Backpacking Packing List (Especially for long-term travelers)

“You’re carrying such a big pack!” People often exclaim, when they see me schlepping my 50 pound backpack home around on my back, which carries all of my worldly possessions of the traveling moment, which has been my life for much of the past eight years. After I explain, people change their tune to, “That’s it?”

How does one be a long-term traveler? How does one live life out of a backpack? What’s in there? What do you bring?

After enough questions aimed in this direction, it’s time for this article. I hope that this article is helpful for you who are preparing for a long journey, you who are preparing for a short journey, you who are just curious, and you who are already well-traveled. This article is for... you.

I’m no longer in the always-on-the-road-and-ready-for-anything phase of my life... Well, sometimes I am. Like, right now. But it doesn’t feel like this-is-forever, any more. I’m just coming out of it. I think. I just got a car again, and am looking into grad schools. Times are a-changin’. But, I will still write this article in present tense, just to keep things active. Because, even though I’m becoming more stable in my life, I am still a wild ol’ nomad, in my heart.

When traveling long term and carrying my life on my back, I try to minimize my life down to the essentials. Some call us “ounce-cutters.” I agree. But, it’s more like “micro-ounce-cutters.” I like to cut the tags off of all of my clothing, take off stickers... I go to extremes to lighten my pack. I traveled for a while with a tarp pack, instead of an actual backpack, to reduce the weight of even having a backpack. How comfortable do you need to be? How comfortable do you want to be?

Even in my most “extreme” times, I still carried my leather journal. Leather is durable and wonderful... but, heavy. And, my home-made journals are 120 pages. The whole thing fits in the palm of my hand, but is extra weight. As is my pouch of special stones, my books, earrings, an extra pretty thing or too that I don’t really need, but really like... and thus choose to travel with, for a small degree of comfort. What are you willing to live without? What can’t you live without? What do you absolutely need?

I’ve experimented with a variety of ways of doing things. I used to be much more “hardcore” than I am now. As I get older, I tend to value comfort more. I carry a larger towel than I used to, by a few inches. Those few inches of cotton comfort make me so much happier after a shower, even though it’s a few more ounces of weight. As is the ease of carrying a pack: ergonomic comfort, pockets, accessibility, etc. It’s heavier than a tarp pack, but by now, I don’t mind.

I pack differently for different circumstances. What form of transportation are you taking? Where are you going? Are you staying urban? Are you going into the back-country? Are you doing both? When are you traveling? What are the weather conditions? I’ve mostly hitchhiked and taken public transport, and am prepared to go between both urban and wild environments, as I don’t know exactly where I am going, much of the time. I resupply once a year, if I’m lucky. So, I’m prepared for anything. Regardless of within the USA or abroad, I am always prepared to camp with a few basic items:

Camping equipment: basics

- Sleeping bag (temperature rating to match wherever you are going. I didn’t know where I was going, so I brought the warmest bag that was as light as possible: a 0 F down bag)

- Tarp and rope (This is in case it rains. Know how to rig up a tarp shelter, in a variety of ways. There are ultralight tarps, and your general tarp. Ultralight tarps are handy for quick emergencies, but not conducive to multi-day usage. I prefer the general tarp.)

- Sleeping pad (I prefer the solid foam pad, instead of the blow-up sleeping pads. The blow-up pads take up less room and are more comfortable, but can pop, depending on where you are traveling. I often land in more rugged desert-type environments, thus the inclination towards a non-inflatable pad.)

- Stove (Optional. I still don’t own a backpacking stove, since I usually make cooking fires. A lightweight stove can be expensive, but very handy to have, especially in areas where fires are not allowed.)

- Matches or a lighter, in a plastic ziplock sack

- Water purifier (water pump, or iodine tablets)

- Water bottle or water bag

- Metal container to cook food and water in (I love lightweight and durable titanium cookwear.)

- Eating utensils (I carry around 1 titanium spork and 1 pair of bamboo chopsticks)

- Knife (I carry a pocket-knife on my hip, at all times. Just make sure that you dress yourself appropriately, before boarding airplanes, as airport security frowns upon knife-laden hips.)

What clothes you bring depends on the type of environment you are in. I like layers for all environments. What you bring also depends on how long you plan to be “out” for. I will list my suggestions for long-term travelers. I bring my favorite clothing, which is comfortable, aesthetic, usually natural fibers, and can be used in many ways. I travel with my favorite clothes, as I know I will wear them over and over again. I like to have different colors, patterns, and textures, so I can mix and match, to make life more interesting. (The same clothes all the time gets boring, after a while.) I love darker earth tone colors, so things can get dirty without looking dirty, and I can easily blend into a natural environment. You can buy synthetic lightweight quick-drying clothes, but I find those to be noisy, uncomfortable, and get sweaty and stinky easily. I prefer natural clothing, even though they’re generally more heavy.

If I have the opportunity to resupply, then I will pack what I need seasonally. Asking friends for their extra clothing that they would otherwise donate, digging around in free boxes and thrift stores, and leaving behind what I don’t need, in exchange for what I do need, works well, if I can’t resupply.

For colder climates, I love wool for its insular ability, even when wet. Synthetic fleece is wonderful for its warmth and lightweight nature, but melts if you get too close to your campfire.

Warmer climates vary. The desert has cool nights, so I prepare for that. The tropics are hot and muggy, and feel unbearable in the summer seasons. If resupplying, I would bring nothing but just a sheet, and the lightest cotton clothing that I have, for those kinds of conditions. Ask the locals what to prepare, and notice how they dress! If in a foreign country, it’s good to dress like those around you, anyhow.

Instead of making two different lists for warmer or colder climates, I just made one list. Adjust as you need, via the clothing material, and quantity (more and heavier for cold weather, less and lighter for warm weather. Layers, always). I wash my clothes by hand, more often if it’s hot, and less often if it’s cold.

Here’s some clothing ideas/ possibilities:

Clothes list

- 2-3 pairs of underwear (cotton’s great, but dries slowly, and chafes if you’re sweaty. I invest in more expensive synthetic traveler undies, to expedite the daily washing and drying process. I’d like to try hemp or bamboo undies, next.)

