#RSRSeesTheUSA Days 36-37: Limekiln State Park & Big Sur, CA
I camped last night at Limekiln State Park, with no cell service or wifi. I love those nights (there have only been 2 so far on this trip) for making me feel so immediately connected and present on the experience I’m having and not worrying about sharing or communicating about the experience.
I’ve loved writing these blog posts, and posting on social media about my trip. I continue to really enjoy them. At the same time, it does make me more aware than I might otherwise be of what stories I share and how. I don’t want to be caught up in the sharing pressure or the feeling that what I’m putting out there in these posts is a falsely perfect or oversimplified version of this trip or of my life.
Here’s what I free-wrote by hand on paper at the campsite last night. I was feeling the urge to write by hand, which is another ritual I’ve fallen off from and want to pick back up. How does my stream of consciousness come out these days? Something like this.
I’m really happy to hear positive feedback on my trip from people about how it’s brave and exciting. I feel like this is one situation where I’m doing what feels natural and instinctive, even though I know it may sound strange to someone else, and I do understand how it’s out of the ordinary. But to me, this is like my deepest, truest self—making decisions that are attuned to my heart and body and spirit. I am loving the way this trip is unfolding as I’m here about mid-way through. I want to make sure I keep thinking (and sharing) more deeply like these reflections. I’m not aiming to over-narrow the kind of writing that is my #RSRSeesTheUSA blogging, but I don’t want this to just be a straightforward travel documentation diary.
I don’t know what kind of work projects I’ll be doing, and trusting that they’ll come is often hard, but I’m taking heart from people’s comments to me on this trip that what I share is appreciated. I’m putting myself out there with transparency, vulnerability, and collectivity, which are the core values I’m holding onto. I want to find ways to share this spirit with people, and it’s something I’m proud of and known for. I don’t know how to turn that into paid work (which I need) and that brings up all kinds of feelings. It feels like the mythical “perfect solution” is just over the horizon. And I know that’s not how it works.
I hope this trip can continue to help me embrace the undefined time. The trip is bringing me joy and discovery and connection, and I’ve let go of much of my natural organizing drive. May that serve as a model for life writ large. And may I not ignore the concrete ideas that have come to me on this trip. Undefined and evolving is where I need to be right now. That shouldn’t obscure the moments of concrete insight and ideas when they come.
The campsite was tranquil and provided the natural white noise of a nearby creek. I slept soundly in the back of Stella in a bucolic creekside spot amid the shade of redwoods only a minute away from the windy, wave-swept beach.
I watched the sunset over the ocean, snuggled into my car camping bed, and woke up this morning to take a sneaky walk through the redwoods (ssh… don’t tell… the trails are supposed to still be closed as they’re rebuilt after a fire a couple years ago).
Having just finished listening to The Overstory on audiobook, I’m glad to be in a part of the country with these great trees all around me. It felt like an especial gift to have this trail all quiet, ungroomed, and to myself and these trees showing their fire scars and their sap and their new growth all at once.
I do love being in parts of the country where nature is grand and majestic.
Cloud of the day: definitely the horizon cloud bank that the sun set through last night over the sea.
