Little Fish, Big River, Bigger City

So here I am, amidst boxes, goodwill donations and the last few items of my life that I'm either keeping or giving away. I'm cleaning up the "Zen Loft" for its final huge party as I get ready to let go and head out into the great unkown adventure of trekking across the country solo on a bicycle.

I think the greatest thing I've discovered in cleaning out and moving on to the next thing is that I had no idea how many wonderful memories I have had with so many incredible individuals. I've received tons of heartfelt email from so many that means so much to me. I've discovered that it's really true that if you just do small things every day to make the world a better place, that it all adds up.

In a way, it's a small shame that it takes something as cathartic as moving to be able to get in touch with everyone in your life and discover the essence of what they've meant to me and what I've meant to them. I think everyone should get in touch with everyone in their lives and take a moment to say "thank you" or "this is a memory with you I'll never forget." I've done this now and then for the past several years by taking a moment to put into words and tell a few people thank you and letting them know how much they mean to me and they've done the same...but the incredible flood I've experienced in the lasf few days is just inexpressable.

I can only laugh as I consider all that I've achieved and changed the such a short amount of time of the last few weeks. I've gotten in touch with around 1,000 people. I'm hosting a party with around 550+ in possible attendance tonight. I've left my job and am changing careers. I've set the date and will soon be embarking on a 14 year dream to pedal across the continent. I've disposed of every piece of furniture I owned plus I've disposed of towels, bedding and all the material items I simply don't need in life. I feel clean, light and unencumbered by the past. I've sorted, purged and kept only the most meaningful and necessary things for going forward as I start a new life in San Francisco in December. I've received dozens of emails from friends there who I am looking forward to seeing and spending time with when I arrive.

Any one of the above is a semi-daunting task all on its own. Large parties are not easy but oh so fun. Moving is always a big change in one's life. Biking across the country is a monster undertaking. Changing careers is always a defining moment. Ridding yourself of most everything you own is a backbreaking, heart questioning, cathartic task. Saying goodbye to your life of the last six years is both sad and exciting and soul enriching. And to do all of this in just under 21 days is insane, but I'm getting it all done somehow. I feel like I've done more in the last few weeks than I have in the last six years. I keep finding old "to do" lists and as I read over them, I'm able to cross off all the tasks that sat for years but have now been achieved. After crossing off the entire list, I put the list through the paper shredder. ggggrrrrrrrriiinnnnnndDDDDDDDD!!!!!

There's still a lot to go, a lot of pedal turning to be done, a lot of boxing up to take place. But so much has been done that I know I'll get there. i feel as if I'm on an unstoppable roll. I'll be publishing my first book soon. I'm launching a dog treat line to the mass market soon. I'm starting a new job soon. I'm renting a new apartment soon. I'll be seeing miles upon miles of highway all too soon.

My teeth have been cleaned, my blood has been tested and approved, I've had the final laser treatment for removing a tattoo of an old ex-girlfriend's name (yes, another story). The last of my furniture has left the loft. Not much remains except the very essence of who I am and who I wish to be. For the first time in my life that I can remember, I'm completely organized without clutter or unnecessary baggage. My body fat is around 8% and my "life fat" is at a wonderful 0%.

Now that I've dug through the mess and cleared it all out, I have a beautiful canvas of beautifully balanced, bright colors remaining. I feel like a bare and expansive art gallery with shiny wood floors. There is one amazing piece of artwork hanging on the wall with perfect lighting for everyone to view. However, the most important viewer is me. I'm looking at a life's work that I am proud of displaying.

Pride. There's a lot to be said for it. There is nothing, simply nothing quite like being exactly as you want to be and not as you wish to be. Yes, there are still things I wish to do, wish to see, wish to achieve. The "to do" lists will never be done but in the here and now of this incredible moment...I love my life.

Okay so we've all heard it, we know what it means and we know we should do it. Buy low, sell high. Great financial advice. Excellent. And yea, guess what? I started thinking again. Hmmmm...buy low, sell high. Aaahhhh....got it. The OTHER connection. AxL the dog.

I found him in a truck stop. He was half dead, stunk to high heaven. He was greasy, dirty, skinny. I might go so far as to say foul smelling. I think he may have rolled in deer poop for the fun of it on his travels before I found him. As you might know, I picked him up in the middle of nowhere Utah on February 6th, 1992. It was around 3 a.m., I pulled over to get gas while driving to Colorado Springs from Seattle. I was starting a new life after college and the death of my Grandmother who had raised me. And here was this dog. I didn't even WANT a dog, but there he was. Deciding moment...watching him drink water from the oil-slick covered puddles near the pumps. "Okay, okay, okay...STOP!!!!...enough already, DOG! I'll take you!!!"

