Airship Challenge

The floor was lava, but now we're on an airship. It's windy and you can almost feel the engines of our airship whirring as we take off over a beautiful cliffside, one that overlooks sparkling blue water and white fluffy clouds on a perfect sunny day. 

For a while I forget that I'm at the playground. The nearby Pointe-Aux-Barques lighthouse is whimsically welcomed into the scenery and it further proves to my son's imagination that we are in an air fortress somewhere near the edge of the sky. I have this funny little thought to entertain that airships must be quite cold and windy all the time, even on short voyages. 

We take off and land in various locations while pausing only to fly our gliders (kites) through the gusty winds over Lake Huron. At some point I look to my wife and say that this is such a perfect day, and somewhere in that factuality we both came to the same conclusion that it's time for us to pack the van and head out west. There is much more to this story..

Medicine Wheel.

Magic Bug

When I was a child, I had an imaginary friend named Magic Bug. In my mind he looked strikingly similar to the Cheerio's bee, but for whatever reason only I could see him. We used to make soup together.

My grandparents had a decently sized bay window in their living room where I would sit watching little dust particles dance in the sunlight, the ones that only little kids can see. I used to gather them and make soup, for whatever reason (I was like four years old), but I needed a helper. That's where Magic Bug came in.

My imaginary friend came on long road trips with me. Back when my feet couldn't reach all the way, Magic Bug would help me make our cosmic soup on the floor of the car in the backseat. I remember the beams of light shining through the window when the sun was setting. It was always full of fairy dust, one of the key ingredients in our soup. One of the other main ingredients was rainwater, but we didn't get to make that soup during every car ride. However, when we did, the trick was to catch droplets of rain gathering on the window with your hand (reaching out and pretending, not actually touching the window) before the windshield wiper blades take them away and push them into oblivion. Sometimes they changed colors when we passed under traffic lights, red and green, and from the right angle you can even see the reflections of brake lights.

Mom and Dad are driving in the front and I'm watching the light make funny looking shapes around the interior of the car. I'm not alone. I have my friend Magic Bug and tonight we are making soup.

I also had a bike named Salad, but that's a different story.

Module 9

There is quite a bit that I should be doing right now. The house is dirty and we're going up north soon. The garage is dirty and my friends are coming over tonight. I have a lot of end of the term work to do at school, but it's fine. I just felt like writing. 

I'm onto something, I know that much is true. As I write this, I begin to wonder if that 'something' is a great adventure coming soon. I'm starting to see those opportunities arise, and once again I'm hearing that whisper in my ear that begs me to wander off to faraway places. It's familiar, catlike, temporary if you're not attentive.

Sometimes I find myself drifting into memories of the past. I was really hoping that wasn't something I would indulge myself in until I was much older, but I've had a lot of experiences just as anyone else has. They replay themselves to me sometimes, and it's tempting to miss those days. I don't though. Truly. I'm just starting to realize that I must see the world all over again through my son's eyes, and I don't want to miss a thing.

Where are we going next? Let's start up in the thumb of Michigan where we own a small property in a town called Port Hope. We love that place. Salem is going up to stay with Grandma and watch a parade of trucks Saturday morning, and we should be up there by evening or the next morning. That's a good start. Maybe we'll hit mid-Michigan followed by the north for a while and afterwards we can visit some friends on the way back to our hometown. Writing this out really brings the simplicity of my life these days to the surface, but I love it. I'm actually incredibly excited to spend some time on the road with my family and I even have a plan to take Salem up to Brad and Jolie's place alone next month. That's going to be a wonderful experience.

This is what I want, and it makes sense to me upon this new chapter of life. It's crazy to say, but it's better than wandering Madagascar or backpacking in the Middle East. I'm cosmically connected to a brand new adventurer and my own travels don't even appeal to me should he not be included. I love it. I'm so absolutely happy that it scares me sometimes. For now, I'm living a life of attendance and gratitude. I can only wonder if someday I'll be able to show Salem the worlds of our neighboring countries near and far. I'd sure love to.

