"Where do you live?"

 

...is the question we get asked most often, along with its cousin, "Where are you from?"

"We were living in Santa Cruz before we became nomads," we sometimes say.

Or:
"Half the year in Mexico, half traveling."

In a way, wherever we are at the moment is where we live.

When we set out two years ago to live this version of life, we weren't totally sure what it would look like. That's still the case. We make some plans, the days unfold, and eventually the dark road ahead gets illuminated with our headlights.

Since we left our little casita in Mexico in April, we've spent the night in about twenty different beds, living wherever we are.

When I look at what we've been focusing on, I can see what our priorities are.

Family and friends



Meeting Miles for the first time, in L.A.

The boys help Uncle Dave blow out his birthday candles.

Visiting my 91-year-old piano playing Aunt Ruby.

Lunch with my cousins in the Bay Area, cooked by my chef cousin Clay.

Hiking in Tahoe with Candis, Rob, and Holly.

Sister Sue and bro-in-law Dan.

My niece Hailey's 8th grade graduation.
 

A few days with Lee in Sebastopol.




Kari, shocked by my book.

We met up with a lot of Dave's buddies, like Sango, at High Sierra Music Festival.




Music festival clan!

Activities



Watching Dave's college buddy's son playing first base, in Nor Cal.

Hiking in San Francisco's McLaren Park.



Tahoe, on a friend's boat.
 




Rafting on the American River with Candis and Laura as our guides.

Animals

Run, Lola, Run! Lee's pup.

A little love from Marge, our charge in Santa Cruz during a housesit.

Maya. We took care of her during a Berkeley housesit.



My cousin Jennifer's cat, Posey, named after the SF Giants' gem of a catcher.

Dave captured these pelicans in Santa Cruz.

 Music

 

Bonnie Raitt in Santa Cruz

 

Ike & Martin, Tahoe

 

 

Roseville Moose Lodge...these young women did a killer "Me & Bobby McGee"!

 

 

 

Hot Buttered Rum in Santa Cruz

 

The Nibblers at High Sierra Music Festival, Quincy, California.

 

Robert Randolph

String Cheese Incident...my highlight.

 

The Waifs

California Honeydrops
 

And best of all: making our own music around the fire pit in So Cal.

 

How about not "Where do you live" but "What do you love?"

 

Thank You for Everything, Tahoe

Once again, the end of an era nears. After four months in Tahoe, we leave soon. That's the life of nomads: embracing change.

Even though it's the end of April, this morning looked like this:

 And it's still coming down. Who knew we'd be gifted a few more ski days?

During our time on the west shore, I finished the first draft of my memoir. It's tentatively titled The Footholds Will Appear: An Odyssey of Love, Sex, Spirit and Travel.

The title comes from these lyrics by Hot Buttered Rum, words about trusting in the journey:


We could fall away from here 
But I have faith that the footholds will appear…


Speaking of that band, they played a free show at a local ski resort. We danced for hours in the fresh air with our friends.

Those friends were among many visitors who have come to stay with us. We had a blast teaching our friends' kids how to ski.

Dave and Johnny

I became fast friends with eight-year-old Olivia. We skied together, and she drew a charming array of pictures of me involved in a zillion different activities! Although if you look closely, you can also see one of Dave swimming with dolphins.

In addition to lots of skiing...

Steve

Scott and Nikki

Kelly & Terry

Elise, Steph, Nevin & Daddy

 ...everyone enjoyed the hot tub...

...and walks in the forest and along the lake.

Mel and me

Nevin, Lilly & Jimmy

Dave demonstrating the fine art of rock skipping.

Several times, we took the hike up to Eagle Rock. It was a great family adventure.

K-Shak family from So Cal

MO-minksys, also from So Cal

In Tahoe I've also been coaching writers online. After years of being a writing teacher, I'm especially enjoying giving feedback without grades!

One of my clients is a doctor. She has a great way with juicy details. Nothing like time in a hospital to gather great material. Recently she wrote this to me:

I appreciate your kindness in delivering constructive tips. I think I was a bit terrified to open the files and read your response. In fact, it turned about to be enjoyable and totally pain-free! I found myself comfortable hearing your advice and even wanting more! The suggestions are fantastic and leave me with much to think about and practice.

