Strivings

I apologize that I have once again fallen off of the blog-wagon.  The move from California back to Alaska hindered my motivation to sit and write.  There have been settlings, outings, adventures, hikes, walks, trips, and friends trumping any sort of interesting thoughts stirring in my head.  Bare with me for this entry, it's sure to enforce that I am currently still scatterbrained.

This is the beautiful house that my friend Adam Haberski recently moved into up in Fairbanks.  He too has moved up to Alaska(actually right around the same time that I moved back here to Sitka).  I met him at Genzyme, and he flew out there for a vacation, and now is going to school there. He is awesome, and I am glad that he is living out his dreams and not holding back.

Similarly, my friend Zach, who I am taking over for at the Raptor Center as a bird handler/trainer, Is leaving to finish school back in Idaho.  Many times, we wait too long to act on our passions, and the chances slip by.  It is refreshing to see that my friends strive for that same contentment with life that I do.
Many times, we wait too long to act on our passions, and the chances slip by.  It is refreshing to see that my friends strive for that same contentment with life that I do.

We are not held back by birthing children, unsatisfying jobs (no, I'm not talking about money), society's norms / pressures / expectations.  We are living for ourselves, not for what is expected of us.  Yes, it is (in a way) a selfish way to live, but which way of life is unselfish?  Are we not striving for our own happiness, whether it be material or internal?

I think I am taking steps in the right direction for my life.  I am no longer in Los Angeles.  I am back in the town which I felt strong attachments to a few years ago.  I have a surreal job.  I can attain the happiness that I believe to be most important every day that I wake.  What better feeling is there than to be alive and experiencing your own heart's utopian dream?  I attest that there is none.  Likely for most others this lifestyle is far from 'utopian', but I can at least say that I am doing what I love and what makes me happy every day.  Are you at that point in your life?  If not, don't settle for anything less.  No matter the situation, no matter the cost. 

Changes

Lots of new things are happening in my life, and I have found myself being unable to sit down and write a thoughtful entry in this for a few weeks again.  I apologize, but I believe I will be able to focus more energy into this once again now.

Two days ago, Kate left for an amazing endeavour to Sydney to work on a cruise ship as an aerialist performer.  I am beyond words happy for her in this pursuit of her dreams.  It is extremely motivating and inspirational to have someone like her in my life.  Cheers to her and this 7 month adventure!

As for me, I am moving on to a new chapter as well!  In 10 days, I will be moving back up to the small fishing town of Sitka, Alaska to become a bird handler and trainer at the Alaska Raptor Center.  This is something that I have (since my first two experiences living and working in the town in 2008 and 2009) wanted to do.  I am extremely grateful to be given the opportunity to do this, and am ready to move back there.  Most people would think that I am fairly odd for leaving the Southern California sunshine for a temperate rain forest setting, but most of those people have never been there, and the others have a clouded thought of what is pristine.  =)

Though we will be apart for some time, Kate's path and mine will cross in the foreseeable future.  The best part about our relationship is the ability for us to both explore what it is that we are passionate about in a career sense, without holding each other back.  I am glad that she and I made it out to So Cal, even if the location is not what we were expecting or looking for in a long-term sense.

To have the options and ability to truly and physically relocate to explore a career path is what a mid-twenties lifestyle should be about.  We are too young to be held down by a mortgage or children, and we are too strong to be held down by the pressures of others' settling for a job and place which is sustainable but uninspiring.  This is why we live - to discover what it is that we are truly seeking.  To discover what makes us most content with this life.

What better way to discover than explore those possibilities and places?

On Lab Animals in Medical Research

To stem off of my last week’s posting about our dear friend Jeffo’s passing, I would like to take the time to support and hopefully bring to light justification for laboratory animal use in the medical research field to those of you are ignorant enough to disagree with it.