- 2-3 tank tops (or other base layer cotton/ natural fiber shirt)

- 1-2 inner long-sleeve shirts (cotton for warm weather, wool for cold weather)

- Lightweight outer jacket

- Rain jacket (doubles as a windbreaker. Make sure that it’s waterproof, not just water resistant, if you will actually be in a wet environment)

- 2-3 pairs of socks (wool for cold weather, cotton for warm)

- Leggings

- 1-2 skirts and/ or 1-2 pairs of pants (light yet durable cotton, or other natural breathable material for summer. Wool for winter)

- Long-johns (1 pair for warmer places, 2 pairs for colder places. Wool, always.)

- Hat (sun hat for sunny environment, wool cap for cold environment)

- Sunglasses (optional, for snow or sun)

- Other cold weather gear (down jacket, gloves/ mittens, scarf, etc)

- Other warm weather gear (swimming suit if you need it... and not much else at all. Mosquito net, perhaps)

- Shoes (sandals and moccasins for warm weather, just boots for cool weather. I travel with sandals and boots, to be prepared for any weather)

I tend to carry around too much food, as past travel partners can attest to, with cringes on their faces. Instead of storing food in my backpack, I tend to carry it around in an external “food bag,” because it’s too heavy and bulky to backpack with. I dumpster-dove for many years for food, instead of purchasing it from the store, which made procured food more valuable. Thus, schlepping it around. These days, I am more picky with my eating habits. I eat mostly organic, so carry around healthy foods, and foods that I like. This food list is more for the back-country connoisseur, rather than the urban traveler, who can easily resupply. I bring food that lasts for a long time, even without refrigeration. I prefer storing food in paper or cloth sacks, so that they can breathe, instead of plastic bags, where they can get damp then moldy, from their own sweat. I usually don’t carry all of these foods. It really depends. If you really want to get fancy, you can dehydrate everything ahead of time. But, I prefer fresh. Here’s some suggestions:

My food list

- Onions

- Purple cabbage

- Carrots

- Garlic

- Ginger

- Broccoli

- Sweet potato

- Fruit (ie Apples, oranges, pears, dried fruits)

- Spices (ie. Salt, pepper, curry powder, cayenne)

- Grains (ie. bread, oats, quinoa)

- Protein (ie. nuts, seeds, beans)

- Oil (I don’t usually backpack with oil, but it’s really lovely to have around.)

The sundries list

- Money (and money/ passport belt, if in an area where folks often get mugged)

- Pepper spray (optional. I used to carry this, while hitchhiking, just in case.)

- Extra bags (I carry extra cotton bags for collecting plants, foods, etc. I carry extra plastic bags for trash, waterproofing needs, etc.)

- Toiletries (toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, soap if you need it, menstruation equipment, etc)

- Small towel (I prefer cotton, instead of the quick-dry synthetic stuff. Cotton just feels and smells better, after a while.)

- Any medicines you may need (I tend to just carry a Tiger Balm style first aid salve that has mint, menthol, and other aromatics that are helpful for everything from aches and sprains, to minor cuts, to bug bites and nauseousness. I also carry Chapparal salve for sun protection and general skin nourishment, and always chapstick.)

- Sewing kit (just 1 ball of string, and 1-3 needles)

- Extra rope, rubber bands, tape (and scissors, if you’re really fancy. I like to carry hemp or jute rope for its durability, compostability, and potential to shred into small pieces to make a tinder bundle nest, for fire-starting)

I carry my large pack on my back, and my smaller grab bag on my front. My grab bag is usually a shoulder bag, but is sometimes a backpack. I put all of my valuables and immediate-usage items in the grab bag. When traveling in public areas, I sometimes ask a stranger to watch my large pack while I go elsewhere. But, I never leave my grab bag. I sleep with my grab bag next to my head, to this day. The grab bag can sometimes get bulky on long trips, especially wilderness backpacking journeys. If I don’t have a grab bag, then I’ll make sure that I have a strong cotton bag that I can easily sling over my shoulder, to use as a grab bag, if needed. A friend gave me a roll-up synthetic ultralight backpack that rolls into the size of a large wallet, that fits at the top of my pack. I carry it around as an emergency grab bag, when I’m not carrying one. When on multi-day backpacking trips, I like to set up a base camp. I leave all of my stuff at camp, unroll my emergency grab bag, and turn it into a daypack. Some backpacks have a detachable “brain” at the top. I’ve seen fellow travelers store grab bag type items in their backpack brain, and detach it as a fanny-pack, when they’re on the move. Fanny-packs seem ergonomically friendly, though I’ve never used one for long, before. I like hip pouches too (just more stylish than fanny packs, and hanging on the side, instead of protruding from the belly), which are like mini grab bags that stay put.

What’s in my grab bag

- Headlamp

- Knife

- Journal

- Camera

- Matches/ lighter

- Money/ passport/ ID

- Snacks

- Phone

- Spork/ chopsticks

- First aid salve

- Chapstick

- 1-3 lightweight cloth/ plastic bags, rolled up

Now with my car, I have a diversity of travel choices/ possibilities. Ensconced within my packed car, I have a smaller backpacking pack for shorter trips, and a large one for longer trips. I have a small suitcase with wheels, with the same carrying capacity as my large backpacking pack, but the convenience of being able to open my suitcase to view its contents, instead of digging through my pack. And, the wheels help to save my aging spine, for more urbane adventures. I have a small day pack, for day hikes. And finally, my grab bag forms my day-to-day purse-like sack, that still comes with me everywhere, and guards my dreams at night.

I’d like to finish this article with one of my favorite quotes, that my best friend in college, and instigator for what has turned into a lifetime of travelsome adventures, once shared with me. I tape this quote onto my wall when I have walls, write it in my journal, and travel with it in my heart. May it inspire you on your journey, as well. And, may you prepare well, pack simply, trust yourself and this beautiful massive world, and... enjoy.

“Benedicto: May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds. May your rivers flow without end, meandering through pastoral valleys tinkling with bells, past temples and castles and poets towers into a dark primeval forest where tigers belch and monkeys howl, through miasmal and mysterious swamps and down into a desert of red rock, blue mesas, domes and pinnacles and grottos of endless stone, and down again into a deep vast ancient unknown chasm where bars of sunlight blaze on profiled cliffs, where deer walk across the white sand beaches, where storms come and go as lightning clangs upon the high crags, where something strange and more beautiful and more full of wonder than your deepest dreams waits for you -- beyond that next turning of the canyon walls.”

