Cleanup

I love writing and wish to do it daily. However, not all things need to be shared. Writing helps me process, gain introspection.

There is a question of vulnerability and the concept of being vulnerable to those who are close to you. It’s a finite resource, and I’ve yet to find a balance of what I wish to accomplish in private, and the stories that I want to share publicly.

I have plenty of stories and experiences to share; I want the ones I share to be positive or ones of growth.


Fly me to the moon

The local airport had an open house. Airplane rides, Huey, food, and socialization. Lola has never been on an airplane before, it was time to fix that.

Amanda climbed into the copilot seat, mom and Lola climbed in the back of the four-seater Cessna.


A just discovered favorite from the Pacific Coast

No matter where we go, what we do, I find myself in love with life, my partner, our little family.

Time in the country

We packed up and headed to pick up Lola from school then headed to the farm. The trip was mostly uneventful and relaxing, I remember when I was a child and my step-father picked me up from 5th grade with our motorcycles in the back of the truck; it made me feel special.

Lola and Luke

We grilled up vegan “Toasted Cheese” as Jade calls them and enjoyed dinner with my family. Jade and I headed to the video store to pickup some movies for her Guard sleepover. Amanda and I finished out the evening watching Zombieland.

Tomorrow the Fall Party is scheduled. There may not be that that much of a turnout due to some concert this weekend but I’m sure we will enjoy the bonfire, family time, and getting away from the norm all the same.


Family ❤

Life is good.

Salt Lake & Indiana Days 6 & 7 – Anxiety, Nausea, and the feeling of Home

The second the airplane tires hit the ground in Indianapolis we cheered, “We are home!”


Let’s do a recap of the bad first so that I can end on a high note. Turbulence coming into Salt Lake City (SLC) Airport fucking sucked. We were in a holding pattern and looped a few times with 50MPH wind gusts. The wings of the airplane (and our stomachs) were flapping around, some gasps from the other passengers.

I dug in, braced my body and meditated, thought about being on top of a rock. I dug my thigh into the aisle armrest and concentrated on the pain as a grounding point. I could feel my heart trying to jump out of my chest. I continued to hold it together, not vomit or panic (but thought on the edge of such). This went on for what seemed to be forever until we finally hit the ground, controlling my breathing and doing such from my diaphragm.

Amanda (who loves rollercoasters) was rather sick herself from the motion. She comments that we would rent a car and drive 12 hours home if she would have vomited.

Upon boarding the next airplane, I panicked and tried convincing myself,  Amanda to rent a car for the rest of the journey. She was supportive and asked what she could do. Once we passed the threshold and boarded the plane, I relaxed and didn’t give myself a way out. I was doing this, the power to be miserable, or enjoy the flight was my choice, my perception.

Once we were in the air, I returned to my normal flight postures. We watched a movie, I spent some time gazing out the window (dusk 30,000 feet up is beautiful), and the air was perfectly smooth the rest of the way home.


Here’s the self-analysis and takeaways.

  • Driving home would have sucked (and be more dangerous than just flying the last three-hour stretch). It would have been 12 hours overnight. I would have regretted driving.
  • I suffer from motion sickness and would have benefited from medication for such. I had such medicine on me but did not take it as:
    • I’ve never taken it before and don’t like taking medication unless I do so first in a controlled environment (like home).
    • The turbulence started suddenly and ended within 15 minutes. The medication may not have begun working in time.
    • It would be beneficial to try it first at home, then use it as a tool to manage such sensations as a preventive measure next time I fly.
  • The anxiety was centered around the sensation of nausea, and my paranoia of vomiting. The same feelings are duplicated by the “Rocking ship” (everyday fair ride), and the centrifuge (space mountain, Disney).
  • Exposure to further nausea stimulus would help normalize the experience for me, just as being a passenger in a motor vehicle has over the last few years. I’ve known pilots who sit and spin in a chair to reduce dizziness by becoming exposed, and comfortable to it.

I am proud of myself. I managed the anxiety well and used my tools such as deep breathing and meditation to center myself and not allow the physical sensations to become a recursive mechanism to a full-blown panic attack. I recovered quickly and prepared myself for the next flight; then didn’t give myself a way out past the point of no return.

And I think that overall, I’ve concentrated and led myself to believe that these experiences (over the past week) are seeds which will grow within me. That the more I do, the more I can do. That all experiences, all emotions can lead to growth, or at the least, we have the lenses to choose how we perceive them.

I can be better here; I can be more patient there. I can express kindness when feeling like this, or like that. I can show that I need some time alone now, or then. I can rally and push myself out into something unknown or uncomfortable then, or there. I can appreciate this experience, that one; I can be appreciative of all these experiences.

My body is doing this, or that. Here’s a new sensation, here’s one that’s usually scary, here’s one that is generally warm. Can we observe these sensations from a place of non-judgemental curiosity? What’s the root emotion here? Where does this come from?

Wanting nothing, and appreciating everything. Choosing to see the good aspects of humanity around us. Talking to someone in the airport which seems nervous; asking them their name and about their life. Smiling in the airport, while boarding and carrying love in your bones for others. Wishing people good weekends and giving your eye contact. These things are grounding.


