Sincerity; to be or not to be?

About this time last year, my grandmother had a stroke. It was the first of what would be many trips to the hospital over the coming year, and happened around the same time I flew home for shoulder surgery. We were both down in the dumps, my mother running back and forth between the two of us for weeks, caring for and loving us as much as she possibly could.

After my surgery, I'd visit with Grandma where ever she was- this hospital, that hospital, dark rooms filled with the smell of medicine. On a particularly upsetting day, I decided to read to her as a distraction. We chose Three Short Moments in a Long Life, a small series by John L'Heureux, out of The New Yorker magazine. She was captivated; soaking in every word. At one point, she interrupted me to tell me how proud she was that I had written these stories. I reminded her that someone else had written them, I was only reading. It was then I knew I would lose her. 

We only read 2/3 of those short stories. I promised her I would call from California and read to her over the phone, but I never did. I saw her once more before she died. Today, without her, I decided to read the third story. My tears overflow as the author fittingly describes his own year of suffering, his own death.

On that same day in the hospital, Grandma talked and talked, more than I had ever heard. She told me her life story, her fears, and how confused she was. She wished she could write down all her thoughts; to gather them, analyze them. I said I would write for her, if she just told me what she wanted to remember. We started planning a book, and though she entitled it "Sincerity; to be or not to be?", I'm not sure my grandmother ever struggled with this question. Her life, love, faith and devotion were always undoubtedly sincere. 

I remember all this today because it is time for another transition in my life; my winter job is over, my belongings are packed in the car again and the future is uncertain. I'm finding the time to reflect on the last year of both our lives- how, coincidentally or through resolution, I have been my sincerest self to date. I'll credit a little of that to California sunshine, the mountains of Colorado, and the wisdom that comes with age; but Grandma gets most of the acclaim. 

Here's to you Grandma; and to sincerity, in all it's forms.

Functional Movements

Sitting still is not my forte. I’m not sure if I run away from my fears or just can’t get to the next adventure fast enough…either way, I should've figured it out a long time ago. I’m a mover.

Coast to Coast

I write this from a rainy beach campground near Cape Cod, Massachusetts. A month ago, I was in Arizona. Before that, I lived in the California Cascades. My car is my home and my vessel- I pay rent in gas and oil changes, I sleep uncomfortably close to my few belongings, I wake up to a new view almost every day, and I love my life on the road.

This is quite the change from where I was a year ago, at the beginning of a financial and emotional tailspin. I’m happy to say it didn’t last long. The day after my last post in January, I packed my shit and moved back to my parent’s. My heart was breaking in Minneapolis, and I just needed somewhere safe to take a breath. In February, I packed up yet again and hit the road for Colorado, Nevada, Oregon. 

The reason I left this time was for my dream job, which quickly became my worst nightmare. Working with Find It Detection Dogs involved a lot of hiking, a bit of running, and some occasional tripping. It was not supposed to involve a shoulder dislocation, but it did- my third one. Horrendous, excruciating, crippling pain I wouldn’t even wish upon Donald Trump himself. The news that followed was almost as painful: my right shoulder was toast. Burnt toast. Surgery was the only option my lifestyle allowed for, so I flew back to Michigan and straight into my mother’s open arms. It was a new low I had never experienced before. 

Adaptation

I managed to keep my head up through the pain and the prognosis, and somehow I landed another job (what?!). The vibes were on my side and, to be honest, it was terrifying. I ended up in beautiful northern California, working with Spotted Owls and recovering from the blows of the previous months.

Recover I did! Holy hell. What an amazing summer. Roo and I lived in our tent by the river, hanging out in the sun all day and chasing owls at night. I made ridiculously cool friends, road tripped to places I never thought I’d see, and even met a handsome man to share my adventures with. 

I adapted. What choice did I have? I couldn’t just sit around and wait for my life to heal itself. I learned to keep my backpack straps tight, take strategic steps through the woods, and ask for help when I needed it. I taught myself to be vulnerable, logical, and selfish. I loved myself.

Preparation

Being actively on the move means each day is spent preparing for the next one to arrive. It’s a fast paced way of living, but keeps you in check so you never miss a moment. These days, my focus is shifting to prepare for the most solid goal I have ever set for myself: in 2017, I will thru-hike the Pacific Crest Trail.

