These past few months, I have actually spent a goodly amount of time on my own.  Time I spent studying or just hanging out at the Compound by myself, or as much by myself as one can be at a place dubbed The Compound.  But as I have previously noted on this blog, there is a huge difference between choosing alone time and being alone because familiar faces and close relationships are not available, as in no where close by. 

I figure I will survive the transition.  I mean I am beginning my sixth year of this leaving my loved ones and arriving at my other life far from here.  Other folks with different dispositions and personalities would have made friends quicker than me and there are many people who are more flexible who would have adapted and flourished with their adventures versus my slow pace of shifting my compass.  But I am not the other, I am me.  For better or for worse.  For richer or for poorer.  I am just me, myself, and I. 

One of my Alaskan friends cannot really understand my lack of enthusiasm over the upcoming process of finding a new place to live.  She has moved many times and has retained her excitement for the search for the 'just right' next abode.  I wish I could siphon some of her high energies for my endeavor. 

The truth is, however, that I will rise to the occasion.  I will take the necessary steps to locate that next wonderful place to live (thank goodness for Craigslist).  I will figure out my way around the Big City.  I will take and pass my national exam.  I will begin my postdoctoral position and do just fine.  I will continue to be in relationship with my family, even from a far distance.  I will find pleasure in the people and place around me.  I will.  I will definitely figure it all out.  or as much of whatever can be deciphered.

A year ago I made a different big change.  I moved from a very private blog that was only open to a few family members and friends to another blog provider/server and a more open forum.  The change was brought on by my growing desire to write about broader topics that might not be as interesting or appealing to the limited readership.  The topics included my experiences, curiousities, and continuing identity as a Korean adoptee, issues of race and racism, social class, and the meaning of belonging and mutliple identities that included my membership in the Queer community.  I did not envision, nor have I created, a blog that explores these topics in an academic and/or research style of discourse.  Instead at the time, I wanted to grow a connection with other Korean adoptees with the ultimate goal in that area to grow in my own personal insights and awareness of what being an adoptee meant/means in my life as well as share my experiences with others whose experiences were similar. 

Overall, I made the change to a more open public blog to see what might happen, what would come of the bold move.  Thus far, I have enjoyed the process, mostly.  There have been days when I felt varying degrees of guilt from not posting daily or regularly enough and/or not having scintilating or even close to interesting to a broader audience posts; blog envy of those other  bloggers whom I perceived to be much more dedicated, electronically knowledgeable and interesting; and, occasional why bother to post/who cares anyway thoughts. 

Other than the new look to my blog page, I am not planning on altering the course any time soon of content or style.  I have some ideas, on the back burner for now, of what I might want to do in the future with either this blog or a different one altogether, but enough awareness to understand that presently I do not have the available time nor the free'ed up mind space or energy to endeavor a more challenging blog.  So for now, my little blog and I will continue to post on a semi-regular basis about the everyday life of me and my small universe of curiousities. 

I have appreciated, most, the opportunity to meet other bloggers and have benefited greatly from their/your blogs, comments left on mine, and their/your camraderie.  I have been comforted, cheered on, and challenged to expand my ways of thinking and I appreciate the readership, the entertainment, and the opportunities to meet and connect with other folks who are consciously living their/your lives. 

I am excited to see where the next calendar year will lead us, individually and collectively, and what I/you will bring to the table to discuss, rejoice and commiserate over.  Happy New Blogging Year!

Yesterday my niece and I made our sometimes annual pilgrimage to the Land of the Blues, the place south of here in a little hamlet snuggled in right at the base of Mount Alyeska, the Land of Ski'ing and Snowboarding Delight.  Now there are multiple sites all around the hereabouts that qualify, highly qualify, to be called the Land of the Blues.  Some Blue Nirvana locales are high above the tree line on moss covered mountain sides.  Here one finds the low bush blueberries among the mountain moss, alongside bright red low bush cranberries, shiny black crow berries, orangy-red bunch berries, and garnet colored dew berries.  I have spent many a sunny and not so sunny day, hunched over, sprawled out, vertically climbing but always picking those alpine blues. 

But the sometimes annual blue's pilgrimage of yesterday, is located in a rain forest behind a world class ski resort at the foot of a very tall and awe inspiring snow capped mountain.  I cannot be more specific than that with the locator information.  Well I could.  But as the saying goes, then I'd have to kill you.  Not really.  The location is not really a secret.  Well sort of it is.  Suffice it to say, that my niece and I picked blues till our berry picking hearts' content, in Alaska. 

