Memory Inventory

I have this huge modern age aversion to organizing my photos. I’ll do it, but my back has to up against the wall, whether pictures are busting out of their development envelopes like in the good old days of film, or in this case, my iCloud is full and I need to backup or pay for larger storage. I loathe this task. The last time I did it was in 2018 if that is any indication of my aversion. I have 8000 photos from the last 5 years that need (and indeed have) a home to land in that is not cloud based.

This task brings up all kinds of existential questions for me. What if I put these pictures on my external hard drive and no one ever looks at them, again? I went through the majority of my parent’s photo albums when we were clearing out their house in 2021 and honestly, most of the albums ended up in the trash. My dad took a lot of photos on long work trips of the process of putting up electrical lines across the western U.S. After looking at so many, you get the idea of what was involved and don’t need to sift through the whole box to discover any more. It was a core memory for him though and when we drove across Colorado and moved him to Utah, he was actively reminiscing about that process and I had no doubt that even given his decreased mental state, he did play a part in electrifying that portion of I-70. Obviously it held meaning for him, but what of our future generations will a box full of the same photos of strangers and heavy equipment mean to anyone else? Maybe being a nomad for so long made me less sentimental about holding onto things. Clearing out their house did the same for me. But life captured on a phone is somehow different in my brain.

So now I’m cataloguing our photos of the long traveling journey and some of the time before that up until present day, I’m not going to make physical albums or hang photos everywhere like I have done in the past. They were memories made and reminders of fun times had, but I documented the journey right here in this blog and on social media, I got what I needed out of it, it’s time to free up the space on my phone to make space for new moments that call for documentation. For someone like me who needs those visual cues of what I was doing in September of 2020 for example, removing pictures from my phone feels like I’m erasing my memory. Same goes for emails and texts but those have to be archived or deleted as well. For someone whose family member has dementia this feels very sensitive and tender and if I put that memory somewhere else, will I ever go to access it again? What if I forget?

I was talking about this whole photo conundrum with a neighbor a few months ago, how when we were growing up our parents took photos 12 or 24 at a time over a span of several months or a year. They were documenting the really special moments or highlights of a trip. They’d come home and get the film developed and put the pictures in an album or a box, this didn’t even happen all the time. Sometimes the film never even made it to the developer. My family didn’t have videos or need to be archivists to document family life. Once a year portrait studios were more my mom’s jam. In my own little family Natalie was born on the end of the film era, so she has several albums I put together when I was more diligent and less over documenting of her early years. Camden came in 2010, well into the digital age, and he has maybe one or two physical albums to take into adulthood, the rest of his early years are on CDs that where can you even go to look at anymore, or on Facebook which will that even be relevant to look at in his future. It’s so strange how quickly everything changed once we all had cellphones and the ability to take millions of photos and videos of every little thing.

I guess in summary I’m realizing I need to treat my unused photos a little more blasé and with a little more detachment. They are not the be-all-end-all part of an experience, like if I didn’t take the picture did it even happen? Yes, I get enjoyment out of the process of documenting, but if the archival process is going to be such and arduous chore, maybe I can edit a little more along the way and not go five more years ignoring, dancing around, and subverting this notice…

When Helping Hurts

This blog title comes from a book that was semi-required reading prior to any mission trip travels at my prior church. It is a helpful framework in traveling to developing countries on how to interact, how to level set our expectations, and basically how to not try to impose our ways of doing things or beliefs or values onto others. I think a lot of us get this cerebrally but in practice it is a lot harder.

The past two months we (but I mostly since I facilitated and brought all of this on) temporarily housed someone in our trailer and now that it’s done I have a lot of insight and also, like the title says, helping hurts. It was hard. There were some big missteps and misunderstandings. And frankly I invested way too much of my emotional bandwidth that left me weary and cynical.

The intentions here never wavered. When we were living on the road we were extended extreme kindness from several strangers as well as a church in Farmington, NM. Complete strangers allowed us to park our circus on their property for swaths of time that then allowed us to rest and plan and prepare for the next stop. It was a chaotic time but always grace filled. We were always grateful even if the circumstances weren’t perfect. And we always EXPRESSED that gratitude to our hosts, before during and after the experience. I knew I wanted to pay that hospitality forward when and where I could when the opportunity presented itself.

