March 9th 2004~

I sit this morning on my couch, looking around the room that has been my home for two years. A home that will pass through me, and into the caverns of my memory in the coming months. How is it, that some memories fade so quickly while others live on with such great clarity? What are these memories anyway? Little pieces of the fabric we call our lives, that cling to our bodies like mist. Lint.

So as I sit here, all of my senses are heightened for I can feel the magnitude of my life changing. It feels like a young bird, taking flight for the first time. Spreading its new and feeble wings, and leaping from the arms of some ancient tree.

The Great Sitting: who would have thought? It became clear to me this last week, that not only was my heart telling me to ride my bike to Maine, but it was also telling me to be open to the idea that I might not be coming back. Life is like that sometimes. Every now and then, we can feel it changing before our eyes; it’s as if we standing on dirt, and watching the earth shift and move beneath our feet. It is blindingly fast, and we must find the courage to hold on. I admit to being terrified of this in many ways for many reasons, but some say that the things we are most afraid of, are the things we should run furiously into; arms spread wide, around our open hearts. I am scared to take a break from music, as it has been at the center of my dreams, my life, for so long. I am afraid that I am making some great mistake, and my "success" with music is just around the corner. Does this mean the orange trees wither and die in the sun? Would anyone care anyway? I am afraid to be without a home, as the last time I was, it had come from a place of darkness and the pain of a broken heart. I am afraid to leave my friends. I am afraid to leave my job. I am afraid of hurling myself into debt, and not finding a way out. I am afraid of being alone. I am afraid that I will feel lost with nowhere to go, and no one to support me when I get to Maine. What the fuck happens then?

But fear, my friends, is only fear. It is one of those things in life that can be completely paralyzing, and can keep us from living fully and finding our truth. So off I go. I simply must trust my heart, as frightening as that may be sometimes. Not to metion the fact, that my joy in this, completely outshines the fear. My knowing that this is my path, is so much stronger than the unknown places i visit. So I sit here, thinking about packing up my things. What will I keep and what will I throw away? Give to friends. I’ve grown rather tired of my "things." I’m feeling like perhaps I should only hold onto that which lives somewhere in my soul. Guitars. Books. Photos. Letters. Music. Art. What else is there really? This bike trip, feels like a light just off in the distance of this relatively dark place I’ve lived for some time. I simply cannot ignore it, as it won’t go away, and it seems to grow brighter by the hour.

So I leap, flying from the edge of the cliff. Faith. What a glorious concept. And who knows where this will all take me? Perhaps I will stay in Maine. Move to France. Spain. Canada. Prague. Back to San Francisco. Life will tell me, if only I have the courage to listen. So much of this, so much of my life right now, is about me having the strength to trust the universe. To listen closely, and live an honest life. As much as I like to think I always do that, I falter more than I’d like to admit. And so, what is this trip? This trip is art.

Many people have suggested that Mike and I would have a better chance at raising money if we had a "cause" of some sort. This sounds wonderful and noble, and terribly important, but wrong for us. I am reminded of the quote "those who are crazy enough to think that they can change the world, usually do;" which says it all to me. If we were to have a "cause" it would be dishonest. We would be doing it only for the hopes of money, and that is just dead wrong. So instead, I view this process as a piece of art. No different than any song I’ve written or any poem, or painting. It is about the process itself, and the movement, and the joy, and the trust. The freedom. I believe, that in that, in this path of trusting and letting go, and sending our silly ideas full of joy out into the universe, we can indeed change the world. That is the cause. I’m not sure how, but I know. Some things in life, will always be without answers, but that doesn’t diminish their truth. Their light. I have cried more in the last month, than I have in some time. I can only imagine that this bloodletting is a good thing, for there are no shipwrecks here.

So I invite you. I invite you to watch and read as this journey of my life unfolds. I invite you to dream and trust your own feeble wings. I invite you to live the life that you know within yourself you are supposed to live, as terrifying as that may be. I invite you to leap. To trust your heart and run to the light. Run with reckless abandon, and limit yourself no more. I feel like i could use the company out here. Here in this bright new place.