On the drive south, around the Turnagain Arm we sped by the Cook Inlet's high tide and the rains and the wind started to pick up.  I think nature's elements were welcoming us to our day of Blues chasing with a thunderous ovation.  It is, indeed, the rains that keep the rainforest in this little area south of our fair to middling-sized town, verdently and deeply green.  Deep inside the forest, where we were immediately miniaturized by the trees towering above us, we were protected from the big fat rain drops falling, quite loudly, all around.  Plop.  PLOP.  Thunk.  THUNK.  and then there was the occasional heavy wind gusts that would blow through after a period of silence. 

We were probably fifty-percent soaking wet by the first hour and thoroughly sloshing wet by the second from our efforts of slipping, sliding, climbing, hoisting, reaching and plucking among the decidedly wet vegetation of the forest.  But neither my niece nor myself minded.  We did not care that we were wet.  We did care about the Blues. 

Rain forests are so alive.  Little water ways, rivulets of water splash along, making their way to tiny tiny ponds and we try and reproduce the water's soothing musical notes and tones in manmade fountains.  It's not the same, not even close.  In a rain forest, green mosses of varying hues grow everywhere.  On the fallen trees, on the still growing upright trees, and on the ground.  The ferns, are still green and it is the devil's club, this thorny multi-leafed plant that lends autumn-colored shades of yellow to the bright colored scene. 

Soon the little skiing hamlet will be filled with the shouts and whoops and hollers of downhill ski'ers and snowboarders.  The open meadows will be the cross-country ski'ers and snowmachiner's paradise.  After all, this is the Land of the Mostly Frozen North Land.  But for now, at least as of yesterday, this land was the Land of the Blues.

Where will I live?  Will my car, Harvey, be in one piece?  Has he survived his hot days on the street?  Are our belongings intact?  and if they did survive their summer in storage, will they be intact upon delivery?  Will I survive my move in one piece? 

Ahhh, all of these questions and many more will be answered.  In their own way, the answers and outcomes will be revealed.  with time.

Plans for tomorrow, next week, next month.  None of it happening right this very moment.  For in this moment, I sit still (except for my typing fingers) and gaze out my north facing window onto the still very green trees while sounds of a small airplane drone above me.  Another grey and rain showery day of the Alaskan summer. 

Breathe.  Inhale   Exhale.  This is my life.  not in the fast lane.

As you might imagine, we have a stash of must-goes, some accumulated from what initially seemed like Wonderful GS finds of our very own.  What?  You don't want that beautiful zebra lamp made out of wood with a little green shade?  No, I don't.  It seemed like a really good idea last Saturday.  I even pictured it sitting on our double sink along side the beach bum Hippo (from yet another GS).  But you know what?  The zebra lamp was an idea gone bad.  wrong.  Not so much the lamp, it's actually very cute, some might say kitschy.  Nonetheless, the zebra does not want or need to join this famdamily.  So into the GS it will go. 

All of our items, some loved more than others, are priced to go.  So wish us luck in passing on some very desirable, some one-of-a-kind, other not so much in the cute department, items.  Rain is not in the forecast so we're already ahead of the curve.  or put another way, we're cooking with gas now.  or said differently, we're happy as a clam right before the shovel hits its shell.  Not really on the last saying cuz I made that one up, but I think you may receive my meaning.  Just wish us luck with raking in the dough, 'k?

My town is big enough to try and rid themselves of these beautiful birds because they poop, a lot.  They also have been accused of being hazards near the airports.  The gall of these airbourne beauties to fly in the same sky as manmade airplanes!  So the human powers that be have tried all sorts of ridding the town of the geese, without pissing too many of the nature lover's of, tactics.  I can guarantee you that we nature lovers are not the majority.  Most local golfers, airplane occupants, and city park users are applauding the efforts to make the feathered poopers go elsewhere.  Anywhere elsewhere, as in passing onto the other side (as in dead) or by cutting down their populations by robbing their nests of their eggs. 

But a few of the hearty geese have continued to summer over hereabouts and I am luckier for their presence.  But not for much longer as the geese and I will be soon winging our ways south.  South to warmer climes.  South to new adventures.  Some under their own wing power and others (I won't say who) will be flying high above the dirt and water, on our butts.  Either way, we're headed south, soon.

