#the mystery and Never Knowing/Impossible To Figure It Out ness of it is just ... EATS IT..... GOOD.

[bcneheaded]

Yall I've had this idea in my head for an AI entity character thing since forever and?? It's driving me absolutely bonkers, this consciousness wants OUT but I have no idea how to write it, it is simply too intricate and confusing

[per-ineptia-ad-astra]

Star Trek Gold Key #25: Dwarf Planet

Happy New Year everyone! 

Next episode still isn’t coming until the seventh, but while I was re-organizing my excessive amount of books I came across something and thought, hey, this might make for a fun holiday treat. Besides, I felt bad leaving you guys on a cliffhanger for so long. 

So this...

[ID: A photograph of a copy of Star Trek The Key Collection: Volume 4, with a cover showing Kirk, Spock and McCoy against a background of stars, with Sulu and Scotty in insets.] 

...this is one of my Gold Key comic collections. 

The Gold Key comics were the first Star Trek comics ever made, running for sixty-one issues from 1969-1979. What I have here are volumes three and four of a five-book collection of the comics put out back in 2004-2006, which actually only goes up to #43—the last two books were planned but never published.

Myself, I first found volume four here at a used bookstore not too long after I had first gotten into Star Trek. (I found volume three at another store quite awhile later. I apologize for not starting at the beginning here, but this is what I have. There’s no continuity anyway so don’t worry about that.) I was very much not prepared for what I was about to find inside.

For the thing about these comics is that they are incredibly and hilariously bad. The plots themselves wouldn’t always be out of place for Trek, but the combo of dodgy art, weird dialogue, and overall off-ness that gives the sense that the writers were working off a Wikipedia article about Star Trek instead of ever actually having seen the show, all adds up to a final product that doesn’t resemble Star Trek so much as a weird fever-dream version of Star Trek from an alternate dimension.

Don’t believe me? Let’s take a look.

[Image Description: A comic splash page titled STAR TREK: DWARF PLANET Part 1 showing Scotty, wearing a blue and white polka-dot loincloth, throwing rocks at a slimy green thing while saying, “What kind o’way is this for a lad like me to be dyin’--trampled by a hairy-legged—MICROBE!” The narration box at the top of the page says “Come along with the crew of the starship Enterprise as they race to solve the mystery of a world in which all life is rapidly shrinking to—oblivion!”]

Our issue for today, Dwarf Planet, opens with a splash page of Scotty in a spotted loincloth throwing rocks at a microbe, which I think gives you a pretty good idea of what we’re in for here.

[ID: A dark green Enterprise shuttle, landing on an empty airfield with a green field in the distance. The narration box reads, “Captain’s Log, Star Date 19:24:8—Lt. Uhura, Chief Comm-officer, has detected intelligent radio signals from the little explored area of space, sector 199-D!” Inside the ship Kirk is saying, “You were right, Lt. Uhura! There is advanced life on this planet! Mr. Spock and I will investigate!” while Uhura says, “With the captain’s permission, I’d like to accompany you!”]

The story itself, however, begins with an Enterprise shuttle—newly painted green, apparently—landing on this planet to investigate some intelligent radio signals. I don’t know why Uhura waited until they actually got down to the planet surface before asking if she could come with.

Anyway, they find a fully-built city, but it’s completely deserted, no one around. The only living thing are some bushes that turn out, upon closer examination, to actually be miniature trees. Kirk thinks this is weird, which is a bit judgmental of him. Maybe people on this planet just like their bonsai.

The mystery deepens when they find another city within a mile of the first—also abandoned, and much smaller than the first one. And I don’t mean smaller in terms of zoning. I mean the buildings are about two or three feet tall. Uhura speculates that there may have been multiple intelligent species of different sizes living on the planet, but there’s no sign of any of them now.

Kirk then recommends they split up, gang. He heads off into the countryside, where he finds a tiny rocketship that he assumes is a toy belonging to a child. Except it promptly flies off and returns with a bunch more ships, which trap Kirk with a net. He helpfully narrates all this as it’s happening.

[ID: A page of four panels showing Kirk being surrounded by small rockets which are firing weighted ropes at him, slowly driving him to the ground. First panel: “They’ve opened fire! Shooting heavy stranded wire!” Second panel: “They’re forming a net over me! I’m being captured by a pack of toy rockets!” Third panel: “Can’t break these things! And they’re pulling me down! ARRRRGGGGH!” Fourth panel: “One of them is landing! If I could only get my hands on the child who’s controlling these fantastic toys!”]

Thanks Kirk.

It’s not until the rockets land and open that Kirk finally realizes they’re not toys being operated by a child, but real miniature rockets being flown by tiny people, who shoot Kirk in the face with some paralyzing gas before he can get a message out over the communicator. One of the tiny people—speaking through an unexplained device on his forehead—introduces himself as General Kwy. I have no idea how to pronounce that.

[ID: Two panels showing Kirk laying on the ground while a small bald man in a red tunic and black pants stands on his chest. In the first panel he is saying, “You would like to say ‘I come to planet Kujal in peace! Why do you treat me so?’ Because you are a giant! And where one has come, others will follow!” In the second panel he says, “My people will become slaves to yours! Household pets or worse—sideshow freaks! Not while I live, giant! Never!”]

General Kwy has some weirdly detailed predictions about what’s going to happen if his people are discovered by ‘giants’ and he’s not having it. So he brings out a couple cranes to load Kirk onto a board, Gulliver’s Travels style,  and has him wheeled off to a third, even smaller, city.

[ID: Kirk laying on a wooden wheeled board in front of a dais covered cloth, where a woman sits on a gold chair next to General Kwy. The general is saying, “Madame President, I’ve brought the giant prisoner mentioned in my report!” Kirk is thinking, “A woman leader! A more advanced world than many!”]

Kirk is brought in front of Madame President, which Kirk reminds us is So Advanced. Madame President is a little nicer than General Kwy and orders Kirk to be de-paralyzed, but then reveals that Spock and Uhura have been captured also. And stowed under the bunting on the dais. No, I don’t know why.

Madame President lays down some backstory: there was only ever one species of people on the planet, which was once human-sized. They “were a happy world until sudden explosions rocked [their] sun with fantastic intensity.” Don’t you hate it when that happens?

[ID: A panel with a narration box saying, “But, in time, these ceased and life resumed as before! Until, one day...” Below, someone in a gray robe is approaching a woman sitting at an oversized table, talking into a large rotary phone. The person in the robe is saying, “We are growing smaller with every passing day!” The woman is saying, “Yes! It’s true! Others report the same! But why?”]

Yes! It’s true! Others are reporting the same, right now, on my giant rotary phone.

The shrinking kept happening, causing the next generation to have to build an entirely new city, and the next generation to do the same. Eventually they figured out that because of the sun explosions “some new radio waves have caused all living cells to shrink.” Sure. Anyway, looks like now their civilization is doomed because eventually they’re going to shrink out of existence. Bummer.

