I hate answering the phone, and that's okay

I hear a lot of people diss young folks for not answering their phones and preferring texting.  The message is that you aren't a real adult if you don't answer your phones, and that being a phone answerer makes you superior.  I'd like to take a moment to call bullshit on that, for a multitude of reasons.

First, and most personally, as an introvert, phone calls are abrupt and unexpected invasions of my personal space.  Unless the phone call has been arranged in advance, I'm never prepared to talk to the person calling, unless its one of three people: my mom, my husband, or my best friend.  And even if the phone call has been arranged in advance, I usually spend 5-10 minutes mentally preparing for talking on the phone.  When a call comes in on the fly, I have no time to prepare.  I don't know what the call will be about, and I have to come up with a response off the cuff.  Texting and email are wonderful for me because they come in and I'm not required to respond immediately or vocally.  Being able to formulate a response and compose it through writing makes my life infinitely happier.

Second, historically phones are actually not the norm.  Phones have only been around for the past 140 years of human history and prior to that, people communicated either in-person or through written means.  Human beings have spent much more time in our history communicating via written word than via a disembodied voice on either ends of a telephone line.  Don't get me wrong, phones are amazing.  It's so awesome to be able to talk to people all around the world in real time, but as a whole, humans aren't used to communicating in that way.

Thirdly, phones, in their current cellular iteration are even moreinvasive than phones have been.  For 90% of the time phones have existed, you haven't had one on your person at all times.  Phones were attached to a wall and in specific places.  When you were out and about running errands, you weren't worried about getting a call, because your phone was at home stuck to the wall.  Now I'm expected to be available anywhere and everywhere, regardless of what I might be doing at that time.  I'm expected to drop what I'm doing right then and answer the phone and give that person my full attention for however long they need.  That expectation is, frankly, ridiculous.  

So no, I probably won't answer your call (and not just because my phone has mysteriously, maybe miraculously, stopped ringing unless it's unlocked).  It's not because I'm dissing you, it's not because I am maliciously ignoring you (I am ignoring you but not because I don't like you), it's not because I don't think you and what you have to say are important.  It's because I get to choose when people get to talk to me on the phone, I'm not available 24/7, for my own mental and emotional health.  You should feel allowed to ignore calls too and not feel bad about it.  This is not to say ignore calls and never call/text people back, if you never call anyone back you actually might be a dick.

Reconnecting Body + Soul

One of the things that I've been thinking about a lot, both during my Brave trip and now after getting back home, is getting back into my body.  I'm a thinker.  My personality type is INTJ so, that's no surprise.  I spend so much of my day up in my mind, thinking about doing things, figuring out how to do stuff, imagining, dreaming, planning, setting goals, evaluating, discerning.   I don't believe that thinking is a bad thing, but I do it so much that I've realized I abandon my body in the meantime.  And maybe it's because being in my body means feeling, and when I feel, well, I want to think about what I'm feeling (doh!) rather than just sinking into the feeling and letting it flow through me and letting it just be.  So even when I am feeling... I'm thinking.  Now, this isn't to say that being a thinker is inherently bad, and neither is being a feeler.  But being a feeler who doesn't think can be bad, and being a thinker who doesn't feel can also be bad.

And, of course, I've been thinking about this.  Thinking about why I am this way, how I became this way, and how to course correct and find balance between thinking and feeling.  Besides the fact that I believe I'm naturally a thinker, I've realized that growing up in the church probably instilled in me some detrimental thoughts and beliefs about feeling and being in my body.  So much of what is taught in the church centers around the body being a source of sin, a gateway to vice.  The spirit and soul are the pure parts of us and the body is just a meat sack we're stuck in until we die and go to heaven and are freed from physical existence.  Of course, it's not all body-bad, spirit-good.  There is also talk of the body being a temple and such, but usually that was also used to encourage chaste behavior, whether with drinking, drugs, sex, etc.  There was no discussion of the body as something to celebrate, to enjoy, to partner with as a way to access spirituality.

I never thought much about my body.  It almost felt like a car that I was driving around in until I died and then I got out of and no longer had.  Feelings, both physical and emotional, were almost annoying in that they reminded me that I was inextricably linked to this body.

I like having a body.  I like being a body.  I like touching things, I like moving, I like feeling the heat of the sun on my skin, I like petting my dog, I like eating and drinking delicious things.  And those things feel, in a way, spiritual.  They feel real.  But I still struggle with being up in my head all the time, which keeps me from being able to full experience life as a being with a body.

I don't really have any solutions at this point, I suppose all this is just the thoughts behind where I am right now and what I'm working on.  I want to feel less stuck in my mind, more able to release and be in my body without analyzing every thing or feeling like focusing on being in my body is a waste of time.  It's been a couple years since I did yoga regularly and I'd like to get back into that.  Making art for me is a great way to get out of my head.  I really want to start making pottery, which seems really grounding and earthy and relaxing.