I feel the whole experience away from home, across the country seeded much growth in me. Everytime that I’m anxious, I look back at all the things I’ve done in my life, all that I’ve overcome; and now I have this experience as the benchmark until the next one. You never quite know how strong you are, until being strong is the only option, and I keep looking forward to more opportunities.

And the next time someone asks me to fly with them? Certainly, if I can sit next to you and hold your hand.

Portland: Day 5 – Wrapping Up

Breaktaking nature, Feminism, Veganism, Activism, Acceptance, Art, and Individuality bleeds from Portland. I haven’t eaten a single animal product, spare a Carl Jr’s run a few days ago for a burger (and the grease wasn’t good on my plant filled stomach).

I will miss the rolling plains, mountains, and the Pacific Northwest Coastline most of all upon returning home. There is something very appealing about sitting with a warm tea and watching the waves smash into the rocks, the cold ocean spray, the seagulls. It’s unlike any coastline I’ve been to.

 

Every store, restaurant, publicly owned museum, just everything pounds acceptance, acceptance, acceptance into your head. Everywhere recycles and most all compost. More often than not people will go out of your way on the roads to allow you to merge, pull out; friendly faces behind the wheel. People stop and turn back around in public to ask if you are okay, people want to start conversations. The eye contact, the vulnerability.

It’s the curvy roads with elevation that makes your ears pop, the expanses of rolling terrain with mist whispering over the treetops. It’s the seagulls, the rocky shorefronts. Clam Chowder soup and Earl Grey tea. The trees, oh so many trees. Parks and trails that take your breath away from the physical exertion of walking them (bring an inhaler).

And it was noticing a trans person in the Men’s restroom at the airport without any concern in the world the moment I hopped off the plane at PDX.

And the Weed. It’s everywhere. I haven’t gotten high since High School and I’m perfectly content with that, but I’d rather hang out with a stoner than an Alcoholic any day.


My advise:

  • If you don’t like to be around weed, feminism, trans people, liberal types, make fun of Veganism, and so on, don’t go to Portland.
  • Budget for food. Most breakfast/lunches are $35-$50 for two and you’ll want to eat out often due to the variety (and food trucks).
  • Renting a car and driving is perfectly doable if you stay away from downtown, but note that driving here is rather technical versus your usual flat land, straight road that goes on forever (with good visibility) in Indiana. Expect mountains, terrain, blind intersections, lots of stopping and going, and needing to take the interstate to get anywhere.
  • Class divide is unsegregated here. Expect to see BMWs, Benz parked in front of shops with homeless living outside (with their pets). But also know, I’ve only been heckled once since being here.
  • And lastly;
  • Be open-minded. Portland is weird as fuck.

Portland: Day 5 – Submarine, Science, and Parks

Started our day out with some Coffee (per the usual) and headed to a park overlooking downtown.

Then we checked out this all Vegan burger & Shake place.

Massive all Vegan burgers, loaded fries. The shakes were *amazing*.

Then we checked out the Science Museum for the rest of the day. We took a tour of a mothertruckin’ SUBMARINE. The USS Blueback (SS-581), which was briefly starred in the Hunt for Red October with Sean Connery.

At the helm of the USS Blueback (SS-581).

Moving around inside of a submarine is challenging, you have no idea. When fully stocked with food, two layers of big cans take up all walking surfaces, leaving you with about 4′ of headroom bow to stern.

It’s stinky too, you get one shower (with 30 seconds of water) every three weeks. They can have up to 91 people on board with a hot bunking sleeping system. Three people are assigned to a 6’2″ x 2′ wide bed. You sleep, and the next person scheduled to sleep is right after you. No snoozing in, they are standing there, waiting the moment you wake up to climb in.

The engine room gets up to a mild 130F when the engines are running, at 140 decibels enough to make you permanently deaf in 20 minutes without hearing protection. Thankfully those Diesel engines are only run periodically to charge the led acid batteries, the prime movers of the electric engines.

The Captain is the only one to have their own quarters, even if the President is on board. Submarine crews eat better than any other crew in the US military. The Ice Cream machine is the most important machine on the ship, the Captain won’t leave port unless it’s functioning. Fresh pastries are baked every night for the crew.

And it makes sense, it’s difficult to impossible to stay well nourished when out of the sun for months at a time.

It’s amazing how the crew lived all the while being under the sea, I couldn’t imagine the psychological pressure of knowing that if anything went wrong; you are pretty much fucked; as even if you escape from the Submarine out to sea, you’ll likely die from the bends once you reach the surface.


We played connect 4 with two robotic arms, charged ourselves to thousands of volts with a van graff machine, got some chemistry in, and learned about human reproduction and baby development. There is a display at this museum showing every stage of the development of a child in the womb, with actual specimens (50 or so). Amanda was rather interested and spent time learning; while it made me feel uncomfortable, mortal.

SCIENCE, bitches!

We ended the day with an all Vegan Chinese restaurant in which Amanda tried out General Tso chicken for the first time (I couldn’t tell the difference, at all. It was weird).

Amanda, upon realizing that it’s ALL Vegan.