for the month of august I am traveling across the country as I drive to California. nearly all of my belongings -- furniture, books, clothing -- have been sold or given to friends save for what I really need. everything that fits in the back of my corolla is coming with me. in the downsizing and packing, the question "what is enough?" comes up. this trip is about balance and freedom and trust. trusting that I have what I need to be successful. finding balance between going and staying. discovering the freedom and openness is saying yes to the true path of my life.
this traveling is also a good indicator of priorities: my paper cutter, my bookbinding supplies, and as much paper as I could fit all reside in the back of my car as well. paper marbling supplies take up a good portion of my available space, as this trip is both as much for the purposes of self discovery as it is building community and sustaining practice across states, across landscapes. there are classes in michigan, minneapolis, aspen. there are classes yet to be determined. there will be marbling and painting and drawing and writing at rest stops and hotel rooms and national parks and forests, along river beds and at kitchen tables for me along the way.
for the month of august as I drive out west I am considering too what it means to be home. I am considering what it means to leave, what the boundary of staying is, and how to build and find a sense of groundedness despite the act of leaving. an uprooting does not always mean a heartache but it can; a staying does not always mean stagnancy but it's possible. for the month of august I ask, "what is the pattern needed for homing? how do I find home within myself? how do I create and share a sense of home with others?"
for this month, I treat my daily activities like retreat: wake up and meditate. breakfast, some type of work like cleaning, house painting, writing, laundry. on driving days there's driving and yoga at rest stops and making salads for lunch, stopping at gas stations and stopping at state parks and looking for places to stay. on resting days there's pausing, breathing, reading, writing letters, sitting by a body of water and drawing, savoring the moment to rest, savoring the space to reclaim my posture back from the hours of sitting in the car. there's yoga and running and moving. each day talking to the people I love, each day making an effort to create conversation with a stranger as they also navigate their own world. each day taking time to rest, to stretch, to breathe. each day the acts of homing in new or familiar locations.
each day, too, I make a painting of the sky, a drawing of a place. I think about the heart and growth like the weather: some days a cloudy sky, some days rain, some days a perfect sunset. some days doubt, some days expansion, some days neutrality. each day I draw and write and a record my surroundings. each day noticing things that stay the same and things that change.
for this trip, I think back to the letter project in February, and the noticing of the sky leading up to the creation of the letter writing papers. each day the sun comes into the sky whether obscured by clouds or shining bright in the unobstructed sky. I think how each day, no matter the state, there will by sky, there will be air, there will be opportunity. each day a chance to continue onward.