Uhura points out that the Enterprise could very easily move them all to another planet, but Madame President gives the standard answer for why we can never just use the easy solution, which is “no we love our planet so much we’re all gonna stay here even if it kills us.”

General Kwy wants to have the three of them executed straight away, but Madame President belays that and lets them all go sit and eat tiny food and talk while she figures out what to do with them.

[ID: Spock, Kirk and Uhura sitting among the small buildings eating and talking. Narration: “Later, as crowds watch from a distance...” Uhura: “How could they think of altering their sun even if they had the ships to reach it?” Spock: “Quite impossible! All the harnessed power of the inhabited worlds of the universe could not destroy—or even alter—a star!”]

All that harnessed power of the inhabited worlds couldn’t alter a star! It takes inexplicable space explosions to do that.

Since altering the star is out of the question, Kirk proposes making some kind of antidote or shielding to deal with the shrink rays. But to do that, they’d have to fly close to the sun to gather samples of the rays. I don’t know how you capture samples of radio waves but he seems confident. Little does he know, however, that the general has an “audio-magnifier” trained on the trio to eavesdrop on their plans, because just listening would be too easy.

Madame President is okay with this plan. Suspiciously, so is General Kwy, though he proposes that they leave a hostage to guarantee they don’t just escape. Which doesn’t work super well when the people in question have remote teleportation technology, but he doesn’t know that.

[ID: A very pale-looking Uhura leaning over Madame President and saying, “In that case, Madame President, I volunteer to be the hostage!” Madame President is saying, “I was hoping the woman among you would show that courage! Congratulations, Lieutenant!”]

As a woman, I was hoping the woman among you would show courage! Here on my advanced world, we like it when women show courage. Have I mentioned I’m a woman recently?

Uhura is often—though not always—quite distressingly pale in these comics. With the way it varies I’m not sure whether it was intentional whitewashing or just bad coloring. Or some awful combination of both, maybe.

With Uhura staying behind, Kirk and Spock prepare to leave, although not before General Kwy stops them to give them a container of fruit as a gift. Absolutely no one bothers to check that the box does indeed contain fruit. Surprise! It doesn’t. It contains a couple of stowaway soldiers assigned to sabotage the mission. Because Kwy still thinks the humans want to make slaves of them all. Or something.

Part Two begins with the Enterprise approaching the sun, as Kirk says that they have no way of knowing whether the ship’s anti-radio shielding will stop them all from getting shrunk. That seems like something they should really have made sure of before doing this. Oh well, too late now.

As they get close to the sun, Sulu tries to raise the radio energy analyzer dish—it’s a thing, apparently—but it won’t go up. Apparently there’s a mechanical problem that necessitates someone go outside and unjam the thing. Even in the future, someone still has to occasionally go personally hit things until they work again.

Luckily, Scotty’s on the case, showing up all dressed in special anti-radio foil before Kirk even has a chance to give any orders. Kirk is a little miffed about this since he’s supposed to be the captain and all but Scotty doesn’t have any time for that.

Scotty struggles with the radar dish while everyone stands around watching and making helpful comments.

[ID: Four panels showing Scotty struggling to lift a radar dish on the top of the ship while Kirk, Spock and McCoy watch on a viewscreen. In the first panel, Scotty is thinking, “But it must be doin’ the job—or those rays would be shrinkin’ me already! Now to get the dish up into position! UGGGGGH!” Second panel, Kirk: “It’s jammed all right! Look at him struggling! I wish we could communicate with him!” Spock: “Our radio signals can’t get through that foil, either, of course!” Third panel, narration, as Scotty raises the dish with a ‘whooosh!’ and ‘klang!’: “Finally, with one mighty effort...” Kirk, from offscreen: “He made it! Nice work! Even you have to admit it, Bones!” McCoy, from offscreen: “Why, Captain? He’ll be telling us all about it for months! Ha-ha-ha!” Fourth panel, showing Scotty collapsed on the top of the ship, McCoy: “Hold it! Something’s wrong! He’s collapsed!” Kirk: “Emergency! Break out another foil outergear! I’m going after him!”]

I wasn’t aware that Scotty and Bones had any particular rivalry, but this writer seems to think otherwise. 

Anyway, as you can see, Scotty promptly collapses, and since as we know there are only about ten people on the whole Enterprise Kirk has to personally go out after him. Instead of Scotty, though, he finds an empty suit.

[ID: Kirk, wearing a foil spacesuit and holding up another spacesuit, seemingly empty, while McCoy looks on and Spock leans over the suit with his hand to his ear. Kirk: “This is exactly what I found! But how could--” Spock: “Shhhhhh! Listen! Do you hear it?”]

I don’t know why, but that picture of Spock with his hand to his ear is cracking me up.

As you can probably guess if you’ve been paying any amount of attention to anything, Scotty done got shrunk. Apparently the radar dish tore a hole in the protective foil. Don’t design your radar dishes with sharp edges, folks. Since Scotty was so close to the sun at the time, he got a heckton of radiation (that’s a scientific term), so he’s still shrinking. In fact, Spock speculates that Scotty might quickly be reduced to microscopic size, meaning that “the very bacteria in the air will menace him as much as a prehistoric mammoth would us!”

An odd choice of metaphor, but we can’t have Scotty be menaced by mammoth bacteria, so they rig up a sterilized environment for him.

[ID: First panel, Spock and Kirk are looking at a glass dome with a tube going into it. Narration: “Full technical facilities of the starship are put to work on the problem and shortly...” Spock: “Under that dome is a complete antiseptic atmosphere! The ‘breather’ tube circulates sterilized air!” Kirk: “A microbless world! That should do it!” Second panel, McCoy is holding up a miniature Scotty wearing a blue handkerchief around his waist. McCoy: “I’ll say one thing, Scotty—that kerchief looks better wrapped around you than it ever did in my pocket!” Scotty: “And what’ll I be wearin’ next—a speck o’ dust for a fur coat?”]

This one’s for you, Scones shippers. I...guess. (???)

Luckily for Scotty it doesn’t take long to identify the mysterious radio energy, as someone helpfully announces over the intercom.

[ID: First panel, McCoy is standing next to the dome and looking off to side, listening to an announcement from the intercom. Narration: “Painful minutes tick away as Scotty continues shrinking..” Intercom: “Attention! We have identified the mystery radio energy!” McCoy: “Did you hear, Scotty? We’re half-way home!” Second panel, McCoy is looking into the dome, now empty with the handkerchief huddled at the bottom. Narration: “And then the dread moment...” McCoy: “He’s gone! Yet I know he’s still in there—too small for the eye to see!”]

Unluckily for Scotty, the two little soldiers have arrived on the scene, and take the opportunity to fire on the breather tube. McCoy quickly captures them and puts them away in convenient storage box, which is just an empty box with ‘storage’ written on it.

[ID: McCoy putting two miniature soldiers into a box labeled ‘Storage.’ McCoy: “We’ll settle with you later!”]

He seals the tube with a bandage, but it’s too late—down in the land of microbes, a germ has gotten in.