Port Hope

I'm still staring at my computer and it's just about 3:30 on a Wednesday. I've been grading papers all day in the kitchen of our up north trailer while my son runs around acting like a dinosaur. Well, he's sleeping at the moment, but I'm still at it staring at this screen. Lately I've been thinking of trying to spend less time in front of screens.

My wife is beautiful. Look at her, across the table from me, looking out the window. I think she's brainstorming some new ideas for her candle and soap company. We were talking about investing in some land soon. That always comes up when we're out here in Port Hope. 

Maybe this is a 'life is good' post. Life is pretty stinking good. Yet, I buried my father's ashes a few hours ago under a memorial marker near our front porch, and I've been feeling quite surreal ever since. My mom is pretty torn apart and even she can't hide it. She tries though. She spends as much time with Salem as she can and I don't even know how we would have gotten through this without him.

One of my students just got his F-1 Visa to come study in the USA. I'm pretty excited for him. It's a massive sense of accomplishment for both of us.

I guess I can sit back and relax now. I'm working on that. Life is better when it feels like I'm narrating my own adventure, and it feels just like that right now. Yesterday I woke up at 5:25 in the morning to watch the sun from underwater. It was 47 degrees below the surface. The sun looked a very strange red without changing the color of any nearby clouds, they just stayed grey.

BUS 310 UANL

 

Afrobeat

Afrobeat inspires me to write. So does the wind that has taken control of my front door. I'm off to Mexico tomorrow morning on a very early flight, and I'm enjoying these much appreciated short trips out of the country. I'm equally appreciative of the people who helped me get this position at the university, and I'm really excited about future opportunities to work and travel.

Can you tell I just wrote an email to my boss? 

When I listen to afrobeat I'm reminded of college, specifically those days in the Trumbull house. When we first moved into that place we used to have epic drum circles just to embrace our newfound sense of freedom. You see, we used to get in trouble for that kind of thing at the Belcrest (Sid mostly). If you understood either of those places, then we are old friends and I love you. 

It feels like college but it also feels like that excitement before travel. In college I was working hard just to get through, I wasn't even sure I wanted to go to college in the first place, yet I finished with a degree in elementary education and English, and it was my ticket into the US Peace Corps. That's where this all began, this lust for wandering. Suddenly I feel quite rejuvenated just thinking about how much I like traveling the world. Maybe that's what is waking back up inside of me, something sure has. 

My Kitchen on a Monday

I really want to sit down with this post and put some thought into it. I'm in a very surreal mood, and even looking around my kitchen feels like I'm in a book or a game or something. It might be a strange moment to capture, but this is my moment and I like looking back on days like this. I'm in a weird state of pleasant uncertainty, maybe a form that I was once very accustomed to. 

I remember the days of traveling when I didn't know where I would end up or what I was getting myself into. I saw it as a goal, and my only ambition was to leave, never to actually get anywhere. Traveling has strange coincidences and idiosyncrasies around every corner. My life was once centered around traveling, and I used to hit these dark lows when I was unsure about future plans. 

There was a time that I was terrified to join the Peace Corps, not because I was afraid of being away from home, but because I thought it would never actually happen to me. I clearly remember listening to Fela Kuti in my room and feeling the struggle in his voice. I applied it to my life, although it seems so unbalanced to compare his and my experiences of life. I wanted to leave so bad, but I was failing math, and in a peculiar relationship with a very nice person. I wanted to be destructive of self (I eventually became self-destructive, which is something totally different). I wanted out.

So, this room feels surreal. As it turns out, I really like being domestic, and I'm even pausing in the middle of cleaning my house to write this. I'm happy, and I don't feel like being afraid of losing that happiness. Things have always come around for me, and perhaps with some patience I can be optimistic about this next chapter as well. Do I want to get out and travel the world again? That is still a question I can't answer at this time. I've experienced many lifetimes of travel, and for that I am eternally grateful. But, will I ever get out there again? I really don't know.