he did what he did, why he enjoyed seeing me react with such fear and concern he said, "Sarah, you have a big heart, and you have a lot of love to give. I wonder if you will ever find anyone who will be able to shoulder that kind of love, if anyone will ever want to." Sure, it sounds somewhat nice, but under those kind-like words was another jab, to plant another seed of fear. That I will be alone. Oh, he was such an ass.
We all eventually find some sort of balance in our lives with fear and worry. We worry about people, about money, about our futures, our children, our future children. I have been lucky that the friends that have stuck with me through years of tumultuous passion understand that this is just Sarah. I have dated people who have been able to take a step back and bring me down when I am so worked up and sick with worry, even when they are STILL fuming with anger. I have a mother who will answer my calls in the middle of the night when I can't sleep because of something that is beating on my brain. This is just how it works. I will always be affected by fear, I will most likely over think and be reactionary, and the people that know this will also be blessed to know that there is someone out there who cares for them so much and with such honest dedication that they will always have someone who fears and worries for them, until they get home. Until they are safe. Until they are not angry. Until they are happy.
Monday, August 15, 2011
What the heck is a studio era film and why should I care?
Because, young grasshopper, if you take away the special effects, the surround sound, the Pixar style animation, and pretty much everything else that makes up a film of today all you have left is...acting and storyline. That is all. Of course films from the the classic studio era (1929 to roughly 1949) had what was then to be called special effects but lets be honest, we are all a little over stimulated at this point to be impressed by these effects. This is not to say that I don't love films today, I just saw Rise of the Planet of the Apes and loved it, I just have a particular if not odd interest in the classic studio period.
For those who don't know, the Studio Era was defined such because there were eight major studios that actually owned the theaters that films were being shown in. This resulted in a production of so many films, at such an amazing speed, that if they were to be replicated by today's standards...well...we would have nothing to do for second dates. The studios were entities among themselves, actors signed specifically with certain producers, they had their own social organization (police, writers, directors, caterers, etc.) and it was a glorious time for fantastic films, as well as...well...crap. The beginning of this era is also defined as the development of sound with film, just as a side note. The end most likely correlating with the fall of RKO, which is a whole different story itself. But I digress.
Now that you are a full fledged expert on the Gold Age of Hollywood (okay, well do your homework) I can dive into the point of my story. I love this time period in film. I love it. I sometimes have fantasies about opening a vintage clothing store (like my mother did) and selling only 1940's fashions. I sit out in the sun and read biographies about classic film actresses and listen to big band music. Men who can dance are sexy to me, and good god...what I wouldn't give to be able to live in Los Angeles in 1939. Ah well, here I am, a grown up punk of a kid living in South Dakota and pinching pennies for that Turner Classic Movies Cruise (oh yes, hence the inspiration for this post). I have the clothes, I can have the hair...comeon I am ready for my closeup! So today, I was discussing my absolute love for classic films (even the silent films) to a young 20 year old who just looked at me like I was telling her about how I enjoyed eating cats. I tried to explain to her that if one would dredge away the "extras" of so many modern movies you would left with piss poor storytelling and even more piss poor acting. That the classic films allow for your mind to create its own parallels, they allow for your imagination to make comparisons to your own life that Transformers simply doesn't allow. Its like the Hitchcock theory of horror; it is more frightening to imagine what is happening rather than to see it. The same goes for so many other brilliant films.
I had a boyfriend once who would get bored and angry with me for going off on tangents when I saw a classic film that struck me, I should have known it was never going to work.
So, I would like to share with you some of the films that I find are the most poignant, striking, and brilliant of their time, and the lessons I have learned from them. Of course this does not account for ALL great films of this time, just the ones that have touched me and helped me through good times and bad. If you haven't seen them, I recommend that you fire up your netflix and get to getting!
Never Let Anyone Call You Names: Do you think that Kate Hepburn would have allowed Spencer Tracy to call her names? No of course not! This doesn't pertain to any specific film, per se, but it is more of a statement of strong female leads of this time as a whole. Think of all of those famous film slaps. The woman, scorned. The man, angry. What does she do? She doesn't allow it to happen twice. I think most women (and men) have one relationship in which they are verbally abused and you are allowed your one screw up, but after that, oh no my dear. Those brave, brash, and ballsy women of the 1940's screen gems would never allow themselves to be called "bitch" or "skank" or anything else derogatory. That was what made them great.
Love Adheres to No Racial Boundaries: The Bitter Tea of General Yen. Here was the first film to explore the idea of inter-racial love, even amidst war time. 1933 and Frank Capra was hailed as a FAILURE for this film. No inter- racial kiss had ever been shown until this film it was appalling to the public at the time. However, in retrospect, the film has been recognized and celebrated for its portrayal of war, love, and death.