- Edward Abbey

~ Addendum ~

Here's some extra insights/ experiential suggestions from my friend and fellow traveler on a similar journey of a different style, Marvin Warren: 

Tarp: You can take my ultralight backpacking tarp from my cold, dead hands. I used to have an 8x10 silnylon job that took me from Georgia to Maine in 2001--still have it, in fact--but now I have a slightly smaller tarp made of spinnaker fabric, which sails are often made of. It's lighter and at least as durable as the silnylon. Cost more, but I've had it for 8 years now and it shows no sign of wearing out, even with a small hole burned in it by a careless neighbor camping in Tennessee some years ago. Anyway, it weighs about 8 ounces; there's no way I'm going back to the enormous and heavy standard tarps of my youth. Also, this means I can use lightweight cord for guylines, saving even more weight (though not so useful for tying up kinky friends and errant children). My sleeping bag, tarp,  lines, pad and ground cloth all together weigh just about 2 pounds. It's hard to get a sleeping bag as light as the quilt I made, but I've seen ones right around 2 lbs/10° that looked very nice.

Stove: I made my 1/4-ounce alcohol-burning stove out of two soda cans and some aluminum tape from an auto parts store. Cost: the tape, a few bucks. I could show you how in under an hour. Fuel is denatured alcohol, available at any hardware store, though I can only seem to find quart-sized and above these days, no more pints. You can burn everclear, too, but why would you? ;-)

I've also used what people call a hobo stove, which is simply a coffee can or some such with some notches cut in it to allow for some air flow. More efficient than an open fire, and easier to rest a pot on. Weighs a little more than the alcohol stove, but if you're confident that you'll have fuel (bits of wood), you don't have to carry any. Both work great, though there's no 'simmer' option, at least on the alcohol.

I put everything in ziplock bags. This is probably less needful in the desert--though it still helps keep things organized--but on the wet sides of the country, it's invaluable. In particularly wet weather, I line the inside of my pack with a trash bag as well.

Clothes: Less of them, all quick-drying except for wool/synthetic socks, of which 3 pair is a minimum, and usually just the right amount. I will never go to sleep in wet socks again. No no no no no.

I invested in silk long-johns, and find them more comfortable and lighter than wool. It's my hands that tend to get cold, though, so I'm less worried about my legs. Might change if I wore skirts outdoors in winter. (Extra socks double as gloves, too, of course)

No cotton, except on car-trips. Synthetic, silk, wool, bamboo fibre, but no cotton.

Sensing

What's happening around you right now? Which sensory impressions are most noticeable to you? What is your strongest sense? Which of your senses are less awake and aware? Bring consciousness to those senses now, noticing what enters your awareness.

Botanica Aphrodisiaca

From a recent talk about roses, cacao, and aphrodisiacs. Enjoy the below PDF, my class handout.
Happy Valentine's Day!

And from my 2013 final research project/ presentation while finishing up at the Northeast School of Botanical Medicine, is the below PDF on... DIY natural lube! Please note that I would change some of the titling and content of my "herbal categories" in the below PDF, but I still like the general info, and especially the recipes on the right column. And now, if you combine my 2015 "Botanica Aphrodisiaca" info and the 2013 "Botanica Erotica" info...!

Have fun.

PS- If you're in Connecticut, I'm teaching this class again on April 21. Info on Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/events/355729177966245/
and in my schedule:
http://linjiling.blogspot.com/p/schedule.html

Jiling's Spring 2015 Connecticut Herb Classes

You can view the PDF more fully, or download and forward it, via this link:
https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B7LKnt2hzJ4ZcEY3bFo4Vy1HVXM/view?usp=sharing

More in-depth class descriptions:

Jiling’s Herbalism Classes

Come join us for an empowering, informative, and fun herbal workshop series in Bethany, CT this spring, with herbalist Jiling Lin. These classes provide a solid introductory foundation for the vast world of western herbalism, rooted in hands-on medicine making, plant identification, and other practical skills. Students will learn and explore experientially, making an herbal medicine in each class, and gaining useful tools for self, home, and community.  

When: Tuesday nights (6:30- 8:30 PM), and the first Saturday of each month (10 AM- 3 PM).

Come for one, or all, of the classes. Open to everyone.

Where: Out-on-a-Whim Farm (312 Litchfield Turnpike Bethany, CT)

Register: Contact Jiling at LinJiling@gmail.com or 626-344-9140

For more info, visit www.LinJiling.blogspot.com or www.facebook.com/jilingbotanicals/events

Tuesday Evening Medicine- Making Classes

When: Tuesdays, 6:30-8:30 PM. March 17 to June 2

Cost: Sliding scale $30-$50 per class.

We’ll share tea, and explore a different topic each week: practical medicine-making skills, formulation, applicable theory, plant identification, local edible and medicinal plants, and more!

Free Tea Party (March 17)

Come join us for a free tea party to welcome the coming spring, and the beginning of a weekly and monthly herbal workshop series! We’ll discuss different approaches to exploring the world of plant medicine, with plenty of open space for collective sharing, asking questions... and savoring samples! Please bring your beautiful self and any interested friends, and a snack to share. Hope to see you there!

Creating Tea (March 24)

Teas are an ancient way to ingest plants, which is still ritualized in many traditional cultures. We’ll share a tea ceremony, then prepare teas, infusions, and decoctions. We’ll discuss ethical wild-crafting tools and techniques, plant drying methods, and storage techniques. We’ll formulate customized relaxing blends for each student, exploring relaxing herbs and nourishing nervines, and how they interact with unique body-types. Other topics we may explore include topical tea applications (washes, compresses, poultices, steams), local delicious and nourishing plants for tea, and powders.

Oil Infusions and Salves (March 31)

Our skin is the most exposed part of our physical body. We’ll discuss skin-care, salve making, oil infusions, formulations, and create a luxurious aromatic skin-healing salve.

Making Tinctures (April 7)

Tinctures are plants extracted in alcohol. They’re easy to make, transport, and ingest. We’ll prepare tinctures with fresh, dried, and other plant materials with the folk method, and scientific method. We’ll discuss formulation, cordials, elixirs, and plant actions. Other possible topics include organoleptics, botany, Ayurvedic constitutional evaluation, vitalist energetics, and holistic health.

Sweet Medicine (April 14)

A spoonful of sugar truly makes the medicine go down. Sweet medicine is often delicious, as well as medicinal. Just don’t eat it all at once! We’ll demonstrate making honey infusions, syrups, glycerites, pastilles, cordials, and elixirs. Students will bring home a yummy medicinal honey infusion.