The opportunity presented itself with this traveler. But I abandoned a level setting of expectations that I should have expressed from the beginning. I’m terrible at setting boundaries and clear plans, so when those are lacking I quickly abandon my sense of serenity, be that around a relationship or a situation. This was the case and it became clear over a month ago that this wasn’t going to be as smooth sailing as we all thought it would be when we first went in. Fortunately, I have a team of friends and sponsor who can help me reason things out. I set a boundary and a deadline for this temporary housing situation to end. The past few weeks have been awkward but honest and we all survived. She left yesterday, the trailer is clean and she was respectful of our space. But I’m sad and disappointed because there was no thank you or real goodbye. Aside from a few conversations between her and I early on about gratitude, there was nothing else. I feel like a sucker who was taken advantage of for showing kindness. I see why people harden themselves off to doing these kind of gestures because we’re all just experiencing life with our hurts trailing behind us and not a lot of tools for collective healing or self reflection.

Would I do it again? Funnily, yes. So I’m not so disheartened or jaded from the experience that I’ve shut my heart to another possible opportunity to help. But I’m not an expert or a social worker so I’d do things vastly different if something like this came up again. Starting with agreeing to clear terms be that exchange of services or rent payments or what have you. I’ll also be more ready with what I can offer more clearly. When we stayed with our farmer friend Roger in Pagosa Springs, we had an hour long phone interview followed by a two hour sit down interview with him as a family to get really clear on boundaries and expectations. Gosh, Roger sure is wise. I can apply new wisdom too while keeping an open heart.

To the traveler, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not having clear boundaries or expectations. I’m sorry for the fluctuations in temperatures as that trailer is not set up for long term living unless you know all of her ins and outs like we do. I thought that since we did it for so long, others could as well, and that turned out not to be the case and it’s on me for not communicating that very clearly from the very beginning. I’m sorry the shower was broken and that the wind blew out the pilot light so many times. So many things in that trailer in the elements are out of my control and every time something happened I felt terribly responsible. Also, thank you with the garden and chicken help during this early spring season. You clearly have knowledge and skills in those realms and i hope you get to keep applying those skills to new situations in your next place. If we ever cross paths again I want you to know we want the best for you and wish you all the good things you deserve. I hope you find the people and things you need to heal. It’s all possible and available. Happy trails to you.

Now onto our actual summer with travel and camping plans and zero drama.

I got lost in the weeds

It’s really been almost two months since my last writing. We’ve all been outside a whole lot (hallelujah!). I’ve been business planning, stumbling, tripping, getting stuck in fear and perfectionism, but I’m aware of that now and ready to step into action again.

I opened my planning notebook and the last day I took any business actions was the end of April. Then I allowed myself to get distracted by all the things; chickens, gardening, my dad’s things, my kid’s things. And on and on. It’s a destructive pattern that I can’t catch myself doing until I pause and recalibrate. Yesterday I plucked a box full of weeds from all over the yard. Last year when we got here there was little weeding to do – it was mostly dry and desolate, making the weeds very manageable and visible. The weeds I’m going after are brambly, all over the place, and once dry will become prickly goat heads. Bike tire killers, annoying to both people and dog feet everywhere. So I’m getting at them while they’re easy to pluck and soft enough to snag bare handed. But while I’m hunting I’m also thinking, (probably too much). About the state of our world, about the precariousness of starting a new business, about borrowing money for that business, about paperwork I still need to do for my dad’s needs, about driving all over the county for the next six weeks for Camden’s baseball, about Natalie starting some jobs this summer and how to shuffle cars for it all to work, about doctor and dentist appointments needing to be researched and scheduled. Like I said, all. the. things.

I got to the weeds for a few minutes this morning again but then had to stop. This goal of eradicating this specific weed in this moment is really keeping me from the work I need to do in pursuit of MY goals. Yes, it’s important, but I need not let it consume large swaths of my day. I need not exhaust my body first thing and then have nothing left in the tank for writing or planning later.

I’ve never been much for the write and schedule block in a planner, but maybe I need to change my mind on this. The things I put in the calendar rarely coincide with my own needs or goals. I have large chunks of day that I largely mismanage in service to the house or someone else. Do all mothers do this? Do all women do this? I thought I was more aware than I am.

