It's official:
thesweetsundays.blogspot.com
Read it, respond to it, share it...and don't forget to savor the little things.
Love Life,
Melissa
Monday, April 27, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Mexican Sunshine & Sweet Sundays
Hey ya'll,
I know my travelogues tend to be novel-esque, and this one isn’t an exception. But if you don’t have time to read this all now (you can find it at melissajoykong.blogspot.com later), skip to the last few paragraphs and let me know if you’d like to be part of Sweet Sundays - thanks in advance ;-)
I started writing this e-mail when I was in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico last week- one more beautiful country I can now check off my overwhelmingly long list of places I want to travel to. This e-mail, however, will be quite different from all the others I’ve written re: my travel adventures. For the first time ever, I decided to go to a resort, with plans to do nothing but sit in the sun during the day and go out dancing every night – quite a diversion from my typical “strap on a backpack, get on a plane, and figure the rest out when I get there” ways. I did not anticipate writing an e-mail about this experience because really, what relevant story was I going to be able to tell after spending a week by a pool…right? Well, I was wrong. Imagine that. ;-). So, I’m writing about it anyway! …I’m beginning to feel like the Barbara Ehrenreich of travel!
I arrived in Mexico in the late morning, greeted by the shining sun and embraced immediately by the warmth (from both the happy-go-lucky locals and the deliciously perfect weather). My trip started exactly as I imagined it would: getting dropped off at my resort, slipping immediately into my bathing suit, and letting the much needed sun soak into my life! But after a few lazy hours, my attention shifted to the resort-goers and the staff.
On day one, everyone seemed so happy. I looked around, and there were couples- maybe in Cabo for a quick getaway or on their honeymoons. There were a plethora of families, too. I loved watching little kids run about and parents curling them up in their arms by the pool. This one little girl named Autumn (pretty name!) came running up to me and handed me her toy…she was too young to talk, but there was this vibrant smile on her face- you could just sense that she was enjoying life. That little girl had no worries in the world- she was just thrilled to be where she was and who she was. While watching her I thought, "I wish we could all be a bit more like our 5-year-old selves". Five-year-olds don’t hold grudges for very long, are in awe of the little things, smile at strangers, aren't afraid to cry sometimes when things don't go well, and sleep a lot. I bet if we could all be a little more like our 5-year-old selves, that would eliminate much of the animosity, divisiveness, and unhappiness in the world.
At dinner later that evening, there was a beach party and everyone at the resort sat at tables for dinner and danced on the beach. I looked around and decided to ask a table of about 4 or 5 young couples if I could sit with them. After talking for a while, Stephanie, this awesome girl from Alberta, Canada who was sitting next to me (with her equally awesome boyfriend Chris) leaned over and whispered, “So, are the guys in New York as hot as they are on Sex in the City?” hahahaha. Ummm, I’m going to skip how I answered that question because…well, my answer differs depending on the week you ask me! But I will say I was lucky enough to become friends with Stephanie and Chris during my week in Mexico, and we spent time lounging by the pool, winning an enormous bottle of Jose Cuervo at Casino night, and having great talks over Miami Vices and Coronas in the evenings.
There were a lot of other really great moments on this trip. One of my friends from Queens was randomly in Cabo at the same time for a bachelor party, so I was invited to go out in Los Cabos with 14 boys...all I will say is that alone was quite an experience in and of itself! I ate great food, got some MUCH NEEDED sleep, and went for amazing long runs down the beach every morning at sunrise- the sound of crashing waves with the steady pace of the rising sun as the background beat, and that feeling of my sneakers hitting the soft sand- those runs were the times I felt most at peace during my week in Mexico...Isn’t that funny?You can sit around all day and do absolutely nothing, and it isn’t until you start moving and sweating that you really begin to feel alive and happy and peaceful.
One day, Steph, Chris, and I decided to go jet skiing and I had an absolute blast. Whenever I first get out on the water, there’s always a little bit of nervousness in me- it’s kind of like the travel butterflies I was talking about in my Patagonia e-mails. But once that fear subsides, there is this feeling of freedom that follows. The feeling of being on a jet ski alone in the ocean is thrilling, and the taste of the salt-water beads that landed on my face as I powered through the water was amazing.
It reminded me a lot of the time I went sea kayaking alone around an entire island while living in Fiji in 2007 – I got caught in a burst of heavy rain while paddling my way through the ocean, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more terrified in my life. Thinking back on my experiences in the water, there’s something completely frightening about it. Did you know that we have a better understanding of space than we do the ocean that makes up 70% of our own world? I am in awe of how the power of an ocean that can be deceivingly calm and inviting. And yet, as I paddled hard around that island on that April afternoon in Fiji, I found strength in me that I would have never known existed had I not challenged my fear of getting into that cerulean blue Pacific Ocean in the first place. I realized I could paddle a kayak ridiculously fast (a local told me it would take 5 hours to get around the whole island- I got there in about 2.7 after having the crap scared out of me while getting caught in my own little thunderstorm). But more than that, I went to bed in a hammock under the stars that night with a new found realization of the depths of both human strength and fragility. I love being out on the water because it is equal parts empowering and humbling…two feelings that are rarely delivered hand-in-hand. Like so many other things in life, being in the ocean reminded me that the most memorable moments and powerful lessons are learned when doing things that force you to push past initial fear of the unknown, both in the outside word, and in your very self.
One of the down sides of my resort experience was that unlike backpacking/hostel-going, it’s unusual to be alone and I couldn’t help but feel weird about it when I got stared down from time to time. That was a strange feeling for me, given that I cherish my solo time and often love traveling alone – I’ve always felt that doing so naturally keeps you open to meeting new people and really experiencing a place when you are exploring with only your thoughts and senses. You could tell by the expression on some people’s faces that they were confused as to why I was by myself, and that really got me thinking. It intrigues me that Americans pride themselves on being independent and individualistic; yet, I’ve never met a population of people so afraid of being alone. The other component is that while it’s not healthy to be completely dependent either, we’ve got to be honest with ourselves: we live in an interdependent world. We DO need other people to succeed, to grow, to experience the love so many of us desire, and even to understand ourselves. At the same time, being able to contribute in an interdependent world requires personal ideas, opinions, and values – all of which are formed most easily and accurately when we spend time alone to think about who we are and what we believe. It’s important – and I’d argue even necessary- to have that time. So if anyone makes you feel weird for spending time on your own in the future, remind them that they should get familiar because we are all ultimately together in being alone. Then put your headphones back on, be thankful that you aren’t too insecure to be yourself regardless of who you are or are not with, and continue rocking out to life. =)
Needless to say, as much as I was enjoying the relaxation, I needed out. So I hopped on a local bus into town one afternoon and explored all of the side shops, restaurants, and a beautiful marina filled to the brim with boats. It was refreshing to experience local culture, and I’m really glad I did. I even talked a local artist down 60% for a few pieces of jewelry….I don’t care what anyone says- those Chinatown negotiating skills have come in handy time and time again!
The theme that seemed to come up often on this trip for me was evaluating the validity of unfounded first impressions. We all have them. Sometimes, we get lucky and those impressions about people, places, things wind up being fairly accurate. But it’s not the norm; making an opinion conclusive before we have relevant facts or experiences to base it on is actually kind of nuts. It can ultimately detract from how we perceive future experiences…or even which experiences we ultimately do or do not have at all. What I’m referring to here might be a touchy subject, so please pardon. But there has been a great deal of media coverage on being cautious of traveling to Mexico lately. It was a big to-do with my mother when she discovered I was going off to Mexico alone. And while it really may not be safe to travel as a female alone in a foreign country, the same is true ANYWHERE in the world. In fact, I could think of a few “unsafe” places right here at home in New York City.
Whenever I travel, I am in awe of how many people tell me to be concerned about safety, when during most of my travels, I often felt safer than I do when I come home from a night out in Manhattan. I think part of it is that living in a big city your whole life is bound to give you a little sass and an “I’m a tough little cookie, so don’t mess” attitude. But really, as long as you are being reasonable and aren’t doing anything totally absurd and inappropriate, there is no reason to have this fear of traveling to most foreign places. Yes, bad things happen. We all have different thresholds for pain, and we differ in how far we are willing to push ourselves to have new experiences.
But here’s the way I see it: you’ve got to live your life. We are on this earth for too short a time NOT to do things we want to do. A short life spent seeing the world, being open to meeting new people, and learning about new cultures seems far more valuable to me than a long life spent in the seclusion of my own tiny little bubble at home.
We all pick and choose our battles. But when you are deciding which ones to take and leave, I hope you’ll be fearless – choose more on what you feel would be the most valuable use of your time, and less on the fear that you’ll lose that time by taking a risk or two. And really, you can’t avoid risk anyway, so you might as well live it up.
