I am leaving again. 4 months has felt something like an eternity. as much as I have been anxious to go, suddenly I am a little horrified. I realize how important I have become for this business and how much I’ve grown up. my immediate presence here is required. as much as I can’t stand finland or majority of it’s population, I guess you get used to everything. life here is just so incredibly lame, and thus it makes it’s people lame. I think that makes most it’s people just certain kind of stupid ignorant that annoys the shit out of me. I had thought that if I just gave it time, certainly I would eventually like them again. but I really don’t. I have also become to understand why my sisters keeps no friends. it all makes sense now.
there is no speed, no action, no threat, nothing exciting. just mundane day to day. except mine. my day to day is actually fairly exciting and I really enjoy my job. if it wasn’t for the job, I wouldn’t be here. I have a hotel to run. I have a staff to manage and educate. in this amazing place. I have a clear action plan. I know what needs to be done to get things under control.
it’s been important for me to be here these 4 months. to learn what I have learned. to see the shape of things and learn to understand the finnish person again.
I am incredibly worried for my mom. somehow if I am by her side everyday, like I am, nothing bad can happen to her. I seem to think I can somehow save her. the truth is, nothing can save her and I have to start to find acceptance in the fact that no one lives forever. I have to be able to see a life beyond hers. as much as I don’t want to exists, if she doesn’t, I need to know I can.
she is ok now. she spent the day in a hospital recently, they were going to shock her heart. this blind and senseless agony that has no walls, no direction, no solution. the kind that makes you scream until you have nothing left. until there’s nothing left of you. the frustrating inability to help her.
why her. why us. why this. and why now.
I am scared to leave. I pray for more time. give us more time. please give us years. we are not done yet. I want to see my mom grow old. I want to grow old with her.
hold on, mom. I’ll be right back.
wait. wait. wait.
31 days. I am so giddy I can hardly sit still. there’s a regular flurry of text messages from the other side of the world of people wondering when the hell I get back and where the hell I am. I am planning rafting trips, buying skis, getting gear in order. making promises to myself that next year I will leave well before christmas.
november is the hardest month to make it through in Finland. in fact, I somewhat respect the people who do without binge drinking or offing themselves. you have to seriously focus on reminding yourself that you will make it through, it won’t always be like this. and the crushing darkness and helplessness you feel, will soon pass. it’s been 17 years since the last time I got to experience the finnish fall in it’s full glory. it’s something else to behold and no wonder the finns are to damn tough. you have to be. you have to endure.
in comparison, life in the us is child’s play. it’s so easy and such a joy everyday. it’s ridiculous how easy it is. lesser thing would make you a dough-boy.
I opened a clothing store. gave me something new to focus on to get through november. many people comment about my family’s energy to keep things moving and always being up to something. I say nothing, as I merely regard our action as a survival mechanism. never stop growing, never stop exploring. I’d rather die trying.
I am proud of my results. people compliment the store a lot. people walk in because they tell me it’s inviting. I am stoked for what we have accomplished in such a short amount of time. now that it’s up and running I have a moment to myself. is it time to ski yet?
in the mean while I watch all my friends post photos of their rafting trips, skiing trips, speed flying, rock climbing, mountain climbing, ice climbing, mountain biking. I miss home like crazy. it’s good to be busy enough I don’t have time to brood over all the fun everyone else is having. though I work hard, I still kinda feel like I don’t really work. what I get paid to do, feels more like a fun hobby.
someone recently asked me what my thoughts were about dying in the mountains. if I thought putting myself in risk of dying was worth the action. it’s occurred to me that I am not really afraid of dying. I mean I am, and I get scared like everyone else does. in fact, I get really scared. but I also often think that if that’s how I die, I am ok with it. I’d rather die in the mountains that in a car accident. or some other freak way to go. with as many people as have died recently in the mountains, those death becoming publicized in media, facing criticism from people whom don’t understand the drive, I find myself thinking I am actually happy for them. saddened that they went, yes, but still glad that was the way.