Aphrodisiacs and Herbal Chocolates (April 21)

Since food is one of our most powerful medicines, let’s begin with dessert. We'll explore aphrodisiac plants, uses, and formulation. Focusing on roses and cacao, we’ll concoct decadent herbal chocolates, and luxurious rose coconut oil.

Incense, Dreaming Herbs, and Flower Essences (April 28)

Working with plants on a ritualistic or energetic level can complement any self-care or therapeutic practice, and enhance the process of coming to know oneself, in relation with plants. We’ll discuss plant connection exercises, dreaming herbs, the ritual usage of plants, and how to make flower essences. We’ll make an incense blend in class, for students to take home, and continue the journey.

Women’s Herbal Circle (May 5)

This class is for the ladies. We’ll discuss dietary, lifestyle, and herbal support for women, and the female reproductive system. I’ll tailor the class to the needs and interests of participants, so please register, and let me know who you are! We’ll formulate a supportive tea for the female system, and create a moon-time medicine kit.

Herbal First Aid (May 12)

Using herbal medicine in acute first aid situations is one of the best ways to learn, through hands-on practice in everyday life. We’ll discuss how to address common first aid concerns with herbs, such as open wounds, infections, digestive disorders, headaches, emotional distress, and more. Students will bring home an herbal medicine to start, or complement, their own herbal first aid kit.

Spring Edibles and Digestive Bitters (May 19)

Many of the first edible plants to rise in the spring are bitter. We’ll discuss the importance of bitters for healthy digestion, identify spring edibles, and make a delicious digestive bitters tinctures blend, and infused vinegars.

Food as Medicine (May 26)

Let thy food be thy medicine... and let thy medicine be thy food! In this fun and delicious class, we’ll demonstrate creative ways to prepare local wild edibles, kitchen herbs, and integrate herbs into food. A few possibilities include making gomasio, pesto, finishing salts, infused oils and vinegars, sauerkraut, tonic soups, adapto-balls, and more!  

Free Tea Party (June 2)

Welcome to another community tea party, now at the culmination of the spring herb classes, where all students are invited to share their herbal projects, experiences, plant stories, and more! I’ll share upcoming summer herb class activities, and some spring treats. Please bring a locally grown or wild-harvested snack to share. Let’s celebrate the abundance of spring, and the upcoming pleasures of summer!

First Saturday Botanical Field Days

When: First Saturdays of each month, 10 AM- 3 PM, April to June

Cost: Sliding scale $65-$85 per class.

Field days include plant walks, medicine-making, and more. We’ll explore field botany, ethical wild-crafting, and land stewardship. Please come prepared to be outdoors, learn, connect, and have fun! Please register in advance, for location and other details.

Plant Identification: Intuition and Observation (April 4)

Understanding botany is essential, for conclusive plant identification and safe/ effective medicine making. This class combines intuition, observation, and science to help newcomers learn practical botany skills. We’ll discuss organoleptics and botany basics, then embark on sensory explorations, and practice “keying out” plants using botany tools and books. We’ll discuss ethical wild-crafting tools and techniques, then make a fresh plant tincture and oil.

Experiencing and Creating Flower Essences (May 2)

Flower essences contain the vibrational essence of the plant. They work with people on a subtle yet powerful energetic level. We’ll connect with plants through field botany and a variety of awareness exercises, make our own flower essence, and experience a variety of plant essences.  

Herbal Medicine Making Intensive (June 6)

Making herbal medicines involves understanding a simple set of techniques, then repeating and adapting them, under a variety of circumstances. We’ll do a plant walk, botanizing along the way, practice plant connection exercises and ethical wild-crafting, then explore a variety of field medicine making skills, including drying methods, plant storage, tinctures, oils, honeys, glycerites, liniments, and vinegars.

Connections

Who do you feel most connected to in your life? What things hold the most meaning for you? Who do you feel less connected with? What kind of people, places, things, and activities are you attracted to, or repulsed by? What kind of connections do you forge with the world around you, through the people that you surround yourself with, or keep yourself from? 

Deep Creek Hot Springs, CA

If you live in or near Los Angeles County, then go visit this hot springs! It's large, beautiful, and relatively within driving distance. (It's an hour from my parents' place in the San Gabriel Valley, driving slowly). I'm posting directions, because it was difficult for me to find info online. Here's directions: 

The Drive

- 210 E

- go LEFT at the exit for 18 N/ Waterman 

- go LEFT at the stoplight for "Lake Gregory," to go to 189. A sharp curve RIGHT (immediately after the stoplight left) going up a steep hill begins your 189 ascent. 

- go LEFT to Grass Valley Road (this is a sort of confusing residential district. Just keep following the road signs, and go slow.) 

- eventually dead ends at 173. Go LEFT onto 173. 

- Right before the road closure, there's a bridge (Kinley Creek Bridge). Park here. To the right of the bridge, you'll see a small trail... take it! 

The Trail

It's about 3.5 to 5 miles down, according to different sources. So, it should take around an hour to get down, and 1-2 hours to get back up. There's a few different trails, but basically bear right for the shorter steeper route, and bear left for the longer less-steep route. Both are equally beautiful, and semi-treacherous in their own right. 

The Hot Springs

There's a few different pools, different temperatures, and clothing is optional. Bring water and a sun hat, have fun, and remove your trash, please! There's been people there every time I've visited, even on weekdays. The trail is really steep, so make sure you wear good walking shoes, and knee protection if you need it. Even if you don't visit the hot springs, it looks like once you get down to the river, if you bear left, there's less people, and it's quite gorgeous (think lush riparian zone, surrounded by large Joshua Tree NP style stones). If you bear further right, you walk towards the Pacific Crest Trail, which can take you all the way south to Mexico or north to Canada... enjoy! Besides this route I posted, there are other options. But, this way seems the most direct, and includes free parking. 

I got my info from here: 

http://studentreader.com/deep-creek-hot-springs/directions/#Bradford-Trail

Life

A new year, a fresh beginning. (But isn't every breath a fresh death, a new beginning? Each moment?) 
Here we go! 