[ID: First panel, Scotty is facing off against a large green eyeless worm-like thing. Scotty: “Glory be! A microscopic monster! Some germ that broke through the sealed system!” Monster: “EEEYAWWWRRRR!” Second panel, the monster lashes out its tongue at Scotty, who narrowly dodges under it. Scotty: “Missed me! But how long can I keep this little dance goin’?” Monster: “UNNGAWWRRR!”]

Sure, that’s what germs look like. Why not.

As promised by the splash page, Scotty has to engage in some germ warfare, using some microscopic dirt boulders that also got in as ammunition. It’s thrilling. Truly.

With the germ monster defeated, Scotty gets retrieved by McCoy, who’s wearing some sweet micro-specs.

[ID: First panel, Scotty is being lifted by a thin pointed silver rod. Scotty: “I’m caught! Feel like a whale being harpooned! No—more like a sardine! But what’s doin’ it?” Second panel, Spock looks on as McCoy, wearing goggles with a giant scope in one eye, lifts the rod. Narration: “And, in the world of ‘giants’...” Spock: “Are you sure you’ve got him, doctor?” McCoy: “Yes! I can see him clearly through these micro-specs! He’s struggling like a demon!”]

They stick him under the newly invented anti-shrink ray, which hasn’t been tested because there’s NO TIME, but it works because of course it does. Everyone’s very happy about this.

[ID: The Enterprise flying away from the sun with a ‘fwooosh!’ while people onboard exclaim “Hurrah!” “Yahoooo!” and “Eeeyowwww!”]

Eeyowwww, indeed.

[ID: First panel, Spock and Kirk watching a small Scotty gesturing. Spock: “Listen! He’s trying to tell us something!” Kirk: “The first report by a human returned from the land of microbes!” Second panel, Scotty: “--I said, ‘Get me some clothes, mon! I’m poppin’ out of this silly thing!” Spock: “Ha-ha-ha!” Kirk: “Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!”]

Ha-ha-ha-ha. Yes, that’s Spock laughing. I guess “Spock doesn’t laugh” wasn’t covered in the, I’m guessing, three sentence summary of Star Trek that the writers of this had to go on.

Anyway, they go back to the planet and tell Madame President that they’re going to deliver the anti-shrink rays so the population can be restored to proper size, although ‘proper size’ is not the size they’ve been used to being all their lives so one wonders if they really want that, but, eh, who cares. With General Kwy’s treachery exposed, Madame President has concocted a special punishment for him: he’ll be the last one on the whole world returned to full size. That’ll show him.

A happy ending (?), but of course we have to wrap up with something pithy.

[ID: Kirk sitting in the captain’s chair while Scotty and Spock stand nearby. Scotty: “--And I’ll tell you one thing, I’ll never make fun of another man’s size again!” Spock: “Experience is a great teacher!” Kirk: “Teacher? This kind of experience is a full professor!”]

Well, they tried.

[junker-town]

SB Nation reviews: Super Mario 64

Getty Images

Style 10

The opening of Super Mario 64 moves like a dream: birds chirping, a path cutting through verdant green knolls; a moat and castle; a menacing laugh; a liquid painting, a portal to a battlefield. The components don’t fit, and yet going from one to the next feels right. The exposition is loose. You were supposed to be blown away by the world itself — how bright the colors were, how many things you could touch and climb — and so the developers moved everything else out of the way. I remember how round everything seemed.

It presented an overwhelming amount of new information to take in. The castle contained multiple types of locked doors, and coins served a different purpose than they had in any previous Mario game. It was hard to tell who was an enemy. In past Mario games, you could presume that everything wanted to kill you, but in Mario 64, the first characters you meet are friendly pink bob-ombs, who I instinctively distrusted.

Nothing was ever very clearly spelled out. The first stage, Bob-Omb Battlefield, gives you a path to follow, but the whatzits and bobbles along the way — the red coin on top of a gizmo (good thing!), the inaccessible star behind the cage (good thing?), the bubbles falling from the sky (bad thing!) — you had to discover their purpose on your own. One of the first enemies you encounter is the massive, toothy, barking and utterly terrifying Chain Chomp guarding the caged star, which I ran like hell from after it planted me.

Mario 64 did a lot of things that may not be considered good game design anymore. All of Nintendo’s later Mario games would eschew placing man-eating ballistics within the first 30 seconds of their first level, for example. But often it felt like they overcorrected. The Super Mario Galaxy games were particularly egregious about spelling out solutions, or having a non-playable character ask if you need help if you seemed to be dying a lot.

By contrast, nowhere does Mario 64 explain that jumping into the Wet-Dry World painting at different heights changes its water level. Or that the time you enter Tick Tock Clock affects the speed of its rotating gears. Or how the hell you do anything in Big Boo’s Haunt, really. The game figured you would piece everything on your own in time, and never seemed concerned that you might miss something. The only way it anticipated your confusion was by giving you the option ditch a level you were tired of or stuck on, and to go play another. The game contained 120 total power stars, but you only needed 70 to attempt the final stage.

Mario 64’s mysteries were so rich and obtuse that players often over-read into the environment. Famously, theories about the meaning of an inscription on a statue in the castle courtyard (usually read as either “Eternal Star or “L is real 2401”) were shared on message boards well into the next generation of consoles, many hoping it was a clue to finding Luigi within the game.

Compare that again to the Galaxy games, which were brilliant in their own right, but were designed in order to make missing anything impossible. It took more than 20 years, with the release of Super Mario Odyssey, for Nintendo to approach Super Mario 64’s level of exploration and wonder, but it still didn’t come close in obtuseness. Only 2D predecessors Super Mario Bros. 3 and Super Mario World (and maybe Super Mario Sunshine, though I never played it) were as comfortable with being confusing.

Maybe I’m apt to read into things, but Super Mario 64 seemed built for a bygone, more personable world. I learned what to do and where to go through real life communication with others who were also playing the game — cousins, kids on the playground, etc. I had no choice. Good walkthroughs weren’t as easy to find as they are now. While games in the time of Super Mario 64 existed within the world, games now exist within themselves, giving you everything you need, every tool and signpost, within a demarcated space.

Super Mario 64 wasn’t optimized, and that made it feel more real. In Lethal Lava Land, falling into a volcano and discovering a whole new world felt like a little communion between me and the person who put it there. I wasn’t led to the lip with wisely placed breadcrumbs. I just leaped, in case someone hoped I might.

Performance 10

In part because I was so in love with my ability to move within its environment, I forgave Super Mario 64 its flaws. Yeah, the camera is cumbersome, but wrestling with it felt like part of the game. If I had to walk across a narrow platform, my process would be to: 1) wriggle the joystick and the camera buttons until I had a legible angle to walk 2) tilt the joystick ever so slightly in the direction I wanted to go, and 3) be ready for the camera to swing suddenly and wildly. I know that the camera’s many quirks weren’t intended, and I understand if anyone feels it takes away from the game now. But to me, the camera still feels like a feature, a part of the way of things.

