I’m six weeks into my return to nomadic life. It’s been a magical time for me, and I feel like the first arc is already coming to a close. I alluded to this at the end of last week’s post, and several of you reached out asking for an explanation, so I’ve decided to squeeze in a mid-week update.
The first arc, while not officially planned, was sketched out reasonably well. Seven weeks in California. Fly to the East Coast for two weeks for business and visiting family, then fly back. I’d rent a storage unit to lock my car in while I was on the East Coast. A few weeks in Oregon, a month in Washington, a few weeks in Colorado, EDUCAUSE in Denver, then drive to the East Coast in early October.
A week ago, I blew that plan up.
If you’ve followed my blog for a while, you may recall I fell in love with a band called The Wailin’ Jennys while I was in Santa Fe. When I want to soothe my nervous system and nourish my soul, they are my first choice. They don’t tour often. All three band members are mothers, and that has been their focus.
I was surprised to find that they are playing the Birchmere in Alexandria, VA, three nights in a row in September. They were a month too early for my schedule. And they had nothing else anywhere near me or where I planned to be.
There’s a freedom to my nomadic lifestyle that is hard to realize fully. We make plans, and they impose artificial constraints that we accept as real. Those false barriers melted away as I said to myself, “F– it. I’ll just drive to the East Coast now.”
And so, Thursday afternoon, I’m heading East. Not for two weeks, likely for several months. The new plan is forming. But I know I’ll be in Alexandria on September 2nd. Tickets are still available, and it’s general admission, so if you’re in the area, join me!
Mt. Shasta
I traveled to Mt. Shasta last weekend. I have heard so many wonderful things about the mountain and the town. I was eager to visit. I suspected a weekend wouldn’t be long enough to satisfy me, so I treated this visit like a scouting trip to see if I want a longer stay in the future.
On Saturday, I was honoured to participate in a private ceremony with several friends on the mountain. I was grateful for the opportunity, and it was wonderful to have good friends orienting me to Shasta. We were within walking distance of the Sacramento River’s headwaters, where we refilled our water bottles several times.
Sunday, my friends left early, and I had the day to myself. I took my own advice from last week. I spent several hours walking the trails of Shasta. I set no distance, time, or pace goal. I put my phone into “Stillness” focus mode so I wouldn’t be disturbed. I resisted the urge to take any photos or videos. I wanted to be deeply present with the Mountain.
I experienced several magical moments. I saw several Chipmunks on my hike. At one point, there were several very close to the trail. I resisted the urge to pull out my phone and snap a picture. I stood at a safe distance and savored our shared space. When I was ready to continue on the trail, I moved slowly, expecting them to scamper off. One brave Chipmunk never left. I watched in awe as I walked only a few feet away, stopped, and looked into their eyes. Such a sweet connection.
I was also struck by the amazing stones that were everywhere. Shasta is a stratovolcano and is made primarily of andesite. Lately, I’ve seen a lot of granite. I stopped and meditated on several large rocks along the way. I recognized a progression in my appreciation of nature.
It began, as I suspect it does for most, with wildlife. Hawk, Turtle, Raven, Deer, Chipmunk… the thrill of being with another sentient being that moves.
Over time, my appreciation for Plants deepened, as I began to process the magnificence of trees and flowers. And I came to appreciate that plants move too (and may even be sentient). They simply move on a time scale much slower than we are used to. Just search “plant movement time lapse” for some compelling examples.
On Shasta, my connection with Stone deepened. We don’t think of Stone as something that moves, certainly not as something sentient. But Stone is very much a part of nature, and even Stone moves, albeit very, very slowly. In the end, you can find beauty anywhere.
As I neared the end of my hike, I paused for a moment at Panther Meadows, thanking the land for welcoming me and showing my respect. I looked down and saw a small orange Butterfly on the ground in front of me. As I squatted down to inspect it, I noticed several even smaller light blue Butterflies, as well as several Bees. I watched them for a minute and then rose to continue my hike. As I began walking, they did not fly away. I watched in wonder as they danced around my ankles while I walked, treading carefully to be sure I didn’t step on anyone accidentally. More magic.
Fairfax (California, not Virginia)
So many people told me I was going to love Fairfax, and they were not wrong. This is a delightful town. It’s far enough away from the city not to feel immersed in a sea of people, but it’s not remote. I absolutely adored being able to walk to the grocery store whenever I needed something. My car earned a much-needed rest, as she braces for a 3,000-mile journey this weekend!
Here are a few recommendations should you find yourself here:
- The Good Earth – An amazing grocery store that is legendary in the area. Most of my meals came from here.
- Roy’s Redwood Preserve – A Redwood forest just ten minutes away from town. Easily accessible, not overcrowded, and the home of one of my Quail baby sightings.
- Fairfax Scoop – Homemade organic ice cream shop. Once I tried it, I went back every single day. That’s not an exaggeration.
And now I ready myself for the next arc of my journey. East Coast, here I come. See you soon.
I am an executive coach and consciousness coach with software executive roots in higher education and EdTech. I coach because I love helping others accelerate their growth as leaders and humans. I frequently write about #management, #leadership, #coaching, #neuroscience, and #arete.
If you would like to learn more, schedule time with me.