i agree with tim's previous post

We're enjoying the road at the same time as missing the roots. I described it to a friend the other day by saying that when we left on this trip, I imagined us as seeds. We were taking to the wind, waiting to find where we can grow. My little seedling self looks down sometimes and says, "All this air stuff is great, but to really grow I need to put some roots down." I hope when I feel like a tree I won't feel like I want to be the bird landing on me to fly away. Ah, the human condition of discontent.

But after saying that, as I struggled through another set of morning pages the other day (not sure what I'm doing with those, but I'm doing them as I planned...) I was asking myself the question of time yet again and how to fit everything in that we want out of life. A sweet delayed awakening in bed and then yoga, a walks, morning pages, a good breakfast...all before 10? Jobs, family, friends, kids if you want them, pets, "serious" writing, garden, meals, the administrative pieces of life, recreation and daydreaming, la la la la, the list goes on...how is there time for it all? I've asked myself and other people this so much and all the answers have been unsatisfying. You have to make the time/take the time...the things that you value will take up your time...

But what if there's not enough time? And then I thought something a little different. What if there's plenty of time, except the way that we've divided up our lives into boxes in this postmodern age has made time a resource, and a scarce one at that. What if compartmentalizing all these pieces of life instead of having them be interconnected, fulfilling many at once and without the effort of trying for it, has made our lives as hectic as they are? Compounded by our growing desires to have more, see more, do more, experience more, it seems like we're doing less and enjoying it less.

Someone the other day asked me if after this trip we were going to go and do it in Europe or other places. I immediately thought to myself, "Oh, yes!" And then beyond the excitement of seeing a new continent, heard all the voices in my head that have told me over the years that you haven't made it until you've traveled globally, you haven't seen anything, you have a small life, you have no stories, you don't have good experiences, you are not sophisticated, you are a sheltered and hopelessly naive person if you haven't seen Paris, London, Bulgaria, Taiwan, Hong Kong, Turkey, blah blah blah. But how is this travel lust any different from the conspicuous consumption of electronics or purses or shoes or cars? Or what about the conspicuous consumption of experiences? I can't tell you how many other travelers I've seen on this trip jump out of their cars, take a quick picture, and then head out. You may have the photo to prove you've looked at an amazing thing, but I don't believe you can see it that way, experience it, take it in. How many beautiful things can you look at in quick succession before they lose their awe, their poetry?

I'm so glad we cut back on all the places we were going to make sure that we "saw" on this trip. I'm so glad we did it early on.

Now that I have all that vomit out, I have 10 minutes left on this public computer and I haven't even gotten to get on my tirade about the combination of overregulation, irresponsibility, and capitalist conspiracies to get travelers to spend money that have spawned the ubiquitous "no overnight parking," and "fee areas." Another day.

Hope you enjoyed some of the pictures of the poetry we've seen here on the Oregon coast amidst my ranting.