After an amazing experience in Alaska in 2009, I was offered a position at Genzyme Corporation as an Animal Care Technician (that’s right:  I went from cutting up mice for birds of prey to feed on to taking care of those mice in a lab).  I was, at the time, unaware of the direct significance my job had on what my friend Jeffo was dealing with.  About 6 months into working at Genzyme, I spoke with one of the researchers about what they were working on, and came to find that they were testing drugs which would inhibit the body’s rejection of a foreign heart in the recipient.  In these mice, there were literally 2 hearts pumping at the same time.  I felt SO proud to be helping with this research which could play a HUGE role in one of my best friends’ future, and immediately told him about it when I got home that day.

When I moved out to Los Angeles to work at UCLA in an almost identical setting, I was surprised to find that there are often extremely large anti-lab animal research protests.  It infuriated me to think that these people were all against what I (and countless others) believe to be such a respectable and important career, but I didn’t let it bother me too much.  It was only after Jeffo’s passing a couple of weeks ago that I thought of the situation again.

Have these idiots ever processed in their brains what their outlook on the matter would be if it were their child, or mother, or brother, or sister suffering and succumbing to a rare disease?  How would they feel if one of their best friend’s was losing a battle with an incurable disease?  I’m willing to bet that 99% of those animal “activists” would chose to have a few people investigate how to cure the disease rather than sit by and accept it.  If you happen to be one of these idiots, come talk to me when you lose someone you care about in said situation.

I know that by cleaning mouse cages for a year may have helped to save someone’s life, and I am extremely proud to be working in this field.  Even if all that comes out of this career is that one time I got to tell Jeffo about the research, and to have him tell me it made his day, this has been worth every minute.

Memorandum

               For the past 6 weeks, I have failed to update this blog.  I know, I said it would be 52 weeks straight of me writing in this, but things change, though I have decided to write as much as possible still.  Since I last updated, there is only one topic who trumps all the others, and that is the passing of our good friend Jeff O’Brien.

                Jeffo didn’t learn about his heart condition until he was 19 and has been fighting an unfathomable battle for the last 7 years, which finally defeated him on the 18^th of March.  There are reasons for things to happen, and there are things which seem unreasonable to be happening.  Jeffo’s condition was one of the unreasonable ones.  Jeffo’s entire journey was one that a close group of friends and I got to be a part of, and over the last 7 years I got to witness strength that I am certain I will never be able to fully comprehend.

                Jeffo and I were religiously tied to hockey from a young age.  We lived within a half mile of each other, and I suppose it’s no surprise that we grew up playing street hockey almost every day after school with a group of like-minded individuals.  It wasn’t until Jeffo went off to college (and then myself a year later as well) that we stopped playing hockey in such large quantities.  A few months before Jeffo’s condition hindered his ability to play, we resurrected the same old, worn, discolored hockey net (which still to this day remains functional) and shot around in his driveway until the sunlight had dissipated in the evening sky.

In lieu of street hockey, Jeffo created a Fantasy Hockey League group for us all to join some 5 years ago.  Up until his passing, he won more than anyone else in that league, and it’s fair to say that he loved hockey more than any of us.  He sat atop the league standings by an unforgiving margin the day he passed away, and will remain league champion always.

                Some stories have the power to change lives, and Jeffo’s story has done that to me.  I will always be thankful for what I have been given, and never take a day for granted.  We never know what kind of a curveball the future can throw, and where we will be in 5 years from now, or 5 MINUTES from now.  Live for the present, not for the future.  Jeffo’s quote which he chose to have hanging above him at the wake states it best:  “And in the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years.”

Thanks for the decades of good memories, fun times, and hockey talk, buddy.  <3

Conditions

                In my life, I have had a miniscule number of body injuries that have been serious or worrisome.  In the summer of 2008 I hyper-extended my knee, which still from time to time bothers me, but I don’t consider it a threatening injury.  A year and a half ago, I had a disease scare which opened my eyes to the possibilities of limitations which I could acquire in my lifetime.  I began to have bowel problems in July of 2010.  At first, I thought nothing of it, but after 6 months of problems, I began to worry.