I was reading a great book during my vacation – The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, by Steven Covey. It’s an interesting read so the next time you are in a bookstore, check it out. One of the questions asked in this book is “Are you living from your center?” While there are just about 1,000,000 ways to interpret that question, to me it is essentially asking, “Do you spend your time in accordance with the things that you value most? Do you even know what your most important values are? Why are your values what they are?” At one point, Covey asks the reader to think about how they would want to be remembered by their friends, co-workers, family, and significant others if they were gone tomorrow. While thinking about this is loaded and emotional, it certainly does a great job of revealing what your true values are (Surprise: they may not be exactly what you think you'd list off as “important” if someone asked you to do so). I think that's because it’s easy, when you don’t see the end in sight, to get lost in the details of day-to-day life. But to be purpose-driven and to ultimately feel successful, we’ve all got to spend some time thinking about the big picture. This question really helped me to do that, and I hope you’ll all take a few moments to think about the question for your own self as well.
Upon reflecting, I had time to think about my center, the place in my life that guides me and nourishes me when the world around me keeps evolving and changing at an ever increasing pace. I realized that one of the things I value most is my ability to clearly express and share my own personal experiences and paradigms to others through writing. I feel great about how I spend most of my time- I have a job that I'm passionate about, I love the time I spend with my friends and family on the weekend, I get my exercise in to help my body work the best it can, and I always find time each week to do what I love, like learning Spanish (slowly!), how to play guitar, and scouring through my stack of new magazines.
But, the world is busy and so are we! So things are bound to fall by the wayside. For me, one of those things has been writing. It’s become less of a priority, but I miss it. I reeeeeally, reeeeeally miss it. So, there’s only one thing left to do- MORE OF IT. I decided to bring this to fruition by starting a new blog (yup, another one), but it will take on a bit more consistency than my travelogue.
Sweet Sundays is a blog that I will write once a week (on Sundays – surprise, surprise!). In all honesty, I may write more than that some weeks, but I’ll only be sending an e-blast out every Sunday.
I chose Sunday because it’s the only day of the week that, at least by Western standards, simultaneously symbolizes both an end and a beginning. And that is exactly what I hope this blog will be – a way to make a little bit more sense of all the crazy, amazing, unexpected, emotionally complex endings and beginnings that we experience in our lives. I know that just the act of writing this blog will inspire me. My biggest hope is that reading it might inspire something in you, too.
If you’d like to receive this e-mail, let me know and you’ll start getting one in your inbox every Sunday, starting this one coming up. Share it, respond to it, think about it, write your own story of personal beginnings and endings. I can’t wait to see my own in writing, and to hear yours in return.
Love Life,
Melissa
I know my travelogues tend to be novel-esque, and this one isn’t an exception. But if you don’t have time to read this all now (you can find it at melissajoykong.blogspot.com later), skip to the last few paragraphs and let me know if you’d like to be part of Sweet Sundays - thanks in advance ;-)
I started writing this e-mail when I was in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico last week- one more beautiful country I can now check off my overwhelmingly long list of places I want to travel to. This e-mail, however, will be quite different from all the others I’ve written re: my travel adventures. For the first time ever, I decided to go to a resort, with plans to do nothing but sit in the sun during the day and go out dancing every night – quite a diversion from my typical “strap on a backpack, get on a plane, and figure the rest out when I get there” ways. I did not anticipate writing an e-mail about this experience because really, what relevant story was I going to be able to tell after spending a week by a pool…right? Well, I was wrong. Imagine that. ;-). So, I’m writing about it anyway! …I’m beginning to feel like the Barbara Ehrenreich of travel!
I arrived in Mexico in the late morning, greeted by the shining sun and embraced immediately by the warmth (from both the happy-go-lucky locals and the deliciously perfect weather). My trip started exactly as I imagined it would: getting dropped off at my resort, slipping immediately into my bathing suit, and letting the much needed sun soak into my life! But after a few lazy hours, my attention shifted to the resort-goers and the staff.
On day one, everyone seemed so happy. I looked around, and there were couples- maybe in Cabo for a quick getaway or on their honeymoons. There were a plethora of families, too. I loved watching little kids run about and parents curling them up in their arms by the pool. This one little girl named Autumn (pretty name!) came running up to me and handed me her toy…she was too young to talk, but there was this vibrant smile on her face- you could just sense that she was enjoying life. That little girl had no worries in the world- she was just thrilled to be where she was and who she was. While watching her I thought, "I wish we could all be a bit more like our 5-year-old selves". Five-year-olds don’t hold grudges for very long, are in awe of the little things, smile at strangers, aren't afraid to cry sometimes when things don't go well, and sleep a lot. I bet if we could all be a little more like our 5-year-old selves, that would eliminate much of the animosity, divisiveness, and unhappiness in the world.
At dinner later that evening, there was a beach party and everyone at the resort sat at tables for dinner and danced on the beach. I looked around and decided to ask a table of about 4 or 5 young couples if I could sit with them. After talking for a while, Stephanie, this awesome girl from Alberta, Canada who was sitting next to me (with her equally awesome boyfriend Chris) leaned over and whispered, “So, are the guys in New York as hot as they are on Sex in the City?” hahahaha. Ummm, I’m going to skip how I answered that question because…well, my answer differs depending on the week you ask me! But I will say I was lucky enough to become friends with Stephanie and Chris during my week in Mexico, and we spent time lounging by the pool, winning an enormous bottle of Jose Cuervo at Casino night, and having great talks over Miami Vices and Coronas in the evenings.
There were a lot of other really great moments on this trip. One of my friends from Queens was randomly in Cabo at the same time for a bachelor party, so I was invited to go out in Los Cabos with 14 boys...all I will say is that alone was quite an experience in and of itself! I ate great food, got some MUCH NEEDED sleep, and went for amazing long runs down the beach every morning at sunrise- the sound of crashing waves with the steady pace of the rising sun as the background beat, and that feeling of my sneakers hitting the soft sand- those runs were the times I felt most at peace during my week in Mexico...Isn’t that funny?You can sit around all day and do absolutely nothing, and it isn’t until you start moving and sweating that you really begin to feel alive and happy and peaceful.
One day, Steph, Chris, and I decided to go jet skiing and I had an absolute blast. Whenever I first get out on the water, there’s always a little bit of nervousness in me- it’s kind of like the travel butterflies I was talking about in my Patagonia e-mails. But once that fear subsides, there is this feeling of freedom that follows. The feeling of being on a jet ski alone in the ocean is thrilling, and the taste of the salt-water beads that landed on my face as I powered through the water was amazing.
It reminded me a lot of the time I went sea kayaking alone around an entire island while living in Fiji in 2007 – I got caught in a burst of heavy rain while paddling my way through the ocean, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more terrified in my life. Thinking back on my experiences in the water, there’s something completely frightening about it. Did you know that we have a better understanding of space than we do the ocean that makes up 70% of our own world? I am in awe of how the power of an ocean that can be deceivingly calm and inviting. And yet, as I paddled hard around that island on that April afternoon in Fiji, I found strength in me that I would have never known existed had I not challenged my fear of getting into that cerulean blue Pacific Ocean in the first place. I realized I could paddle a kayak ridiculously fast (a local told me it would take 5 hours to get around the whole island- I got there in about 2.7 after having the crap scared out of me while getting caught in my own little thunderstorm). But more than that, I went to bed in a hammock under the stars that night with a new found realization of the depths of both human strength and fragility. I love being out on the water because it is equal parts empowering and humbling…two feelings that are rarely delivered hand-in-hand. Like so many other things in life, being in the ocean reminded me that the most memorable moments and powerful lessons are learned when doing things that force you to push past initial fear of the unknown, both in the outside word, and in your very self.
One of the down sides of my resort experience was that unlike backpacking/hostel-going, it’s unusual to be alone and I couldn’t help but feel weird about it when I got stared down from time to time. That was a strange feeling for me, given that I cherish my solo time and often love traveling alone – I’ve always felt that doing so naturally keeps you open to meeting new people and really experiencing a place when you are exploring with only your thoughts and senses. You could tell by the expression on some people’s faces that they were confused as to why I was by myself, and that really got me thinking. It intrigues me that Americans pride themselves on being independent and individualistic; yet, I’ve never met a population of people so afraid of being alone. The other component is that while it’s not healthy to be completely dependent either, we’ve got to be honest with ourselves: we live in an interdependent world. We DO need other people to succeed, to grow, to experience the love so many of us desire, and even to understand ourselves. At the same time, being able to contribute in an interdependent world requires personal ideas, opinions, and values – all of which are formed most easily and accurately when we spend time alone to think about who we are and what we believe. It’s important – and I’d argue even necessary- to have that time. So if anyone makes you feel weird for spending time on your own in the future, remind them that they should get familiar because we are all ultimately together in being alone. Then put your headphones back on, be thankful that you aren’t too insecure to be yourself regardless of who you are or are not with, and continue rocking out to life. =)
Needless to say, as much as I was enjoying the relaxation, I needed out. So I hopped on a local bus into town one afternoon and explored all of the side shops, restaurants, and a beautiful marina filled to the brim with boats. It was refreshing to experience local culture, and I’m really glad I did. I even talked a local artist down 60% for a few pieces of jewelry….I don’t care what anyone says- those Chinatown negotiating skills have come in handy time and time again!