It was twenty four degrees outside. If you drive at 70 mph with your windows open to keep from gagging, it's even colder. Much colder. So you drive on, alternating between suffocating wild dog stink and frostbite. Roll the windows down...breathe a lot, freeze. Roll 'em up, crank the heat, thaw, gag. Roll 'em down...you get the picture.

Two days, $150 in grooming fees and 6 hours of bathing later, I've got the world's best looking dog. Bar none. Cha-ching!!! I bought low and sold high. Found the fortune of a lifetime. Of course I became a personal assistant/valet in the meantime. I walk behind him, drive him, pick up his (ahhheeemmm) droppings, feed him, comb him, advise him on which collar to wear for what occaision. Perhaps by buying low at a lonely truck stop, AxL sold high by jumping into my car. Turns out, we're both extremely profitable from the merger.

That said, don't you just love those moments in life that are entirely not what you would ever expect? Those things that turn out to be the greatest blessings? How many people have I first met and thought "Oh geeez...." only to find that a week later we have become the closest of friends? How many jobs have I been bummed out about not getting, only to find out later that the person who got it is miserable? Meanwhile I somehow land in the perfect position. I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've DRAGGED myself up out of the comfort of my home to go to some event. Here I go...out with some friend, here or there, when I'm dead tired. Then I find that it was one of the greatest, most memorable moments of my life. I've done it countless times. And in the process of buy low, sell high, I've acquired a vast fortune of priceless friendships, experiences and memories.

Yesiree, I've got an impressive portfolio now from wise investing. I picked up and dusted off a dog no one wanted. I attended things I never wanted to go to. I made friends where others didn't. I sought out difficult situations and tried to make them wonderful and I succeeded. I talked to those who no one would talk to. I learned the names of the people who were ignored. I picked up the penny lying in the street. I bought pizza for the man who sleeps on the sidewalk every night and chatted with him about his name, his past and his greatest dream. (That's another story for another time.)

Okay, so it sounds a bit like bragging here...but that's not my point. My point is...go and look for the buy low opportunity. If everyone else already bought into the "hot thing," it's probably overvalued. Find the diamond in the rough. Polish it. Look for value in something where no one else sees it. I ponder some of man's greatest inventions. The wheel, the airplane, the telephone, electricity, the x-ray, the internet. How many of these were buy low, sell high opportunities for the people who made them happen? Most likely, all of them. Become a value investor. Look for the moments, the friendships, the stray dogs that you can buy low. Nourish them, hold them, encourage them, let them grow in your "life portfolio" until you hit a sell high point.

Wait a minute! What is this sell high stuff here? Not making sense, right...well, it's a stretch mind you, but all things generally come to an end. So, in my odd little world of thinking, sell high to me is when you take that moment to realize the value that you've got from your buy low investment. It's cashing in by counting the blessings and looking back to where you started and where you are now. It's taking stock. Now and then, it's letting go, but more often than not, the value you get is acquired along the way, along the journey. You see, most every buy low, sell high opportunity in life pays dividends that are nearly invisible on your spreadsheet until you take the time to examine them. So take that time, look at your portfolio. Calculate it's worth fully loaded and be sure to add up and include all the dividends you've received along the way. Then calculate out your future net worth because baby, those dividends just keep paying for a lifetime.

Sure, your broker and your friends might tell you a certain opportunity is nothing but a stinky dog with fleas. Well, I'd like to tell you that dogs can be washed.

Last night, I spent some time with a friend who I see about twice a year. Her name is Sarah and she brought me a friendship card for inspiration as I take on my next adventure. It has a quote on the front that is all too good not to be shared:

If someone puts a hot fudge sundae in front of you don't wait until it melts before you eat it.

At first, I chuckled, then I pondered the idea as deeply as one who has an empty freezer can ponder a hot fudge sundae. I thought about how each day is really a hot fudge sundae in itself. How many days just melt away that are full of opportunity to taste the sweet desserts that life offers? If you're like me, you may even spill a bit of hot fudge on your shirt. Heck, life is not perfect but it's still sweet as all get out. When you spill a bit of it while enjoying, spray a bit of stain remover on the shirt, toss it in the wash and keep going.