2014

A year of hope and heartbreak, boredom and adventure. A year of possibilities and perserverance, pain and pleasure. A year, indeed. My year: half a year of school, finishing school, then traveling in the USA again, experiencing the freeing yet dreaded “no schedule” that that completion offers, the ensuing questions, the fresh journey of refinding and redefining myself, and beginning to share in new ways, with new projects: Jiling Botanicals, travel-teaching-and-consulting, house-sitting-hopping, and more.

Cheers to endings, which were once beginnings. Cheers to beginnings, which are just endings transforming themselves into something that looks and feels new. Cheers to another step towards death, via a full life, such a full full life, one day after another.

I started “Project ME” (My Evolution) in 2005. This is the ninth year of the project’s evolution, and documents quite a journey, a journey of days. I started writing daily sentences mid July of this year. I strung together all of this year’s sentences underneath the 2014 Project ME collection. I share, in hopes that whatever glimmers of humanity you notice, you may relate as you choose, and feel less alone in this journey of life. Or, enjoy just experiencing a glimpse of another’s life, my life, via a day by day, step by step, constantly evolving, personal documentary.

May you fully digest your own events of the past year, and move into the new year with strength of will, clarity of purpose, and peace of heart. May every particle of your being sing to its highest potential in each moment, and may you be fully there to enjoy the symphony.