I don’t have a death wish of any kind. I drink life. but I have been engorging from that trough for long enough that I can truly say I am fulfilled. there are a million things I look forward to in life and want to grow old. I truly enjoy life, in it’s basic meager form. all it’s sufferings and moments of happiness, I am grateful for the amazing experience that it is. if I go, I’ll go with a smile on my face. everyone dies sometime.
bless this life. I’ll be in my church soon enough.
it takes two yoga classes to let go of my expectations. I come to my yoga mat to pray, to let go. two to make me breathe and remember who I am and where I am. to remind myself that I am actually right where I need to be. when did I stop being content? it takes a couple two hour drives with country folk music to remember who I am. to remember where my roots are.
I’ve been here long enough that who I am had become gray. I forget my strength. the power that make makes me. god damn it. ski. fly free. spread your winds. rip. soar. stop being anxious. time will come. let it happen. and if it doesn’t there’s nothing you could have done to make it otherwise. if it does, cross that bridge when you get there.
four months is a long time. but it’s not a life time. I still have more than a month to go. I am counting days now. when I yearn, I can keep reminding myself that as much as I have to give up now for this and my family. for the sake of my moms health, six months on the other side, feels just as long.
when I crest over Norris hill to Madison valley, I well up with tears. when I look down over the hill from virgnia city, I am breathless. when I cross the continental divide, I might just cry a little. drive jack creek again.
there isn’t a more amazing scenery anywhere else in the world. Madison Valley. no such freedom, no such grit. no such spirit.
it’s these dreams that keep me sane.
that’s what he replied after our first date. with a heart attached. I asked mom if that meant he’s crazy. mom thinks I am paranoid and delusional. perhaps.
today I see that I am.
I liked him alright. enough that I might like to get to know him a little better. as much as his reply startled me, while I think there’s something wrong with him, I realized that it’s hard for me to believe anyone would want anything with me or really be interested in me. what in the world could he possibly want?
perhaps because I don’t see how –in this day and age– I might have anything to offer. mainly because I feel like I don’t have any of me to spare. I don’t see the point in a relationship. fundamentally, I no longer understand how they take place. or why anyone would want to stay with me, or keep me. I don’t know how to fall for anyone, truly. like. to want someone. to lust someone. to love someone. to want to see someone, to want to spend time with someone. to make time.
sure, I make time for dear people in my life. I have many friends and family I love tremendously and love spending time with them. and make time.
hooking up with someone used to be easy. I was completely uninhibited to love someone. today I am completely in love with several people, but I don’t know intimacy. I don’t know how to be open and loving intimately. I expect them to treat me ill. someone, surely, any moment now, will let me know I am not good enough. that I am too far away, I am too fat or there’s something very wrong with me. and surely they’ll never want to see me again. it’s because of this that I don’t even entertain the possibility that someone might be interested in me. that someone might want something of me. is it because I understand that I have nothing to give, that I no longer have any of me to spare. that I don’t see the possibility of loving someone. one person.
I see how afraid I am. so there it is. the reason why I am incapable of having feelings for someone.
protection.
yup. I built walls. I am safe here.
maybe someday I will find a way not to despise the finns so much. maybe someday I will learn to love them again? friday night I ended up on what turned out to be a date, unbeknownst to me. it was painful. I was so annoyed about how painful it was and I was to nice to tell him to go fuck off and leave me alone. I feel like it’s hard to meet some finnish people when I feel like I live in such a different world. it makes me sad sometimes. yet, sometimes I meet a few that I am absolutely speechless and giddy with joy.they are rare.
what was he thinking? I am way too wild and free for you.
last night in yoga class I dreamt of the mountains. I prayed to the peaks. I know soon I will see the sun and look down to the valleys. I don’t want to give it up, but I am forced to. I am forced to give up some portion of it. how come no one understands that I cannot breathe here? that I’ll suffocate? how can you ever give up freedom when you’ve had it?
maybe someday I’ll find a way not to hate? it’s easy not to hate when I know I don’t really belong here. and when I know freedom awaits. but if it doesn’t, what would become of me?
time moves slowly. it seems like nothing changes, but one day you look back you realize everything has changed. I look on myself now. the person I see in the mirror looking back at me is beautiful. radiant and full of life. a person who no longer carries the weight of world with her. no longer carries that infinite sadness that woke her at night crying and worrying about all the things in life. and what has become.
new era.