And if I am apt to normalize Mario 64’s shortcomings, I think I also took for granted just how much it nailed. Movement, for example, isn’t something you tend to think about as you’re doing it. If you find yourself thinking about how you’re moving through the world, it’s likely because you feel so restricted that it’s occupying your consciousness. And so it was that you might not have realized just how much fun you were having as you jumped and double jumped and triple jumped and long jumped and wall jumped and butt stomped and backflipped and kicked and scooted throughout the game. Nor just how much that movement enabled exploration, nor how frustrating all of those secrets could have been if it wasn’t so inherently fun to hurl your body at every seam in the architecture.

Mario 64 wasn’t a glitchy game, per se, but like any early polygonal game it showed its ass from time to time. But as with the camera, you could come to love seeing Mario’s arm clip through a wall, or his whole body stutter violently if he stood, just so, on a ledge. Mario 64 was both fun to play and play with. It was OK if what you did broke the game’s world in some way if it felt right within your own.

Mario 64’s herky jerky-ness even helped give it a second life. It is one of the most notable speedrunning games of all time. For decades now, players have been finding new ways to exploit the game. The first discoveries were innocuous enough, from using the rabbit in the basement, named Mips, to glitch through doors, to doing a backwards long jump to get up the endless staircase to Bowser In The Sky without the requisite star total. One YouTuber so disassembled the game’s geometry that he beat a complicated star without technically jumping. He used a technique that could credibly be explained using the phrase “parallel universes.” You can see for yourself.

I hate to impose philosophy on a game that really isn’t so complicated. Super Mario 64 was designed purely for fun. You jump around intricate sandboxes and break things until you’ve picked up enough shiny tokens to save a princess. That’s it, that’s the whole thing.

But I can’t ignore what it was when it came out in 1996 and what it is now. I don’t know that I ever will again experience something so inspired, and so made with love, as Super Mario 64. Video games had only just gained a grip on how to design for a 2D space when Nintendo started grappling with 3D. The result was a game written without rules, in which every decision was a bold experiment, guided only by someone’s instinct for joy. It’s why even when things don’t quite work, you could not only forgive those faults, but love them.

Super Mario 64 is not a masterpiece for its time. It’s a masterpiece, full stop, both an artifact that could have only been forged within a thin sliver of existence, and a timeless example of pure creation and creativity rarely seen — and seemingly rarer and rarer — in this world. It is a reminder that perfection can never be approached if you strive for it. And that to ever come close may mean necessarily falling short.

Overall 9.9

[gypsyrover-ghost]

fear & trust

i’ve heard people say that the opposite of fear is faith. perhaps. the thing i feel gets me through it, doesn’t feel like it’s the knowledge that something good will come out of the situation or that things will turn around and my fears won’t be realized, actually, to me, the opposite of fear feels like trust. A very specific kind of trust. My first instinctive reaction to fear, is to go into survival mode, and figure out how to protect me & mine. However, most of the time now, there is another ridiculous thought that comes directly after, “it is not my job to look after me, it’s God’s. It is God’s job to take care of me. It is my job to love Him, first, before me, and look after his people & kingdom.” Honestly, that is the kind of thinking that will get you killed. In every way. Physically, emotionally, and spiritually. Because on top of whatever very real already in your face fear that is threatening you, you just exposed a very fragile faith to the wide open, and now even the distant hope of god could get completely annihilated, along with you, and your stupid naive-ness will also be entirely visible to the world and open to ridicule. Why make yourself more vulnerable when you’re already hurting? 

There is this crazy picture/symbol/reality in the cross of jesus. In it there is this statement that he makes which is, “If I stay open to loving these people, it will kill me... so I choose to stay vulnerable and die.” Because that’s the revelation of who he is in the cross. In it there is no safety for Him, but there is an open-ness for relationship with us. He chose to not put himself first. If it’s true at all, that means He chose to love me, before himself. And if that’s the case, then maybe I really can trust Him, with my life.

And that is what he asks me to do. to take up my cross and do what he did. to choose to be open to him even if that leaves me more open to suffering in a very real way. let me tell you it has not kept me from pain, it has done much the opposite. there is not just pain though. the cross was not the end. there was also hell in the middle of waiting for breakthrough. but then there was new life. the impossible kind. the indestructible kind.  

...take up your cross and follow me, for whosoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever gives up his life for my sake will find it... Do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink or wear, this is what the world seeks after. Your Father knows that you need all these things, but seek first the kingdom and all these things shall be added to you...

So often, staying open to god, has left me completely disappointed and let down in very deep and destructive ways. Not small things. Things like hunger, isolation, homelessness, violence, poverty, sickness, death. Personally, of all the christian verses and uplifting thoughts people tried to give me, i think the most helpful thing i held onto was from the great leader & drinker Winston Churchill, “If you’re going through hell, keep going.” 

When i haven’t been able to see a way out, and am convinced there is no way out, just the action of putting one foot in front of the other and continuing on in the dark feels like all i can do. Not because i need to carry on. But because i simply can’t stay and get comfortable in the hell that i’m in. 

Actions really do speak louder than words, including thoughts of fear. The act of walking on, breathing, getting out of bed, or doing what you feel made to do, still finding joy in the things & people you love... this is hope and trust in one of its most basic forms. Hidden inside them is the belief that the simple things you have known to be true, really are true, still, and perhaps they will continue to be true even when everything around you, and within you, is uncertain. Maybe the peace/hope/joy/love you once felt were not just the illusions of a sheltered existence. Maybe they really were real. Maybe they can still be real, still hope to be found, even in the midst of absolute chaos or uncharted territory. And especially, in the midst of opposition and fear.

It needs to be said that just because everything’s gone wrong doesn’t mean you’ve done something wrong or that there’s something wrong with you. It really doesn’t. The death Jesus went through was as real as his innocence. It’s actually a promise that the pain of trusting him would be just as real too. But that means, so is the resurrection and the new life. There really is another side, that’s stronger than all this put together. That makes us what we were intended to be all along. Something happens to you when you experience that the healing is real. When there are things that you know you can’t come back from. And in a way that is entirely out of your control, you do. Mysteriously. Miraculously. You come back and you are healed and whole and made new. And it had nothing to do with you. You couldn’t have saved yourself, and you didn’t, and death and hell did their worst but God had something else entirely in mind. And nothing was ever going to stop him, even if it stopped you. 

i’ve come to find that it’s not about you, and it never was. you never could win or be strong enough or control enough to overcome the whole world in the first place no matter how hard you could’ve tried. somebody else gave you their strength. somebody else did what you couldn’t do. simply because he wanted to, because that’s who he is, and that’s who he will continue to be. and it lifts the burden. the burden of the consequences of our decisions, good and bad, right and wrong. the burden of life itself. 