The theme that seemed to come up often on this trip for me was evaluating the validity of unfounded first impressions. We all have them. Sometimes, we get lucky and those impressions about people, places, things wind up being fairly accurate. But it’s not the norm; making an opinion conclusive before we have relevant facts or experiences to base it on is actually kind of nuts. It can ultimately detract from how we perceive future experiences…or even which experiences we ultimately do or do not have at all. What I’m referring to here might be a touchy subject, so please pardon. But there has been a great deal of media coverage on being cautious of traveling to Mexico lately. It was a big to-do with my mother when she discovered I was going off to Mexico alone. And while it really may not be safe to travel as a female alone in a foreign country, the same is true ANYWHERE in the world. In fact, I could think of a few “unsafe” places right here at home in New York City.
Whenever I travel, I am in awe of how many people tell me to be concerned about safety, when during most of my travels, I often felt safer than I do when I come home from a night out in Manhattan. I think part of it is that living in a big city your whole life is bound to give you a little sass and an “I’m a tough little cookie, so don’t mess” attitude. But really, as long as you are being reasonable and aren’t doing anything totally absurd and inappropriate, there is no reason to have this fear of traveling to most foreign places. Yes, bad things happen. We all have different thresholds for pain, and we differ in how far we are willing to push ourselves to have new experiences.
But here’s the way I see it: you’ve got to live your life. We are on this earth for too short a time NOT to do things we want to do. A short life spent seeing the world, being open to meeting new people, and learning about new cultures seems far more valuable to me than a long life spent in the seclusion of my own tiny little bubble at home.
We all pick and choose our battles. But when you are deciding which ones to take and leave, I hope you’ll be fearless – choose more on what you feel would be the most valuable use of your time, and less on the fear that you’ll lose that time by taking a risk or two. And really, you can’t avoid risk anyway, so you might as well live it up.
I was reading a great book during my vacation – The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, by Steven Covey. It’s an interesting read so the next time you are in a bookstore, check it out. One of the questions asked in this book is “Are you living from your center?” While there are just about 1,000,000 ways to interpret that question, to me it is essentially asking, “Do you spend your time in accordance with the things that you value most? Do you even know what your most important values are? Why are your values what they are?” At one point, Covey asks the reader to think about how they would want to be remembered by their friends, co-workers, family, and significant others if they were gone tomorrow. While thinking about this is loaded and emotional, it certainly does a great job of revealing what your true values are (Surprise: they may not be exactly what you think you'd list off as “important” if someone asked you to do so). I think that's because it’s easy, when you don’t see the end in sight, to get lost in the details of day-to-day life. But to be purpose-driven and to ultimately feel successful, we’ve all got to spend some time thinking about the big picture. This question really helped me to do that, and I hope you’ll all take a few moments to think about the question for your own self as well.
Upon reflecting, I had time to think about my center, the place in my life that guides me and nourishes me when the world around me keeps evolving and changing at an ever increasing pace. I realized that one of the things I value most is my ability to clearly express and share my own personal experiences and paradigms to others through writing. I feel great about how I spend most of my time- I have a job that I'm passionate about, I love the time I spend with my friends and family on the weekend, I get my exercise in to help my body work the best it can, and I always find time each week to do what I love, like learning Spanish (slowly!), how to play guitar, and scouring through my stack of new magazines.
But, the world is busy and so are we! So things are bound to fall by the wayside. For me, one of those things has been writing. It’s become less of a priority, but I miss it. I reeeeeally, reeeeeally miss it. So, there’s only one thing left to do- MORE OF IT. I decided to bring this to fruition by starting a new blog (yup, another one), but it will take on a bit more consistency than my travelogue.
Sweet Sundays is a blog that I will write once a week (on Sundays – surprise, surprise!). In all honesty, I may write more than that some weeks, but I’ll only be sending an e-blast out every Sunday.
I chose Sunday because it’s the only day of the week that, at least by Western standards, simultaneously symbolizes both an end and a beginning. And that is exactly what I hope this blog will be – a way to make a little bit more sense of all the crazy, amazing, unexpected, emotionally complex endings and beginnings that we experience in our lives. I know that just the act of writing this blog will inspire me. My biggest hope is that reading it might inspire something in you, too.
If you’d like to receive this e-mail, let me know and you’ll start getting one in your inbox every Sunday, starting this one coming up. Share it, respond to it, think about it, write your own story of personal beginnings and endings. I can’t wait to see my own in writing, and to hear yours in return.
Love Life,
Melissa
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Patagonia, Part 2: And this is the part where you find out who you are
Hi All,
I ended my last e-mail with a few questions. The point of it was to highlight that sometimes, we think we understand who we are and can accurately predict how we'd react in situations that have never happened to us before. Here's an example: I used to think that if I ever needed to escape from a burning building, I would quickly grab my old photos and journals before I ran out of the house. But, when there was a fire scare about 3 months back in my apartment building, I quickly woke up (something I never do quickly on a day-to-day basis), told my mom to get our dog and her leash, threw on a summer dress (mind you, it was November and FREEZING, but in my very focused state, I did it because it was the fastest), and sprinted down the stairs with only my coat, dog, and mother in tow.
Luckily, it was just a scare and there was no actual fire. But, the point here is, whenever I imagined this situation in my head, I always figured I would be in a slight panic, but still manage to carry out 20 lbs. worth of old memories. In truth, what the actual experience taught me was that even your old pictures and journals and electronic devices are replaceable and relatively unimportant when your health- and life- are threatened.
No matter how well you think you know yourself, you will almost certainly behave in a different way when you are in a position that requires self-preservation and the security of your most elementary needs (food, water, shelter, physical safety).
This isn't a bad thing- it's a defense mechanism. I think theissue lies in the expectations we carry around with us. Since my original impressions of everyone on the trip were that they were all incredible fun, unique people, I –perhaps prematurely- assumed a trust. But trusting someone to be a fun new buddy and trusting that someone will put you before them when it comes to very basic needs are two completely different things.
On that 5th day of hiking, I learned in a very vivid, challenging, and somewhat scary way that you must take care of you. You can't expect that everyone else will put you before them just because you put other people before yourself. That sounds harsh, and I'm not saying you shouldn't continue to care for other people by any means. It was a particularly hard lesson for me, because in my heart I truly believe that we should always put other people before ourselves. But the truth is, if you are constantly forgoing your own physical and emotional well-being for the sake of someone else's, you aren't going to be the happiest, best version of yourself.
...Of course, there is a balance to be met here...overdoing it one way or the other- being too selfish or too selfless- isn't going to result in your best self. But on a pragmatic level, you've got to take care of you. You cannot help anyone else if you don't do that first.
Life, it seems to me, is timed perfectly. When you are stretching your limits, and you get to that point where you feel like you are about to enter into the "panic zone," relief magically appears.
That might take form in a stressful week at work and school- but all of a sudden, when you feel the work is becoming unbearable, the weekend arrives. Or when you are running a marathon or training for a sport, you feel like your body can't handle the physical stress anymore, and you realize that you are in the last mile or the last few minutes of practice.
My relief came in the form of what Outward Bound calls a "Solo." My solo was 24 delightful, precious, and much-needed hours of alone time. Everyone in my group was sent to a designated solo spot, where we were to find a place to sleep, meditate, survive on very little food (luckily, I had practice with this already, haha), and enjoy some alone time. Before we left, our leader Rolando read us this beautiful piece:
I Want to Know
By: Oriah Mountain Dreamer, Indian Elder
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living-
I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are-
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon-
I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrows,
if you have been opened by life's betrayals,
or have become shriveled and closed from the fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own,
without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own-
if you can dance with wildness and let ecstasy fill you to the tips
of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic,
or to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling is true-
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself;
if you can bear the accusation of betrayal to not betray your own soul.
I want to know if you can see the beauty, even when it is not pretty every day-
and if you can source your own life from it's presence.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied-
I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away;
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself…
And if you like the company you keep
in the empty moments.
And with that, I left to spend the next 24 hours with myself and find out, if, with nothing but the river flowing past me and the mountains up above me…if, with nothing but my own thoughts, and hopes, and dreams, and fears…I truly liked the company I kept.
I spent the first few hours setting up my tarp, washing my clothes, sitting on a little rock in the middle of the stream just watching the water pass me and move further and further down the never-ending river. And then I started to write- to really write for the first time in a long time. I sat there thinking and writing, occasionally getting up to stretch or wander. Eleven hours and 86 journal pages later, I fell asleep as the sun began to set, to the lullaby of trickling water and rustling leaves.
When I woke up the next morning, I felt refreshed and alive and relieved. I thought about things I had not thought about in a long time, things that I was intentionally or unintentionally trying to avoid or push away. I wrote about my dreams for the future, and my regrets in the past (we all have them in my opinion. It's not that we shouldn't think about them – it's that we shouldn't live in them); my fears about the people in my life- and the parts of myself- that I was losing; my excitement about the new journey I am on, and the new people I'll get to meet along the way; my hopes for our country, for my family and friends, for my own life. And after my 24 hours, I woke up that morning with my back to the sun, ready to take on the next challenge, and quite frankly, to throw my expectations for almost everything out the window.
...And to answer my own question, I found that I do love the company I keep....
More than I expected to, and that makes me smile. =)
When we got back together as a group, we did this exercise where we all gave each other intangible "gifts". For each person in the group, we had to write: 1.) something we would want to 'give' to them (i.e. something they could use more of on an emotional/personal level), and 2.) something we would want to 'take' from them (i.e. a trait we admired about them).