I have let go. for the most part. I carry scars, but I don’t carry sadness. I can see that now. it was damn hard and seems like it took a long time. I am scarred for life, and that’s fine. the lines on my face are the story of who I am. nothing will ever be the same, but the change is ok. at times, good even. somethings I think I could have lived without, but I have accepted the things I cannot change.
when I had a long conversation with Eero last weekend, after some reflection I notice a distinct difference between then and now. I no longer need someone in my life. I am not in a hurry to find someone, I don’t have to try to find someone to be with. because I don’t need anyone. despite of who I am, all my downfalls and imperfections, I am good with myself.
I have a friend in me. I always have but now it’s different somehow. I am completely content in being single.
what brings on the biggest change from then to now, is the quest to seek and find has left me. I no longer have the urge to find someone to be with. as I no longer ache to get married an start a family, and this the entire perspective of relationships has changed. I realized recently that because I always sought to build something, I always sought to find someone to do this with, I ended up with people and in relationships merely because I was trying so hard to make it work. I cannot make someone want the things I want. now I don’t, in anyway, expect someone to be interested in the things I want. today I have a lot of appreciation for people’s differences and can adore them. I also have a tremendous amount of respect for the things other people want. should I meet someone who sees the world the way I do, and wants to live the way I do, I would only be delighted. it’s a rare thing to find tho and I don’t think I ever really will, but that’s ok too. perhaps due my my change in perspective my next relationship might be different. but I am in no hurry.
I come to my yoga mat to find acceptance. to connect with my mind and body. to allow myself –through pain and sweat– cleanse my thoughts. to let go, to find, to rebirth. or what ever it is I feel the need to work through at the time.
I do not come to my mat to experience resentment, judgement and anger.
I break the rules. all the time. I know this. Finland makes me want to break all the rules almost obsessively. I believe most rules were made to be broken and I’ve struggled with Finland since I was young. I always paint outside the lines and here it’s endlessly frustrating.
so I found a yoga studio I like going to. until I pissed off one of the yoga teachers. I was at a class with a new teacher. I don’t bring my hands together in vinyasa when I reach the top. there are a million variations of each pose and after practicing yoga for years, with a consistent practice at times in my life, sometimes lagging, but what has pretty much mounted to years of steady practice. I felt violated in my yoga practice. I felt resentment, judgement. frustration and anger.
I have never felt that way in a yoga room. my teachers have always encouraged listening to your own body, doing variations of each pose and doing what felt right to you that day. freedom of expression. I kept on with my practice, doing the poses with slight variations until she came over in the middle of the class and literally yelled at me. disrupting everyone’s practice at the same time.
we sat in the living room of the summer house, over late breakfast, with the weather outside. watching the magical grey stillness of the fall, it’s leaves on the ground. the storm over the lake with it’s wake beating over the shoreline rocks. this little room with tall windows, high ceilings, furniture from turn of the century and grandma’s crocheted table cloth. fire in the fire place. we talked for what seemed like hours. falling in love a little.
he’s like some harbor. why do I feel that way when I’m with him? like you were made for each other in some way. maybe I’m the only one who felt that way. and it’s ok. I just like knowing there are people like him out there.
I thought there was something about him when we skied together in montana for a couple days after our random encounter. I fell in love with him then. as a person. and I can keep falling in love with him now.