So when fear comes in some way/shape/form, it comes to put that weight back on me. Fear threatens that if i don’t close my heart to god&hope, if i don’t take control into my own hands so i can protect me&mine, i won’t make it out of this without taking some serious losses. Maybe I will. Maybe I genuinely won’t. But at this point, that is god’s problem. he’s taken responsibility for me with his life. if this is going to be real, if I’m ever going to know him and be able to feel actually loved, and actually secure, I’m going to have to give him the space to do his job of caring for me his way. He is strong enough that it doesn’t matter what happens to me, if i held a space open for god to be god, if i surrendered to him, everything can be made whole, everything can be made new. even if it has to die first. 

which means i can be free. free to think and care about others since somebody very capable is really caring about me. free to be who he made me to be and do what he put inside me to do with or without doubts and threats. free to be at peace and keep going in the midst of fears. and the more i have simply kept going, kept open, the more places inside of me have been completely made new. and the fears and their consequences, while still very real, have become less and less of a focus, and even less of a hindrance.     

When I look back I think that maybe i am getting the better end of the deal. That I actually already got way more than I could have ever gained myself by trading my heart for his. That he’s not asking this of me for his own selfish/glory-seeking agenda. he’s not trying to make me suffer because he’s bitter that he suffered. He actually loves me. He’s actually trying to protect me because he’s actually a lot better at taking care of me and knowing what i actually need than i am. 

  fear doesn’t stop death. it stops life. 

and it has nothing to do with you. if and when healing does come, you know full well it didn't come from you. You couldn't have faked it or conjured it up even if you'd wanted to, because the hell and death were all too real.

most days challenges come to this lifestyle of trust. in one way or another. they come when i am out of food, because i spent my time and money doing what i felt god wanted me to do, instead of providing for myself. i have found that my fear is not so much with going hungry, however unpleasant it is. the fear that is hiding behind it is that suffering means i can’t trust god to care for me. not in a real way. the pain/death/growth comes in the tension of believing the fear, taking control and closing my heart to god so i can protect myself and heal my wounds vs. staying open and letting it hurt til it kills me because apparently this is the better way and what jesus does and i already signed up for this.Then I think, if this is going to be real, if I’m ever going to know him and be able to feel actually loved, and actually secure, I’m going to have to give him the space to do his job of caring for me his way.

"whenever your experience doesn't match up with your expectation, God is trying to give you a revelation of who he really is... Jesus was rarely recognized, He is more often revealed."

Why not just use the strength that you have to cover yourself and do what you know how to do to protect yourself?

added a completely unpredictable and in many ways unknown element to the equation. There is the prospect that now there is this space that you absolutely need filled, and what if god doesn’t care? or he’s just busy? or not even real?! 

” Somewhere in my learning how to know God and how to love God while continuously trying to stay alive, I came to some serious frustrations. I realized I couldn’t be in control anymore. 

That has to go to as deep a place as it can find and wrap itself around love. But not giving love. Receiving it. 

i don’t necessarily feel full of faith when i choose not to be crippled by fear. i find that my nature is to turn to power & control when i was afraid. 

Do something different, become stronger, smarter, richer, hit back. By controlling my surroundings or trying to be more powerful than whatever is against me. And the thought/lie, is that if I’m just powerful enough or far away enough from what’s hurting me I will be untouchable. Immune to fear. When in reality, I will have become trapped and controlled by fear. 

[weirdohippiefreaky]

Freedom, Freedom, Freedom, OY!!

Right, so on 7/3 I was in Target after work. I get a call from Dawn. It started as a normal conversation. What time I was getting the boys to go into Philly, what they need, what I should pack, etc.  She then tells me to watch what I email to the email address I used to open Kevin’s Tablet, because there was a photo in one of her. The one topless photo she let me take.  I was so embarrassed. I couldn’t believe I was stupid enough to send it from the RIGHT email address TO the ONE address she would have access too via Kevin’s tablet. She was shocked to see it. She seemed shocked I would even want it, because I hate her so much (she doesn’t get the way men think...like, at all). We started to have a serious talk about us for the first time in months, covering the usual topics while avoiding the triggers (which means not discussing most topics). We talked about her seizure and how she now admits that it was probably caused in part by not eating or sleeping at the time.  Something that I said from the beginning which she got all pissed at me for saying. She said it was something she had to figure out for her self.  I then brought up another reason I was so upset Monday night after Therapy (the initial cause of the conversation).  I remembered Missy told me Dawn blamed ME for said seizure. Dawn freaked out when I said that, saying that Missy almost had our children taken away due to her addiction and she doesn’t care what she said.  Plus, she can’t defend herself against things a proven liar says (ironic way to put it) and please don’t bring up anything Missy told me she said to her. “I thought she was my friend” she put it. In other words, she didn’t deny it, just doesn’t want to have to face me now knowing that I know all the dark secrets she told her. I have no way of knowing what is true and what was said to just keep me mad at Dawn. Like how she never really wanted to marry me in the first place, but only accepted my marriage proposal because “society expected her too” or some such nonsense. This one I believe Dawn said...because it really does sound like something she would say.  Missy also told me she had multiple affairs that I didn’t know about. This one I do kind of take with a grain of salt. She did do a lot of speculating and make a lot of exaggerations. Plus, she really wanted me to stay mad at her. Oy. In any case, I’m not an idiot. Naive?  Oh yes.  But, I know Dawn just doesn’t want to have to face the music knowing that I know pretty much every shitty thing she did (without proof though). It’s ok.  It really doesn’t even matter at this point. 

   Skip ahead to the early evening of the 4th of July. The boys and I dropped my father off at the folk festival to set up his tent. Dawn met us at the house. The boys got hair cuts, we went to Target (Nathaniel laughed at pointed at the manager, a tiny dwarf woman, which embarrassed the hell out of us and I had to yell at him). We had dinner at Red Robin. Dawn was absolutely about to have a melt down at any second. The boys were their usual rambunctious selves.  Running around, knocking things over, Nathaniel periodically crying after Kevin got too rough. She was visibly shaken at Red Robin with their shouting. She said she can feel all the stares and judgement from strangers.  That they don’t judge fathers the same way (which is probably true). I wasn’t shaken by it. We were in a family friendly place with high ceilings and a lot of space. Red Robin is well equipped to handle spirited youngsters. She had the look of panic pretty much the whole time. We get home and she asks about my text stating I miss her sometimes. She said she thought I was coming around to her point of view, which was we never made a good couple. “you said you missed me.  I’m right here”. I was all “you know I didn’t mean we weren’t spending enough time together”  I said that I missed the companionship. She acted surprised that I felt that way, as she didn’t make a good companion for me.  Which is true. I am always so sure to word everything carefully as to not make her head explode with anxiety. I already had it in my head that I was only going to bring up the controversial parts of the past if she pressed me on the topless pic (”oh, you’re embarrassed by the pic and are afraid I might share it with my friends?  Well, why can’t I?  I mean, I just want to know what they think.  You know...the same reason you shared my list of improvements to Ian.  Not to be mocked and laughed at, no. Just so he could give an unbiased opinion.  riiiiiiight”) But, she didn’t bring it up.  We talked about our failings, on the role models we both had for marriage. Her folks split up, fought and hated each other for over 3 decades.  Her mother is still pissed at her father. My folks probably would be still married to this day had my mother not died. Happily married?  Not a chance. I was telling her about this...about how my attitude was that you tough it out.  She suddenly interrupted me and said she had to go.  I said “I thought you wanted to talk about this.  You brought it up!” “I know, but it feels like you’re making me out to be the bad guy for not wanting to be in a marriage I was unhappy in” Funny.  She totally IS the bad guy in my (and pretty much everyone else’s) eyes in most aspects.  But I actually wasn’t meaning to paint her that way in this case. I explained to her that I was just telling her my thought at the time and why divorce was something I thought should be an absolute last resort. I explained how I was pretty much willing to tolerate almost anything (the qualifier “almost” is key here) because this was how I thought it worked. At least I figured out while I was with Missy that she and I were never a good couple. I was unhappy with her constant fighting, fight provoking, clingy-ness (only not in a sweet “I love you and want you near me” kind of way. More like “your free time will never belong to you, but be spent taking care of the boys while I go do whatever” kind of way), constant double standards, all the trash talking about other people, no sex, etc. This is not even counting the obvious other things post Sparke.  She said she thinks I was so mad because I never got the chance to make it up to her after I found out what was wrong. That, of course, is only a fraction of what I was pissed about...a part I am no longer really that pissed over. She still has major delusions as to her value in my eyes.  She still thinks that I think of her as this prize that I was denied and now I’m sad because I can no longer have her as my woman. Her inability to handle any pressure makes it impossible to have a real conversation about what I think.  Not that it really matters at this point. 