I went to the doctors to find out that I had a potential case of Crohn’s Disease, which is a very serious problem that can lead to many severe issues later in life.  I had a colonoscopy at age 25, and swallowed a camera pill capsule to have the diagnosis of the disease decided.  There were about 3 weeks that went by where I had to read up on and asses the changes I would have to make in my life to accommodate for the disease.  It was an awful feeling.  I was eventually told that after the examination and pictures, I did not have Crohn’s, but had Irritable Bowel Syndrome (which basically means I don’t have Crohn’s, but they don’t know what it is).  A year has passed since the news, and my condition has bettered, though still not to 100% as before.

It was such an eye-opening experience for me; I didn’t know what to do.  I was so shocked because I had always taken such good care of myself and my body.  Some things are hard to swallow, and the idea that my condition was beyond anything that I could do to better myself was one of them.  Many of us (including me) become comfortable with things we are not limited by on a daily basis, and when we are faced with facts which could even slightly hinder some of the things which we are lucky to never be forced to take into consideration, it can be a huge game-changer.  I never thought I would have to pay attention to everything I eat (beyond what is healthy and not healthy), but now I pay attention to every reaction my body has to anything that I put in it.  I have to test out different grains and how my intestines react to them, how I feel in the morning from the meal last night, etc.  Now honestly, my condition is DWARFED by so many other conditions which are far more severe, and I am thankful for that, but it has absolutely changed my perspective of what my limitations for treating my body are, and what is beyond my control.

One of my friends from home in Massachusetts has a Congenial Heart Disease, and another is a Cancer survivor and currently battles with Crohn’s Disease.  They have both showed me that despite what you have been given you can always fight back, and to always be grateful for what opportunities we have to be on this planet.  No matter what condition you are in (physically or psychologically), you must think of it as opportunity to prove that you can overcome any obstacles that are placed in your path.

On Altered Reality

                A couple of weeks ago, I drove North of Santa Monica to the Valley for a concert at the Cobalt Café to see the band Casey Jones perform on their official final tour as a band.  Their message as a band represents a very meaningful aspect of my life, and to have the chance to see them one last time was a good way to remind me of why I am proud to be “Stright Edge”.

                “Straight Edge” is a term coined by the band Minor Threat, which brought about a movement in the 1980’s of an alcohol and recreational drug free culture.  I was in High School when I first learned about the ideals of Straight Edge, which were heavily incorporated in the music scene that I had at the time just immersed myself in.  When I learned about this entire network of people who had the same feelings as I about drugs, cigarettes, and alcohol, I was immediately attached.

At the time, many of my friends were beginning experiment with drugs and alcohol, which I quickly discovered I wanted to have nothing to do with.  The ideas of an altered state of mind for enjoyment didn’t make sense, and it raised so many questions for me.  What is wrong with the state of being which we are already a part of, and what is so dull about it?  Why do you need to pretend to “not remember” last night but spend the next 15 minutes mapping your entire journey’s details to me?  Why is it cool to tell your friends about how stupid you acted, and how many people you almost got into a fight with?  Why would I want to chance getting into an accident and seriously hurting myself?  Why would I want to chance seriously hurting someone ELSE?  Why do I want waste half of my weekend laying in bed with a hangover because of an overdose of alcohol on a Friday night just to keep up with the bro-dudes who are going to be overweight with beer belly’s by their early 30s?

I will admit that I have had personal family experiences which have drastically helped shape my decisions to not drink, but I can’t help but point out that there is no possible way that it is as uncommon a motivation for others to make the same choices.  Recreational drinking to an acceptable level is understandable, but for people to literally pass out or end up in the hospital because of what they are drinking is and will always be far beyond any plausible and reasonable explanation to me.