What are the hot fudge sundaes in life? Hhhmm...good question. Perhaps a bit of counting my blessings is in order here:

Love. Love is definitely a hot fudge sundae. Been there, experienced it, loved it, lost it...but sweet mother it was bliss for the short time I was there until she melted on me. Someday again...yes, someday...I hope to dig into an incredibly decadent love sundae oozing with hot fudge in front of me. I highly advise you to dig into the love sundae if it presents itself to you. Perhaps you have and you know what I'm talking about but if you haven't, don't fear that sundae, embrace it with all you've got. It may not last forever, but for the time you have it, nothing, simply nothing tastes better to the human soul.

Love of a dog is another one. Oh yea....there's nothing like the bond between boy and dog. It's indescribable that two different species can share what boy and dog share. Dogs love you without question despite your shortcomings, despite your income level, despite your physical appearance, despite all that humans can hold against you. Dogs simply don't hold judgements and grudges. Reminds me of a saying: "I will constantly strive to be the person my dog thinks I am."

Friends. Surround yourself with them. The good kind. Wallow in them. Savor them. Treat them with love, caring, kindness as if they were a pint of $1,000,000 Ben & Jerry's. If you've even got one, good, close friend, perhaps even just yourself as a friend is all you need...well, you know what I mean from there. Have a friend sundae. If you don't feel like you have this in your life, take the time to build a friend sundae soon. In fact, skip right over dinner and start dishing out ice cream and add all the toppings. You'll never regret it.

Sunshine, adventure, a roof over the head, food on the table. All things I sometimes take for granted that many don't have. I'm able to sleep warm at night and I've never gone hungry a day in my life. Clothes on my back. Yep. I'm not ugly naked but I'd sure be self-conscious. Thank God for clothing. There's a lot to be said for the sundae of comfortable existence.

Books. Good books are like friends. An author puts something out there and touches your soul without knowing you. Books are amazing. We learn, we grow, we imagine from them. We take parts of them with us where ever we go and who ever we become. You are what you read in many ways. Keep that in mind and keep devouring book sundaes.

Laughter. I've been thinking about the times in life when I have laughed incessantly over some little thing between myself and a friend. Thinking back to those times always return the smile or a giggle. Savor the laughter. Dish it up, scoop it into your life, use two spoons and both hands. Drizzle it all over your table and your chin.

Eyes, Ears, Arms, Legs, Voice, Teeth...got 'em all. Hair on the head to boot. At some point this stuff might go, but the fact that I can type and read this warms my soul. I can hear my guitar when I play. I can walk to the bathroom to brush my teeth. There was a time when I could barely walk after a back surgery. A twenty foot journey to the bathroom would take forty five minutes. And this was after my legs had been "asleep" for nearly ten days with no signs of waking up. I thought I was temporarily paralyzed from the low back down for days, but my legs came back to me. There's nothing like lying in a hospital bed with the uncertainty of not knowing if you'll walk again, if your legs will be dead weight for the rest of your life. The day I felt the doctor pulling on my toes again was a huge, gooey, runny sundae, spilling out of the dish.

Happy tears. Yep, cry with joy. In this day and age of "TV, Hi-tech, go all out and mow down the roses trying to grow along life's highways when you take the fast lane," I think I tend to skip over a few too many roses. Soak up the good stuff, let the tears go. What the heck. No shame in pigging out on the happy tears sundae.

Photos. Wow...huge sundae there. To have pics of the incredible memories of life and be able to look back on them. Wish I could hug the guy who invented the camera. Sushi...enough said there. Blue sky. Nothing compares. Wind, water, the moon. All miracle sundaes.

Come to think of it, I could go on for days on end, listing all the sundaes of life. So I'm just going to stop here with the last one. Sarah, you my friend, took the time out of your incredibly hectic life to find the perfect card and write incredible sentiments of friendship in it. It's a sundae I'll never forget and will try to remember to pass onto others. And so I close with saying that one thing I've always loved about sundaes is that when you get one, they are beautiful on the outside, but even as you dig in, the inner stuff they're made of is what it's all about. Thank you for being a friend, thanks for being my sweet, sweet sundae and reminding me of how amazing my life really is. May karma deliver a dump-truck sized sundae in your life with a boulder-sized cherry on top.

Oh, and that goes for the rest of my incredible friends, too. You know who you are. You're the ones with spoons in your sticky little fingers and drips of hot fudge on your faces.

