In one of my early posts I reference reaching the top of a mountain, sitting a spell with a sense of accomplishment and the satisfaction of completing the big leg of a journey.  I speak of looking back on my traveled path, and being able to see the little side trips I took along the way.  Of reaching dead ends and having to retrace my steps to resume my journey upward. Read More…

Here’s our overnight campsite in Raton, New Mexico.  We feel like we’re at the top of the world, in many ways .  The mountain views are strange and wonderful to us flatlanders.

We’re told by the management that we’re in bear and mountain lion country, and we should definitely Read More…

This morning as we began breaking camp in Santa Rosa, one of our traveling neighbors stopped by to visit.  This hispanic gent told me he grew up 10 miles south of where we were standing, and grew up living off the land. . . had to drive dirt roads for miles to collect water . . . grew their own veggies . . . Read More…

photo by foooooey

This newest adventure is really stirring my pot.  I’m getting all mixed up, like a gumbo.  Normal routine?  Gone.  Nada.  Zip.  Waking earlier, getting moving earlier; different foods than normal; forgetting to eat lunch; fitful sleeping (a different bed); the sense of being in a fog.  Yes, call me Gumbo, and we’ve only been on the road for two days!  Only 178 more to go.  I should be out of the fog by then. . . Read More…

photo by Richard.Fisher

The following is from Ken Keyes Jr’s book The Hundredth Monkey, written in the early 1980s.  I haven’t read the book, just looked it up after someone told me about it years ago.  I believe this particular account of the observation has since been questioned.

Nonetheless:  it reads like a fairy tale, and I’m a great believer in fairy tales  having profound messages hidden in them.  I like the message I find here. Read More…

They must often change, who would be constant in happiness and wisdom.  Confucius

I believe . . .  I think . . .  Seems to me . . .  Maybe . . .

These are words I use a lot, most often at the beginning of a sentence.  I’m now challenging myself here: why do I do that?  These words speak of uncertainty.  Am I uncertain, and uncertain about everything?

Do I want to be certain? Is this even possible?

Beliefs change.  Thoughts change.  Appearances change.  Realizations change.  Am I okay with this?

I was told that to grow is to change, and to change often.   This makes sense, and I see the evidence everywhere in nature — and nature is where lessons lie, right?  For me, anyway, since nature is where I choose to immerse myself.

Nature speaks of change; of seasons; of being true to one’s uniqueness and one’s purpose.  She speaks of harmony; and of acceptance, and surrender.  Nature just is.  This is what I love, and what I want:  to just BE.

Nature tells me that, in this uncertain world, there are three things I can be sure of —

I am.  I grow.  I change.

Where do your certainties lie, I wonder?