I got some very interesting, heartfelt gifts from the rest of my group, and it allowed me to reflect about personal strengths and weaknesses. The exercise helped me realize that we are often so caught up in our own perceptions of how other people see us, that we don't always realize they might find strengths or weaknesses in us that we are completely oblivious to. It was an eye-opening experience. If you have the opportunity to ask people in the future candidly about your strengths and weaknesses, I hope you take it.
During the final week of the trip, we lived in a local village called Cuyin Manzano. During my time there, I got to meet lots of local people who taught me how to make homemade pan, how to weave (I made my own scarf!), and the beauty of living simply. One of the big problems the group had during the second week was that there was relative dissatisfaction with the service projects we were assigned to do. We thought that we would be doing subsistence farming, but instead, winded up building fences and painting walls in the local community center. It's not that the work was unimportant- it's just that many came in with the perception that we would be working side-by-side with community members who really needed our help with sustainable development.
But thinking back on that week objectively, it's a little bit absurd that there was disappointment in our service activities. After all, the purest meaning of "service" is being helpful without any expectation or desire for a personal gain in return. Most people do get a gain from service, and it is often that personal happiness they feel from helping others, or the satisfaction of feeling like a "good" person for having helped someone else. But true service is doing something for others even if it doesn't leave you feeling like you've just changed someone's entire life. Serving isn't about getting something in return- it's about doing something selflessly to make the lives of others better/ easier.
One of the most memorable and beautiful moments of the trip for me was a night hike we did up a steep mountain at the end of the second week of our trip. When we finally got to the top just as the sun set completely, everyone was looking for a place to sleep. It was incredibly windy on the top of this mountain, so everyone decided to sleep together to stay warm, but after a long few weeks, I needed some alone time (this is what happens when you grow up as an only child...space is precious and necessary!).
I stumbled upon a cavern in a huge rock and slept there by myself. I fell asleep that night smiling at the beautifully bright full moon, listening to the song of the wind swirling around me. It wasn't until the next morning when the sun came up that I got a good look at the spot where I had been sleeping. I have no idea how I found it in the complete dark- it was almost as if the spot had been carved out just for that moment, like it knew I was coming (see Facebook pics for a visual). =)
As everyone woke up saying they were tired and cold (it was really cold), I was enamored by a sense of complete peace. And in that moment I realized that we are often too busy trying to create our own forms of comfort (huddling together to stay warm), that we miss out on the blanket nature has provided for us (the cavern).
Lesson learned: nature is stronger than we as individuals will ever be;
we become stronger only when we learn to be part of it rather than resist it. I mean this in a metaphorical sense as well...living simply and applying the lessons that nature so readily teaches us to our own lives (see end for examples).
Our trip ended with a big feast called an asado, where a goat is killed and cooked over a huge hearth fire. It sounds brutal, I know, but it kind of put me in touch and helped me to be more appreciative of the food I eat. When we pick up steak from the grocery store, we rarely think about the animal. When we buy lettuce, we rarely think about the sweat and toil of the farmers who grow the foods that sustain us. Seeing the gardens and animals with my own eyes really put me in touch with the blessing of food, and the very sad degree to which many people take food for granted in the United States.
...The ending to this trip may seem a little lackluster. And I guess in a weird way, it kind of was- at least in relation to my expectations of what this trip was going to be like for me. I think we all go into experiences with a certain set of ideas about what will happen and how we will be transformed by what we go through. Several of my friends who went on Outward Bound trips said it was life changing and positive. So naturally, I expected a certain degree of self-transformation to occur.
But the lessons I learned about myself, nature, and other people were far from expected. It's like going into something with a set of questions that you are looking for answers to, and coming out with answers to questions you didn't even know you had instead.
Many of the lessons I left with are deeply personal, so I won't go into detail here because trying to write about them in a few paragraphs in an e-mail would diminish them; sometimes, there just aren't enough- or the right- words. But I will say one of the biggest realizations I had was that it's easy to have questions and automatically think that we need to search for the answers. But the answers are right in front of us, all around us, always. All you have to do is live life with your eyes, and arms, and mind, and heart wide open- you'd be shocked by how the answers just naturally come to you and embrace your life when you do.
During each night of the trip, someone would read a quote out of this book we had. It was a way of reflecting on the journey. On the last night, it was my turn to read one. Here's what I chose:
http://www.kalimunro.com/learned_in_kindergarten.html
(you have to read this quote for the last part of this e-mail to be fully relevant).
…After I read it, I shared my own little follow-up to this quote that I had written the night before, and it is perhaps the best way to summarize the experience:
"Robert Fulghum said that all he ever needed to know about life,
he learned in kindergarten.
I say everything we really need to know can be learned in Patagonia.
I've learned that the shortest way isn't always the fastest way,
and the fastest way isn't always the best way.
I've learned that it's important to think about
the paths others have taken before you,
but that even the most clearly marked path
may not necessarily take you to where you want to go.
The downward slide can be more painful than the uphill climb.
You don't have to speak a different language to misunderstand someone.
But you can also understand someone perfectly without exchanging a single word.
Drink a lot of water.
Exercise often.
And get 8 hours of sleep a night. Seriously.
Care for the earth, because it's your home.
Take time to grow.
I've learned that the strongest leader is often
the one willing to be at the very back of the line.
You don't always know the weight other people are carrying on their shoulders,
so be gentle…be patient.
You can't find your way if you are constantly looking down-
keeping your head up will help you find your way.
Never let the fear of falling keep you from moving forward.
The thorns along the way, painful as they are,
help you to appreciate the destination that much more.
When it gets dark, it's best to stick together.
And sometimes,
the only way to overcome the feeling of loneliness
is to spend more time alone.
As dark as things may get, the sun will always come again.
Showers are precious!
But the dirtier you get, the more you come clean.
And,
like the stars are a constant blanket protecting the earth,
your soul is a constant blanket protecting your life.
For while Patagonia may provide you with many of the answers
you need about life and how to live,
you will always carry within you
all of the answers you'll ever need to know,
to grow."
To all the people who have taken the time to read this, I hope-
whether you are in a big city at a corporate job,
studying away on a little hill in the center of New York State,
or taking your own little adventure around the world-
that you are enjoying your own journey and not taking a minute of this life for granted.
Celebrate the best of your life, and know that whatever questions you may have right now...
you have within you the answers to them, too.
Love always,
Melissa
I ended my last e-mail with a few questions. The point of it was to highlight that sometimes, we think we understand who we are and can accurately predict how we'd react in situations that have never happened to us before. Here's an example: I used to think that if I ever needed to escape from a burning building, I would quickly grab my old photos and journals before I ran out of the house. But, when there was a fire scare about 3 months back in my apartment building, I quickly woke up (something I never do quickly on a day-to-day basis), told my mom to get our dog and her leash, threw on a summer dress (mind you, it was November and FREEZING, but in my very focused state, I did it because it was the fastest), and sprinted down the stairs with only my coat, dog, and mother in tow.
Luckily, it was just a scare and there was no actual fire. But, the point here is, whenever I imagined this situation in my head, I always figured I would be in a slight panic, but still manage to carry out 20 lbs. worth of old memories. In truth, what the actual experience taught me was that even your old pictures and journals and electronic devices are replaceable and relatively unimportant when your health- and life- are threatened.
No matter how well you think you know yourself, you will almost certainly behave in a different way when you are in a position that requires self-preservation and the security of your most elementary needs (food, water, shelter, physical safety).
This isn't a bad thing- it's a defense mechanism. I think theissue lies in the expectations we carry around with us. Since my original impressions of everyone on the trip were that they were all incredible fun, unique people, I –perhaps prematurely- assumed a trust. But trusting someone to be a fun new buddy and trusting that someone will put you before them when it comes to very basic needs are two completely different things.
On that 5th day of hiking, I learned in a very vivid, challenging, and somewhat scary way that you must take care of you. You can't expect that everyone else will put you before them just because you put other people before yourself. That sounds harsh, and I'm not saying you shouldn't continue to care for other people by any means. It was a particularly hard lesson for me, because in my heart I truly believe that we should always put other people before ourselves. But the truth is, if you are constantly forgoing your own physical and emotional well-being for the sake of someone else's, you aren't going to be the happiest, best version of yourself.
...Of course, there is a balance to be met here...overdoing it one way or the other- being too selfish or too selfless- isn't going to result in your best self. But on a pragmatic level, you've got to take care of you. You cannot help anyone else if you don't do that first.
Life, it seems to me, is timed perfectly. When you are stretching your limits, and you get to that point where you feel like you are about to enter into the "panic zone," relief magically appears.
That might take form in a stressful week at work and school- but all of a sudden, when you feel the work is becoming unbearable, the weekend arrives. Or when you are running a marathon or training for a sport, you feel like your body can't handle the physical stress anymore, and you realize that you are in the last mile or the last few minutes of practice.