Forgiveness is Powerful: The Imitation of Life. 1934. Granted, another racially poignant film (known for having Louise Beavers play an African American housekeeper who becomes independently wealthy, another first) this film is more about the power of forgiveness, which is only exposed at the end of the film. It is heartwrenching and lovely at the same time.
Words Can Hurt: The Childrens Hour. Okay, so 1961 is a little late for the Studio Era but I think this film has a good place in this list. A young Audrey Hepburn (my favorite) and Shirley MacLaine have to fight a community after rumors circulate that they are lesbians. No where in the movie does anyone say that this is wrong, except for the antagonists, and it is heartbreaking to see the damage that thoughtless and hurtful rumors can do to the lives of others.
You Can't Always Get What You Want, But Sometimes You Get What You Need: Sorry Jagger, I had to steal it. Kitty Foyle (1940, Ginger Rogers!) is the story of a young woman torn between the man she wants and the man she has, between the life she dreams about and the life she is offered. It is a true cliffhanger at the end of the film, when she gets into the New York cab and you are never quite sure where she is going. Oh its just lovely!
A Good Man Never Gives Up: again, a little late but hell, its Cary Grant! 1957's an Affair to Remember. Of course it is the remake of the 1939 film so I think it still counts. The cruise! The city! The iconic Empire State Building, standing as tall and strong as their love! Ok, I get carried away, but how wonderful is it to think that that somewhere, we may all find someone who loves us and cares about us so much that it would span decades, despair, and denial. Personally, I can't get enough of it, but I am a soft hearted liberal.
Well, I am sure I can make the list go on and on and on...but I will stop here. I hope that anyone reading this takes the time to see some of these films and maybe even let me know what you think! Until then, shine on you Hollywoodland starlets and stars....
For those who don't know, the Studio Era was defined such because there were eight major studios that actually owned the theaters that films were being shown in. This resulted in a production of so many films, at such an amazing speed, that if they were to be replicated by today's standards...well...we would have nothing to do for second dates. The studios were entities among themselves, actors signed specifically with certain producers, they had their own social organization (police, writers, directors, caterers, etc.) and it was a glorious time for fantastic films, as well as...well...crap. The beginning of this era is also defined as the development of sound with film, just as a side note. The end most likely correlating with the fall of RKO, which is a whole different story itself. But I digress.
Now that you are a full fledged expert on the Gold Age of Hollywood (okay, well do your homework) I can dive into the point of my story. I love this time period in film. I love it. I sometimes have fantasies about opening a vintage clothing store (like my mother did) and selling only 1940's fashions. I sit out in the sun and read biographies about classic film actresses and listen to big band music. Men who can dance are sexy to me, and good god...what I wouldn't give to be able to live in Los Angeles in 1939. Ah well, here I am, a grown up punk of a kid living in South Dakota and pinching pennies for that Turner Classic Movies Cruise (oh yes, hence the inspiration for this post). I have the clothes, I can have the hair...comeon I am ready for my closeup! So today, I was discussing my absolute love for classic films (even the silent films) to a young 20 year old who just looked at me like I was telling her about how I enjoyed eating cats. I tried to explain to her that if one would dredge away the "extras" of so many modern movies you would left with piss poor storytelling and even more piss poor acting. That the classic films allow for your mind to create its own parallels, they allow for your imagination to make comparisons to your own life that Transformers simply doesn't allow. Its like the Hitchcock theory of horror; it is more frightening to imagine what is happening rather than to see it. The same goes for so many other brilliant films.
I had a boyfriend once who would get bored and angry with me for going off on tangents when I saw a classic film that struck me, I should have known it was never going to work.
So, I would like to share with you some of the films that I find are the most poignant, striking, and brilliant of their time, and the lessons I have learned from them. Of course this does not account for ALL great films of this time, just the ones that have touched me and helped me through good times and bad. If you haven't seen them, I recommend that you fire up your netflix and get to getting!
Never Let Anyone Call You Names: Do you think that Kate Hepburn would have allowed Spencer Tracy to call her names? No of course not! This doesn't pertain to any specific film, per se, but it is more of a statement of strong female leads of this time as a whole. Think of all of those famous film slaps. The woman, scorned. The man, angry. What does she do? She doesn't allow it to happen twice. I think most women (and men) have one relationship in which they are verbally abused and you are allowed your one screw up, but after that, oh no my dear. Those brave, brash, and ballsy women of the 1940's screen gems would never allow themselves to be called "bitch" or "skank" or anything else derogatory. That was what made them great.