Cigarettes are an even easier activity to deny.  Did anyone else learn in the 5^th grade that Cigarettes cause cancer, and are a photo-finish away from being the worst thing that you can do to your body, only second to putting a gun to your face and pulling the trigger?  I understand that our parents’ generation were not as knowledged on the affects, but there is absolutely no excuse for current generations.  Why would anyone want to have the lung capacity of an 80 year old while in their 40s?  Albeit most people don’t want to die at a young age, many are choosing to cut theirs short and can’t find the will power to change.  It’s a tough addiction to overcome, and that I understand. But when it means early death in an already fragile existence, what valid excuse can trump?  I attest that there is none.

College was easily the most disconcerting experiences with regards to drug and alcohol abuse which I have ever had the displeasure to experience.  People I knew from High School had gone from excelling in their studies to failing out of the higher education system.  It was literally scary to watch people throwing away their values for some cheap laughs and stories.  An ex-girlfriend delighted in telling the story of how she flooded a hotel room during a semester abroad in France due to an alcoholic blackout, causing hundreds of dollars of damage (an event which I still award no brownie points for, but would be interested to know if others are able to grasp the comedic entity of it).  Though the ‘peer pressure’ of college seemed to run most peoples’ self respect, morals, and history into the ground, I was able to escape it drug and alcohol free. Despite my choice, I, like everyone else, still found it to be one of the most enjoyable experiences of my life.  The only difference is that I and a handful of friends spent our time unconventionally sober.  My senior year Spring Break actually consisted of a road trip with two of my best friends, Joe and Bob, to Virginia Beach to view a Casey Jones concert, where we were able to share a long weekend of singing and embracing of our long term friendship.

Growing up with a group of friends who believed in many of the same ideals as I surely made the avoidance of drugs and alcohol much easier, and I am thankful to say many of my friends still hold true to the foundations which we laid so long ago.  My beautiful and loving girlfriend, Kate Surgen (who I not surprisingly met through many shared co-sober times in college) is one of those people who shares similar feelings as I do towards the negative aspects of these issues, and always supports my conscious decisions.

This does not mean that I do not advocate the bar and club scene, it just means that I think there are infinite other ways to meet new people and have conversations that are (in my opinion) more valuable.  I will continue to go through my life in one unaltered consciousness, and will take that accomplishment with me to the grave.

Deference to Max

Today has over the last decade become the day that I celebrate my long-time pet Max’s birthday.  I don’t know why, because I know that I bought him sometime close to my First Communion in late April / early May, but alas, I celebrate it on this day.  Since I was a tiny little boy, I have been fascinated by the Earth’s natural world.  I remember being in absolute awe when I would go to places such as the zoo, or to the Aquarium.  I’m pretty sure that the majority of my birthday celebrations were requested to be accompanied by a trip to the Aquarium, or the Ecotarium in Worcester.

Though I was always obsessed with animals, for some reason turtles became the most fascinating to me.  I was always enthralled by their anatomical characteristics, which evolution had so strangely molded in a completely different manner than anything else that I had experienced, or could grasp.  I remember summers in Maine where the elusive sighting or catching of (what was seemingly in my youth) the human body weight-equivalent Common Snapping Turtle.  I was amazed by their size and ability to be so large yet so elusive.  Year in and year out, the sightings always excited me more than anything else which I can recall from childhood.

I attained the idea that I could come to observe a turtle whenever I please if I were to have my own as a pet.  I remember my Aunt provided me with a glass tank that would become his home, and was unendingly thankful for it.  I next was able to use the funds from which I gained through my First Communion gifts to visit a local pet store (Tropical Isle, to be exact) to pick my new friend.  I spent a good amount of time contemplating which turtle I wanted, and finally made the decision (to which I am sure my parents were less than thrilled about, as I am sure they were aware of the potential life span of a turtle that was well maintained).  When I got him back to the house, put him in his new abode, and I watched him until I slept that night.

