Post I

NOTE: Written without wireless. Updated after the fact.

Here's to new beginnings- always new beginnings, always with the influence of history.

I write this from the the cabin of an Iberia airplane. It is 8:05 PM in Chicago.

9:06 PM in New Hampshire.

3:06 AM in Madrid, Spain.

7:52 AM in Kathmandu, Nepal.

Airplanes are neutral to time, it seems. The slight staleness of the air, the measured breathing of sleepers, and the deliberately gentle breathing of the awake- who can't help but to feel slightly guilty. Airplanes, like airports and train stations, are points of transience where hours of the day belong to two categories- hours spent on the plane and hours spent off. The more I go adventuring into the world (imagine me here with a safari hat and hiker's pack here, if you would) the more fascinated I become with these points of transience. They are all so different, as my commentaries on airports may reveal, but the feeling of them is the same. It confounds me a little bit, that all of these people gather in one place to do exactly the same thing- be somewhere else. It's a rare thing for people to be so unified in something, isn't it? It could be argued that there is very little single-mindedness in this, as the gathered are splitting off to the many corners of the world- but the point is that they are going. They are going somewhere. Their lives are happening. They are not static. They are moving, making a decision, stepping into something.

I am always stepping into things. Even when I was very little, I was far too impatient for Adventure to come and meet me somewhere at her leisure. Resources for adventuring in New Hampshire are slim at twelve- less so at eighteen, though there are many who would try to convince you otherwise. It's incredible how much energy is put into making kids think that their choices are best made when limited to some anonymous authority's bulleted list of possibilities. Possibilities cannot be reduced to lists- they are literally innumerable. Still, it never seems to end, the constant influx of information that demands you to kneel to the almighty knowledge that different is wrong, walking from the beaten path will land you in trouble, and that a hunger for uncommon experiences is a symptom of adolescent restlessness- meant for the sole purpose of learning how to stamp out passions before they become you. The grinding gears of the social system considers this a valuable lesson to learn. God forbid that your passions guide your steps. The modern system of raising children is rife with unpleasant contradictions and the "Follow your dreams, but only if it fits in this box" is possibly the worst of all. But it's easier. Doing it the old-fashioned way is easier. Easier is always better. Easier is always better. There's a mantra for mediocrity. Record it and put it under your pillow at night. Play it back. Result? My generation.

Doing things differently is hard- especially when combatting so many years of social conditioning. Sometimes it is the kind of difficult that literally makes your knees fold and tears come without permission. Sometimes it is the kind of difficult where you become momentarily convinced that being alone is synonymous with loneliness. And sometimes it is the kind of difficult that suggests giving up completely. Suggest isn't really the right word- perhaps demand is more fitting. There is nothing so gentle as a suggestion when it comes to wanting to surrender. But for however much the pressure pushes down, I believe that there is something inherent, inexorable, indomitable in human nature that wants to push back. I am stronger than conditioning. I am stronger than propaganda. I am stronger than my anxieties. We need to believe that or it becomes far too easy to fold- and like in any boxing match with universal powers, every time you fall down, it is just the right amount of harder to get back up to deter one from trying at all. When people hear of what I am doing they refer to it like one would to some unattainable, exotic bird. But it's just another direction, not so amazing as people seem to think, just so very different from what we've come to expect of ourselves. I have the utmost respect for my peers who have gone immediately to college- I wish I were one of them on the daily, so I am not bashing structured higher education, but the suggestion that it is the only immediate path available following the tearful turning of tassels at a June graduation ceremony. 

I want to go to school, very very badly. I am never happier than when I am completely surrounded by the sharing of knowledge. With that in mind, it is how I must approach these experiences prior to my higher education. If higher education is college than this period in between structured learning environments is greater education. I am seeing things that some people will never see and I am living in a way that is relatively precarious, but unbelievably rewarding for all of its unpredictabilities. From now until the middle of April, I will be in Spain living España: Capítulo Dos, surrounded by the dry-soiled winter and skeletons of vineyards as far as the eye can see. The vines are as pale as birch when the winter finally chases out any autumn that is still left in their roots. I can choose to absorb this stark beauty or be conquered by the grayness of it. I can choose to learn from the amount of work that I am doing or have my back broken by it. Upon returning to the States I will be quickly off on the next adventure, a six-week journey to Nepal to research the Nepali language. From there, a return to the States to create a system of English education for the young students of Nepal.  From there? I haven't a clue. And that has to be okay.

It is perfectly alright to have not a clue of where you are going next, but unless you are doing something in the time between then and now you will never learn. We are the magnetic pull of our own compasses and experience, even if it is far from the end goal, only strengthens the accuracy to due North. When doing it differently becomes emotionally taxing, I remind myself of this. 

So what will you find here, in this space? Things that I find exciting about my research into Nepal, their culture and language, goals, hopes, lists, photographs, experiences from Spain, experiences. period., general miscellaneous thoughts, and maybe even a bit of poetry. If it sometimes sounds as if I am thinking aloud, then treat it as such. It's probably exactly what I'm doing. Sometimes I hate my thoughts, but at least I am having them.

So here's to thinking, inside and outside of the proverbial box- as long as it's sincere, as long as it's powerful, and most importantly, as long as the thought is covered with your own fingerprints- that your mind may be yours and your life the same.