Love Adheres to No Racial Boundaries: The Bitter Tea of General Yen. Here was the first film to explore the idea of inter-racial love, even amidst war time. 1933 and Frank Capra was hailed as a FAILURE for this film. No inter- racial kiss had ever been shown until this film it was appalling to the public at the time. However, in retrospect, the film has been recognized and celebrated for its portrayal of war, love, and death.
Forgiveness is Powerful: The Imitation of Life. 1934. Granted, another racially poignant film (known for having Louise Beavers play an African American housekeeper who becomes independently wealthy, another first) this film is more about the power of forgiveness, which is only exposed at the end of the film. It is heartwrenching and lovely at the same time.
Words Can Hurt: The Childrens Hour. Okay, so 1961 is a little late for the Studio Era but I think this film has a good place in this list. A young Audrey Hepburn (my favorite) and Shirley MacLaine have to fight a community after rumors circulate that they are lesbians. No where in the movie does anyone say that this is wrong, except for the antagonists, and it is heartbreaking to see the damage that thoughtless and hurtful rumors can do to the lives of others.
You Can't Always Get What You Want, But Sometimes You Get What You Need: Sorry Jagger, I had to steal it. Kitty Foyle (1940, Ginger Rogers!) is the story of a young woman torn between the man she wants and the man she has, between the life she dreams about and the life she is offered. It is a true cliffhanger at the end of the film, when she gets into the New York cab and you are never quite sure where she is going. Oh its just lovely!
A Good Man Never Gives Up: again, a little late but hell, its Cary Grant! 1957's an Affair to Remember. Of course it is the remake of the 1939 film so I think it still counts. The cruise! The city! The iconic Empire State Building, standing as tall and strong as their love! Ok, I get carried away, but how wonderful is it to think that that somewhere, we may all find someone who loves us and cares about us so much that it would span decades, despair, and denial. Personally, I can't get enough of it, but I am a soft hearted liberal.
Well, I am sure I can make the list go on and on and on...but I will stop here. I hope that anyone reading this takes the time to see some of these films and maybe even let me know what you think! Until then, shine on you Hollywoodland starlets and stars....
Sunday, August 14, 2011
The woman who follows the crowd....
"...will usually go no further than the crowd. The woman who walks alone is likely to find herself in places no one has ever been before" A. Einstein.
I don't believe that this quote is necessarily about living along, or even being alone. No, as much as small snippets of well known quotes can be up to individual interpretation I have always found this quote to simply mean that one should always follow their own path, and that may not mean alone, but with others that are part of the journey, sometimes to the end, sometimes just a partner along the way.
Throughout my travels I have met people that have been a part of my travels, people who have encouraged me to keep moving forward, to take the chances that others may deem too risky, too selfish. To those people, I can wave off and leave behind with no consequence or care. Those who have been a part of the ongoing journey I keep with me, no matter how far apart we may be now. If I had never been prived to such adventurous and brilliant souls I would have never been so brave as to take the job in Las Vegas, where I would have never met a young man who would in turn teach me how little I really knew about myself. I would have never adventured back to Arizona, would have never had my heart broken to such an extent that the sun itself seemed to never rise. This would in turn take me Brooklyn, where friends opened their hearts and doors and I came to realize just how much I truly love the expansive skies and ponderosa pines, and...in the end I would have never taken a deep breath and come back to South Dakota, to a town most of my friends have never heard of. It may seem that I did these things on my own, but in fact, I was guided and encouraged and supported all along the way by people who understood that sometimes walking a different path is the normal path in itself.
I share this only because I have begun to also see how many people are held back by their own fears of what should be done, rather than what could be done. I can imagine that everyone, at some point, fears being alone. Fears that the decisions that they make will push others away, that these decisions will be "poor decisions", fearing change and the unknown. Believe me, I understand that. I am quite a creature of habit, I order pizza almost every Sunday, I frequent the same bars, I buy the same kind of chip at the store. But I also know that with the partnerships of people who will stand by me and support me, walk with me apart from the crowd, I am never alone.
Humans are, in truth, social creatures. We require some sort of companionship to feel that we belong. We all want to love, to be loved, in whatever sense that means to the individual. That is how we became what we are (here comes the anthropologist). We sat around fires late into the night when we were just an infant species and this created a time of the day in which we no longer needed to hunt or fight or do the daily tasks required for survival. While the rest of the planet was shadowed in night, we had light and we began to talk. We told stories, we shared our days, and we started to dream. This is what began to ignite our imaginations, to spark parts of our brains that would have otherwise been dormant. We began to dream. It was in these dreams, these wonderings, that I believe we began to think and then...we began to do.