My relief came in the form of what Outward Bound calls a "Solo." My solo was 24 delightful, precious, and much-needed hours of alone time. Everyone in my group was sent to a designated solo spot, where we were to find a place to sleep, meditate, survive on very little food (luckily, I had practice with this already, haha), and enjoy some alone time. Before we left, our leader Rolando read us this beautiful piece:
I Want to Know
By: Oriah Mountain Dreamer, Indian Elder
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living-
I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are-
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon-
I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrows,
if you have been opened by life's betrayals,
or have become shriveled and closed from the fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own,
without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own-
if you can dance with wildness and let ecstasy fill you to the tips
of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic,
or to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling is true-
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself;
if you can bear the accusation of betrayal to not betray your own soul.
I want to know if you can see the beauty, even when it is not pretty every day-
and if you can source your own life from it's presence.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied-
I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away;
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself…
And if you like the company you keep
in the empty moments.
And with that, I left to spend the next 24 hours with myself and find out, if, with nothing but the river flowing past me and the mountains up above me…if, with nothing but my own thoughts, and hopes, and dreams, and fears…I truly liked the company I kept.
I spent the first few hours setting up my tarp, washing my clothes, sitting on a little rock in the middle of the stream just watching the water pass me and move further and further down the never-ending river. And then I started to write- to really write for the first time in a long time. I sat there thinking and writing, occasionally getting up to stretch or wander. Eleven hours and 86 journal pages later, I fell asleep as the sun began to set, to the lullaby of trickling water and rustling leaves.
When I woke up the next morning, I felt refreshed and alive and relieved. I thought about things I had not thought about in a long time, things that I was intentionally or unintentionally trying to avoid or push away. I wrote about my dreams for the future, and my regrets in the past (we all have them in my opinion. It's not that we shouldn't think about them – it's that we shouldn't live in them); my fears about the people in my life- and the parts of myself- that I was losing; my excitement about the new journey I am on, and the new people I'll get to meet along the way; my hopes for our country, for my family and friends, for my own life. And after my 24 hours, I woke up that morning with my back to the sun, ready to take on the next challenge, and quite frankly, to throw my expectations for almost everything out the window.
...And to answer my own question, I found that I do love the company I keep....
More than I expected to, and that makes me smile. =)
When we got back together as a group, we did this exercise where we all gave each other intangible "gifts". For each person in the group, we had to write: 1.) something we would want to 'give' to them (i.e. something they could use more of on an emotional/personal level), and 2.) something we would want to 'take' from them (i.e. a trait we admired about them).
I got some very interesting, heartfelt gifts from the rest of my group, and it allowed me to reflect about personal strengths and weaknesses. The exercise helped me realize that we are often so caught up in our own perceptions of how other people see us, that we don't always realize they might find strengths or weaknesses in us that we are completely oblivious to. It was an eye-opening experience. If you have the opportunity to ask people in the future candidly about your strengths and weaknesses, I hope you take it.
During the final week of the trip, we lived in a local village called Cuyin Manzano. During my time there, I got to meet lots of local people who taught me how to make homemade pan, how to weave (I made my own scarf!), and the beauty of living simply. One of the big problems the group had during the second week was that there was relative dissatisfaction with the service projects we were assigned to do. We thought that we would be doing subsistence farming, but instead, winded up building fences and painting walls in the local community center. It's not that the work was unimportant- it's just that many came in with the perception that we would be working side-by-side with community members who really needed our help with sustainable development.
But thinking back on that week objectively, it's a little bit absurd that there was disappointment in our service activities. After all, the purest meaning of "service" is being helpful without any expectation or desire for a personal gain in return. Most people do get a gain from service, and it is often that personal happiness they feel from helping others, or the satisfaction of feeling like a "good" person for having helped someone else. But true service is doing something for others even if it doesn't leave you feeling like you've just changed someone's entire life. Serving isn't about getting something in return- it's about doing something selflessly to make the lives of others better/ easier.
One of the most memorable and beautiful moments of the trip for me was a night hike we did up a steep mountain at the end of the second week of our trip. When we finally got to the top just as the sun set completely, everyone was looking for a place to sleep. It was incredibly windy on the top of this mountain, so everyone decided to sleep together to stay warm, but after a long few weeks, I needed some alone time (this is what happens when you grow up as an only child...space is precious and necessary!).
I stumbled upon a cavern in a huge rock and slept there by myself. I fell asleep that night smiling at the beautifully bright full moon, listening to the song of the wind swirling around me. It wasn't until the next morning when the sun came up that I got a good look at the spot where I had been sleeping. I have no idea how I found it in the complete dark- it was almost as if the spot had been carved out just for that moment, like it knew I was coming (see Facebook pics for a visual). =)
As everyone woke up saying they were tired and cold (it was really cold), I was enamored by a sense of complete peace. And in that moment I realized that we are often too busy trying to create our own forms of comfort (huddling together to stay warm), that we miss out on the blanket nature has provided for us (the cavern).
Lesson learned: nature is stronger than we as individuals will ever be;
we become stronger only when we learn to be part of it rather than resist it. I mean this in a metaphorical sense as well...living simply and applying the lessons that nature so readily teaches us to our own lives (see end for examples).
Our trip ended with a big feast called an asado, where a goat is killed and cooked over a huge hearth fire. It sounds brutal, I know, but it kind of put me in touch and helped me to be more appreciative of the food I eat. When we pick up steak from the grocery store, we rarely think about the animal. When we buy lettuce, we rarely think about the sweat and toil of the farmers who grow the foods that sustain us. Seeing the gardens and animals with my own eyes really put me in touch with the blessing of food, and the very sad degree to which many people take food for granted in the United States.
...The ending to this trip may seem a little lackluster. And I guess in a weird way, it kind of was- at least in relation to my expectations of what this trip was going to be like for me. I think we all go into experiences with a certain set of ideas about what will happen and how we will be transformed by what we go through. Several of my friends who went on Outward Bound trips said it was life changing and positive. So naturally, I expected a certain degree of self-transformation to occur.
But the lessons I learned about myself, nature, and other people were far from expected. It's like going into something with a set of questions that you are looking for answers to, and coming out with answers to questions you didn't even know you had instead.
Many of the lessons I left with are deeply personal, so I won't go into detail here because trying to write about them in a few paragraphs in an e-mail would diminish them; sometimes, there just aren't enough- or the right- words. But I will say one of the biggest realizations I had was that it's easy to have questions and automatically think that we need to search for the answers. But the answers are right in front of us, all around us, always. All you have to do is live life with your eyes, and arms, and mind, and heart wide open- you'd be shocked by how the answers just naturally come to you and embrace your life when you do.
During each night of the trip, someone would read a quote out of this book we had. It was a way of reflecting on the journey. On the last night, it was my turn to read one. Here's what I chose:
http://www.kalimunro.com/learned_in_kindergarten.html
(you have to read this quote for the last part of this e-mail to be fully relevant).
…After I read it, I shared my own little follow-up to this quote that I had written the night before, and it is perhaps the best way to summarize the experience:
"Robert Fulghum said that all he ever needed to know about life,
he learned in kindergarten.
I say everything we really need to know can be learned in Patagonia.
I've learned that the shortest way isn't always the fastest way,
and the fastest way isn't always the best way.
I've learned that it's important to think about
the paths others have taken before you,
but that even the most clearly marked path
may not necessarily take you to where you want to go.
The downward slide can be more painful than the uphill climb.
You don't have to speak a different language to misunderstand someone.
But you can also understand someone perfectly without exchanging a single word.
Drink a lot of water.
Exercise often.
And get 8 hours of sleep a night. Seriously.
Care for the earth, because it's your home.
Take time to grow.
I've learned that the strongest leader is often
the one willing to be at the very back of the line.
You don't always know the weight other people are carrying on their shoulders,
so be gentle…be patient.
You can't find your way if you are constantly looking down-
keeping your head up will help you find your way.
Never let the fear of falling keep you from moving forward.
The thorns along the way, painful as they are,
help you to appreciate the destination that much more.
When it gets dark, it's best to stick together.
And sometimes,
the only way to overcome the feeling of loneliness
is to spend more time alone.
As dark as things may get, the sun will always come again.
Showers are precious!
But the dirtier you get, the more you come clean.
And,
like the stars are a constant blanket protecting the earth,
your soul is a constant blanket protecting your life.
For while Patagonia may provide you with many of the answers
you need about life and how to live,
you will always carry within you
all of the answers you'll ever need to know,
to grow."
To all the people who have taken the time to read this, I hope-
whether you are in a big city at a corporate job,
studying away on a little hill in the center of New York State,
or taking your own little adventure around the world-
that you are enjoying your own journey and not taking a minute of this life for granted.
Celebrate the best of your life, and know that whatever questions you may have right now...
you have within you the answers to them, too.
Love always,
Melissa
Patagonia, Part 1: You have no idea what you're getting yourself into...
Well...Patagonia was certainly interesting.
After randomly meeting Kristin at the airport (she winded up being one of my closest friends on the trip), we were excited to meet the rest of the group. On my Outward Bound trip, we spent the first week traversing the Patagonian landscape, and it was equal parts fun, challenging, and exhausting - physically and emotionally. We had two great, but completely different leaders: Rolando and CJ. Rolando was this feisty little Chilean who could have doubled as a motivational speaker. CJ, on the other hand, was 100% relaxed all the time...I'm not even that calm in my sleep! Both were very nice, and I winded up learning some of the most important lessons of the trip from these two people.