Max and I have since shared more experiences than any other aquatic turtle and an owner, I’m sure.  He was a mutant animal that terrorized my G.I. Joes, and the challenger of the Undertaker in a wrestling match. He’s been the star of a few photo shoots.  He has travelled from my parents’ back yard in Massachusetts to the woods of Maine, and now over 3,000 miles to Southern California as a carry-on baggage item, courtesy of Virgin Airlines.  He has met every single one of my friends and family members.  He has seen me at my best, and seen me at my worst.  He watched me graduate High School and College.  He saw my first dates, and my latest’s.  He was there through funerals and weddings.  The best part about having a pet such as a turtle is to be able to witness something which most people will never understand.  There is a mutual connection and understanding between the two of us that goes beyond spoken words.  He doesn’t judge me for what I choose to do or not do.  He doesn’t care what I wear, or what mistakes I make.  He doesn’t try to tell me what I should do with my life, or voice his opinions when I feel like sharing mine.

 There’s obviously a distinct possibility that this turtle doesn’t even recognize me on a day to day basis.  That being said, there’s also the possibility that he knows what he has done for me over the last 18 years of my life, and why should anyone strip him of that respect?  Sometimes the best thing a pet like Max can do for a person is fuel a sense of guidance, comfort, motivation, inspiration, or passion which cannot be obtained through other people.  Regardless of what has happened to me each day over the last 18 years, Max has been there.  That simple fact alone is reassuring for me every day, and he is able to remind me that no matter what happens, the simple fact of being here is a gift and is enough.  Here’s to you, Max.  The least I can do for you is praise you via my blog, and buy you some juicy worms for your birthday dinner.

Cheers, my old friend!
<3

White House Woes

The other day, Tim Thomas opted out of a team trip to the white house to be recognized for the accomplishments which he was very involved with: winning the Stanley Cup last spring.  With this decision, he has already received flak from what seems to be almost all New England media platforms, sports analysts, and every New Englander whose shallow perspective I get the displeasure of reading   through Facebook.  So with this as a hot topic, I’ve decided to touch upon a few things.

Everyone needs to stop pretending like his decision is affecting the teams’ political standing or affecting your life as if he is the new Governor of Massachusetts, and stop pretending that his decision is disrespectful to our Country.  By stating any of that, you are only fueling the reasons why he opted out, and making yourself look stupid because you’re forgetting the time that your parents told you to do what you want to do because this is a free Country.  Yes, believe it or not, even professional athletes have their own viewpoints and feelings towards the P word (that’s Politics, for those of you who are like me and also operate on a 5^th grade mental capacity most days).

How many people are NOT feeling a little angry towards the way our Government is screwing us over?  Thomas just showed us that not only the people who are struggling to make ends meet are upset with the way the Government is throwing around money, but the upper class as well.  It should be thought of as part of the wake-up call we are working on hitting Congress with, and people should embrace this action, not assume that he was being unconstitutional.

When celebrity-status people make statements such as this, it really shouldn’t be overlooked.  I’m not saying that Thomas is a God (though it is questionable, scientific studies have yet to determine his origin), but he is someone who definitely has his head on straight, and when he has something to say, people should be open-minded and listen, not just automatically scold him for his actions.

On Instrumentation

          A topic which you will likely read about a handful of times during my 52 week ranting will be music, which I have decided to explain a bit about this week.  I know that I have a personal attachment to music which supersedes most people’s appreciation, but I feel it is something that most people don’t realize can be more than just something they listen to at a bar or club, but an entire lifestyle and friendship bridge.

          When I first decided that I wanted to play an instrument, I was sitting in the garage at our cottage in Raymond, Maine with my brother Chris.  He was quickly becoming a guitar god, and I was merely a musically talentless dreamer, picturing myself rocking out to some tunes with him on a fictional drum set.  At that moment, I felt compelled to piece together a homemade set, and attempt to create something which sounded remotely like I was helping to keep the guitar playing on tempo (which my brother, still to this day, is surely superior at).  I placed two paddleball-esque paddles on top of two different sized buckets to create different tones, and used wooden ladles for “drum sticks”.  It was my first taste of what was to become an undying love for creating music.

