Sunday, July 10, 2016
Monday, May 30, 2016
the Art of being Alone
Opinion: being alone is one of the hardest, but most rewarding things we can do.
Our culture fosters a co-dependance on others. A need to socialize, over-communicate, and constantly be in touch. The thing about being alone is that you have no where to hide, no one to hide behind, or facade to creep under. You just have yourself, your thoughts, and whatever it is that you are doing with your time.
I find it healthy to spend large amounts of time alone. It gives me the opportunity to really explore my own mental and emotional inner landscapes.
I vividly remember being devastated after a break up with a boyfriend about 5 years ago. I wanted to find someone else to date because I was so lonely. I was afraid of being just with myself— I had forgotten who I was without that other person. I realized at that time that what I needed most was exactly what I was afraid of. I needed to be alone. I needed to find myself again. I needed to learn to love myself again. Because the truth was, if I couldn't love myself, take care of myself, and be good to myself by myself, then I couldn't be a good partner. It was then I realized the importance of maintaining my own identity no matter what the circumstance. I realized to have a truly healthy relationship I had to first take care of and love myself. I had to be comfortable and confident in my own skin— always.
The following months of solo time— gardening, reading, working, budgeting, reading more— really allowed me to set a foundation for who I was and who I would always be. I worked on my personal mission statement. I built up the unchange-able foundation within me.
Fast forward to roughly 5 years later— those foundations that I built still guide me daily.
After moving to Cooke City, I now spend even more time alone. When I lived in Bozeman I felt that I had to almost seek out alone time. I was constantly surrounded by people, be it roommates, co-workers, or friends. But here, when Beau is gone, if I don't make a big effort, I spend the majority of my days solo. It's allowed me to delve even deeper into my inner landscapes and begin working on my foundation of perception— the ways in which I intake information and subsequently see the world around me. I've been reading a book by Delores LaChapelle exploring the roots of our language and culture and how those things have had a huge subconscious effect on our development in the western world (both culturally and individually). It causes one to question, for example, "I see this landscape— what do I immediately think, assume, conclude about it?" I could go on, but I'm not yet capable of putting my thoughts on the research into words even close to as eloquent as the late, great Delores.
I suppose the moral I'm trying to write about and impart is the value of being alone, and embracing the discomfort and fear of that naked emotional space. Like going camping in the woods by yourself, the first night you are terrified, but after a few days you sleep better than you've ever slept before. You begin to realize and understand that the world is not out to get you, but in fact, you are just a small part of a complex, ever-changing landscape. The howling coyote begins to sound like a friend, and the wind becomes a companion. All the senses that we learn to 'shut off' in the hustle and bustle of the city begin to re-awaken. When we close our mouths, we learn to hear, see, and feel with our other senses— consequently allowing us to feel more alive. And although this can feel strange and foreign at first, it is actually exactly how we are meant to be— culturally we've just forgotten, and become lost in space and time.
Our culture fosters a co-dependance on others. A need to socialize, over-communicate, and constantly be in touch. The thing about being alone is that you have no where to hide, no one to hide behind, or facade to creep under. You just have yourself, your thoughts, and whatever it is that you are doing with your time.
I find it healthy to spend large amounts of time alone. It gives me the opportunity to really explore my own mental and emotional inner landscapes.
I vividly remember being devastated after a break up with a boyfriend about 5 years ago. I wanted to find someone else to date because I was so lonely. I was afraid of being just with myself— I had forgotten who I was without that other person. I realized at that time that what I needed most was exactly what I was afraid of. I needed to be alone. I needed to find myself again. I needed to learn to love myself again. Because the truth was, if I couldn't love myself, take care of myself, and be good to myself by myself, then I couldn't be a good partner. It was then I realized the importance of maintaining my own identity no matter what the circumstance. I realized to have a truly healthy relationship I had to first take care of and love myself. I had to be comfortable and confident in my own skin— always.
The following months of solo time— gardening, reading, working, budgeting, reading more— really allowed me to set a foundation for who I was and who I would always be. I worked on my personal mission statement. I built up the unchange-able foundation within me.
Fast forward to roughly 5 years later— those foundations that I built still guide me daily.
After moving to Cooke City, I now spend even more time alone. When I lived in Bozeman I felt that I had to almost seek out alone time. I was constantly surrounded by people, be it roommates, co-workers, or friends. But here, when Beau is gone, if I don't make a big effort, I spend the majority of my days solo. It's allowed me to delve even deeper into my inner landscapes and begin working on my foundation of perception— the ways in which I intake information and subsequently see the world around me. I've been reading a book by Delores LaChapelle exploring the roots of our language and culture and how those things have had a huge subconscious effect on our development in the western world (both culturally and individually). It causes one to question, for example, "I see this landscape— what do I immediately think, assume, conclude about it?" I could go on, but I'm not yet capable of putting my thoughts on the research into words even close to as eloquent as the late, great Delores.