It was brought to my attention today at how selfish I have been on this "blog" of late. ME ME ME!!! It's all about ME! Yea, nice, huh? And what about AxL? The courageous, lovable ball of fur who is beyond loyal? The only creature who has actually lived with me for 11 years straight and still seems happy even though I give him kibble that tastes like crap each day. Of course, I add in stuff like fried rice, prime rib, salmon, grilled chicken, seared ahi, pasta with marinara, but still, even with frills...kibble sucks.

Yet AxL stays. This hairy angel who has looked after me for so long continues to bravely face each day's challenges. Today, he woke up, then took a nap. You just gotta love the simplicity of the message in that. I love learning from AxL and figured I'd pass along some wisdom from the pedigree I've earned in having a dog:

AxL's Life Philosophy: Be at peace with all things. It's okay to just sit and do nothing. Food is one thing to be excited about while a dog yapping in your ear is not. When you go outside, put your nose to the wind and breathe life deeply. Then do it some more.

If you do it gracefully, aging is not a bad thing. You just have to take your time. You take the elevator instead of the stairs, you drive long distances instead of walking them. When someone shows you affection, feel free to lean on them. Wag your tail when you're happy, but not too much. Just enough to show you're happy and that's all it takes. Begging works. Fetching doesn't make sense. Cats? Whatever...but squirrels are like dreams. You should always chase them even if you don't seem to ever catch one.

Feel free to groan when you lie down. Especially if it's been a long day. Get excited when you get treats. Don't be disappointed when they run out. More will come your way soon. If you live life as if you're a dog, you just keep focusing on what you want. Dogs don't lie about love. Or anything else for that matter. We also don't hold grudges and we don't get down when things don't go our way. We just keep going our way. Sometimes after a nap, mind you.

Your legs might shake when you get older and it gets harder to lift your leg to pee. So what. Just pee straight down. There's no shame in that. Bark here and there. What the heck. Dream happily when you sleep. Feel free to take what you want, including the couch when no one is looking. If you want to go outside at 4:14 a.m., nudge the person who knows how to open the door. If you're determined enough, they will open it for you. Take them along for the walk. Teach them that there is life before dawn to be sniffed and explored. And there is life after every sunset. It's ALWAYS a good time to go for a walk. Even if it means a walk is just to stick your nose outside, take a sniff then take six flights back upstairs to bed.

And someday, you might meet someone. Someone really special, so when you feel that, it's okay to crawl onto their lap with all your weight and let them rub your ears for forty minutes. Yea, that's it...let them really, really know that they're the one you love above all others. And while you're there...don't EVEN think about tomorrow. Oh, and "Yesterday" isn't IN your vocabulary. It has too many letters to bother with, honestly. Let's just talk about NOW. And let's do it without saying a word. Let's talk about this moment by just being silent and enjoying each others' company...If you can talk to me without saying a word, then you've got it down. Oh and...um, well...about those treats on the cupboard, those car keys on the wall, that leash on the hook near the door. Yep...that's it! Now we're talkin'...nudge, nudge, wag, wag. Woof!

So I've spent the better part of this weekend cleaning out, sorting and selling through everything in my loft. On the one hand, it's a daunting task but on the other, it's an incredibly liberating feeling. In a few days, I'll be off to Florida to begin my 3,158 mile plus solo bicycle trip. I have my gear ready, my maps are packed, my spare parts are in order, my loft is subleased. I've scheduled out my final days in Seattle with cleaning, errands, Goodwill drop offs, party planning for a big bash this coming Saturday night, doctor visits, dentist appointments and dinners with close friends to say farewell.

I've learned a lot in the past month and half, mostly about myself. I've faced fears and I've survived. I've found time to make peace where needed. I found I had to be as light in my heart as possible as I'm about to go into the unknown, somewhat prepared but not overly so. I want to let this adventure be open to the tides of chance and risk and uncertainty. I don't know what it will be like to be alone, in the middle of nowhere in a tent the size of a cocoon. I don't know what it will be like to be thousands of miles from all that has been comfort for me. But I do know that at some point over the summer, this wonderful comfortable life began to feel like a repetitive rut of the spirit. As I unload belongings I've carted from home to home for the past 4, 6, 10 years I feel lighter. I feel unencumbered by the past. I feel like a swimmer in the triathalon of life who is no longer wearing jeans, a white tshirt and workboots.