I smiled over the idea that someone who regularly deals with life and death situations had been "a bit terrified" about my feedback! I think that means she cares a lot about writing. It's a pleasure to work with her. I'm certain her work will be in book form in your hands one day.

I'm sure mine will be too--hopefully by next year. Soon I will be sending out my manuscript to five writer friends. I know they will all give me great tips for revision. For at least a month, I won't look at the book so I can come back to it with fresh eyes.

In the meantime, I will cherish these last days in the mountains. Next up: California, Hawaii and Utah National Parks. Keep shining your light, everyone!

with Lola

Going Homeless

Make a home for yourself inside your own head.  You'll find what you need to furnish it--memory, friends, love of learning, and other such things.  That way it will go with you wherever you journey. - Tad Williams


In two months, we will be homeless.  Voluntarily.

In two months, we are going to put all of our stuff in storage and live for at least a year without a home.

Walking Santa Cruz beaches is a divine experience.

Or, I should say, a house.  We’ll never be without a home.  Home isn’t a dwelling.  Home is where your heart is, as they say.  It’s, as Helen Rowland says, “any four walls that enclose the right person.”

Apparently Dave and I are the right person.  

What has prompted our decision is this:  the condo we rent is going up for sale.  

When we got the news, a zillion possibilities flew through my mind:  We could try to find a way to buy a place right now.  We could immediately rent another place.  But would that be in our beloved Santa Cruz?  After all, I’m retiring in May.  We could live anywhere.  Where to set down our roots?  Do we need to set down our roots?

Funny how the mind works.  We were in the car, driving up to Tahoe, when we got the call.   We weren’t especially surprised.  Our lease is up, and we knew the place had been on the market before we moved in.  We were okay with whatever was to come.

But still, suddenly it felt like my skin didn’t fit quite right.  My mind went on overdrive.  A mass of mixed feeling swept through me.  I felt dizzy.  A little sad.  A tinge of scared.  Nostalgic for our lovely little redwood pad, nicknamed The Love Nest, that’s so close to our favorite beach.  I suddenly got all clingy. 

I forgot for a moment that every single time big change has occurred in my life, it has led to something even more amazing.  Something I couldn’t have imagined before.  Some huge expansion of what life can be.

Road to Tahoe

It was the perfect time to get the news.  We were in the car, with nothing to do but watch the road unfold beneath the crystalline blue sky.  We began to talk.  We played with possible scenarios, from moving in with a friend who wants to start a communal living situation, to moving down south, to traveling.  As we explored the possibilities, I paid close attention to my feelings.  When we touched on something that made me feel good, that piqued my excitement just a little, I lingered there.  Milked it.  Folded and unfolded it like an elaborate origami.

It’s no secret that Dave and I love to travel.  That we love to spend extended time in places to experience versions of life.  That we love to dive deeply into our relationships with friends by spending time together.  That we love to meet new people. 

A recent adventure took us to Grand Turk

And in the three-plus years we’ve been together, each journey seems to take us to a deeper level.  Each trip extends our sense of what it means to move through the world.  It’s as though travel has become not a hobby, not separate from the “real world.”  We're now taking literally the notion that life is a journey.  Each trip, each travel adventure, is life.

As Dave says, this moment is what we’ve been training for.  In some ways, this feels like the next logical step.  Not homeless but house-free.  Taking home with us wherever we go on our journey.

We met Widi and Karen in Alaska, and plan to visit them in Chennai, India.

So in two months we will be off exploring the world.  On the possible agenda are:  

·     places we’ve never been where friends have invited us to come stay (Australia, India, Hong Kong)

·     places we’ve always wanted to go (Paris, Amsterdam, Santorini, Corfu)

·     a place where we can spend a full winter in the snow (Tahoe or Utah)

·     places we know well and would love to hang out in because we have friends and family who live there (Hawaii, L.A., San Diego, Cape Cod).

As we talked in the car, we enjoyed being enveloped in creative possibilities.  I felt a kind of nervous excitement—like you feel on a roller coaster—sweep through me.  So then it felt like time just sit back, let it all soak in, and watch the road unfold.  We put on some music, and the song “Something New” by Hot Buttered Rum filled the car:

"We could fall away from here
But I have faith that the footholds will appear…

There’s not a force in this world, any place any time,

like the human soul on fire.”