MAMA MERMAID

Long days of sun and sea, dreaming of rainbow mermaid mamas nursing their wee ones to sleep on a bed of waves. We look for treasures among the tide pools and I'm blown away by mother nature's creations. I want to make headband and belts out of the perfect little shells-- I bet they would make beautiful music as I walked. Sand and sun and sea. Sand and sun and sea. <3 <3 <3

RED ROCKS AND SAGE BRUSH

Ever since our trip last fall to Moab, I've been dying to go back.  So last week, we put the roof tent on our car, packed up our stuff, and hit the road for a few days of adventure. Now that I'm six months pregnant, I know it might be awhile before we can do another road trip and this felt like a special farewell to our family of 3-- a honeymoon of sorts, before we welcome a new member into our tribe.

Moab was even more beautiful than I remember. The rock formations are breathtaking-- they seem like something from another planet-- a lost world. From there, we explored Canyonlands National Park, and finally Antelope Canyon in Page, AZ.

 

 Each place along our journey took my breath away. Like all the other tourists, I had my camera out most of the time, trying to capture the beauty and magic around me. And yet none of the pictures do justice to what I saw or felt. These lands vibrate with an ancient energy-- I feel closer to the earth here than I have in any other place I've been.

 

 

 

 

 

 

My mom always said that while in labor, she envisioned her family's mountain cabin to help transport her to a peaceful place. I imagine that with this birth, I'll call to mind visions of red rocks, rising above fields of sagebrush, and glowing canyons, awash in light.

JANUARY:: BLISS

 

 

 

 

I write this from our adobe house in the chilly mountains of NM, although in my mind, I'm still soaking up the 90 degree sunshine on the beach in Los Organos, Peru. We just got back after three weeks in Peru and my mind and body are still struggling to adjust to the cold temperatures and the accelerated rhythm of my life here.

Our trip to Peru was much shorter this year than usual-- three quick weeks of reconnecting with friends and family, stuffing ourselves with fresh sea food, soaking up the bright sun and turquoise sea, and releasing months worth of stress.

Fall was a rough season for me this year. My body was of put through hell during early pregnancy and my spirit sank to a dark, jagged place. The holidays and the second trimester brought some relief and joy, but I still felt a tight ball of fear and stress wound tightly in my stomach. It wasn't until I stepped onto the sandy beach our first night in Peru that I began to feel myself relax and release.

Over the three weeks of our trip, I  let go of all of the stress and worry that had dug so tightly into my being.  My to-do list disappeared. I didn't feel rushed or overwhelmed--two sensations that had become constant companions back in the states. I lay on the beach and watched my growing boy splash in the waves with his cousin. I sat on the porch swing late into the evenings and chatted with friends and family about daily life and deep matters of the heart. We watched sea turtles swimming in the tide and collected treasures on our daily walks along the beach. True bliss.

The more relaxed I became, the deeper into myself I was able to go. My creativity had been in hiding for months-- buried by the sickness and overwhelming fatigue of the first trimester and the craziness of the holidays. But slowly, images began to swim in my head again and I watched as they revealed themselves to me on paper. As I sketched and meditated and soaked up the sun, a feeling of joy and optimism began to flow through me. Grounded in the present, I was finally able to tap into my deeper self again and to set intentions for the coming year.

Back in New Mexico, I'm finding myself struggling to maintain the peace and bliss I found on our trip. My to-do list is already much longer than I care to think about and my spirit is mourning the sense of connectedness I felt in Peru. I miss the meals shared with friends around an outdoor table, the evenings spent watching my little one playing with neighborhood kids, and the sense of comfort I got from living in a house packed with family. I'm homesick for our other home.

I take deep breaths and hold in my mind images of crashing waves, palm trees, and sunshine, and focus on bringing to life the intentions I've set for this coming year. We'll be back in Peru in 10 short months-- with a new baby and plans for building our dream home. Until then, I'll be sinking myself into work here-- into growing our business and creating the life of my dreams.  Here's to bliss and peace-- found in each precious moment.

~in love and light~

ROAD TRIP PART II: FIRE

After two days in the snow, we left Telluride-- en route to visit an old friend of mine and her new baby daughter. We spent some time catching up and soaking up baby snuggles, and then hit the road again. I had been expecting to drive home and spend our last free day working on some projects around the house and catching up on bookkeeping. Instead, on a whim, we decided to drive to Moab, Utah and Arches National Park. 

As we drove down from the mountains, the views began to take my breath away. I was glued to the window-- watching as incredible rock formations rose out the plains. W got to Moab at 4:30 and spent the afternoon driving and walking around the park-- completely in awe of the landscape around us. I could have spent hours exploring, climbing, and meditating, but the sun was beginning to set, and Tai was rapidly headed towards a meltdown. We drove out of the park slowly, watching a half moon rise above the rocks as the sun set on the horizon, and headed out on the adventure of finding food and a room for the night. We'd hoped to get back to the park in the morning, but by the time we woke and packed, it was time to hit the road and head home.