What a difference a good night's rest can make!  Couple that with the day I spent with grandkiddos yesterday and I think the Universe mixed up a recipe for a return-to-a-better-place for yours truly.  I spent some individual time with each of my three grandbabies yesterday and they were such enjoybable company.  Funny, imaginative, full of news, questions, and fancy.  Each of the children are full of energy and love to run and play and be out-of-doors, which pleases me to no end. 

The children helped me move my body and walk about with them even when my interior bring-me-down-and-keep-me-there-voice was saying, quite adamantly, no damnit, I do not want to take a walk.  But walk we did and I am better off for the effort, the fresh air, and occasional sunshine that beamed down on us. 

So here's hoping that I can keep the ball rolling in this more upbeat direction and that I can return to studying and to life in general with more pep in my footsteps.

That's the nature of sunlight, clouds, mornings, and days.  Change.  Shifting of patterns.  Moods that go up and down and down some more.  and then when all seems darkest (like right before the dawn or some such saying) the dappled light and warmth return and the emotional thermometer rises.  Mercurial in their fluidity, emotions.

Yesterday there was the autumn like feel to the air.  Right on time really.  After all, it is is August in the Soon To Be Frozen Again Last Frontier.  But for today, the sun retains its power of heat and has chosen to bathe us, intermittently, with its golden glow. 

Today.  Sun.  Warmth.  Renewing my energies.

Now before you give me a "D" on being observant, please remember dear reader, that I have been studiously studying, as in nose to the bookstone most of the summer, which means that I have not gotten out much.  Also, for the past five years when I have lived here for any length of time, that I have had the definitely widely diverse population of the San Francisco and Bay area to contrast our little town's demographic group.  and that, people, is like a night and day comparison in too many ways to begin to count much less go into at any length, although I guess could expound on the differences in another post. 

But I am keeping this particular post topic streamlined and focused.  Focused on my new realization that there are more brown skinned people here in town.  Woohoo!!  To get the huge-ness of what I talk about, one must apprehend that not so many years ago (as in five), there weren't that many of us brown skinned clans to be seen, indoors or outdoors, in this little Last Frontier town.  I have not yet, but plan to, see what the newest census numbers have to say but really do not need to consult such a reference as I am heavy on the observational end of studies.

I would like to say that I came upon my own ah-ha moment of understanding that there are more people of color living here but that would not be entirely true.  My ah-ha moment was primed by my logically pragmatic and less-emotional-than-myself friend when I was bemoaning my waffling on where to put down roots.  During this conversation, I was decrying the fact of our mostly white homogenous state and this friend was quick to point out that there was much more diversity of race now than when I moved south.  I think I took her point with a grain of salt, remembering how my white friends seem to feel that one person of color among 1,000 white people, creates diversity. 

But then a little while after that dinner, I visited with another friend and was issuing forth the same complaints and whines (I guess I'm lucky to have friends who put up with a whiner) about my where-to-live conundrum.  And this friend, who is brown-skinned like me, quickly told me that things have changed here in the Land of the Midnight Sun and gave me several examples.  By this time there had been enough time between my California experience of everyday lots of diversity in population to my little town Alaska life, and I was able to slap my forehead and proclaim ~ Wow!  There are more folks of color hereabouts.  Hallelujah!  Hallelujah!  Hallelu-u-jah-jah!

So what does this more racially diverse population mean to me?  Well let me list some of the ways ~ added comfortability, a stronger sense of community, a sigh of relief to not be the only customer of color in a busy restaurant, and a growing sense of hope that I could build a clinical practice here and actually work with a diverse clientele.  and those are the perks that come popcorning to the surface without any prodding or even need of a flashcard.

Trying to let go of the blogging should's, you should only post interesting, thought provoking, or funny and interesting diddies.  Sorry folks, I can't seem to muster up any of the above descriptors and yet I want to, am compelled to, am drawn to write and post on my little blog.  So I do what some writers dictate other would-be writers to do, write about something you know, which at this moment is studying for the EPPP. 

And, oh yes, there is the small matter of figuring out where to put down more permanent roots.  and, oh yeah, my SO has now decided to try and figure out what he wants to be when he grows up.  Dang.  Neither one of us has a clue.  I could say we're in trouble now, but really nothing has changed.  We're just two drifters who anchor ourselves with various and varying responsibilities and/or temporary goals. 

You know some writers encourage would-be writers to write about stuff they do not know about with the only cavaet being, to write.  This morning I am following that advice, sage or not, it's my compass for today.  and the stuff that I don't know is much bigger than the stuff that's on my multitude of flashcards.