I made my decision to hike the trail in 2014, but had never been to the west coast. Until this year, it seemed unrealistically far away. As luck (or fate, or odds) would have it, Chester CA is the first town after the midway point on the PCT.  I was able to work, play, and become immersed in hiker culture. I met my boyfriend and on weekends, I followed him up the trail as he walked what felt like my future. I was, and am, beyond inspired. I am affirmed. 

Schedule, timeline, gear, food, money, patience, and persistence. They are all things I will need for this hike, and the next 5 months will be spent largely in preparation for it. I will not be held back by heartbreak or hardship anymore. I will move my feet, one after the other, on every inch of that trail and through every moment of this life. 

Deep, dark and dirty

A 2005 Subaru Legacy Wagon isn't cheap. I know this because in July of 2015, I bought one.
A few days after an incredible vacation exploring several National Parks in the west with my friends, my Toyota Camry decided to take it's final breath. Horror. Suddenly Minnesota felt an unattainable world away from what I needed most- my dad. I had never purchased my own car before, which was the only solution I could see to the problem I now faced. Alone. I called my dad repeatedly, sent him links to every vehicle I looked at, even had him on the phone with the salesman at the dealership. Leave it to the real world to make a full grown adult feel like a child.

                                         New car dance with my saleswoman, Emma

After taking out a loan and bringing home the Subaru of my dreams, it hit me. Oh, shit. I owe my credit union eight thousand dollars. In reality, not that much money. On the corps stipend of just over $6.00/hr, double or triple the impact of that debt. "Ok, Anna, pull it together, get yourself a second job".

So, I did. And a third job. I worked 10, 12, 14 hour days, 7 days a week. I stopped going to crossfit, stopped going out with my friends. I thought I had it all under control, until one afternoon I decided to take Roo to the park with a friend and his dog. We walked until well after dark, exploring rocks and inlets along the Mississippi river. Bored with our shenanigans, the dogs ran off into the woods. When we called for them, only one came back- and it wasn't Roo. Horror. Again. Blue heelers are endearingly referred to as "velcro dogs", known for never leaving their owner's side, and Roo is the embodiment of this expression. Where was my dog? My search  finally ended in her painful emergence from the woods, holding up an all-too-obviously broken leg.

Before

                                                                          After


I wasn't prepared for what the Vet at the emergency hospital was about to say. With both bones in her front leg completely broken and displaced, surgery would be the best option. Surgery. Best case scenario: $3,000 and eight weeks of bed rest. So, that's what we did. We had no choice.

Meanwhile, work with the Conservation Corps was defeating me. Intense physical labor and nominal pay, lacking the satisfaction it brought earlier in the year. Each day it was a struggle to care. Finally, after months of anticipation to join the "real world" again, the end came. A retreat, a party, a hangover, and.....now what? Here I am, world! I have amazing new skills and knowledge! You know you want to hire me!
Not. 
Winter isn't hiring season in the field of natural resources. I left the corps feeling disappointed, useless, bored and broke.

I am not telling you this for your money, your advice or your pity; save it. I am telling you this as it speaks to my state of mind, which I can only describe as apathetic. A difficult feeling to understand, especially while experiencing it, as it is the lack of feeling at all. My bank account has suffered, friendships and romantic relationships have failed. I only emerge from the shell my mind has created to do the minimum necessary- go to work, eat food, walk dog, smile halfheartedly. Then, I go back inside to contemplate the proverbial questions 'who am I', 'what is life', and 'who cares'. 

It is not sadness, despair, or depression. I envision a bright, successful future for myself and plan on attaining it. The only problem is, that future is being made by an Anna who is outgoing, constructive, positive, and comfortable (she also has great hair and a nice ass). Getting from now-Anna to future-Anna is the challenging part, when everything in between feels like filler. Now is boring, now is unproductive, now is not what I want.