It felt good to be in a new, "foreign" place, even if it was only one state away from home.  It's been awhile--- far too long--- since we traveled with no route and no itinerary. I know that I'm to blame- far too often I let my uptight, type-A-self dominate my free-spirited, adventurous self. I always come up with reasons for why the trips I daydream about are a bad idea: we have a very active toddler who doesn't like the car, we're on a pretty tight budget, we should be saving for x,y, and z instead...... But I know that if I can push through those fears, incredible adventures await. True--we spent more money than I wanted to on this trip, Tai had some less-than-glorious moments in the car, and Alexis and I lost our patience more than once. But we also got to spend time as a family in one of the most beautiful places on earth. I got to feel wild and free and alive in a way that I haven't in awhile. 

We'll be back to Moab. And we've started planning a winter trip to Hawaii. Alexis and I have always wanted to go- and now it's time to let go of my sensible excuses and make it happen!

ROAD TRIP PART I: ICE

Last week, Alexis and I decided we'd take a few days off and take a mini road trip up to my family's cabin outside of Telluride. The cabin itself is super old and on the verge of falling down, but the area around it is a breathtaking expanse of meadows, pine trees, aspen groves, and alpine peaks.

To our surprise, we arrived to a foot of snow covering everything. The weather had been colder as we drove up to Colorado, with snow covering some of the forests, but I wasn't expecting to step into a scene from mid-January.

Luckily, we'd come prepared with lots of jackets, firewood, and hot cocoa mix. I spent most of the time inside "tending" to the fire in the wood stove (sketching, drinking cocoa, and devouring the book "Wild") while Tai and Alexis played in the snow. As much as I dislike the cold, it was fun to have a little winter adventure-- especially since I knew we'd be returning to fall weather after a few days. The aspens were caught of guard by the snow as well-- they were still golden yellow and looked incredible against the white snow and dark blue mountains. 

We slept curled up on an air mattress in front of the wood stove, under piles of down sleeping bags and comforters. My breath was visible inside as I stood over the cookstove in the morning, heating water for coffee.  And despite two layers of thick wool socks and snug boots,  my toes were blocks of ice the entire time.

WANDERLUST PART II

The wanderlust I wrote about a few weeks back hasn't left me. If anything, it's getting stronger. I love summer here in New Mexico, but as it fades, I find myself instinctively looking to follow the sun. For years, Alexis and I bounced from one warm place to the next. When the cold or rainy season came near, we'd simply hop on a bus and head closer to the equator.

We chased the sun for five wonderful years. During that time, I didn't know seasons. We'd be high in the Andes one day and hundreds of miles away on a beach 24 hours later. I came home to the snow for a couple of weeks at Christmas-- just long enough to enjoy the holidays, not so long that I'd fall into my winter funk.

But now that we find ourselves more settled, my spirit is stirring for travel. Warmth. Colorful markets in cities far from here. It's a desire that borders on obsession-- I find myself locked to my laptop screen, willing myself into Pinterest photos of markets in India and Morocco, beaches in Colombia and Brazil.

 With the intensity of caring for an infant/baby, I escaped these feelings for the first two years of our "settling". But now that Tai is three and more independent, I feel the need to travel again. As we slowly build ourselves the American dream, my soul rebels against it. I fight between wanting security for my little family, and wanting freedom for my curious spirit. It's not a new fight for me...but it feels stronger now.

Back to Pinterest for me...I have some cyber travel to do. :)

WANDERLUST

I'm missing Peru today, missing travel, missing our nomadic life. The kind of missing that aches somewhere deep in my belly and makes my head swirl with images and memories-- beach scenes in front of my eyes as I do the dishes, visions of Lima's traffic, blurring out the pictures in the book I read to Tai.

Most days I am content here in our settled little life. More than content-- I am at peace. But sometimes, like today, the wind stirs up something inside of me and I long to be on the road again.

Wanting to be here and there is nothing new. For almost a decade now, this pull and tug has been a constant feeling. During the years I was traveling in South America, a corner of my heart always longed to be at home, with my family. And now that we're here, in a home of our own, close to family and friends, my heart rattles and stirs to be on the road again. I'm equal parts homebody and travel-bum, meaning I never seem to be entirely settled, on the road nor at home.

I try to remind myself that traveling wasn't always great, in an attempt to cool the longing. Now that there are years of distance between that life and this, it's easy to romanticize our nomadic life. But there were hungry times. Scary times. Times I longed for stability and security and a hot bath.  Money was tight and we always seemed to be boarding a bus for another 18 hour ride somewhere (I do NOT miss the bus rides...)

I've learned to accept the pull and tug, to breathe through the feelings of wanderlust that make me want to pack our bags, throw caution to the wind, and hit the road.

This too shall pass. I will find peace and contentment in the rhythms of home again, and in a few months, we'll be off to Peru, to fill up our hearts with travel and adventure.