   She still freaked out and abruptly left, leaving me feeling weird.  I texted her later with a better explanation as to what I meant by missing her. I miss waking up next to her, I miss watching TV with her feet in my lap as we laugh and make mystery science theatre 3000 like sarcastic comments to what we’re watching, I miss the deep conversations, I miss parenting together, I miss thinking about and buying her little unique gifts that I know she would love.  I also miss seeing her naked and giving her a good hard pounding. That part I didn’t include though.

[leakedinlondon]

Hey Courtney I'm going on my first over seas flight in 5 days time (like 20 hours or something with a brief lay over???) and I'm in desperate need of book recs. 21 year old female I like Harry Potter, dystopian future stuff, gay stuff especially wlw and also really love shitty cheesey light hearted stuff like Janet Evanovich. Would love your opinion!

tragically, i hav not read a lot of wlw books bc i’m a picky bitch about genres and a lot of the ones i know about are realistic fiction which i ain’t big on but i do recommend checking out Malinda Lo i rly like Adaptation which features a bi love triangle and aliens and has a part where some dude is talking about aliens and just starts humming the x files theme and that dude is me also i have heard v good things about Ash and Huntress but my bookstore doesn’t sell them and i’m like???? why

ok SO i hav a v v long dystopian masterpost if ur down to go through it but i’ll give u my faves from it here!!!!

Chaos Walking by Patrick Ness

Prentisstown isn't like other towns. Everyone can hear everyone else's thoughts in an overwhelming, never-ending stream of Noise. Just a month away from the birthday that will make him a man, Todd and his dog, Manchee -- whose thoughts Todd can hear too, whether he wants to or not -- stumble upon an area of complete silence. They find that in a town where privacy is impossible, something terrible has been hidden -- a secret so awful that Todd and Manchee must run for their lives.

these books!!!! are everything!!!!! if you haven’t read them u 100% should i swear they’re so fkn good

Unwind by Neal Shusterman

The Second Civil War was fought over reproductive rights. The chilling resolution: Life is inviolable from the moment of conception until age thirteen. Between the ages of thirteen and eighteen, however, parents can have their child "unwound," whereby all of the child's organs are transplanted into different donors, so life doesn't technically end. Connor is too difficult for his parents to control. Risa, a ward of the state, is not enough to be kept alive. And Lev is a tithe, a child conceived and raised to be unwound. Together, they may have a chance to escape and to survive.

i would die for Lev literally die for him at any given second this is also a very good series

The Passage by Justin Cronin

An epic and gripping tale of catastrophe and survival, The Passage is the story of Amy—abandoned by her mother at the age of six, pursued and then imprisoned by the shadowy figures behind a government experiment of apocalyptic proportions. But Special Agent Brad Wolgast, the lawman sent to track her down, is disarmed by the curiously quiet girl and risks everything to save her. As the experiment goes nightmarishly wrong, Wolgast secures her escape—but he can’t stop society’s collapse. And as Amy walks alone, across miles and decades, into a future dark with violence and despair, she is filled with the mysterious and terrifying knowledge that only she has the power to save the ruined world.

haven’t gotten around to reading the last book in this series yet but they are seriously epic like i swear this series is something else entirely

Maggot Moon by Sally Gardner

What if the football hadn’t gone over the wall. On the other side of the wall there is a dark secret. And the devil. And the Moon Man. And the Motherland doesn’t want anyone to know. But Standish Treadwell — who has different-colored eyes, who can’t read, can’t write, Standish Treadwell isn’t bright — sees things differently than the rest of the "train-track thinkers." So when Standish and his only friend and neighbor, Hector, make their way to the other side of the wall, they see what the Motherland has been hiding. And it’s big...One hundred very short chapters, told in an utterly original first-person voice, propel readers through a narrative that is by turns gripping and darkly humorous, bleak and chilling, tender and transporting.

this book broke my damn heart and ruined my life but oh my god it’s so good also a lil gay but like i said sad but it’s more 2 do with the setting like.... it doens’t have a happy ending but it felt right like that?????

More Than This by Patrick Ness

A boy drowns, desperate and alone in his final moments. He dies.Then he wakes, naked and bruised and thirsty, but alive.How can this be? And what is this strange deserted place?As he struggles to understand what is happening, the boy dares to hope. Might this not be the end? Might there be more to this life, or perhaps this afterlife?

this is my favorite book!!!!!! i would die for it!!!! i want to buy enough copies to fill an entire room of my house so i can just sit in it and cry!!!! this book is literally everything!!!! also gay!!!! she’s also sad but like...... i cannot express in words how much u need to read this damn book 

Bird Box by Josh Malerman

Something is out there, something terrifying that must not be seen. One glimpse of it, and a person is driven to deadly violence. No one knows what it is or where it came from.Five years after it began, a handful of scattered survivors remains, including Malorie and her two young children. Living in an abandoned house near the river, she has dreamed of fleeing to a place where they might be safe. Now that the boy and girl are four, it's time to go, but the journey ahead will be terrifying: twenty miles downriver in a rowboat--blindfolded--with nothing to rely on but her wits and the children’s trained ears. One wrong choice and they will die. Something is following them all the while, but is it man, animal, or monster?

another one of my all time faves!!!!!! i don’t even know what to say this is a masterpiece

ok so here we move on to the more fantasy and gay stuff these are less sad 

Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

Ketterdam: a bustling hub of international trade where anything can be had for the right price—and no one knows that better than criminal prodigy Kaz Brekker. Kaz is offered a chance at a deadly heist that could make him rich beyond his wildest dreams. But he can't pull it off alone...A convict with a thirst for revengeA sharpshooter who can't walk away from a wagerA runaway with a privileged pastA spy known as the WraithA Heartrender using her magic to survive the slumsA thief with a gift for unlikely escapes Kaz's crew are the only ones who might stand between the world and destruction—if they don't kill each other first.