During the car fiasco, my dad said something to me that stuck. Everything that has happened to me is a consequence of my choices. I couldn't believe he was being so mean- how could it be my fault that my car broke down and I had no money for a new one! How could that be?!?! But- he was right. I chose to take a job that paid next to nothing, and I chose to buy a new car instead of coming up with a different solution. My choices don't determine what happens to me, but they do determine how well I am equipped to handle it. I don't always make the 'right' choice. In fact, I often knowingly make the 'wrong' choice (because, tbh, life is more fun that way).
Until the majority of my choices are 'right', I feel I may be stuck here in neutral. Feeling, not feeling, or not feeling any feelings, whatever.

This obligatory attempt at expression is to help myself, my friends, my family, and my followers understand what has kept me away from blogging for so long.

This is where I am.

NBD

I've spent many of the recent gorgeous spring evenings laying in my yard, watching the clouds roll by. On one such occasion, this word invaded my head: Insignificant. Before I could stop them, my thoughts were spiraling out of control and into anxiety as I realized the magnitude of the world around me; that I am one small life out of billions. What can any of us possibly have to offer?

My roommate working from his home office, my ex boyfriend salmon fishing in Alaska, my best friend caring for wolves at the Detroit Zoo, my brother fighting wildfire in Nevada. These four as examples are all aware of each other, and would probably tell you they don't have much in common; would never choose to do what the others are doing. Yet, their significance is so intense, it is almost easier to ignore than to acknowledge. As a few of the most important people in my life, this is simple for me to say about them, but it is true for every single life on the planet.

When my parents tell me they love me, when my coach says he's proud of me, when my dog (literally) jumps for joy at the sight of me- these are all times I feel significant. So, what am I getting at here? We all want to live in a world full of things that make us happy. Consumerism, conservation, crossfit...whatever it is, we all make conscious decisions to keep these things in our lives. It is not the government, or big business, or terrorism that changes the world. It is every single choice made by every single person to keep themselves feeling significant. This is what we each have to offer.

My goal, to keep my little green life growing, is to make choices that are not only right for me, but make sense. A global, social and environmental responsibility to do "the right thing". I stress this because I know, even as just one life out of billions, everything I do is important. I'd like to live in a world where everyone feels this way.

"The choices we make about the lives we live determine the kinds of legacies we leave"

-Tavis Smiley

P.S.

'Project' update:

Two days ago, I planted a vegetable garden! Whoa, impressive, right? Good thing we've planted more trees and plants than I can even begin to count over the last 4 months at work- at least I had a slight idea of what I was doing. Broccoli, cucumber, eggplant, tomatoes, peppers, etc...can't wait!

Both composts are doing better than expected, although we add to the food bin so often that it isn't ready for the garden...I have a second bin laying around and may stagger them so the first has time to cook. My trash can is nowhere near full, consisting of mostly protein bar wrappers, bandaids and pet hair.

Exciting things lay ahead of me in the near future...I don't want to give anything away, but I'll be posting as they happen. Don't forget to follow @alittlegreenlife on Instagram, and keep up with my monthly Conservation Corps blog! Happy trails!

Switchbacks

Everyone has one little life. Every day and every action is a chance to make a big impact; on yourself, on others, on the future.

As my Little Green Life grows, I think it is time to transition this blog to reflect the bigger picture. Last year, I was one bag of trash. This year, I will be so much more. I picture 2015 and beyond as a steep mountain, the trail full of switchbacks:

Solitude.

Something I constantly crave and never really achieve. I was grateful to be able to spend a few days alone at my cabin- which I kept at a balmy 35 degrees fahrenheit. Frozen food and lack of wood forced me out a bit earlier than I would have liked, so I've decided I will have to find simple, daily ways to seek solitude and look inward.

Strength. 

I thought I was already strong- phew, was I wrong. I started training at Crossfit Kingfield and unpleasantly discovered all the hidden muscles my body is composed of. It may be an addiction for some; for me it is hard work. I'm committed and determined to use this outlet to physically and mentally challenge myself. I've made some friends, too- bonus!

Health.

Being a vegetarian crossfit-er is interesting.  I used to be able to get the protein I needed from a PB&J, then snack the rest of the day because, who cares? I'm trying to be more aware of what my body is asking for and answering with some sort of appropriately packaged sustenance.

Action.  

This is my favorite, and what I'll focus on when writing from now on. I've joined the Conservation Corps of Minnesota and Iowa. Tomorrow, I start a 10-month term working on conservation projects around MN. Yes, yes, YES! Just the thought of doing something every day that makes a significant and visible impact shoots adrenaline through my veins.