- Jiling  

Watching the river move the moss stuck against the stones, suddenly I notice myself removed from myself, then return again, even more present than before. I’m back at home, in the home where I grew up. The sun flows like a river down over the mountains and cacti, bringing a new day in with bird song. Packing and unpacking stuff perhaps takes up half my life’s activities. I hope that all my work is truly helpful. I’m back at my favorite place in the world: on a rock, in the middle of a stream, with dappling sun and shade, bird song, and a light breeze. Heath is multidimensional, as are people. Weight-sharing, connecting through the center, feeling the plumb-line, listening, giving and receiving... thus is contact improvisation, a relationship, all of Life. When I overeat, my belly protrudes from my body as if I’m pregnant, or wearing a basketball. I spend a lot of time packing and unpacking, preparing and planning, processing and digesting, reflecting. The wind blows cold awareness into my limbs. Stepping back, all the important little things suddenly look so trivial, compared with the countless stars and giant stones of this grandiose landscape. Walking up the moonlit path feels like walking towards the Temple of the Sky Gods. The pine arms reach across the brightening blue sky towards the neighboring mountains, with golden sunlight pouring down their steep gray scree fields. After eight years, today is a day where old dreams and goals finally come into fruition. Anger turns even the most magical, beautiful landscape a dull, ugly sheen. The rising sun illuminates all the stones that stand like sentinels, saluting the gracefully reaching pines, calling cows and birds, and wind that wraps itself into the deepest reaches of my very being. This morning’s sun reflects last night’s tears and blood. I’ve entered this new world with Opuntia wrightii gloccids in my mouth, hands, feet, and more. Fully moving into a place without fully knowing how long I will stay or what I will do feels familiarly like trusting the Universe, gambling with God, and surrendering to intuition, led by love. Life is filled with tiny details that coalesce together into a massive whole, that may or may not make sense, depending on the viewer’s perspective, and state of mind. With a straight yet flexible spine, my core is strong, and I stand up for myself and my beliefs. I feel exhausted most of the time. To know, to love, and to be completely present with are ideally simultaneous, but oftentimes separate. I don’t know where I’m going, but I know I’m going somewhere right. I want to create something beautiful, useful, and long lasting today, and everyday. Unfulfilled creative potential feels like a growing bomb getting ready to explode within me. I’m about ready to implode, right now. The mosquitoes here are almost worse than in New England. Part of me loves going nonstop, and part of me just feels unrepairably tired. I live my life as art. It’s been a really good morning. I love the feeling of infinite possibility, like I can walk forever, and the wilderness opens to receive me, with endless new discoveries around every bend and minutiae. The canyon stretched before us like a twisted snake of mysterious bends, a richly rolling river, diverse plants, and gently towering cliffs looming above, topped by growling thunder and darkening clouds bearing life-giving rains. I love when I can skillfully ride my dosha like the bad-ass spirited human that I am, behind and through the dosha. I will return in one month; I know, I promise, I will. Sleeping under the stars in my mosquito net castle, serenaded by passing cars, crickets, and mosquitoes, I cuddle tighter into my wool blanket on my oak leaf bed, feeling at peace, at home, and completely embraced by the world. I am in love with his eyes, smile, being, and questions. The hitchhiking gods beamed upon me, yesterday. I love, love, love mountains, canyons, rivers, deserts, and ecstatic exploration. I’m letting go of preconceived notions and this chattering mind, and settling in, opening up. I’m not always this charismatic, but I’m having fun. I’m sleeping here for the final night, as clouds move across the full moon, and I question all that I think I know, and believe in. In five days, I’ve added so many things to my inner toolkit: heart-field expansion, inner child and inner infant work, inner vision council, and scanning awareness. There’s something I love so much about canyons that words just can’t describe. Walking away, I feel the heat of what I’m leaving, the tangible-visible-innate magic, mystery, and majesty of these labyrinth-like canyons, these echoing red rock cliff faces, and these ancient stones that say so much, with nary a word at all. Feeling my skin against his again is so much more delightful than just thinking about it. I am finding my internal middle ground, that perfect settling place of understanding that external perfection can only be found through an internal acceptance (and even enjoyment) of all things and life circumstances as perfectly imperfect. The individual stories either weave themselves into an elegant basket that breathes, flexible and supportive, or they create an impenetrable wall of protection that dulls sensory input and acts as a cage to the owner, and all they encounter. The Moon gracefully walked across the Sky, between the path created by the opening between the trees, beneath which we slumbered and dreamed delicious dreams. Everything that I thought I knew feels fake and empty, like I have nothing solid to return to, and nothing to look forward to, or live for. Although I feel a complete and utter desolation of my Spirit right now, I also feel glad to be on this farm with the morning cacophony of horny hungry geese, ducks, and chickens, and in the company of all these fruit trees, veggies, herbs, and my dear old friend that feels like the most inspiring and hilarious younger brother I’ve ever had. I want to know how to help someone--- how to help myself--- in those moments when the human Spirit loses all resolve, motivation, and excitement for life. This sunrise glinting through all the dewdrops that appeared overnight gives me hope. We must go through the dark forest, not around it. My entire being is spinning with ideas, inspiration, and excitement. I want to remember this feeling of empassioned and bold aliveness, with hearing Wolf and so many other acclaimed herbalists telling us to be bad, not be afraid, and go out and create lasting positive change in the world and our communities. It feels so nice to be this comfortable, and to truly rest. I feel so tired, excited, stressed, inspired, overwhelmed, overworked, overstimulated, and just ridiculous right now. Herbalism is about establishing relationships with plants and the world around us, and facilitating that for our clients and community, too. The mountains told me to stop for a moment, so I did. While the winds stir up dust, clouds, and emotions, I sit under the shade of this large stone, watching the landscape do its dance of the day , and listening to its stories. I stayed awake all night to feel the wind toss my body across the stern granite ocean, to go prancing and howling across the desert mountains, hills, and plains with my coyote brethren, and to watch the stars dance across the sky, with lightning illuminating the neighboring mountains, breathing the deepest breaths of peace, delight, and truly Earthen blessings. I feel terrified yet delighted, ecstatic to scale these dangerous fourth class Arizona canyon walls that take me seemingly nowhere but up, dangerously up. During the in-between hours of dawn and twilight, there’s a certain timelessness and transience that permeates the landscape with a magic and beauty that is explosive yet subtle in all its vibrant potential. Is this the peace before the storm, or is it just peace? The first step of my journey of a thousand miles began today, by painting our/ my future/ upcoming clinic a deep/ bright earthen red. I possess an obsessive compulsion to complete what I’ve started, even though I still can’t fathom just how it will all work out. I am building a temple. I love working with mental illness. Living off-grid again might be an upcoming reality, which I embrace. Clouds feel protective right now, as I hide. I found a hawk feather, golden Cottonwood leaves, a dried river bed that flows into more, Osage Orange fruit, apple butter, a dead mouse, a massive black walnut tree, a field of Yerba Manza, a killed javelina, and how to renew life and hope from what feels like a deadened spirit: time. I woke up dreaming about labels. Today the Herb Temple, albeit incomplete, opens its doors to the public. Today’s our six month anniversary, between spring and autumn, and two hearts, two paths, two lives that converged and mutually decided to continue dancing together, to the clapping hands and delight of the Universe, herself. This morning, I promised this wild western winding muddy magnificent river of the Gila watershed, with its Heathen’s Baptismal hot springs, to unleash my tongue: as “good” (societally acceptable) me floats down the river, “bad” (societally overwhelming, alarmingly wild and untamed) me dances boisterously, naked and howling. Transition is a funnel: death to one life, purgatory, then rebirth into a new life. The fairy dusters have blossomed for the second time this year, late in the season, testament to the surprising amounts of rain, coupled with the encroaching cold via wintry nights, yet sunshiny days. The nights are now cold enough that Akimel, our coyote-chow puppy, sleeps on the bed with us, most notably wedging his little coppery golden body between my legs in the middle of the night. I just said, “yes” to something