this is.... so good.... also a little gay... hav heard the second book in the series is gayer but i haven’t read her yet

Carry On by Rainbow Rowell

That's what his roommate, Baz, says. And Baz might be evil and a vampire and a complete git, but he's probably right. Half the time Simon can't even make his wand work, and the other half, he sets something on fire. His mentor's avoiding him, his girlfriend broke up with him, and there's a magic-eating monster running around wearing Simon's face. Baz would be having a field day with all this, if he were here - it's their last year at Watford School of Magicks, and Simon's infuriating nemesis didn't even bother to show up. Carry On is a love letter to love stories and the power of words - to every 'chosen one' who ever had more on their mind than saving the world...

this book is literally just harry potter but gay and i’m still laughing i love it

A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness

The monster showed up after midnight. As they do.But it isn’t the monster Conor’s been expecting. He’s been expecting the one from his nightmare, the one he’s had nearly every night since his mother started her treatments, the one with the darkness and the wind and the screaming…This monster is something different, though. Something ancient, something wild. And it wants the most dangerous thing of all from Conor.It wants the truth.

can u tell i’m a fan of patrick ness i’m going to fucking fist fight him for this piece of shit like.... this book.... is about a little kid..... whose mother has cancer....... like u know it’s gonna be a fucking bad time but u read it anyway and u cry like a fucking baby but u enjoy the whole damn thing because u hate urself.... it’s a beautiful read but it hurts (((also yes there is a Literal Monster hanging around))

The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater

Every year, Blue Sargent stands next to her clairvoyant mother as the soon-to-be dead walk past. Blue herself never sees them—not until this year, when a boy emerges from the dark and speaks directly to her. His name is Gansey, and Blue soon discovers that he is a rich student at Aglionby, the local private school. Blue has a policy of staying away from Aglionby boys. Known as Raven Boys, they can only mean trouble.But Gansey is different. He has it all—family money, good looks, devoted friends—but he’s looking for much more. He is on a quest that has encompassed three other Raven Boys: Adam, the scholarship student who resents all the privilege around him; Ronan, the fierce soul who ranges from anger to despair; and Noah, the taciturn watcher of the four, who notices many things but says very little.For as long as she can remember, Blue has been told by her psychic family that she will kill her true love. She never thought this would be a problem. But now, as her life becomes caught up in the strange and sinister world of the Raven Boys, she’s not so sure anymore.

the description of this book doesn’t do it justice and i hate it i love these books i love my stupid raven kids i mainly love adam parrish who i would die for in a second ((also gay)) ((please read them if u haven’t i love adam so much he’s worth it)) ((the other characters are also amazing and i lov them too))

The Darkest Part of the Forest by Holly Black

Children can have a cruel, absolute sense of justice. Children can kill a monster and feel quite proud of themselves. A girl can look at her brother and believe they’re destined to be a knight and a bard who battle evil. She can believe she’s found the thing she’s been made for.Hazel lives with her brother, Ben, in the strange town of Fairfold where humans and fae exist side by side. The faeries’ seemingly harmless magic attracts tourists, but Hazel knows how dangerous they can be, and she knows how to stop them. Or she did, once.At the center of it all, there is a glass coffin in the woods. It rests right on the ground and in it sleeps a boy with horns on his head and ears as pointed as knives. Hazel and Ben were both in love with him as children. The boy has slept there for generations, never waking.Until one day, he does…As the world turns upside down, Hazel tries to remember her years pretending to be a knight. But swept up in new love, shifting loyalties, and the fresh sting of betrayal, will it be enough?

Hazel is literally me okay there is a scene in this book where she’s at a fairy party and u kno how ur not meant to eat or drink anything fairies give u or ur fucked???? hazel ingests fucking fairy wine bc it was in the mouth of some fairy girl she was making out with and if that isn’t me i don’t know what is (((also that’s the only scene that she shows any interest in girls i am very sorry i don’t want to get ur hopes up))) ((ben on the other hand he is very gay and is also me they are both me i love these two idiots this book just makes me really happy)) 

[thesylvalining]

The last supper — in the morning. So that would be… breakfast. Left to right: Lauren, yours truly, Ashton, Bonnie, Noah and Brandie.

To be exact, it’s been 103 days — and we’re not talking about the anniversary of a certain tangerine-tinged President. No; it’s been 104 days since January 9th, when Tyler and I officially filed for divorce. As I write this, he’s just arrived in Panama with his new girlfriend (and it’s not exactly breaking news). His new girlfriend is an old friend of mine, someone I once trusted with my doubts and fears and formerly one of my good back country skiing and bike touring buddies.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel angry, hurt and doubly betrayed. I’d also be lying if I said I hadn’t given into my anger once or twice and said things I might regret in time. But what’s the saying? I want to be nobody, because nobody’s perfect.

I’d also be lying if I said I wasn’t grateful for those eleven years. Or for the countless adventures — local and international, on a bike or on skis. It would be a giant fib to say I didn’t learn, grow, laugh and even thrive with Tyler.

But the end of it all isn’t what I want to dwell on as I sit waiting for the dishwasher and the dryer to stop on my last morning in Dillon. Instead, I’d like to gnaw on the nuggets I’ve unearthed in these eleven years, the seeds of wisdom the Universe planted in me.

I’ve had long enough… so what have I learned?

The Universe wants us to be happy.

Over and over through these hard times, as I made myself available to and asked for reassurance from whatever up there knows what’s going on, I have been given what I petitioned for and more.

Take Friday as a shining example of what I mean. I’d spent weeks packing up all my sh*t (how on Earth or whatever dusty corner of the galaxy did I accumulate so much? I landed in CO in 2005 with a bike and a suitcase, for goodness’ sake). Friday, April 21st was the culmination of Operation Move Sylva: we’d hitch up Lindsay’s trailer, head down to Denver, drop my car off at the mechanic for new brakes, unload the trailer at the storage unit, eat some lunch, drive the trailer over to Lindsay’s wholesaler and load up flowers (she owns her own increasingly successful flower biz, Pots and Petals), retrieve my car, unload it at the storage unit, drive back up to Dillon, unload flowers and crash face first on our respective beds.

So — after weeks of weather so unseasonably warm and nice it was almost boring — it snowed heartily the night before. And those wicked, cold little white things persisted from the skies into the morning.

Just a few last minute adjustments…

As the wind whipped snow in our faces, Lindsay and I loaded up the last bits of furniture I needed four arms for. When Ashton arrived we headed down to the Dirty D.