          That Christmas, I received one of the most generous gifts my parents have ever graced me with – my first drum set.  I played EVERY day for months.  I was hooked.  I didn’t know the first thing about drums, but I had the motivation and passion to better my abilities.  I attempted to play along with songs that I loved, and it was that thought that I could actually create the sound which meant so much to me which kept me practicing, despite my constant failure.  I learned more and more, until finally I was ready for the next step: to play in a band.

          Our first band went by the name of “The Wrath of Michael Bolton”.  We were a cover band, and we LOVED it.  We practiced every week, and shared ideas and good conversation daily.  We played local concerts around Massachusetts, and it was an absolute thrill to perform on stage.  Over the next 5 years or so, my friends and I rotated through a couple of different local bands that we had created.  I next began another musical endeavor when my good friends’ band needed a bassist.  It was a completely different puzzle, though I picked it up fairly quickly (I attest that I had to practice for hours per day for a month).

Playing in a band was a way to share more and more time with my favorite and best friends.  It had become something that was huge to me, and was a release from the pressures and stresses of everyday life.  No matter what happened during the week or day, I still got to hang out with my friends and share the music we had come to create and love.  We wrote songs which meant the world to us, and got to express our love for them in every live concert we played.

Now that I have moved to California, I don’t have my drums or a bass with me.  My good friend Adam recently moved out here and brought my acoustic guitar (which I bought around the same time I began drumming, but never had the will power to overcome its impossible chords and tunings), which I have now devoted time each day to practice.  In only about a month and a half of practicing, there have already been drastic improvements.

No matter what your musical background is, or how much you convince yourself that you are not musically talented, you have it in you to create music with instruments.  It is a stress relief method which can only be experienced by those who attempt it, and a way to have a connection with friends that you can only understand through the music you create with them. 

Balance

During the holiday weekend, Kate and I took a nice walk on the 3^rd street Promenade in downtown Santa Monica, where we were immersed in the culture of a more well-off community.  It is truly amazing to be in a community where there is such a visibly skewed dispersal of money.  The town I come from (Shrewsbury, MA) is also an above-median household wage town, but visually, it would be difficult to tell that there is a large fluctuation of wealth throughout the town.  Here in Santa Monica, I observe the differences on a daily basis.

I found quickly that I was very much unfamiliar with basically all of the stores in the plaza.  They were clearly very high end designer stores that would make you think twice about entering, solely for fear of breaking something which would require a loan to repay.  Walking through the Promenade, we stopped for some delicious frozen yogurt, which seemed to be the only affordable place to find anything in the plaza.  To our surprise, we at last found a store which we recognized and felt half comfortable to explore: Nordstrom.  We discovered immediately that Nordstrom was also out of our league, as a disgusting blue sports coat (which literally looked as though it had been worn for a decade and graciously donated to Good Will, where a Nordstrom employee scavenged it and knighted it with a $500 price tag for shits and giggles) proved to up-end our hopes of finding anything within our budget.

A five minute walk from the promenade will bring you to the Santa Monica beach front and Pier, where homeless people are scattered throughout the grassy areas among the palm trees.  This type of difference in wealth is not noticeable in Shrewsbury, and I find it interesting to witness firsthand.  There are countless times where I have consciously watched people driving every imaginable type of new convertible and sports car past people who are walking their belongings in a shopping cart to their next sleeping destination.  This is by no means something I did not know occurred, but it is a lot more profound when you consciously experience it.  On the other hand, I will now explain why I never donate things to these homeless people.