The other thing that keeps coming up for my is the cynic who says that all of this effort is pointless so why even try. There are such huge societal issues playing out before our very eyes. We as a country are so sick and obsessed with weapons, more concerned with party over principle, completely numb to the horrors we hear of every single day. It’s exhausting to just be alive. What difference can a little store in the middle of nowhere (somewhere?) make? I could really use some encouragement in this area. The isolation of these thoughts keeps me stuck too. I feel powerless. So tell me reader, what you do to keep moving forward when we are the ones we have been waiting for.

Embracing Becoming a Generalist

It’s been a few weeks since sitting down to capture some thoughts. This podcast https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/mind-body-and-soil/id1615122217?i=1000604087792 … always gets my writing juices flowing so here I am again after a good listen. As for the title of this post, a more self deprecating phrase we’ve said as generalists over the years is “Jack of all trades, master of none”.

I’m very much in a similar rut of what I posted last month. I’ve come to embrace it as my mud season. More metaphor, but hang with me. A fellow writer I’ve recently started following http://jamesapearson.com…describes it as the gap between winter and spring where there is no clear path and every step feels heavy and uncertain. We are here both physically and theoretically as we trudge through the literal shit (manure) we’re trying to spread through the backyard to build soil, and emotionally as I do the deeper work of inner healing and connecting with my younger selves. Do not do this work alone, you’ll lose your muck boots in the depths of the sludge. I’m grateful for a support network helping me to navigate my own traumas and explore my forgotten childhood as well.

Back to the generalist idea though. We’re in a pre-spring kind of whack-a-mole place with our homesteading and store plans. I announced the thing but am currently stuck in the mire of all the details. I can see where I want to be months or even years from now, but there is not a clear path and my inner compass is skewed because I haven’t been to this place before.

Homesteading requires a highly sustainable level of DIY and I’m still a novice in a lot of the areas needing my attention. Earlier this week for example, I had an ongoing text and phone thread with a soil guy about cover crop and testing soil samples, got a new internet router installed but was not able to connect (fortunately Zach was the generalist here and got us online when he got home), I mopped the muddy floors almost everyday, sent a customer service email, was supposed to apply for a grant with a deadline of Wednesday but due to the no Wi-Fi issue went ahead and skipped that round, took the dog to training class, on the way picked up a gallon of milk from our raw milk lady, grocery shopped up north, went to the chiropractor, attended a coaching call and a webinar, and there’s a whole other running list in my head of things to do, research, cook, clean, prepare, that doesn’t even touch the business side of things.

I know we all do this everyday, every month, etc. but the question I had to stop and ask today is the same as last writing. Where is it in service to my goals? What is my next right step? When we were living on the road this was always at the forefront of my mind, next right step was usually pretty clear and we became very intuitive and knowing where to go and when to make a move. Living inside dulls that intuition to some extent. But I don’t want to have dull instincts so I have to get in the mud and feel around for my footing.

Here’s an example of where I think we are (maybe) getting it right. We want chickens, always have, and have been around enough urban farms or even friends backyards to know having them is a great farming segue and low entry barrier project. We even have a dilapidated barn behind our house that housed some foul at some point. When we moved in last summer the kids started clearing out that space. When we circled back around to the research end of having chickens there was a lot of debate about building a new coop or using the existing one and just making improvements to it. Next right step (and next right available thing) meant that improving the existing structure is more viable for now. We already had the lumber at the ready to do the work. The boys made great headway last weekend and we’ll be getting some chicks in early April after our spring break. Same goes for the garden, we have seeds, at least some workable ground, and a separate barn space for getting some seeds started indoors. We all have to start somewhere with what we have and this is what we have for now. And it is enough.

The mud season is messy but it can be full of fun challenges if we’re willing to look at it that way. I still grumble a lot on the cloudy and cold days but the temps are ever so slightly starting to climb and signs of spring are slowly making their selves known. I see it in the greening up of things and the return of more bird species to the area on my daily walks. Sometimes there’s even a clear blue sky to appreciate and if we’re really lucky no wind. Today is not such a day, but I can knock a few more things off my list from inside while I wait for another glimpse of the sun and for the mud to dry up.

