Darby Strong

Playing point. Delivering the rock.

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What Fertile Soil Can Do for a Gal

The soil is fertile here in the Pacific Northwest, just they way you picture it would be in the world’s largest temperate rainforest. We, as humans, are definitely a part of nature, but it seems to take us quite a bit longer to adapt to our surroundings. At least to the point of feeling settled, like, say, a pine cone can adapt and settle from its former tree to the forest ground.

Perhaps it’s all of the extraneous stuff we bring to the new place; books and beds, couches and chairs, dishes and coffee pots, plus the TV, armed with blankets and pillows and clothes and candles, we arrive to a new place called home with not just ourselves, but our belongings, all looking for a place to be. To settle.

But finally, settle, we have. It has been fairly easy, really. Because people are smart here, across the board. And creative. And open, curious, and interesting. They like to read books, and have decent, if not totally elevated, senses of humor. While I realize this is a huge generalization just longing for pointed fingers to examples of people who do not fit my nicely crafted mold, it seems that the general vibe of the human species here is remarkable. And I haven’t yet mentioned the amazing food, coffee, wine, and general love of music found at every turn. And I mean EVERY turn.

Nor have I touted the amazing natural wonders that is Oregon herself. I have kept quiet about the beauty of our region – the Pacific Northwest, and the endless opportunities for discovery on a natural level.

At times, I feel like I have lived here forever, while simultaneously, it’s as if I am deep inside a dream. Perhaps there IS something to that whole follow your bliss thing. From where I’m perched at the moment, this Campbellian way of life has bestowed so many gifts upon me that I am continuously rendered breathless. So if I am lost in a dream, I beg of you, don’t wake me up.

Our Oregon Trail

As the movers pulled away from our Lowcountry (freshly empty) home Wednesday, it felt like I was watching the scene unfold upon me from outside of myself. It’s still all pretty surreal.

Strangely, I did not feel any attachment to our home of 3 1/2 years; not even to the sanctuary that was our house, which David and I spent many resources remodeling and fine tuning. It is and always will be in a place that doesn’t work for us.

Now, while I sit in an Omaha coffeehouse, it feels so good to be looking forward, having filled myself up with loving friends in Asheville, Cincinnati and Chicago along the way. It’s as if each mile we head North and West, I start coming back into myself, no longer viewing it from a place outside of my own two eyes, heart, and soul. I am becoming whole again, and although it is totally cliche, it is precisely what is happening. I feel like I have a solid footing, which provides me the ability to actually float at the same time.

We have already been treated to harness racing in Lexington, KY, laughing and joy in both Cincy and Chi-town, the most incredible (almost) full moon and sunset winding our way through the amazingly lush Iowan countryside, and now we walk upon the soil that birthed David.

Next, we visit the great Sand Hills of Nebraska, then to Salt Lake City to visit more good friends, then Portland, baby.

We are now among our people, and it feels so good to be back.

Einstein Sure Was Smart

our-flag-e.jpg

I was in Orlando last weekend, amidst the sea of childhood imaginations and restaurant row. I had a great time visiting with David’s parents, and while Orlando isn’t a place I would typically choose to visit, it is the half-way point between our homes, making it a fairly easy drive for both of us.

None of this has anything to do with Einstein, though. But cars everywhere with American flags ablaze next to airbrushed, roaring, larger-than-life Bald Eagles slapped onto the ENTIRE BACK WINDOW of a Chevy 2-ton truck made me think of good ol’ Albert Einstein. So did the one car with 12 American flags of varying sizes, just on its backside.

The reason Einstein comes to mind in the midst of this sea of flag waving is because of this quote:

“Nationalism is an infantile disease. It is the measles of mankind.”

Being appreciative for the fruits ones culture provides is one thing. I love this country, its natural wonders, its ingenuity, and the varying types of Dorito’s I have to choose from no matter where I find myself. I like that I can still basically say what I want, do what I want, and not be persecuted for either. I realize that is not true in many places, and am cognizant of the fact that I might not really even know how great I have it. At least for now…

Still, this idea of blind loyalty and adherence to ones natural born country seems idiotic and short sighted to me. Waving the flag denotes an approval of our most recent actions abroad and abhorrent behavior as a governing body. Our PEOPLE continue to amaze me in so many ways, but our government, which is symbolized – for me – by the flag, has too much egg on its face to garnish this gesture.

It also tends to instill a sort of suprioritysuperiority, too, and besides, ALL the freaky people make the beauty of the world…

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