A few weeks ago, my co-worker Tim donated much of his lunch food to a homeless man who was sleeping on a bench near to where we were enjoying our work break.  He suggested that I give my extra food to said homeless man.  I didn’t.   I understand that he is homeless, and probably doesn’t buy any of his provisions, but that does not mean that I should feel obligated to give the food which I worked hard to obtain to a man who is relaxing out in the sun and napping at noon.  Upon further conversation with the man the next day, Tim discovered that this man chose to be homeless and has been so for 30 years.  This leads me to an entirely different topic of why I feel so strongly against the workings of Social Security which this man will be able to suck from just for passing a certain age, but I will save that for a separate discussion…

                My point is that it is obvious that there are drastic differences between the wealthy and poor which need to be bridged, but it’s hard to know where to start when you see poor people who choose to live that way, and rich people who think the size of their penis will be directly proportional to the amount of money they spend on material items.  Where do we go from here?

A Quick Breath

Today marks the first of a new year, which has never been something I have been extremely excited about, but I do feel it is a good time to reflect on the years accomplishments and to explore some new ideas / goals / hobbies that you have always just “not had the time to do”.   For me it is mostly a time of nostalgic reflection; a good time to be thankful for all of the things I have done, people I have had the chance to meet, and the opportunity to experience new places and events.

Yesterday, Kate and I went for a nice bike ride through a canyon, which spills its trailhead not more than 5 miles from our apartment.  Though we were only able to explore for a few hours (pressed by daylight and a bike that disagreed with the idea of cooperation), we were able to get that fresh breath of air and solitude which I have come to appreciate more than almost anything else that this world has to offer – at least the offerings that I am at this state in time aware of.

If you are looking to find a new recreational pastime to lure you away from the almighty Facebook, know that a natural setting isolated from the pressures of everyday life, work, and social climates has an overwhelming ability to leave you begging to find the next utopian landscape, or to return to the same as often as you wish to check on your celebrity Tweets.

I speak from personal experience, obviously.  From my childhood, I recall the pure excitement of gathering our belongings and sustenance for an island camping trip from our pristine valley summer cabin in the remote town of Raymond, Maine.  The island was close - no more than an hour of canoeing would bring you to the destination from the cabin’s shoreline dock, but the excitement of the voyage was in full season.  This was probably the first time that I was consciously aware that such excitement could be brought from the isolation and exploration factor – despite the adventure being had only a quarter mile from the cabin.  Thus my initial yearning for the outdoors began.

I have since had the pleasure of exploring a number of amazing and seemingly untraveled areas of the globe, and dream of expanding those credentials every day.  This adventurous yearning and satisfaction is the feeling that people should be striving to experience, if they have not yet had such luck.  There is no greater feeling than that of connectedness and completeness with the natural world.  Admittedly, most people cannot stomach such adventure – cannot CHOOSE to stomach such adventure.  For those, I feel saddened that they are not able to see the true beauty and peace of mind it can bring – whether a shared or solo experience.

This year, attempt to get out of your town, house, room, apartment, etc. and find a place that submerses you in isolation from the things that you are accustomed to.  Leave your phone off.  Bring only what you need.  Bring a notebook and write down what you are feeling.  Try to find that feeling of adventure that only an adventure out of your complete comfort zone and routines can bring.  You will find that this will become something you will strive to bring in as a replacement daily routine – and a more fulfilling one at that.

I moved to Alaska the day before my official college graduation.  I had never been on a plane before in my life.  In fact, it was one of my biggest fears for 22 years.  The moment that my family vanished from view as I walked through customs at Logan Airport that day was a feeling that I will never forget, and that I will never try to explain with words.  I was lucky to have that feeling from an experience at such a young age.  I have cherished those types of moments and know the importance they hold, for I fear most people go through their lives without having such feelings bestowed upon them.

So go out and explore you backyard, a new job, new hobbies, new friends, new places, or question your thought process and ideals.  They are all different gateways to opening up a whole new world of feelings, thoughts, and viewpoints that you could be unfortunate to miss if you aren’t fortunate enough to explore.