Everything went smoother than Justin Timberlake’s hip-hop harmonies (I had to work that in since a hungover Jizzy Tizzy and Jessical Biel visited the Arapahoe Cafe yesterday morning) until we departed the Yardhouse in Arvada with full bellies. Back on 1-70, Lindsay merged left to prepare for the joys of I-76. A blue CRV in front of us slammed on their brakes for no apparent reason. Lindsay slowed down abruptly but she had more than adequate room between us and Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb. The lady behind us did not; a sharp bang and a solid impact was quickly followed by the sound of dragging metal on pavement.

“We lost the trailer,” said Lindsay matter-of-factly, pulling over to the left shoulder.

Then ensued the joys of insurance swapping and waiting for police on the side of a very busy Interstate. Semis whizzed by like stinky comets as I eyed the Jersey Barrier I leaned upon, ready to jump it like an Olympic hurdler if anyone else on I-70 decided to cause mayhem.

In my periphery, I see two figures running up the road — one tall and dark haired, one curvy and shorter, with shoulder length hair tousled by the chilly breeze. I blink; it’s Matt and Erica, two good mutual friends of mine and Lindsay who live in Summit County, too!

Zagorstmans to the rescue!!!!!!

“I saw your rainbow hair!” Erica said, wrapping me in a burrito hug. “I was like stop! That’s Sylva!”

What are the odds Erica and Matt would be zipping by just after (a very sweet girl in cowboy boots) rear-ended us?

And furthermore, what are the odds Erica would have ample nylon webbing for Matt to produce a series of adept knots that looked more like hyacinth blossoms than anything that would, in the end, get us, the flowers and the trailer all safely back up to Dillon? Without that fortuitous roadside rendez-vous, Lindsay, Ashton and I would probably still be waiting on the side of I-70 for a tow…

Shortly after Matt finished his roadside art project, one of the police officers walked by with an amused glance and said, “Good ’nuff for me!” HAHAHA.

2. Learn to let go

The other day at the doctor, the physician’s assistant who took my vitals asked me if I was a professional athlete — my oxygen saturation was 98 percent. I laughed but she was serious. I mean yeah, I skin the Basin semi-obsessively these days but I also eat cream cheese-infested bagels like tomorrow’s my last day on Earth and practically soak in a pool of stress (which is ending once I get on the plate to Italy this evening!). I told her I think maybe it’s because I have never taken so many deep breaths in such a short period of time — it’s how I manage most of my tough emotions in the moment. It’s how, breathing out, I can start to let go.

For a lot of us — myself included, and those of you who know my extensive wardrobe know the truth — even parting with stuff is hard. We always mean to go through our closet and give away enough unused clothing to cloth a Laotian village. Or part with our back up pair of beat up early season skis, the books growing ant-sized, dust stalagmites… and do we really need seventeen jackets? Maybe…

Rar! Shoulda got rid of more crap!!!!

Material crap aside, try letting go of an eleven year chapter of your life, a life partner, a best friend. It’s not entirely easy and like many hard lessons, it occurs in painful increments. Occasionally, I feel like I’m emotionally stuttering, unable to move past anger, or sadness or pain. But I know if letting go is all I can master through this, it will be worth it. And even the little whiffs of letting-go-ness I catch are oddly uplifting, stabilizing and above all: freeing. Especially with a lot of deep breaths!

3. We are never alone — but we are enough.

Popular culture would suggest to be complete, we need another. Look at every Disney movie ever penned, listen to the radio where the singer croons about having found a reason to live after meeting the girl or guy of their dreams. Take “All I’m Asking” by Band of Heathens, as an example (a ditty, incidentally, that is catch enough to have made it to my road trip playlist — Sylva’s Free Bird Mix)

“My mind is right for the first time

I found a reason, I figured out the round

If you let me, I’ll do better

Maybe next time, we’ll be together”

After awhile the tune gets lodged in your brain like a treble-cleft shaped dart — and so does the insinuation that we’re not whole until we are in a couple. Being with someone can be magical, but it’s not paramount to our sense of self.

Newsflash: We are already enough. I am already enough.

Even for an independent soul like myself, after more than a decade with someone, I had to wrap my little pea brain around a few key points: I am capable of accomplishing anything I set my mind to and even if I felt lonely sometimes that didn’t mean I was alone. Au contraire; during these 104 plus demanding days, people have literally sprung from the woodworks to help, encourage, listen and be there in ways I could not have appreciated if I were in  another space in my life.

Teamwork makes the dreamwork!

4. Nothing is Final

On a recent trip to Moab, Utah with the parental units, I was given the opportunity to say my goodbyes to the desert — at least for now. Thanks to my parents’ Old Fogie Pass ($10 for the whole year), we flitted around Island in the Sky National Park for a whole day. I sunburned my calves and took a billion pictures (which, incidentally, I just accidentally deleted — I had to take a deep breath and practice letting go!).

Viewpoint one at the somewhat mysteriously formed Upheaval Dome — the meteor theory is currently winning.

Heading towards the second viewpoint at Upheaval Dome.

Stopping to “admire” the world’s most obnoxious rock cairn :)

The parental units at a windy Mesa Arch.

As I looked across the endless vista, past white sandstone rims, red Kayenta cliffs and Moenkopi waves, I got a strong whiff of cheese. Why? Because I happened to be thinking, as I often am these days, that time heals all wounds (and produces breathtaking desert landscapes). I was also pondering how change is the only thing that stays the same  And therefore, nothing at all could be final — so all the goodbyes rolling constantly off my tongue were more like catch-you-on-the-flip-sides. I’d see the desert again if I wanted to; heck, I could even move back to Slummit if I felt like it (which, I have an inkling, is a nudge closer to improbable).

None of us is ever stuck or nailed to the floor by any decision. Our futures are reversible, malleable. Even the most gargantuan problem can be solved, if only we are able to see it as solvable — which brings me to:

5. Everything is possible — even the “impossible”

During the last four plus months — going through a divorce, suddenly alone, moving to Oregon, packing, trying to stay in shape and connect with friends, working six days and a night or two a week, fighting sinusitis and food poisoning — I began to feel the cold fingers of despair creeping up my pasty legs. This was impossible! Especially faced with a to-do list that looked more like the US Constitution:

If feeling brave: see reverse for the other half of The List…

But as of last night, I climbed A Basin in 54 minutes (just four minutes shy of my record), my crap is all packed in storage, my list is checked off, my catch-ya-on-the-flip-sides are said (mostly via a kickass party on Wednesday night), I’ve saved as much money as possible and I feel strong, independent and free!

It’s like they say — small steps to a big goal. I’ve never been one for goals, except in the rare occasion I kick a soccer ball. But then again, nothing is impossible: I’ve just accomplished more than I ever imagined several months ago!

  Although I have more to share, I’ll leave it there in order to cruise down to Denver and hang out with my uncle Benjamin. This evening, I’m hopping aboard a plane to skip the pond. Tomorrow, I’ll be standing in the rain, growing webbed feet with my friend Lisa as we hike and camp in Northern Italy’s Apennine mountains…

Ciao for now Summit County!

Ski ya later…

100 Days… And Counting To be exact, it's been 103 days -- and we're not talking about the anniversary of a certain tangerine-tinged President.