Cleansing oneself is an incredible process. It's like a snowball once you get it rolling. It was difficult getting through the first few things, letting them go, but let things go I have. I've let past regrets go. I've let past hurt go. I've let past reminders of good times go. I learned it's easier to carry the memories than it is to carry a two foot squirt gun that shoots thirty feet that I haven't shot off in four years. I kept waiting for that summer moment when friends and I would have an all-out water war. Turns out, adults just don't do that type of thing very often so it's okay to grow up and pass the toys on to a child. Maybe that's what this is...growing up. As a child, you are limitless within certain boundaries. You can play, act crazy and get away with it. As an adult, your actions have far reaching consequences. Nothing comes without it's own personal price, be that reward or punishment. It's a trade-off. You become more responsible, but the world is more at your feet. As a child, I could do and say as I pleased and people would say, "kids are the darndest things, aren't they?" However, I always had to remain within the yard. Now, the whole world is at my feet. I don't have to stay inside the fence. I don't need to hang onto my toys for entertainment and the comfort of youth. Letting go, growing up, accepting responsibility, living with integrity according to the dreams and plans I've laid out. Wow. The brain reels to think of it.

My friend Ed stopped by tonight and we discussed getting rid of material goods a bit and we both agreed on one point. When you get rid of stuff, you can't even recall what you used to have or what you got rid of or why you needed it. Along those lines,it seems my little spending habit seems has subsided. Buying that little thing in the window I just HAVE to HAVE (!) is now one more thing that I HAVE to get rid of down the road. So why not skip that middle step of owning it, hauling it around, packing it up, unpacking it?

Oh, and then there's furniture. There is something about unloading every piece of furniture you own in order to start over, clean and fresh on a blank canvas. I've always had this image of myself and how I wanted to live. A few tasteful things that I like, a chair, a bookcase, a desk, a bed. I've always been blocked from getting them because I decorated in early American junk up until now. Finally, by letting go and growing up, I can be the person I've dreamed of being, living the clean, simple life I've dreamed of living.

It's a lot like telling the truth. When we lie, we have to cover our tracks with other lies, with false pretenses, with fake images and smiles. When we are just flat out honest, that clutter is gone. When we're honest, we can just be who we wish to be instead of being the person hiding behind lies dreaming of being someone else.

I think there's some bizarre, innate mechanism in humans that causes many of us, or at least me, to hold onto the past as if it were some anchor. We hang onto memories in boxes, we hang onto a pen from Hawaii, we hang onto stuff we bought on a whim because we bought it on a whim, we hang onto lies, we hang onto out of date clothes, we hang onto so much that we find ourselves bogged down, unable to move.

So as I sort through things and consider pulling up my anchor and sailing to the next faraway shore, I think. Then I think some more and a little bit more after that. I ponder bringing along so many things that are nothing but dead weight. I think about bringing along emotions and past mistakes that comfortably beat me up inside day after day, year after year. After all this thinking and a glass of $3.99 Gato Negro Merlot, I have decided to just leave my oversized anchor here. I'm just going to let the chain go. Anchors make a nice foundation for fish and coral to grow on, why not just let mine lie here to be something for someone else?

I untie the line holding my huge, rusty, barnacle covered anchor and all the heavy chain that goes with it. I let it sink into the dark, cold waters where it will eventually be covered in sand, silt, coral and seaweed. I simply don't need it. When I reach the next shore, I'll get a new anchor. A shiny one. One that will keep me grounded in a safe harbor when I need to be grounded and one that will easily pull up and go with me as I sail on each new adventure. Yes, we all need an anchor, something to hold us in place during the storms, but as an adult, we get to choose that anchor and choose wisely we should. I won't simply buy the first anchor I find. I will take my time. I will shop around and I will choose an anchor I love for it's inner strength and beauty as well as it's ability to hold fast and loyal in the darkest of nights, the fiercest tempests or the most powerful winds. I will choose an anchor that can stand the test of time. I will choose an anchor that will proudly ride on the bow of my vessel, caressed by the tropical breezes of a life lived with purpose, daring, integrity and truth. With that, I bid you "Goodbye" old rusty anchor, old worn out memories, old unneeded regrets...all I need is this wonderful boat I'm on with the good stuff: trusty compass, some cherished books, a few photos, some clothes to keep me warm during my travels. Sleep well here where I leave you and thank you for the purpose you served during our time together. I'm sorry that I simply do not have room for you and your heavy chain where I'm going. It's time for me to sail on with no regrets on board. With that, I raise my beautiful white sails and watch as they are filled with the warm winds of happy memories, intent on finding honest white beaches caressed by waves of truthful, strong integrity.