We hiked for about 7 hours the first day, and it felt exhilarating to be in the outdoors, at high altitude, with fresh air and the strong sun smiling down on us. As the day winded down, we parked ourselves near this beautiful river, surrounded by lush hills and mountains to protect us from the intense Patagonian winds. At the end of our day, Rolando had us all lay down in a circle, with our heads next to one another. He read us an historical letter that was sent by Chief Seattle of the Dwamish Tribe in Washington to President Pierce in 1855. It was in response to President Pierce's request to "buy" the land of the Dwamish people. Here's a short clip of what Chief Seattle said in response:
"How can you buy or sell the sky - the warmth of the land?
We do not own the freshness of the air or the sparkle of the water...
How can you buy them from us?"
Now, this is a very small excerpt of something very beautiful and meaningful, so I hope that you'll Goooooogle it at some point and read the whole thing because this small portion doesn't do it justice.
But the point of Rolando sharing this story with us was to remind us that the journey we were on was not just about having time to ourselves- to explore the wilderness and our deepest thoughts, both of which often get lost in the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Our journey through Patagonia was also meant to remind us of how fragile we as human beings really are. During several moments on the trip, I came frighteningly close to being seriously hurt- whether it was passing through a landslide while hanging onto a rope, or losing my balance on a sandy mountainside, 3000 meters up...with no place to go but straight down (all i'm going to say is THANK GOD for trekking poles). But by some freak of nature, I am still alive, so I've got that going for me.
What Chief Seattle alludes to is that we do not OWN the things we think we do. In fact, in many instances, the very things we think we own may actually own us (if you have a Crackberry, you know what I'm talking about). We have to be humbled by the delightfully small part we play in the grandiose planet we live on.
And here's the heart of the Chief's message: We are all one people. It doesn't matter what the color of our skin is, what country we are citizens of, how big or small or short or tall or WHATEVER we are. Because on a very fundamental level, we are all people, and thus, all equal. It's only in thinking you are more than someone else that, in my opinion, you become less.
...And that was the first, but perhaps one of the biggest lessons I learned during my time in Patagonia.
On the note of Hiking, here's what my schedule looked like over the first week:
- Wake up, stretch, meditate
- Breakfast of cereal and powdered milk & hot coffee (probably the worst coffee ever, but oh, how delicious things taste in the wilderness)
- Pack up camping gear
- Hike for 4 hours
- Siesta & Lunch (PB, homemade jam, & tortillas, or sausage, cheese, & crackers)
- Hike for another 4 hours (the sun didn't set until about 10:30 pm!)
- Set up camp, bathe in natural waterfalls and rivers, prepare dinner of pasta or rice with stir-fried vegetables and cheese (mmmmmm)
- Journal, pray, sleep!
...needless to say, I have never felt more healthy/exhausted in my entire life. This is obviously not a practical schedule for my day-to-day back home, but I do hope to incorporate some of this lifestyle from now on (more meditation, exercise, water, writing, sleep...)
On the second day, a bunch of us climbed Mount Redondo, which was about 1/4 - 1/5 the height of Mt. Everest. I'm not going to lie...after hiking that damn thing and taking in the view as I stood on a rock at the tip of the mountain ridge, I felt pretty damn impressed with myself. It was a blessing to have been healthy enough to do that, and I certainly don't take it for granted. When our instructor told us that we would be hiking a similar mountain the next day, but with 50lbs. of extra weight on our shoulders, I thought he was kidding. But OHHHHH, how wrong I was. We did it alright, and my body hated me for it, as I woke up the next morning with a strained back. Anyone whose ever had back problems knows that attempting to hike with a heavy pack on when your back is out of commission is pretty much the dumbest, most painful thing someone could put his- or her- self through. But I kept going, and at some points, my desire to continue was sustained only by the encouragement I received from other members on my trip.
On Day 4 of hiking, the group reached the pinnacle of the physical challenge when we had to safely make it across a strip of post-landslide terrain. I didn't really sweat it....until our leaders informed us that the rope we were carrying around "just in case" would have to be used to help us get to the other side without, uhhh, dying. Sweet.
To be honest, I wasn't really that worried about it, because when you decide to go hiking in the backwoods of Patagonia, you kind of go in with the expectation that crazy stuff is gonna go down. What made me nervous actually wasn't the trek across at all - it was the anticipation of it. It also didn't help knowing that no one had been on that part of the mountain in recent history. As the leaders went ahead alone to create a safe path for us, we were all standing there waiting on a ledge about 1.5 feet wide....just....waiting. For twenty minutes. Let me tell you, that may not feel like a lot when you are curled up in your bed watching Sex in the City. But when you've got the Argetinian sun beating down on you as you quietly stand on the ledge of a cliff, 20 minutes feels as painfully unending as the current U.S. recession. I'm happy to say that we all made it safely across....but here's the ironic part.
We spent over 30 minutes preparing the rope and getting us all safely across the landslide. But the part I found to be most dangerous (which came right after the landslide part), we were not prepared for or warned about. During the next part, we were hiking across a section of the mountain that was a 65 - 70 degree incline of loose sand. If we did not dig our feet into the sand properly, down we would topple with absolutely nothing in the way to help us stop. All of a sudden, Grant, a fellow group member yelled, "This isn't backpacking - this is death jumping!" hahaha..................MY. THOUGHTS. EXACTLY.
At one point, I slipped, and I was dangling from my trekking poles (I'm really not kidding - you should have these if you do any sort of intense hiking in the future). Had it not been for our local guide Pablo catching me, who knows what would have happened. Mind you, Pablo was 7 people in front of me. How he got to me in a matter of less than 5 seconds, I have no idea. But questioning these sorts of small miracles takes away from the time we have to be thankful for them, so I'll just smile and be thankful.
That afternoon of hiking taught me something very interesting about life in general: Sometimes we over-prepare for the parts in life that turn out not to be such a big deal, and at other times, we wait too long for the forewarning of danger that we are ill-prepared when it arrives...But I suppose if you believe in miracles, then something will always be there to catch your fall. Interpret that as you wish.
If you have read my e-mail this far, you may be thinking, "What in the hell is wrong with Melissa? Has she lost her mind going on this trip?"
Well...maybe. But if you think that what you've read so far is bad...it gets worse.
My real challenge came on the final long day of our backpacking week. After a very long morning of hiking, we sat down under a patch of lenga trees to have lunch. Since we had not been near a water source for about 15 hours, I was down to my final sips of water. Not good, considering we had another 3-4 hours of hiking ahead of us. To put more salt in the wound, my food group had very little food left for our last lunch meal- only about 3 cans of tuna for 4 of us. Since tuna may be the only food that I seriously, seriously dislike, I was the only one that went hungry. And while I watched everyone around me eat and no one offer me some of their food after my group attempted to find me something for 30 minutes, I began to feel pretty disheartened. For the first time, probably in my entire life, I realized that I had to rely on people that I really hadn't developed any trust with for my absolute basic needs, like food, water, and shelter. And that afternoon, as I sat there tired, hungry, and thirsty, this is what I realized:
No matter how well you think you know yourself -
what you like, what you dislike, how you behave in certain scenarios, your threshold for pain, etc... if you go backpacking in 90 degree heat with no water or food or energy or comfort/trust in the people who surround you...
You will start question how well you think you know yourself.
...I think this e-mail has been long enough, so I'll end it here for now. But here are a few questions that I hope you'll ponder until Part 2:
1.) If you were at a restaurant with a new friend and he or she wanted to have your last bite of food, would you give it to them?
2.) Say you had to sit at home and fast for 24 hours. During your last meal before the fast, your new friend came up to you and said they needed your last bite of food, would you give it to them?
3.) Now, say you were walking through a hot desert all day. You haven't eaten for many hours, and you don't know when you will have food next because you are in the middle of nowhere. If a new friend came up to you and asked you for your last bite of food, would you give it?
4.) Whether you answered yes or no to #3...Are You Sure?
Love Life,
Melissa Joy
After randomly meeting Kristin at the airport (she winded up being one of my closest friends on the trip), we were excited to meet the rest of the group. On my Outward Bound trip, we spent the first week traversing the Patagonian landscape, and it was equal parts fun, challenging, and exhausting - physically and emotionally. We had two great, but completely different leaders: Rolando and CJ. Rolando was this feisty little Chilean who could have doubled as a motivational speaker. CJ, on the other hand, was 100% relaxed all the time...I'm not even that calm in my sleep! Both were very nice, and I winded up learning some of the most important lessons of the trip from these two people.
We hiked for about 7 hours the first day, and it felt exhilarating to be in the outdoors, at high altitude, with fresh air and the strong sun smiling down on us. As the day winded down, we parked ourselves near this beautiful river, surrounded by lush hills and mountains to protect us from the intense Patagonian winds. At the end of our day, Rolando had us all lay down in a circle, with our heads next to one another. He read us an historical letter that was sent by Chief Seattle of the Dwamish Tribe in Washington to President Pierce in 1855. It was in response to President Pierce's request to "buy" the land of the Dwamish people. Here's a short clip of what Chief Seattle said in response:
"How can you buy or sell the sky - the warmth of the land?
We do not own the freshness of the air or the sparkle of the water...