I suppose the moral I'm trying to write about and impart is the value of being alone, and embracing the discomfort and fear of that naked emotional space. Like going camping in the woods by yourself, the first night you are terrified, but after a few days you sleep better than you've ever slept before. You begin to realize and understand that the world is not out to get you, but in fact, you are just a small part of a complex, ever-changing landscape. The howling coyote begins to sound like a friend, and the wind becomes a companion. All the senses that we learn to 'shut off' in the hustle and bustle of the city begin to re-awaken. When we close our mouths, we learn to hear, see, and feel with our other senses— consequently allowing us to feel more alive. And although this can feel strange and foreign at first, it is actually exactly how we are meant to be— culturally we've just forgotten, and become lost in space and time.
Monday, May 16, 2016
Thursday, May 5, 2016
Sunday, March 27, 2016
Stuck in a Rut
Like the ice cream... except it's my state of mind.
It seems like I often struggle with this during the spring. My life is awesome [I mean look at the peaks we've been gazing at and skiing among the past few days...].
Perhaps it's a vitamin D deficiency. A bit of seasonal depression maybe?
It's frustrating because this is rationally one of my favorite, if not my absolute favorite, time of year. This is the time of year when steep skiing starts to come into condition, the days are longer, and I'm feeling fit & strong.
Perhaps I've just been traveling too much. This winter has been hectic to say the least. I haven't been home for more than 2-3 weeks at a time since last September, and I was working in the Arctic for 2 months of that time period. Perhaps it's a case of the I-don't-know-how-to-slow-down-but-I'm-totally worked-ism.
It's really hard for me to slow down right when the skiing is starting to go off. But I go out skiing and I'm exhausted before the day even begins. I can't sleep enough, but I don't often sleep well. I can't eat enough, but I'm not hungry. It's really weird.
The worst part is that I'm a really shitty partner/girlfriend right now. I constantly need hugs and am often on the verge of a breakdown. Not what I aspire to be my 'normal' at all. I know I'm really struggling when it starts effecting the people around me.
So what? Whine whine whine (privileged white girl). My treatment thus far has been to chill out hard when the weather is anything but stellar. I started reading a Delores LaChapelle book, Sacred Land Sacred Sex Rapture of the Deep, and am dedicating a fair amount of time to that. Lavender essential oil, hydration (magnesium supplement), music, ect... Otherwise just trying to keep up on emails and find a stroke of creativity here and there (it's really hard to produce social media content when you feel like crap).
I'm not sure how many people will actually read this, but if you have any tips or advice I'm all ears. I know that many people go through things like this, even though we often try to put on our best face for the public.
So here's to chilling hard and, as Conrad would say, "refilling the spirit sponge." :)
It seems like I often struggle with this during the spring. My life is awesome [I mean look at the peaks we've been gazing at and skiing among the past few days...].
Perhaps it's a vitamin D deficiency. A bit of seasonal depression maybe?
It's frustrating because this is rationally one of my favorite, if not my absolute favorite, time of year. This is the time of year when steep skiing starts to come into condition, the days are longer, and I'm feeling fit & strong.
Perhaps I've just been traveling too much. This winter has been hectic to say the least. I haven't been home for more than 2-3 weeks at a time since last September, and I was working in the Arctic for 2 months of that time period. Perhaps it's a case of the I-don't-know-how-to-slow-down-but-I'm-totally worked-ism.
It's really hard for me to slow down right when the skiing is starting to go off. But I go out skiing and I'm exhausted before the day even begins. I can't sleep enough, but I don't often sleep well. I can't eat enough, but I'm not hungry. It's really weird.
The worst part is that I'm a really shitty partner/girlfriend right now. I constantly need hugs and am often on the verge of a breakdown. Not what I aspire to be my 'normal' at all. I know I'm really struggling when it starts effecting the people around me.
So what? Whine whine whine (privileged white girl). My treatment thus far has been to chill out hard when the weather is anything but stellar. I started reading a Delores LaChapelle book, Sacred Land Sacred Sex Rapture of the Deep, and am dedicating a fair amount of time to that. Lavender essential oil, hydration (magnesium supplement), music, ect... Otherwise just trying to keep up on emails and find a stroke of creativity here and there (it's really hard to produce social media content when you feel like crap).
I'm not sure how many people will actually read this, but if you have any tips or advice I'm all ears. I know that many people go through things like this, even though we often try to put on our best face for the public.
So here's to chilling hard and, as Conrad would say, "refilling the spirit sponge." :)
Saturday, January 9, 2016
Creating Space & Time
One of the things I've found most challenging lately is making space and time for creativity. Time to slow down. Time to find inspiration. Time to ponder and day dream... There is a delicate balance between living in the present and planning for the future. Anticipate and steer, or react.
I suppose you could say that I'm honing my captain's skills... :)
I suppose you could say that I'm honing my captain's skills... :)
Beau Fredlund during the December deep daze.
Sunday, December 6, 2015
Season 4 in the #greatwhitenorth
It was another great season in the #greatwhitenorth. It's always wild to return home. I feel pretty zapped-- zombie-like-- in need of a serious break to refill the spirit sponge and find my creativity again, but no such break shall I find. Diving straight into two months backlog of email, lots of Shifting Ice submissions (hooray!), and assisting with the Bozeman Ice Fest. After that I'll sleep. I'll sleep long and hard and refuel my soul with powder skiing and health food. Until then... :)
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