I don’t expect anything of it. I can love someone without it ever turning into anything other than a fantastic friendship. he is one of the most amazing people I have ever met. I adore him and I am amazed by him. having met him makes me daydream a little.
makes me wonderful a little.
for sometime now, probably since the last time I saw him in Helsinki, I keep having dreams about him. dreams where we hang out for hours. dreams where all we do is sit around and talk. no one has created that sort of reaction in me. not for what seems like ages. maybe never. until now haven’t really acknowledged that I actually adore him. like it hadn’t really occurred to me before.
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the evening before Vincent and Eero showed up at the hotel, I showed them around and we had dinner. we drove to the summer house, enjoyed the incredible Sauna there. slept in and after breakfast went on an excursion with the row boat in inclement weather. the best 24 hours in a long time. probably because I got to spend it with those two.
it’s like putting your life on pause. making sure you have no time to miss the freedom you left behind.
it’s that. the kind of freedom that’s hard to describe. hard to explain. how you can truly be free. where you never thought to find it. in ways you didn’t expect. but it’s there. in the hills, in the mountains, in the wide open ranges. gravel roads.
turpentine.
here freedom is sullen. time to think makes you sad. one night I was heading home, sat in the city bus watching the sullen faces. I turned on my music and remembered again what I have somewhere else. just be patient. just wait.
happiness in those small moments. little salvations.
I’ll be skiing again soon. but it’s really the countryside I miss the most. madison valley. the mud and the dirt. jack creek.
I’ve been too busy to miss anything yet. this time around the highway took me to a direction I didn’t care to go. there was a significant lack of excitement to reach the coast. each mile I knew took me further from home. further from where my heart belongs.
it wasn’t until I met Dakota Eldridge at the bar of the S gates at the Seattle airport and fell in love a little, that I realized exactly how full of love I am today. for what and for whom I am not sure. my heart is filled. you can be in love without having one person to direct all that love to. I love so much some days I feel like my heart is about to burst.
I sat down on my computer after a crazy few weeks now, turned on Jason Isbell, Brandi Carlile and let the music take me back to the peaks and valleys of the Madison valley. Ennis. Virginia City.
I have been getting lost in the hills of Madison range. my last weeks after guiding and before leaving I took to the hills and explored –with pepper spray in hand– the mountains in the Taylor Hilgards, the Sphinx and other peaks around. what the hell took me so long? it all started with the sphinx when I climbed it all by my lonesome one random monday. 4500 ft elevation gain took me about three hours. I sat on the saddle of the Helmet and the Sphinx for about 30 minutes to rest, but otherwise my summit time felt insanely fast. when I reached the summit I felt like I wanted to pass out and puke just because I didn’t bother to eat much. besides that.. I was amazed when I started doing better stock of the peaks in that range. they are largely left unexplored with long access trails. all the way south past Hebgen. must. go. exploring.
couple weeks ago I packed my crap, left my room, left Ennis, hung out in missoula with Britt for a night, kept on and met up with Kenny in the Dalles where we re-grouped and headed for the Deshutes river. three days of river running from below Sherar’s Falls to the mouth of the Columbia. it was a good stalling break before leaving the US for so long.
spent a couple days in Portland seeing old friends and being promiscuous. always such a good time.
drove to seattle and for the first time without my safety back up since Iceland Air had finally raised their weight limits for dogs in crates. found a fenced parking lot somewhere in Kent and hired a driver to take me, the dog and all my shit to the seatac airport. it felt really weird leaving my truck parked there for 4 months, or who knows how long exactly. the good news about that is that when I get back, I can get into my truck and high-tail it back to my beautiful and peaceful home state that I am sure I will be insanely anxious to get back to when that time comes. given I can start my truck cause I didn’t remember until I got to the airport that I forgot to disconnect the negative. shit.
I got to Finland, immediately repacked my things and woke up early the next morning to head straight to Paris. spent 4 days there sweating and having a ton of good laughs with my mom and my sister. god, I love those two. as much as a I hate Paris, I did my best to not hate so much. and actually had a few nice moments that didn’t involve only my immediate family. the trouble with Paris is that there are French people there. ha.
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