How can you buy them from us?"
Now, this is a very small excerpt of something very beautiful and meaningful, so I hope that you'll Goooooogle it at some point and read the whole thing because this small portion doesn't do it justice.
But the point of Rolando sharing this story with us was to remind us that the journey we were on was not just about having time to ourselves- to explore the wilderness and our deepest thoughts, both of which often get lost in the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Our journey through Patagonia was also meant to remind us of how fragile we as human beings really are. During several moments on the trip, I came frighteningly close to being seriously hurt- whether it was passing through a landslide while hanging onto a rope, or losing my balance on a sandy mountainside, 3000 meters up...with no place to go but straight down (all i'm going to say is THANK GOD for trekking poles). But by some freak of nature, I am still alive, so I've got that going for me.
What Chief Seattle alludes to is that we do not OWN the things we think we do. In fact, in many instances, the very things we think we own may actually own us (if you have a Crackberry, you know what I'm talking about). We have to be humbled by the delightfully small part we play in the grandiose planet we live on.
And here's the heart of the Chief's message: We are all one people. It doesn't matter what the color of our skin is, what country we are citizens of, how big or small or short or tall or WHATEVER we are. Because on a very fundamental level, we are all people, and thus, all equal. It's only in thinking you are more than someone else that, in my opinion, you become less.
...And that was the first, but perhaps one of the biggest lessons I learned during my time in Patagonia.
On the note of Hiking, here's what my schedule looked like over the first week:
- Wake up, stretch, meditate
- Breakfast of cereal and powdered milk & hot coffee (probably the worst coffee ever, but oh, how delicious things taste in the wilderness)
- Pack up camping gear
- Hike for 4 hours
- Siesta & Lunch (PB, homemade jam, & tortillas, or sausage, cheese, & crackers)
- Hike for another 4 hours (the sun didn't set until about 10:30 pm!)
- Set up camp, bathe in natural waterfalls and rivers, prepare dinner of pasta or rice with stir-fried vegetables and cheese (mmmmmm)
- Journal, pray, sleep!
...needless to say, I have never felt more healthy/exhausted in my entire life. This is obviously not a practical schedule for my day-to-day back home, but I do hope to incorporate some of this lifestyle from now on (more meditation, exercise, water, writing, sleep...)
On the second day, a bunch of us climbed Mount Redondo, which was about 1/4 - 1/5 the height of Mt. Everest. I'm not going to lie...after hiking that damn thing and taking in the view as I stood on a rock at the tip of the mountain ridge, I felt pretty damn impressed with myself. It was a blessing to have been healthy enough to do that, and I certainly don't take it for granted. When our instructor told us that we would be hiking a similar mountain the next day, but with 50lbs. of extra weight on our shoulders, I thought he was kidding. But OHHHHH, how wrong I was. We did it alright, and my body hated me for it, as I woke up the next morning with a strained back. Anyone whose ever had back problems knows that attempting to hike with a heavy pack on when your back is out of commission is pretty much the dumbest, most painful thing someone could put his- or her- self through. But I kept going, and at some points, my desire to continue was sustained only by the encouragement I received from other members on my trip.
On Day 4 of hiking, the group reached the pinnacle of the physical challenge when we had to safely make it across a strip of post-landslide terrain. I didn't really sweat it....until our leaders informed us that the rope we were carrying around "just in case" would have to be used to help us get to the other side without, uhhh, dying. Sweet.
To be honest, I wasn't really that worried about it, because when you decide to go hiking in the backwoods of Patagonia, you kind of go in with the expectation that crazy stuff is gonna go down. What made me nervous actually wasn't the trek across at all - it was the anticipation of it. It also didn't help knowing that no one had been on that part of the mountain in recent history. As the leaders went ahead alone to create a safe path for us, we were all standing there waiting on a ledge about 1.5 feet wide....just....waiting. For twenty minutes. Let me tell you, that may not feel like a lot when you are curled up in your bed watching Sex in the City. But when you've got the Argetinian sun beating down on you as you quietly stand on the ledge of a cliff, 20 minutes feels as painfully unending as the current U.S. recession. I'm happy to say that we all made it safely across....but here's the ironic part.
We spent over 30 minutes preparing the rope and getting us all safely across the landslide. But the part I found to be most dangerous (which came right after the landslide part), we were not prepared for or warned about. During the next part, we were hiking across a section of the mountain that was a 65 - 70 degree incline of loose sand. If we did not dig our feet into the sand properly, down we would topple with absolutely nothing in the way to help us stop. All of a sudden, Grant, a fellow group member yelled, "This isn't backpacking - this is death jumping!" hahaha..................MY. THOUGHTS. EXACTLY.
At one point, I slipped, and I was dangling from my trekking poles (I'm really not kidding - you should have these if you do any sort of intense hiking in the future). Had it not been for our local guide Pablo catching me, who knows what would have happened. Mind you, Pablo was 7 people in front of me. How he got to me in a matter of less than 5 seconds, I have no idea. But questioning these sorts of small miracles takes away from the time we have to be thankful for them, so I'll just smile and be thankful.
That afternoon of hiking taught me something very interesting about life in general: Sometimes we over-prepare for the parts in life that turn out not to be such a big deal, and at other times, we wait too long for the forewarning of danger that we are ill-prepared when it arrives...But I suppose if you believe in miracles, then something will always be there to catch your fall. Interpret that as you wish.
If you have read my e-mail this far, you may be thinking, "What in the hell is wrong with Melissa? Has she lost her mind going on this trip?"
Well...maybe. But if you think that what you've read so far is bad...it gets worse.
My real challenge came on the final long day of our backpacking week. After a very long morning of hiking, we sat down under a patch of lenga trees to have lunch. Since we had not been near a water source for about 15 hours, I was down to my final sips of water. Not good, considering we had another 3-4 hours of hiking ahead of us. To put more salt in the wound, my food group had very little food left for our last lunch meal- only about 3 cans of tuna for 4 of us. Since tuna may be the only food that I seriously, seriously dislike, I was the only one that went hungry. And while I watched everyone around me eat and no one offer me some of their food after my group attempted to find me something for 30 minutes, I began to feel pretty disheartened. For the first time, probably in my entire life, I realized that I had to rely on people that I really hadn't developed any trust with for my absolute basic needs, like food, water, and shelter. And that afternoon, as I sat there tired, hungry, and thirsty, this is what I realized:
No matter how well you think you know yourself -
what you like, what you dislike, how you behave in certain scenarios, your threshold for pain, etc... if you go backpacking in 90 degree heat with no water or food or energy or comfort/trust in the people who surround you...
You will start question how well you think you know yourself.
...I think this e-mail has been long enough, so I'll end it here for now. But here are a few questions that I hope you'll ponder until Part 2:
1.) If you were at a restaurant with a new friend and he or she wanted to have your last bite of food, would you give it to them?
2.) Say you had to sit at home and fast for 24 hours. During your last meal before the fast, your new friend came up to you and said they needed your last bite of food, would you give it to them?
3.) Now, say you were walking through a hot desert all day. You haven't eaten for many hours, and you don't know when you will have food next because you are in the middle of nowhere. If a new friend came up to you and asked you for your last bite of food, would you give it?
4.) Whether you answered yes or no to #3...Are You Sure?
Love Life,
Melissa Joy
As Far As You Can Go Without Falling Off The Earth
Hola!
I am off again. Most of you know I can´t sit still for more than a few months at a time, but I decided to trek a little further than Europe this time. I am currently in Bariloche, Argentina. Over the next few weeks, I will be backpacking through the Patagoia region in Argentina (pretty much as far south as you can go in the world, with the exception of the South Pole).
I won´t be sending lots of long detailed messages every 4 days like I was in Europe, as I won´t have e-mail access for most of this trip. But, I figured I would send an e-mail or two to the people I love anyway!
So briefly, here´s what´s happened on my first 2 days. I spent the first 30 hours traveling. 5 flights, 4 airports, 3 large cappucinos, and 2.5 restless hours of sleep later, I arrived in Buenos Aires! And I thought NYC was big....sheesh! I was SHOCKED by the size of that city.
Although I´ve traveled a lot in the past few years, I can´t help that semi-scared, semi-thrilled feeling I get whenever I land in a new place. Some people get stage butterflies...I get travel butterflies. And I wouldn´t have it any other way. It can be nervewrecking when you know you are about to step foot in a country where most of the people won´t understand you and you might completely embarass yourself by doing something culturally inappropriate. This time around, I was a little more nervous becuase I didn´t plan any accomodation...I just kind of figured I would wing it when I got here.
But, I didn´t have to wing it. When I was waiting for my bag, a girl came up to me and said, ¨I don´t mean to be weird, but are you by any chance flying to Bariloche?¨Ummm, yesss...¨Are you by any chance going on the Patagonia Outward Boud trip in a few days?¨...
AHHHH!!!! She was going to be on the trip with me! When I asked her how she knew, she said it was the hiking boots hanging off of my backpack. The funny thing is, I was planning on putting them back on 20 minutes before she came up to me. Had I done that, she probably wouldn´t have come up to me. It was one of those ¨wow¨ moments where you realize that something as simple as keeping your flip flops on would change the entire trajectory of your trip.
