Explore? Check. Dream? Always. Discover? You bet.

Once a year, go somewhere you’ve never been before– Dalai Lama

I was recently in the camping store around the corner from my house and as I got lost in the backpacking section–dreaming of far away places–I overheard one of the employees say to another employee “If you really are a backpacker your bag is always packed. She said that it was going to take her a few days to figure out what to bring, but if you ask me, I am ready. I am always packed and ready to go. Tell me when we are leaving and I will grab my bag and be out the door.”

I am in the midst of packing. Everyone packs differently. Some people make long lists, packing weeks in advance, while others pack the day of and throw everything into whatever is near by. Some people bring outfits, while others bring only what they have on and are lucky if they remember a toothbrush. I know both kinds of packers and I have done both. This past weekend, in a desperate attempt to get out of the city, I grabbed a clean t-shirt, my swimsuit and a toothbrush and caught the first train out of town.

With the world whizzing by outside my window, I felt the change of scenery reflect off my face and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of freedom and open space that you can only feel from getting away. A friend recently told me that the best thing you can do is change your view–be it your mindset, or what is outside your window–for me–I needed both. My train took me to open sky, green space and good company.

This week I am packing for a much bigger adventure. I sit surrounded by stacks and piles of what may or may not come with me. I ponder my packing list, adding and tossing as I go and in some ways, I wish I could just throw my hair up, stuff a clean shirt in my pocket and head out the door. I envy the guy in the backpacking section and I almost wish he was here to help me realize I don’t need any of these things at all–just my journal and my head. 

Packing Essentials for an Adventure

Passport (complete with extra pages)

Sunscreen (healthy skin is in)

Earl Grey (kick start to the day and reminds me of home)

Hoodie (an airplane essential–never be afraid to layer)

Scarf (helps perk up an outfit, becomes a makeshift blanket)

Toothbrush (duh!)

Journal (for all the cards, watercolors, sketches, and treasures you collect along the way)

Pocket sized camera (say cheese!)

Comfy walking shoes (because blisters can wreck a perfectly good day)

A good book (to remind you to sit down and relax!)

Postcards (for friends and loved ones) and don’t forget addresses!

Face wipes (to clear the airplane/street grime from your face)

A zip lock baggie filled with NYC (to remind me of what I am missing)

A zip lock baggie filled with Portland (to remind me of home)

This cup is for Eli & Dave–Don’t worry about what to pack, just be sure to make memories that will last a lifetime... and to the (pre)travel butterflies...I feel you. 

Scattered Memories

I am reaching deep for words–for a train of thought–for the perfect thing to say–except I can’t find it. All I can say is that I will always remember. I will remember sitting in the sun, taking in the summer sea breeze, and eating a grilled Panini at Heather’s Café. I will remember when I was little, catching your eye, shyly waving as I made my way through stacks of books, dodging authors and shuffling through the crowd. I will remember dressing up and coming to your art show, taking in the vast detail of tiny cities and intricate features that made your gourds unique and beautiful–one of a kind. I will remember your enthusiasm, your character, your grace. I will think of all the support and guidance that you gave along the way, your encouragement, and most of all your friendship. Sharing stories, sharing food, sharing art will be just a few of the many things that I will miss. And no matter how long I stay in New York City, I will always have your apple to remind me of this chapter, to remind me of the true meaning of beauty and craftsmanship, and to remind me of you.

This cup is for Klaus. 

Happiness

I am currently reading a book called The Geography of Bliss and it has started to make me think a whole lot more about happiness. Most days I go about my world finding little ways to make it happy, be it a fresh pot of coffee, good people, great conversation, old friends, new friends, a yummy dinner, a long run, sleeping in, starting a new painting, finishing a good book–having a productive day. I can recognize the pings of happiness that I feel when a friend picks up on the other end of the phone, when I receive mail in my mailbox, when the cookies turn out just right (not burned on the bottom), when I hear my parents voice on the other end of the line, when I have logged the mileage that ends on a runners high, receiving the acceptance letter, hearing good news–an engagement, a birth, an invite, an adventure.

I felt the ping of happiness when my plane landed in Portland. As the raindrops pelted the window and fogged up my view of the runway, I knew I was home, and I felt the happiness deep in my gut.

When I got home, dumping my junk in the hall, my yellow lab practically knocked me over with happiness, her excitement extending from tongue to tail. Paws barely touching the floor, circling me over and over in a flurry of utter shock and delight she couldn’t believe (or remember) that I was finally home. I felt the happiness encircle us as I grabbed her into a hug, squeezing her tight to my chest, taking in her salty dog breath.

Thinking about it now, Lottie is always happy. It doesn’t matter if it is 5am or 10pm she is happy. It doesn’t matter if it is raining and sleet or sunny and dry, everyday she happily waits eagerly by the door for someone to let her outside. On days when the rest of the house can’t seem to get a break (be it a bad day or the blues) Lottie will happily wag her tail your direction. On days when we can’t stop laughing, Lottie can feel the energy in the room (somehow signaling to her that it would be a good idea to chase her tail or jump up and down). I have never woken up to an unhappy lab, and I have never ended the night with one.

This is the best part about having a dog–they seem to always stay in one state of mind–happiness. For a dog, their memory falls short of a second, so they don’t remember the last time they were (un) happy and so they focus on the present–which to them must mean only one thing–happiness.

While I am happy most any place, I am happiest in Portland. In Portland I feel better than anywhere else–and so today I am sad to leave. But I know that more happiness is just around the corner and when I hit a low point, I will think of Lottie and her tail happily waging to the beat of her happy heart.

This cup is for Emma: Who knows the exact coordinates of my happiest destination, for all the dogs out there–most of all mine and to Portland–obviously.