Thursday, March 30, 2006

Adventure to Ojai, Feb 2006

*The World is a friendly place*
*I am safe wherever I go*
*Traveling Solo is a rich, educational, inspirational,
enjoyable, soulful learning experience.*

February 5, 2006

As the rest of the world prepares for the Super Bowl, I am sitting in a Bed and Breakfast in Ojai, California. Alone. By choice. No plans to cheer for a team, no intention to drink beer (stopped 17 years ago) or whoop and holler at the plasma TV in an overcrowded sports bar. Not that I would ever do that anyway, but I’m just saying.I have never been to Ojai, it was a suggestion of a dear friend to celebrate, rejuvenate and hibernate (I just made that up!) in this beautiful valley.

Saturday, I drove up the coast and marveled at my Pacific Ocean through towns I had not visited since high school. Trancas Beach, Zuma Beach, Malibu on into Oxnard. A lovely afternoon drive. This idea came to me while driving: to pack Callie up and take the trip all the way to Eureka. Stop in San Francisco area, visit friends along the way and then head up toward Humboldt County. Find places to stay that allow dogs and continue writing this book about solo travel. Musings of a Middle Age Dreamer.

SO, this is a beautiful place. Lovely outdoor area. I ate in the patio that faced the pool and backyard. There were houseplants everywhere, perched in a bird cage, setting upon an old wooden ironing board, straddling an antique Coke machine. I smiled as I recalled my own atrium at home with new life breathed into it with the addition of the plants Lynn gifted to me. Perhaps a small patio table is in order now.

My breakfast consisted of fresh berries, melons cut to size, perfect poached eggs. I mean perfect. Round, cooked with just a little runny yoke, just the ticket to top a whole wheat English muffin. Chamomile tea, luscious fresh squeezed orange juice. Briefly I remembered my favorite stop in Ireland, eating breakfast with my then-fiancé, anticipating finally meeting the sheep in the back field. What a magical place that was, with the outside nursery, ducks and dogs roaming the land, the Guinness beer factory barely visible in the distance. Willy and Bandy, his daughter’s pet sheep.

As I was preparing my meal, I mentioned to another guest that I am a writer and here for some quiet. Well, that is partially true. Though it is not the initial reason I came here, it is becoming quite apparent that writing is my saving grace and I am doing myself a huge favor by retreating, taking this trusty laptop along and hunkering down. I also am aware that saying I am a writer legitimizes my solo status. Is it not OK that I just am here to take care of myself? Take my body and emotional self out of my normal life and prepare for the changes that will occur when I do this. It’s easier to tell people I am a writer. I can go anywhere and do anything if I say Well, this will surely be a great addition to my story/book/magazine article.

“Awareness is curative” as Mary Hulnick would say. So I am aware. And I refuse to pick on myself another minute of the day. Perhaps I am just merely trying this out, this new coat, this new identity, the brave new world of Karen, post-graduate school courage tucked in my jeans pocket.

I’ll snap some digitals of the back patio, parlor, my bedroom. And off I go to horseback ride. I’ll tell Melissa that I am writing a book about solo women travel. That isn’t really what the book is about though. I mean I will be the solo woman traveler, but the subject and what it is about will not necessarily be the same. Anecdotes. Interview others who are living their dream, even if it just a portion of their dream. I want to come up with some questions. How did you come to do _____, Is there a deeper longing/purpose/meaning to this activity you are involved in, Are you aware of any synchronistic events that led to this choice/lifestyle. Tell me anything else you would like me know that might deepen my understanding (and perhaps yours as well) of what this activity/lifestyle choice means to you and others.

When was the last time I started letting these ideas flow like this? It is apparent to me, very clear, that I MUST write and by getting away, I afford myself this time and opportunity to allow Spirit to flow the words to me. What a joyful discovery.


Theodore Woolsey House Posted by Picasa


Plant-filled porch Posted by Picasa


My breakfast nook Posted by Picasa

Horseback Riding in Ojai

February 5, 2006

Melissa White ~ horseback riding in Ojai

This valley faces the foothills of Los Padres National Forest. I had the privilege of taking a 2 hour trail ride with Melissa White, horse owner (and manifester) extraordinaire. Before I even met her I knew we would hit it off. Sometimes a phone call is just that evident and transparent. I moseyed down in my brand new cowboy boots (not yet broken in on the range, only at USM and New Years...). My horse was Bo (or Bodacious if you will) while Melissa rode Willing Spirit. Both of these boys were her personal steeds and she talked to them like they were her kids. Tenderly and humorously with the MOM KNOWS BEST thrown in on occasion.