Being at the Wildbride Retreats was an amazing time for reconnecting with lost parts of myself and I think that after returning, it's a matter of not getting back into the daily grind and re-losing those parts, but finding a way to revamp life, even if it's just in little ways, in order to care for those parts of the self, be present, and create a life that doesn't need escaping from.

Womanhood: Let's Do This.

I think one of the weirdest things to realize is that this blog has been following my life since I was 22... wait, 21... somewhere around then, I don't care to do the math right now.  And this year, 2016, I turn 30.  And while at 21/22 you like to think you're a grown up and you feel grown up, looking back at the girl who first sat down in her parent's kitchen and signed up for a blogger account, well, she was a girl.  She was a girl who would grow so much in the next 8 years.  So much would happen to her and eventually she would find herself, years later, still logging into blogger and sitting down to type at midnight, but this time she would realize that she's a grown. ass. woman.  Who, most definitely, hasn't experienced all there is to experience as a woman, but who is undoubtedly a full woman.

I suppose it's an odd transition that I never really acknowledged as having happened.  Perhaps because part of that transition was definitely sexual in nature and maybe I was a late bloomer in that regard compared to some people.  And sex isn't something that I've really talked about on the blog.  But in a way it's funny to think that who I am as a whole woman can't be discussed without that as part of the package.  Kristina and I were laying here in the Brave talking about having kids and damn.  If that isn't a conversation that will punch you in the face with, "Hey, so you're like a fucking WOMAN. Who is discussing the possibility of making a human with your body."  Whoa.

Being on this trip we've cultivated an extremely, and very intentionally, feminine space.  We felt like we really needed to be surrounded by very feminine energy and wanted to foster that at Wildbride retreats, and for most of the trip, even when we weren't leading retreats, we were around almost exclusively women.  There was a brief time when we were camping in Joshua Tree where we found ourselves reintroduced to hanging out with men and it was a stark moment of being thrust back into a male energy space, which was very interesting.  While I was sad to be away from Dan for so long and don't really want to be away from him like that again, we both recognized that making this trip very woman-focused in its entirety was the right choice.  But all of that is a rambling, roundabout way of saying, womanhood has been very much on the brain for the past 6 weeks.  And I realized that I never really have fully stepped into the fullness of my womanhood.  I'm discovering how deep and broad womanhood is.  How wild and wonderful it is.  It is nurturing, and raucous, and sensual, and light, and fierce, and erotic, and silly, and intense, and visceral, and hilarious.  I'm finding myself wanting to stretch into every part of it, especially the parts I hadn't realized I wasn't allowing myself to stretch into.  Like when you start working out and discover muscles you didn't even know you had.

A lot of our Wildbrides have talked to us after the retreats about how it's difficult to transition back into real life after the weekend and while we were able to offer some suggestions for carrying Wildbride life forward and integrating the intentions and lessons born at the retreat into daily life, we also haven't yet made that transition ourselves.  It's almost like we've been on the longest and most crazy Wildbride retreat ourselves, on this 6 week road trip along the west coast.  I'm just now beginning to be able to process what was created in the past couple months, and how it changed me and grew me.  And getting home and back to "real" life is going to be a hell of a thing.  In a way I refuse to believe that what is waiting for me at home is "real" life.  I don't want to believe that real life has to be the shitty daily grind of boringness.  Not that I believe that my life that's waiting for me at home is just a shitty daily grind of boringness, not at all.  But there's also a seed within me, and Dan too, that wants something different.  It's a seed that has been there for a while and in the past few months has started to germinate and begin growing and becoming real.  I'm not sure what it will end up looking like, but I know that life going forward from here will be different.  It will not be a shitty daily grind of boringness because goddamnit I have one fucking chance to live life as a human on this planet and so far it's been awesome, but I refuse to spend my days and hours and breaths scrolling through social media and wishing for a life I don't have.  Life is there for the taking and I'm reaching out and grabbing it because why not.

This is it.  This is life.  No more waiting.  I'm stretching into every corner of my life, my womanhood.  Let's do this.

Brave Living

I'm sitting out on the patio at Joshua Tree Coffee Company, drinking the most delicious Nitro Cold Brew coffee (and it's not just the most delicious because I've been drinking camping-french-press the last week).  The sun is beating down and it's the most perfect 66ºF.  We've been camping in Joshua Tree National Park since Sunday at Hidden Valley Campground where there are no hookups, no wifi, and no cell service.  We've met incredible humans, had our noses sunburned from forgetting that sunscreen out here is absolutely a necessity, climbed up countless rock formations, talked with new friends into the night by the light of a campfire, howled under the full moon, and woke to watch the sun bathe it's first rays over the desert rocks.  In a way, I feel like our stay in Joshua Tree National Park has been our very own Wildbride Retreat.  