that I don’t wholly agree with, and find confusing yet alluring, but don’t feel like I have anything else fitting to say, “yes” to with my entire being, at the moment. My fears rise up like a flock of birds, lifting to cover the sky of my heart with their fluttering wings of questions, doubts, confusion, and the bones of despair, an underlying feeling of complete inadequacy. I’m glad to cry, rest, write, and take a day to myself to dream, be, emote, and dive into the waters of teary eyed emotional creativity with many pots of tea. We laughed, danced, cried, and had a really good time taking a chance and having a blast, to remember this moment for the rest of our lives. We walked across the starlit landscape hand in hand, surveying the Milky Way while discussing the mundane challenges and triumphs of our busy yet banal lives. I really don’t know anything at all, for there’s really nothing to know--- and that’s it. Gravity drew me, bike and all, down the gully and into the gravelly wash; pendulumatic motions and muscles drew me back out again, screaming and laughing with unfettered delight. I’m not sure what happened, but all has suddenly lost meaning once more, and I’m drowning in my own tears. That trip brought me to my knees. I have questions that revolve around culture, belonging, place, home, being, purpose, choice, meaning, and possibility. The satisfying feeling of going fast towards somewhere unknown yet known, with my Breath and Heartbeat echoing around the surrounding landscape, reminds me of personal promises made to this and other lands, and I recommit to running daily. Let this ending welcome a new beginning; let this new beginning be a solid reminder of the consistency of this cycle, and the humbleness it necessitates. I really want to run away, but really don’t know where I’d go, and how things could get better. Even if ignorance really is bliss, it’s already too late; I know too much to play dumb. Leaving is always an option; staying is more difficult, and questionable. Her fairy wings and pretty sparkles remind me that there’s no need to be so curmudgeonly all the time, if ever. May many more fun fantastic tea parties follow the one today, which was the first, under my care of the Herb Temple. My rapidly dying friend’s mysterious adventure into the unknown known fills me with sadness, but also an increased awareness and respect for the preciousness of this one transient life we have to live , with an increased inner resolve to not waste my time on anything unworthy of it, and live it it up. I quit my job, and am now embarking on a journey back to New Mexico and Texas, to collect seeds, explore relationships, renew my trust in how I dance with the Universe, and shake myself loose to allow the Wind to expose and revitalize my Heart again, and hear the echoes of our collective singing and screaming reflected back to me, across the canyon walls, as the miles blend together, and I fall asleep to the familiar, comforting, yet also deadening thud of rubber against pavement, the whoosh of the land rushing by--- and I pray. Sitting in the back of his steamed up truck with a misty fairytale landscape awaiting discovery outside, and our sleeping bags connected and the coppery coyote laying on my feet, anything can step out of the mist, declare me its child, and dash off with me into this wild wet wondrous world of unknowns; time to go for a jog, and key out some plants. Bitterly, I wonder if he forgot to introduce me, or if he just did not know how to introduce me? We’re camped next to a dried stream, with proud Mullein bearing second year tall golden flower arrangements still present, long dead candle-heads of flowers come and gone this season, and first year simple fuzzy basal rosette of leaves, all brightly arranged against the rocky soil under the Oaks with leaves already fallen, to the backdrop of more scraggly Oaks climbing a goldenly grassed hill, jacketed in its summer glory, ready for winter. Unable to sleep soundly due to colorful powerful dreams, I wake this morning to light incense and prayers for today, which lies between the Summer and Winter Solstice as the day in the year when the veil between the world is thinnest, transitioning between birth and death, heat and coldness, the known and unknown. After repeated self-affirmations of one’s own worthlessness and lack of belonging, these words sink into the strata of one’s deepest being, lodging themselves into the mythology of one’s life, and becomes true. Sky’s rapidly changing color from black into myriad rainbow colors, then soon into the bluest blue of simultaneous hope and the roof of all possibilities, unless you’re an astronaut; I’m just an herbalist, no astronaut, so the Sky really is the limit, but I’ll purposefully forget that, and ride on the wings of the nearest canyon wren, to the uplifting tunes of its soaring vocal melodies, to rise, weaving through, dipping under, and echoing around and far past all of these wild winding massive mountains, discovering their secrets, unveiling more, and walking, flying, and living through then back into the shattered infinite rainbows of a life of questions, lived courageously, joyfully, and gorgeously. Just when I thought a dream had fizzled out, there it stands again in the distance, waving at me with a wink and a smile, and wearing a super alluring costume of my favorite colors, laughing and dancing, pointing out the way, which has always been in front of me, but I’d just never really notice before, but had been walking it nonetheless, for it was a beautiful path to walk, and simply laid out ahead and below me, one step at a time. Water droplets showered down, veil-like, blown upon the wind, dancing elegantly with its elemental rawness of water rushing forward, lit by Sun, drawn down by gravity against the Earthen stones, tossed by windy air to dance as I too choose and wish to dance, as freely and elegantly, going with the flow while choosing my own route to follow. It was good to see your faces again, Mothers and Fathers, to feel your breath, hear your voices, and touch your hands. After eleven days away, tomorrow we return, but today I grieve the loss of travels and freedom, dread the return to what feels like purgatory or self-conceived Hell, and ponder the dreadful yet persistent, possibility laden question of where to go from here, what to do with my Life, and how to find joy, community, Home, belonging, hope, fulfillment, and make a meaningful livelihood, too. After waiting for almost an hour, the first gleams of sunlight have finally kissed the top branches of the Ponderosa Pine guarding our camp, with sunlight quickly sliding down the tree, and dancing through the pine needle strewn forest floor, jays arguing in the distance, the smell of fresh pines, and a stiff wintery wind calling me to step deeper into the unknowns of the forested wood, and bring my courage with. Everything has fallen apart, and is falling still; I have nothing solid to stand upon, and am sinking, falling, shattering, dying, getting crushed up and digested back into the primordial black mulchy unknown, and it’s painful, terrifying, heart-breaking, limb-wrenching, gut-tearing, tear-bombing, death-defying, because after all this, somehow I’m still alive, though feelingly only partially so, and partially wishing it weren’t so, but mostly not knowing at all, and knowing myself as utterly lost. Anything could always happen, but now, I’m preparing for all that could happen, to do it all at once, though I really just want to grow restfully and beautifully, and not too fast. With the sudden closing of our emotional connections, I wonder if it was ever truly there, to begin with. Once again, it’s packing time: things, emotions, all pieces of myself, all packed back into packages and bundles small and large, awaiting the next opportunity to open, blossom, and fall in love again, as we enter the winter of this year, the darkness of my Heart’s breaking, and the embittering pain of a million needles stuck into the rawest, most vulnerable places, the deepest chord of which is unrequited love. I am wholeheartedly grateful to the magical line that connects all things, that even though things are currently scary and uncertain in my life, I am still healthy, with options and welcomes, and ancestors that feed and watch me, especially as I sleep, through powerful story-telling and directive dreams that sometimes guide literally, other time symbolically, but always magically. My sadness has progressed, deep into the deepest, darkest part of my Being, to hide, weeping like a million Moons, with no Sun to illuminate their Beauty, or glistening tears, all drowned out by the sound of the rain bashing against stones, causing flash floods and landslides, washing the surface veneer of my external facade clean, with a hard flat smile that betrays nothing, but only to a trained eye, one that sees, all the dull heartbreaks of almost thirty years of existence, and much more beyond that, lie gleaming, polished and unpolished, yet blanketed behind eyes that are hard, yet beg to be softened by seeing, and being seen with honest acceptance. The heated waters slowly draw out, hour by hour, all the accumulated grief, stress, and worry lodged within my body, which I later toast out with the heat of the Sun and pureness of the blue Sky, walking forever into the Ocotillo covered hillside, into a landscape of prickly Acacias and hidden Chollas, a place where the abundance of surprises both painful and beautiful mirrors the wild gorgeous dangerous splendid nature of my own Spirit, untaming itself as quickly and painlessly as it can, quietly yet forcefully, with the shattering of a million false hopes to reveal, well, something. Walking the labyrinth