I know that seems a species centric, but hey, I am a little partial to the homo sapiens and I have this fantastic idea that eventually, those who really stick to their metaphorical guns and do all that they long and hope and dream of doing will find partners along the way to walk that path with. Friends, family, loves. Some just guiding hands along the way, and if we are luck someone who will share the journey with us. In a sense, a moving crowd. So, although Einstein may have been referring to the need to break away from the crowd, perhaps he should have inferred that the crowd itself can change, we just have to bring them with us.
I don't believe that this quote is necessarily about living along, or even being alone. No, as much as small snippets of well known quotes can be up to individual interpretation I have always found this quote to simply mean that one should always follow their own path, and that may not mean alone, but with others that are part of the journey, sometimes to the end, sometimes just a partner along the way.
Throughout my travels I have met people that have been a part of my travels, people who have encouraged me to keep moving forward, to take the chances that others may deem too risky, too selfish. To those people, I can wave off and leave behind with no consequence or care. Those who have been a part of the ongoing journey I keep with me, no matter how far apart we may be now. If I had never been prived to such adventurous and brilliant souls I would have never been so brave as to take the job in Las Vegas, where I would have never met a young man who would in turn teach me how little I really knew about myself. I would have never adventured back to Arizona, would have never had my heart broken to such an extent that the sun itself seemed to never rise. This would in turn take me Brooklyn, where friends opened their hearts and doors and I came to realize just how much I truly love the expansive skies and ponderosa pines, and...in the end I would have never taken a deep breath and come back to South Dakota, to a town most of my friends have never heard of. It may seem that I did these things on my own, but in fact, I was guided and encouraged and supported all along the way by people who understood that sometimes walking a different path is the normal path in itself.
I share this only because I have begun to also see how many people are held back by their own fears of what should be done, rather than what could be done. I can imagine that everyone, at some point, fears being alone. Fears that the decisions that they make will push others away, that these decisions will be "poor decisions", fearing change and the unknown. Believe me, I understand that. I am quite a creature of habit, I order pizza almost every Sunday, I frequent the same bars, I buy the same kind of chip at the store. But I also know that with the partnerships of people who will stand by me and support me, walk with me apart from the crowd, I am never alone.
Humans are, in truth, social creatures. We require some sort of companionship to feel that we belong. We all want to love, to be loved, in whatever sense that means to the individual. That is how we became what we are (here comes the anthropologist). We sat around fires late into the night when we were just an infant species and this created a time of the day in which we no longer needed to hunt or fight or do the daily tasks required for survival. While the rest of the planet was shadowed in night, we had light and we began to talk. We told stories, we shared our days, and we started to dream. This is what began to ignite our imaginations, to spark parts of our brains that would have otherwise been dormant. We began to dream. It was in these dreams, these wonderings, that I believe we began to think and then...we began to do.
I know that seems a species centric, but hey, I am a little partial to the homo sapiens and I have this fantastic idea that eventually, those who really stick to their metaphorical guns and do all that they long and hope and dream of doing will find partners along the way to walk that path with. Friends, family, loves. Some just guiding hands along the way, and if we are luck someone who will share the journey with us. In a sense, a moving crowd. So, although Einstein may have been referring to the need to break away from the crowd, perhaps he should have inferred that the crowd itself can change, we just have to bring them with us.
To jump over the edge
So I have lost access to my today-she blog, which is probably just fine being that I have been neglecting it for the past few weeks, along with so many other things in my life. So, I have jumped ship and began the endeavour that will be Intrepidity. It seems as if this is the blog I should have been writing during those years that I was traveling, jumping from project to project as an archaeologist and shovel bum. But ah, adventure is not only found along open roads and on the top of mountains, it is also found in the ridiculous and rash and spontaneous things that we choose to do at any given time. One of my least admirable qualities, although arguable, is that I get bored. I get bored and anxious and I take my mantras a bit too seriously.
I quit my very good job with the intention of following that ever illusive happiness and in turn have found myself in a very different state of living here in the ever lovely state of South Dakota.
But I am happy, and there are adventures to be had that my career has kept me from for the five years. I am exploring everyday with a different set of eyes, as Sarah the girl, not Sarah the archaeologist. And it is exciting.
"It is the intrepidity of those who take the chance and jump that makes others even dare to look over the edge"
I quit my very good job with the intention of following that ever illusive happiness and in turn have found myself in a very different state of living here in the ever lovely state of South Dakota.
But I am happy, and there are adventures to be had that my career has kept me from for the five years. I am exploring everyday with a different set of eyes, as Sarah the girl, not Sarah the archaeologist. And it is exciting.
"It is the intrepidity of those who take the chance and jump that makes others even dare to look over the edge"
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