Of course, I have to make sure my growing life still makes a little footprint. None of the specs of last year's project have changed- one of the 2015 goals is to create as little waste as possible- but this year I'm not going to work as hard to quantify it. I know I can do it; now I get to encourage others to do the same. Or force them, if you happen to be one of my roommates.

Since I left you abruptly in 2014, a quick update on the project, as it is ongoing. Our recycling is constantly overflowing, and both composters are steaming! I've put another bag in my garbage bin, and continue to keep it separate from the boys'- mostly because this means I don't have any responsibility for taking out their smelly stuff. I'm not sure when it's safe to plant a garden in Minnesota, since snow and frost occasionally happen well into May, but we'll be doing that as soon as we can.

That's it for now! I'm off to learn how to cook tofu...sigh.

"Everyone wants to live on top of the mountain, but all the happiness and growth occurs while you're climbing it."

-Andy Rooney

New Year, New Bag

Three hundred and sixty five. Such a small number of days in which so many things have changed in my life. A year ago, my new year's resolution was to complete this challenge- to create only one 13 gallon bag of landfill waste during 2014. Today I can say I've succeeded! Here's what I have to show for the last year...

13 gallons of trash, 2 hot composters, and full recycling bins. What more could a girl ask for?

There is much I can say now to make this a lengthy and meaningful post, but I'll keep it short and sweet. I'm happy and humbled by the outcome of this project, as it quickly became about much more than my garbage. The last 12 months taught me many lessons about strength, about love, about myself.

Most of all, I've learned that a little green life can have a big impact!

Celebrate what you want to see more of!

-Tom Peters 

One Small Step for Man...

OK, somehow, I made it! Last Friday my brother, cat, dog, Toyota Camry, U-Haul trailer and myself took off to begin my newest adventure. With a short detour in Wisconsin for camping and Costa Rican rum consumption ("but why is the rum gone?!"), we made it to Minneapolis Saturday afternoon. Each day since then has consisted mostly of socializing, room decorating, dog walking, and getting lost trying to make it into the cities (thanks for nothing, Siri).

I won't bore you with more details about my somehow incredibly smooth transition from country roads to city sidewalks, but I do need to get mushy here for a sec and send out some heartfelt thanks. To my parents and family, for their remarkable and unwavering support through every chapter of my life. To Kerrin O'Brien and the MRC, for making this last year of opportunities and self-discovery possible for me. To my friends, because I can still feel their love from here. To my new roommates, who took me in no questions asked. And finally to my brother, for being my courage and my pride when I can't seem to find any.

Alright, ew. Now we can get to the exciting stuff. First of all, this city is amazing. Pedestrian friendly, dog friendly, earth friendly. The only things I miss about Michigan are Kroger, Meijer, and the bottle deposit law. I guess Target, Trader Joe's and awesome recycling will have to do. When I say awesome recycling, I mean it. I have a single stream recycling cart sitting in the alleyway behind me that was emptied by the city on Tuesday; today is Friday and it's already full again. My roommates already recycled, and have been 100% receptive and supportive of doing more. We now have 6 bins for recycling in the kitchen, and compost in the works. 

My personal trash can suffered minimally from the move, additions mostly consisting of 3M Command strips. I'm keeping it in my room for now to avoid confusion and chaos.

Brother and I spent some quality time with tools this week, making new compost bins:

 

 And here we have Tommy Mac, modeling this season's latest trend in poop composters

This was SO easy. I don't know why I bothered with making them from pallets before. I picked up two 32-gallon "trash cans" from the store, about 20 bucks each. For the food scrap composter, we drilled aeration holes around the sides and the bottom, and I placed it next to the vegetable garden today. The poop composter used the same concept, but we cut off the bottom of the container, as demonstrated in the last picture (don't worry, he's actually wearing pants). Assuming it doesn't rain tomorrow, I'll be digging a hole in the yard to sink this into. Keeping it underground should control odors and aid in the composting process...but I've never done this before so it should be a fun experiment.

Well, there you have it. Of course I'll continue my regular update here, but follow me on Instagram for picture updates from around the cities! @alittlegreenlife

And so begins the rise of my many suns...