Kristin is AWESOME. Such a great, friendly girl from the midwest. We winded up hanging out all day to and at the small town of Bariloche, Argentina. I decided to go with her to her hostel to see if they had space for one more, and I got the last bed! SA-WEEEEET. Love it when that happens! We saw the sights, went to the beautiful Iglesias de San Carlos de Bariloche, took a stroll along the scenic Lago Nahuel Huapi (a HUGE but amazing, prestine lake), and had cervezas at 2 in the afternoon on a small sidestreet.
The highlight of the day had to be when Kristin told me within 5 minutes of me meeting her, ¨Crap, I left my jacket on the airplane.¨ I was horrified for her, because I get cold really easily and took the packing list quite seriously (I think I have enough Under Armour and Gore Tex for the entire group going on this trip (none of whom I know at this point other than Kristin). But seriously, how could she not be more upset about losing her coat? She simply said, ¨If that´s the worst thing I lose on this trip, I´ll consider myself lucky. I lose everything. As long as I don´t lose my passport or camera, I´m fine.¨
...But you know what comes next right? ...Yep, she lost her passport. After about 5 minutes of us both freaking out, an American woman (probably the only other American in Bariloche) came up to us and said she found it. PHEW! Possible disaster number 1: dodged =)
Needless to say, it´s been a great trip so far. So here are some random occurances that have made it worth the VERY long travel time:
1.) The flight attendant asked me what I wanted to drink in Spanish, and after about 4 words, it became clear I wasn´t exactly, uhhhh, fluent. She turned to the guy next to me and, in very good English, asked the blonde-haired , blue-eyed dude what he wanted. What really tripped me up was that even after learning that I was not hispanic, she kept talking to me in VERY fast Spanish!¨: ¨Quieres tocar? Quieres comer?,¨listing off all the food choices she had and me not understanding a lick of it. And THEN, as I stumbled over my Spanglish, she turned to my little neighbor and politely said, ¨Now sir, what can I get you for dinner this evening?¨
So my question is, do I have a stamp on my forehead that says, Ïf you are a flight attendant, please make me feel like a fool for being an incompetent, uni-lingual American?¨ No, no I do not. It was kind of hilarious...but I'll be purchasing Rosetta Stone when I get back to the states.
2.) After having spent the first 6 years of my life with a Puerto-Rican babysitter, grown up with a Colombian best childhood friend (love you, Vivi), and spent time in a few Spanish speaking countries, I came to the conclusion in Argentina that even though Spanish is one language, it can sound drastically different depending on who you are talking to. When I was telling this to Kristin as I attempted to read a Spanish newspaper, I was like, ¨See? look at this headline. I´ve never, ever seen the word TECHNIT in the Spanish vocabulary before.¨
...A few moments later, I of course came to the realization that TECHNIT was a proper last name, not an actual word. hahaha...Nice going, Melis, nice going.
3.) And my last thought- When I was on the plane flying into Bariloche, I looked out the window and saw the Patagonian mountains from 10,000 feet up and about 50 miles away. To be honest, my first initial thought was, ¨They look like every other set of mountains I´ve seen.¨ But as I got closer and closer to them, I began to notice more of the landscape and it became increasingly breathtaking.
What I realized was that sometimes, we can really sense the beauty and purpose of something when we can see the big picture. But other times, we only come to know how beautiful something is when we look more closely...that the beauty of something lies in it´s details, which you may not come to notice if you are just glancing it over.
So if you have any resolutions for the year, I hope one of them will be to take more time to get to know things, ideologies, and people beyond a first impression- you might be astounded by the beauty and understanding you find.
WISHING YOU ALL A WODERFUL, BLESSED NEW YEAR!
Lots of Love,
Melissa
I am off again. Most of you know I can´t sit still for more than a few months at a time, but I decided to trek a little further than Europe this time. I am currently in Bariloche, Argentina. Over the next few weeks, I will be backpacking through the Patagoia region in Argentina (pretty much as far south as you can go in the world, with the exception of the South Pole).
I won´t be sending lots of long detailed messages every 4 days like I was in Europe, as I won´t have e-mail access for most of this trip. But, I figured I would send an e-mail or two to the people I love anyway!
So briefly, here´s what´s happened on my first 2 days. I spent the first 30 hours traveling. 5 flights, 4 airports, 3 large cappucinos, and 2.5 restless hours of sleep later, I arrived in Buenos Aires! And I thought NYC was big....sheesh! I was SHOCKED by the size of that city.
Although I´ve traveled a lot in the past few years, I can´t help that semi-scared, semi-thrilled feeling I get whenever I land in a new place. Some people get stage butterflies...I get travel butterflies. And I wouldn´t have it any other way. It can be nervewrecking when you know you are about to step foot in a country where most of the people won´t understand you and you might completely embarass yourself by doing something culturally inappropriate. This time around, I was a little more nervous becuase I didn´t plan any accomodation...I just kind of figured I would wing it when I got here.
But, I didn´t have to wing it. When I was waiting for my bag, a girl came up to me and said, ¨I don´t mean to be weird, but are you by any chance flying to Bariloche?¨Ummm, yesss...¨Are you by any chance going on the Patagonia Outward Boud trip in a few days?¨...
AHHHH!!!! She was going to be on the trip with me! When I asked her how she knew, she said it was the hiking boots hanging off of my backpack. The funny thing is, I was planning on putting them back on 20 minutes before she came up to me. Had I done that, she probably wouldn´t have come up to me. It was one of those ¨wow¨ moments where you realize that something as simple as keeping your flip flops on would change the entire trajectory of your trip.
Kristin is AWESOME. Such a great, friendly girl from the midwest. We winded up hanging out all day to and at the small town of Bariloche, Argentina. I decided to go with her to her hostel to see if they had space for one more, and I got the last bed! SA-WEEEEET. Love it when that happens! We saw the sights, went to the beautiful Iglesias de San Carlos de Bariloche, took a stroll along the scenic Lago Nahuel Huapi (a HUGE but amazing, prestine lake), and had cervezas at 2 in the afternoon on a small sidestreet.
The highlight of the day had to be when Kristin told me within 5 minutes of me meeting her, ¨Crap, I left my jacket on the airplane.¨ I was horrified for her, because I get cold really easily and took the packing list quite seriously (I think I have enough Under Armour and Gore Tex for the entire group going on this trip (none of whom I know at this point other than Kristin). But seriously, how could she not be more upset about losing her coat? She simply said, ¨If that´s the worst thing I lose on this trip, I´ll consider myself lucky. I lose everything. As long as I don´t lose my passport or camera, I´m fine.¨
...But you know what comes next right? ...Yep, she lost her passport. After about 5 minutes of us both freaking out, an American woman (probably the only other American in Bariloche) came up to us and said she found it. PHEW! Possible disaster number 1: dodged =)
Needless to say, it´s been a great trip so far. So here are some random occurances that have made it worth the VERY long travel time:
1.) The flight attendant asked me what I wanted to drink in Spanish, and after about 4 words, it became clear I wasn´t exactly, uhhhh, fluent. She turned to the guy next to me and, in very good English, asked the blonde-haired , blue-eyed dude what he wanted. What really tripped me up was that even after learning that I was not hispanic, she kept talking to me in VERY fast Spanish!¨: ¨Quieres tocar? Quieres comer?,¨listing off all the food choices she had and me not understanding a lick of it. And THEN, as I stumbled over my Spanglish, she turned to my little neighbor and politely said, ¨Now sir, what can I get you for dinner this evening?¨
So my question is, do I have a stamp on my forehead that says, Ïf you are a flight attendant, please make me feel like a fool for being an incompetent, uni-lingual American?¨ No, no I do not. It was kind of hilarious...but I'll be purchasing Rosetta Stone when I get back to the states.
2.) After having spent the first 6 years of my life with a Puerto-Rican babysitter, grown up with a Colombian best childhood friend (love you, Vivi), and spent time in a few Spanish speaking countries, I came to the conclusion in Argentina that even though Spanish is one language, it can sound drastically different depending on who you are talking to. When I was telling this to Kristin as I attempted to read a Spanish newspaper, I was like, ¨See? look at this headline. I´ve never, ever seen the word TECHNIT in the Spanish vocabulary before.¨
...A few moments later, I of course came to the realization that TECHNIT was a proper last name, not an actual word. hahaha...Nice going, Melis, nice going.
3.) And my last thought- When I was on the plane flying into Bariloche, I looked out the window and saw the Patagonian mountains from 10,000 feet up and about 50 miles away. To be honest, my first initial thought was, ¨They look like every other set of mountains I´ve seen.¨ But as I got closer and closer to them, I began to notice more of the landscape and it became increasingly breathtaking.
What I realized was that sometimes, we can really sense the beauty and purpose of something when we can see the big picture. But other times, we only come to know how beautiful something is when we look more closely...that the beauty of something lies in it´s details, which you may not come to notice if you are just glancing it over.
So if you have any resolutions for the year, I hope one of them will be to take more time to get to know things, ideologies, and people beyond a first impression- you might be astounded by the beauty and understanding you find.
WISHING YOU ALL A WODERFUL, BLESSED NEW YEAR!
Lots of Love,
Melissa
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