OH God but I love to ride. I told her about my saddle at home in my bedroom as well as the recent trip to Hawaii that included a family trail ride all over the Big Island. With a bit of coaxing Melissa began to tell her story and how she ended up with Western Trail Rides as a business. Taking notes was out of the question – as it was I could barely stop to snap photos – but I will attempt to convey her dream as it was told to me.

It was only a short 8 years ago Melissa began to take horse back riding lessons. As a young girl growing up in Santa Paula and Ojai, no doubt the smell of hay and sage began to beckon her toward this calling. But alas, her career as a teacher and administrator was the path she chose. What eventually drew her to the horse ring is not clear, but at 36 she traded her school teacher pumps for cowboy boots and took year long lessons. Educators love information and Melissa was riding and no doubt absorbing every inch of horse sense she could glean from her instructor. Before long every spare minute was spent at the Paradise Ranch, her weekly horse companion Bo would soon become her own horse for real. Joker (ne Willing Spirit) and McGinnis soon joined Bo and the beginnings of Western Trail Rides was born.

What made this experience so extraordinary for me? Was it Melissa’s vision for her business, her uncanny ability to name every flora and fauna on our 2 hour ride (watch out for the poison sumac, look at that button sage) or the twinkle in her voice as she described her ¾ acre purchase of her future home (now the boys can live with me!) I believe it was more than that. I felt inspired by her courage to test the limits of her faith by trusting that her passion would lead into a lucrative, soul satisfying business. Indeed, Melissa’s education and life experiences guided her toward fulfilling her life’s purpose: sharing nature and unconditional loving through animals with children’s camps and work-weary tourists. I left the stable with a lighter step and a renewed, reinforced belief that becoming conscious of and then living our dreams makes the journey here on Mother Earth a more graceful, grace-filled process.


Stables Posted by Picasa


Trial Master, Melissa Posted by Picasa


Bo and me, forever friends Posted by Picasa

Dinner at Suzanne's

Sunday, Feb 5, 2006

Though this doesn’t really count as a solo activity, I did have a wonderful night with my friends Joelene and Suzanne. We dined at a local lovely restaurant called Suzanne’s (no relation to my friend), sampling such taste treats as grilled vegetable salad, crusty fresh bread and butter, seafood and sweet desserts of three flavored mousse as well as a pineapple concoction topped with ice cream. At times I wonder if I have a bottomless pit for a stomach! No regrets here, it was scrumptious. As we eagerly caught up, each with new additions to add about our post grad-school lives, the couple next to us was experiencing their own super bowl of loud, silent communication. It wasn’t like I can eaves drop (my right ear is presently hearing challenged) but seriously it was almost impossible to dismiss the drama that was being played out at their table. As we three were roaring about some recent mishap with the male species, our neighbors carried out the patterns so familiar to me: blaming, reading the riot act, crying, the please-don’t-at-be-mad-at-me hug and the ever present silent screams. Painfully I recalled my own bumbling attempt to get my needs met while desperately wanting to make my partner wrong, suffer and take responsibility for my internal reactions. Hopelessly adrift in adult love and childhood patterning.

The three of us smiled our knowing smiles, blessing our dining neighbors and reminded how precious our woman-bond is. Self-forgiveness in tact, tracking projections in our tool box, we concluded that though the challenges are daunting, we are each still willing to put our big toes and whole souls into the next new relationship that Spirit sends our way.


The Three Musketeers Posted by Picasa

Guilt Be Gone

February 6, 2006

Ojai Valley Inn
The morning was spent hiking the Cozy Dell trail (half hour to the summit where a commanding 180 degree view took my breath away), gleefully consumed breakfast and off to the day of self care I went. Set up against the green lush foothills, surrounded by manicured golf courses, the Ojai Valley Spa was the next stop on my adventure. I admit a sense of unworthiness crept in. I am a master at catching these pesky little critters and quickly banished them to the land of self-forgiveness. What DID I do before the USM days (ate boxes of cookies and jars of peanut butter, that’s what I did). Having firmly agreed that I deserved this rest, relaxation and peace and quiet, I began to enjoy the solitude and the calm nurturing atmosphere here. I took a 15 minute lap swim in the outdoor pool and felt almost giddy in the experience. Feeling bad about taking a Monday off for lil ole me quickly transformed into wanting to pinch myself at my good fortune. I mean why don’t I write a book about THIS – what it would be like to live the very life I want and enjoy it. I think I’ll invent a spray called GUILT BE GONE.