Leading the retreats has been a hell of a dive into the deep end.  We're learning to swim, making lifelong friends, cultivating a beautiful space for women to bloom, confronting our own fears and doubts and dreams, and feeling incredibly blessed and humbled by the entire experience.  Between our Joshua Tree retreat, which was last weekend, and our Sedona retreat, which is next weekend, we had a solid 10 days to relax, recoup, and make our way over to Sedona.  Since Sedona is only a 6 hour drive from here, we decided to stick around and soak in the beauty of this place for a while and I'm so glad we did.  Leading the retreats is definitely an energetic drain, in the best way.  Kristina and I are putting out all of our energy creating space for each one of our Wildbrides and we're realizing the importance of nurturing ourselves between each retreat so that we're best able to create that space for each retreat.  We are super excited for our final one in Sedona and we can't wait to dream up the next retreat, hopefully sometime later in the summer.  

For some time both of us have been feeling like it's time to move away from Tacoma.  The push to start a new adventure, to explore, to live a full life is feeling very present.  Dan and I have tossed around ideas for about a year, but I think this summer might be the time to sell our house and just make the leap into something new.  To just trust that we'll find our feet when we land, and even if we fall, someone will be there to help us up.  

Being in the Brave is such a clarifying experience for me.  She strips away everything that doesn't matter.  But she gives back so much in return.  Every time I return to her I remember how beautiful life is living with her.  Maybe this time we'll sell the house and live mobile.  We shall see.  Life is certainly on the verge of a big change, and I'm excited to be a part of what's going to happen next along with my favorite humans and creatures.

A Beautiful Life

Sometimes your plans just don't quite work out.

Despite having all your ducks in a row, despite planning ahead as best as you could, things still go sideways, unexpected snafus pop up. I like to control my situation. I like to plan as much as I can ahead of time so that I don't have snafus popping up, but there's not much you can do to avoid problems popping up when you least expect.

For someone who likes controlling a situation, I sure do pick odd vehicles to get me where I want to go, quite literally. My 1972 Winnebago Brave might not seem like the most reliable vehicle to most people. On my first Brave trip (in my '73 Brave, back in 2010) my very first day found me stranded on the side of the road, 300 miles from home in the middle of nowhere, Alaska. Oddly enough, that was the only vehicle trouble I had on that entire 11,000 mile journey. Yesterday, on my first day out on this trip, before even making it a mile from home, I discovered a flat tire that set us back 3 hours. And then I had to get new propane tanks because mine were too old to fill. And a new house battery to power the lights in the Brave. And then today upon testing our water system, all the faucets needed new plumbing. I'd be lying if I wasn't stressed out. I coined the term "Strungry" today because I wasn't Hangry, I was just stressed and hungry and maybe actually extra stressed because I was hungry? I digress.

Things didn't go according to plan. But, like the seeminly undetangle-able knot of necklaces in your luggage after a trip, we eventually fixed each problem and will be back on the road tomorrow.

I'm always impressed with how, even when things don't go the way I think they should go, they still work out. Instead of throwing hands in the air or curling into a fetal position, you just have to start slowly detangling each necklace. It can be tedious, frustrating work at time. Sometimes you cut the pipe that works instead of the broken pipe and have to patch a perfectly good pipe. Someone did that today and her name definitely doesn't rhyme with Miz Borrow. Nope. Keep detangling. One necklace free, alright, keep detangling.

Life is a beautiful mess.  And I don't believe life as a beautiful mess means making our messes look pretty.  It means looking at the mess around us and recognizing the beauty in what it is.  Curated "messes" aren't authentic, though they can be inspiring, but ultimately I think they can make us feel inadequate.  

I cannot wait to meet our gorgeous Wildbrides today!  We still have space at the next retreat, Feb 12-14th in Monte Rio, CA just a short drive from San Francisco.  If you want to give a "fuck yeah" to your wild messy spirit with a wilderness photo shoot and a weekend with no obligation to be anyone but your messy, beautiful self, we would be so honored to have you join us.  Our first retreat is sold out, and space is limited in the remaining retreats so don't wait too long if you want to commit coming into the Wildbride family.  

The mess is part of the beauty.  The problems are part of this beautiful life.  Today our first Wildbride Retreat starts.  For me, Wildbride feels like part of this celebration of messy, wild, tangly existence we lead as women.  It isn't about poses with your booty popped out at just the right angle to give you dat ass.  It isn't about nipping and tucking with photoshop, or getting that perfect Tyra Banks smize.  It's embracing the mess, and discovering the crazy beauty that lies within that space.  It's sacred.