If you don’t use it, you’ll lose it | Moving my body to get unstuck

I’ve made a lot of start and stop attempts at writing these last couple weeks. There are a lot of thoughts floating about my head around mind, body, daily routines, wellness, and food. I start and stop then get stuck in my head, then get stuck on the couch, then get sucked into all the other things that need getting done, which is just part of life I guess. The key is to not beat myself up for it. For me, part of this tension relates to the dreary winter season we are still in, (and thank goodness we are getting more sunlight day by day, because that helps ease the dread for me).

I heard this question posed on a podcast I frequently listen to: How am I treating my mind, body and soul as it relates to being in service to my goals? WOOF!

I can’t keep doing the “stuck” loop I’m doing and expect different results. (That’s the very definition of insanity for my recovery friends.)

Also, on my daily walks I’ve been asking myself, what is the thing that is invisible or that most people wouldn’t know is holding you back just by looking at you?

My answer to that question in this moment is sciatica.

For years, since before Camden was born, I’ve had this on and off struggle with my SI joints. Sometimes it’s completely manageable and gives me little to no trouble, other times it rears it’s ugly symptoms for a few days or a week then can go away for months at a time. Lately though, it’s been persistent and sometimes debilitating, it’s something that is holding me back from pursuing my goals. Maybe I’m getting too introspective, like how is this all connected, but I also think it’s trying to tell me something deeper. I’m doing some searching work with trusted friends and a mentor to gain some further understanding about my self and past patterns that I’d like to rewire in my ethos.

In the meantime I’ll keep walking, but noticing that just walks are not sufficient to keep the sciatica at bay have also started hiking once a week and trying to get in more Pilates, at least once a week as well. The hikes are especially rewarding at the moment. Millie and I head just a few miles out of town and I keep my snowshoes in the back of the car in the event the road or trail is snow packed. I’m so grateful to have easy access to wilderness, because if I didn’t I wouldn’t do it.

That’s what I mean if I don’t use it, I’ll lose it. Physically, it looks like strengthening my core (once again), doing the inside work to know myself better, flex the knowing muscles to develop newer ones and continue building on the foundation I worked so dang hard on for the last 15 years. Accepting that all of this work takes time and I am one hundred percent worth the investment. So how am I treating my mind, body and soul as it relates to being of service to my goals? Well, I have some pretty lofty goals on my horizon and am gradually working towards them. But I’m going to keep myself as the priority right alongside pursuing those goals so that I can show up as the best possible version of myself in my community and beyond.

Keep on climbing, can’t see the path now but more is always being revealed

BIG Caveat: I kept holding off on posting this after a week of several looks and edits. I tied it up with a bow at the end but things are messy and I’m I’m far from where I’d like to be. I went to the chiropractor last week and asked what is the emotional connection to this sciatic flare up. Because if our bodies really do keep the score, and when I’m not as connected to my feels, my physical body will start yelling to tell me that something or some things are not in alignment. The body/emotional connection that I’m experiencing has to do with not feeling supported. And it’s not an external support system that I am lacking, it’s my internal unhealed parts of me. Now that I have this awareness, I can actually move forward with gentle healing action. I liken it to the early days of my recovery work. I had to want to work through the pain instead of continuing down the path self destructive behavior that landed me a seat in those rooms. I had to stop blaming my upbringing or my past for my own actions as an adult woman. And I still have to do those things, but with a more inclusive stance recognizing that I abandoned some injured versions of myself along the way and now I’m looking back at them with deep compassion and empathy. I want their input, creativity, and skills to collaborate with the currently version of me as we do the things we dream of doing.

I realize this perhaps sounds absolutely ridiculous to some readers, and that is OK. It’s the best way I can make sense of my current state of being with the tools currently at my disposal. Nobody is going to do the work for me, I must show up for myself; past, present, and future versions. Maybe I’ll leave it at this. Whatever it is I am searching for at a deeper level (I as a collective we), let it begin with me. I (We) cannot pour from an empty cup. What will fill that cup will vary for all of us, but it must come from within. External forces can only suffice for a time and will not truly sustain.

The Writings of Breanne Mashek

Homesteading, Caregiving, Ramblings, and Travel

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