After the swim I made my way up to the coed lounge waiting like a queen to be announced and presented to her next activity. A tall willowy blonde named Harmony (or course) came to fetch me and lead me to the Kuyam treatment palace. Here I would lay in a sauna-type room with colorful tile lounge chairs, cold cucumbered water, a near freezing lavendered washcloth for my forehead and a small wooden dish of mud. My Kuyam neighbor seemed to have no problem disrobing and smoothing the cool gushy compound all over her – and I mean all over her. OK fine, I was a hippy once, I can do this. She offered to cover my back and I did the same for her. It was actually a very sensual exercise. She reassured me that the mud would actually lift some of the bags out from under my eyes and I thought Now that’s a plus. We laid back in our perspective chairs and listened to the guided visualization. I pictured myself skating (my standard guided imagery), holding Glenda and Papa’s hands, surrounded and supported as I gracefully slid my skates from one side of the rink to the next. My body began to shrivel under the mud’s influence, even after Harmony lightly sprayed my face with rose water. At least I think it was Harmony and I believe it was rose water. By then I was drifting in and out of consciousness, thoroughly entrenched in my “place to rest together” (the meaning of Kuyam) experience. As I was led to the showers to begin the de-mudding process, I felt like I had just run 26.2 miles. Body and mind both altered, feet not quite planted and nothing much mattered. The mud ran down the drain leaving my skin as smooth as silk pajamas. I was in aromatherapy heaven. Shampoo, conditioner, body lotion all in sync, I walked out smelling like a sweet herb garden. Now it was nap time (hey, that was hard work!) A little snooze in the noontime sun, a turtle on a rock. I think we can learn something from turtles. I drank my peppermint tea and briefly wondered what activity I would slither over to next. Ah, the sauna. Dry or wet? The million dollar question. I decided to go the dry then wet route. Near-freezing washcloth in hand, I opened the dry sauna door and made myself comfortable on the bench. By now I am nude and loving it (I sound like Kramer on Seinfeld). 5 minutes was the recommended time so I stuck to that and barely got out alive. How much closer to Gumby legs can I get? Another nap was in order, a generous swig of cucumbered water and on to the wet room. Now this was a challenge. I was up to it but let me tell you when that steam came full force, I became one with the rainforest that was created in this room. Dripping with sweat, I pictured the mousse from the night before enthusiastically leaving my body making room for all the broccoli and green beans I would vow to feed it forever ahem. I gingerly rose up, found my lounge chair and hunkered down for my last bit of peace. I wondered what Jennifer Aniston was up to and briefly caught up with her in this week’s PEOPLE.

Before I left the sanctuary, I decided that maybe my book should chronicle a year of spa treatments. You know, like travel the country – no, the world - and try every treatment known to man. A facial in Poland, an herbal wrap in Switzerland, a Swedish massage in Sweden! Hike in the Rockies and conclude with a warm exfoliating/ aromatherapeutic mud session in Colorado. Settle into the Hot Springs in Vermont followed by an in-room shiatsu back massage (after pure maple syrup on my room-service pancakes of course). I think I am on to an idea, now to just be able to convince my accountant of the tax benefits…


In-room spa Posted by Picasa

Time To Go Home

February 7, 2006

I didn’t anticipate this feeling of malaise, disappointment or hesitancy as I prepare to re-enter my work/home/family life. I awoke with an active mind, eager to open my laptop and start this process again. I know now that this is not an ending after all, but the wonderful magical beginning of KAREN’S YEAR LONG 2006 ADVENTURE. Getting very comfortable with my solitude, I will plunge into what comes through this writing, enthusiastically anticipating the learnings, the newest experience and all discoveries to come. Gratitude is the central focus this morning, reminded what my ongoing purpose is: My purpose on Earth is to demonstrate peace, cooperation, forgiveness and healing, share loving and compassion, express exuberance, enthusiasm and joy as well as nurture, validate, prize and listen in a heartfelt way to everyone I meet and know. And it starts inside of me.


My own patio sanctuary Posted by Picasa