during the pre-dawn thin-veiled hours of early morn, I watch the Sky changing colors, the shadows of the Stones contracting, as my own long shadow shortens, and I observe the tranquil inhale and forceful exhale of my Breath, measured to the steady rhythm of my walking feet, every step measured and calculated, one foot in front of the other, laying down my feet from toe to heel, outer to inner edge, noting the places where my feet contact the Earth, and that central rooting point through my sole, which extends itself all through my Body, a serpentine undulating powerful two-legged four-limbed twenty-fingered twenty-toed two-eye-eared one-nose-mouthed naked creature relatively skinny, quite healthy, somewhat gangly, and certainly awkward, lanking my way through this labyrinth, this symbolic microcosm of the great mandala macrocosm of Life, muttering prayers in my Mind, Breath, and Being, and watching them disappear with the dust of my footsteps, the frosted visible air of my Breath. The persistent pain in my right wrist, which spread to my right shoulder after the Taiwan surgery, has now migrated to my upper back. At the end of the day, I question if it was worth it, if it was well lived enough, fruitful enough, a life truly and fully lived, enough. Small spaces fit me just fine. I filled fifty one- ounce bottles with three different kinds of salve then labeled, prayed over, priced, and boxed them. Two feasts in one day is something to be grateful for, indeed. I reached the point where to go further was potentially dangerous untraveled territory, whereas to stop and stay safe was just the same old thing, and just decided to let go of everything, leap out far and brilliantly, and trust fervently, knowing that given the briefness of my time here on this planet (at least for now, that I know of), to hold anything back is a waste of life, while to dash my doubts to the side and leap means abandoning the known, and welcoming the witchy wild wonderful weird perhaps unacceptable certainly scary parts of myself that are truly whole in their off-kilterness. I was too busy to remember. A few pecans fall every few seconds from the tree across the road. I’m so glad, tired, and honored to connect, and see our mirror reflections once more. With everything familiar changed over and over, it’s easy to forget, and really not know. Just pray, keep asking questions, and listen to my heart. These grandmas and grandpas, with their wrinkled skin, twinkly eyes, endless stories, and bountiful life experience, expand my perspective dramatically. Although it feels pointless, I still push on. Two more hits to the heart have solidified my decision more than all the walking, thinking, and listening that I’ve been doing: onwards. It’s the same thing every time, isn’t it, my beloved, my heartbroken, my homeless, questing-questioning-wondering-wandering-wordly-lonely-embraced, my sweet? Feeling bitter and jaded doesn’t lend itself easily to faking being amiable, loving, charismatic, or friendly. What a strong fast wind this life brings. I, after almost 3.5 months, left. I’ll go where I want to go, do what I want to do, and then decide who I want to bring along with me. With a song, a prayer, a shout, and a shake, goodbye Arizona, I’m off again, and this time for good (for now). Driving through the winding mountains, alternating between cruising at third gear and gently braking, I listen to bluegrass blues, admiring the wholesome trees, sense of homecoming, darkening wide sky, and mountainous terrain all around, weeping tears of joy at returning, gratitude for providence, and the magic, mystery, and delicious challenges and triumphs of this one precious life, and ecstatic delight at the feel of the steering wheel obeying the slightest command of my touch, the whirring breath of the engine purring against the left shifter and the right start/ stop of my feet, hands and feet dancing between pedals, clutch, steering wheel, and music box, and eyes darting between road, landscape, sky, and all, immersed in the very amazing little process of just being alive, driving away from a place that I tried, found not right for me, finally chose to leave, and now breathe more deeply for having tried, failed, struggled, failed, broke my heart, rubbed it with salt and lime, and now offered it up to the great wilds and winds of destiny, fortune, chance, and personal choice to continue living my life as a prayer, a dedication to the great All of All Everything, moment by moment, with great laughs, huge cries, and a voice that will no longer be muffled by shyness, propriety, society, or any other dumbly dumbifying constraints, but I free with solid NO’s, emphatic YES’s, no iffyness, and as much certainty as I contain in each moment, with complete honesty, and a penetrating humanity to be courageously, rawly, fully, dangerously, wholly, fully, completely, wild woman- medicine way- Earth dedicatedly, ALIVE. What I could be pales in comparison to what I already am. It’s time to dive on in. It’s a true blessing to be on this Journey of autonomy, self, creation, nature connection, deep listening, praying, and wholing--- all dedicated to being whole, full, complete, and authentic, the greatest blessing that I can be, in turn. With no schedule, somehow my day is still packed, variating between deeply fulfilling and mildly distracted, with projects that I’m passionate about, mundane things that just must be done, and space that must-must-must be cultivated, nourished, and enjoyed. Living in a constant state of boxes and piles, I feel simultaneously a reluctance to spend my time moving into/ beautifying a place that I’ll just leave again relatively soon, while the messy nature acts on my subconscious, creating an ungrounded boxed/ piled up chaotic feeling, to rise up from the depths of my being, with discomfort. It feels like a big decision, but I know my heart’s answer already; I just need to accept that, and be prepared to work hard, remain focused, and be financially/ entrepreneurially/ lifestylely creative--- I know my path, I just must be brave and strong enough to walk it. I sang and prayed the whole way down thirty miles of steep windy somewhat icy mountain roads, after a week in my mountain retreat opening my heart, quieting my mind, and busying my hands, to mingle and connect with fellow medicine women again, as we enter the longest night of the year, the moon hiding her face, the ancestors coming out to play and whisper wisdom, the snow blanketing the Earth to sit and wait in silent receptivity, seeds gestating and rooting underground, blanketed by Earth and Sky, prayers and song. Though my eyes are as heavy as the mountains, my mind is as clear as the purest river, my heart lighter than the clouds, filled with life-giving rain to nourish an Earth as rich, magical, and beautiful as this body that I inhabit, and this possibility-filled life that I live, with attention to my dreams, commitment to my values, and perseverance to my goals. With the bright new dawn of a brand new day, the light returns again, after the longest night of the year, and I write letter after letter of outpouring love, gratitude, and mutual inspiration. There’s so much to consider: study in grad school or not (probably yes), in Taiwan or the USA (probably USA), which school (where do I want to be, where are the best teachers, and where can I learn the most/ best), and how to fund it all (I’m developing my herbal work to build my foundation, while looking out further to grad school, and how that ties in with my existing life, work, passions, and dreams)? Even though I don’t celebrate Christmas, seeing the busy joy of others, I sometimes wish I could really get into it, but instead just surround myself with my wood, stones, feathers, herbs, and bones, read, eat, dream, sleep, pray, and burrow deeper into my hibernation cave, woven of ancestral gifts and love, being remade by the threads of possibility, into a fresh creature of patience and perseverance and joyous celebration, delighted to be myself, however that may be, partnered with Place, Purpose, and Person first internally, then radiating outwards to meet the right match, with the strength of will, tenacity, and dedication to growth to find ways around stones ahead of my/ our path up the mountain, and the curiosity and radiant vitality to simply climb on. I went for a whole day without seeing anyone at all yesterday, and anticipate the same for today; re-becoming human involves stripping away all of my pre-established/ pre-conceived constructs around being human to reveal the true, raw, wild, naked, ugly, beautiful feeling, being, and knowing of full humanity, my animal angel all-there all-right real human me self. Snowy mornings like this get me all romantic, inspired, and dreamy--- so long as the snow melts again quickly, and I can feel the Sun once more. With peace came boredom, and now I must feed my internal fire with witty humor (deep connection on satisfying belly-laughing levels), and passionate dance (set aside some time, strip down the clothes, and pump up the music). This is the most I’ve ever slept in my life, and it feels wonderful (am waking at 8, instead of 6). Oh world, thank you for humbling me, for teaching me through lifting me up and crashing me down, for guiding my footsteps when I was lost; may I exceed all expectations, live up to my full potential, and live a life truly worth living, creating Beauty, and coaxing magic out of the mundane, in a fulfilling and wholing way. These dreams walk on their own; I am just the manager, the supporter of their power, the one who squats down and lifts them up to fly. The roots of this journey stabilize then propel us right into the next one.

(2014/ 07/ 17 -2014/ 12/ 31)