(Alexis took this picture of me on our first day in Venezuela, back in 2007. We'd been traveling for days, and just out of the frame of the picture is all of our gear that we'd be hauling around-- backpacks, jewelry racks, a didgeridoo, and a unicycle. We knew no one in Venezuela, had no idea where we were going to sleep, and hadn't had a solid meal in far too long. But despite all of this, we were ecstatic to be on a gorgeous beach in a new land (I know I don't look that excited in the picture...)  And in the end it all worked out-- we found a great house with very colorful housemates and spent a few lovely months selling jewelry on this gorgeous island.)

ROAD TRIP

This weekend we took a little road trip up North, to my family's cabin outside of Telluride, CO. The drive took us through one of my favorite parts of New Mexico. Vast expanses of red desert stretch out on all sides, with the most incredible rock structures standing guard.

I feel such a strong connection to this desert land-- as though I am part of it, I belong to it. It's comforting to feel so at home here-- after many years of traveling in search of "exotic" new places, I can finally see the incredible beauty that rests in my own backyard. 

We camped outside, next to my family's ancient mining cabin (which provided a lovely refuge from chilly rain showers.) Tai was in love with the tent and spent hours jumping around on the air mattress and rolling himself up in a pile of sleeping bags. Alexis and I gazed out the window at the breathtaking view of the mountain and enjoyed the sweet family time. (Our awesome tent came from the dumpster outside of REI after one of their Scratch 'n Dent sales-- huge score!!)

Our days were deliciously long-- a lovely mix of hiking and exploring, and waiting out the chilly mountain rains around cups of coffee and stories by the woodstove. 

I took all my art supplies with the plan of turning out some new headbands and paintings, but the mountains and downtime with family were too enticing to resist. Instead of being productive and creative, I simply soaked up the fresh air and hours of cuddle time in our tent. Now, back to work! :)

Peru, Part 2- Cusco

Cusco, the historical capital of the Inca Empire, is one of the most visited cities in Peru and the gateway to Machu Picchu. The city is maze of winding cobblestone streets and ancient rock walls, pieced perfectly together without the use of mortar—strong enough to withstand more than 500 years of history.

Cusco is known as the bellybutton of the universe by the native Quechua . It was once the center of the Inca Empire and considered the connection to the womb of the Pachamama—the mother earth.

A three hour train ride from Cusco brings you to the lost city of Machu Picchu.

Standing almost 8,000 ft above sea level, surrounded by lush mountain forest, Machu Picchu appears like a scene from a dream. Clouds settle on the surrounding peaks, light streams through windows in majestic rock walls, and llamas graze on vibrant green grass. Once a bustling civilization, Machu Picchu now lays in rest, guarding secrets from ancient times.

Here, one feels a connection to the natural forces of the universe. Each wall and building of Machu Picchu was carefully constructed in relation to the cycles of the sun, moon, and stars. Rocks were painstakingly cut to fit tightly together—some so perfectly that it’s impossible to slip even a blade of grass between the two stones. There is magic and mystery in this space and it pulls you in with impressive force.
                    

A trip to Peru is a journey into ancient worlds, lost civilizations, and vibrant culture. Thank you for coming on this journey with me…I hope that one day each of you will meet this country with your own eyes. 

(And a big thank you to Lisa Landolino, for many of these pictures.)

Journey to Peru, Part 1

This post originally appeared over at the Bohemian Collective, but I thought I'd share it here as well. It's cold and gloomy outside to today, and my wanderlust has me thinking of (warm!) far away places.

I’d like to take you on a journey with me, to a place that is dear to my heart…..

Peru is a country of warmth and color. The food is spicy, the people friendly, the scenery breathtaking.

A cross-country trip will take you from glaciers high in the Andes to astounding expanses of desert, from the colorful Amazon jungle to sandy beaches dotted with palm trees. Here in Peru, ancient history and indigenous culture rub shoulders with modern cities and the metropolis of Lima.

There are fifty one different indigenous peoples in Peru and the country’s history dates back thousands of years. Incan and pre-Incan ruins can still be found just outside many of the major cities and the land seems to vibrate with ancient energy.

Deep in the jungle and high in the Andes, the indigenous communities continue to live close to the land, in harmony with nature. Art, ceremony, medicine, and healing practices all are rooted in a deep respect for the Pachamama…our mother earth. Shamans and healers from many of Peru’s indigenous communities use plant medicines (such as Ayahuasca and San Pedro), vision work, and other ancient practices to heal heart, body, and spirit.

Despite its rich culture and history, Peru struggles with poverty, pollution, and deforestation. The indigenous people constantly fight against the mining, gas, and forestry companies to keep their land, resources, and way of life.

My own history with Peru began when I traveled to Latin America at the age of 18.  7,000 feet in the Andes, I found myself falling in love—with a culture, a country, and a man who would later become my husband. I’m grateful to consider Peru my second home and to have the opportunity to spend time there each year. The country and its people have opened my heart and taught me some of the deepest life lessons……