Flying High

As I got to the door I was physically shaking with fear and regret. The ride had been beautiful, but I was now starting to question my motives and my sanity. Legs out the door, the wind slaps me in the face. I blew a kiss to the camera, waved "Hi Mom!" and was pushed out of a plane traveling at an altitude of 12,000 feet. I free fell 8,000 feet in fifty seconds. That's a mile and a half. That's a football field every two seconds.

The first few seconds were the worst. My body was not accepting my new environment and was rebelling. I felt twisted inside out, could not comprehend the meaning of my surroundings, could not scream as my mouth filled with rushing air. James tapped me on the shoulder. My logical brain said that meant to let go of the harness I was gripping with Hulk-like strength. I freed my hands, spread out my arms and with a jolt of clarity I was on top of the world looking down at its most breathtaking scene. It was the most amazing feeling I have ever felt, and my only regret is that it might be a while before I reach it again. I was flying.

At 4,000 feet James, my tandem buddy, pulled the cord and the parachute miraculously opened. He lifted my goggles off my face and the realization that I had just jumped out of a plane over the Abel Tasman National Park came into sharp focus. I could see Farewell Spit, the 35 kilometer long boulder bank sitting on the northernmost part of the South Island. I could see all the way from the west coast to Mt. Taranaki on the North Island. In between lay the mountains of the Tasman, the Cook Strait, Golden Bay and my little Nelson town in the distance. Looking back, it's almost like a dream. We floated down over the next few minutes, spinning in circles and screaming Ay-yai-yai-yai like a crazed mariachi band and waving to Crazy Carl in the carpark. The pounding in my head and heart as we landed smoothly on the soft grass of the drop zone was like nothing I had ever felt before. The wide-eyed adrenaline junky look took its time leaving my face, and I am forever plagued with the knowledge that I have jumped out of a plane and survived. I can now do anything. ANYTHING. That's a bit scary considering my flair for the ridiculous.

The beginning of this story really starts about an hour before I was pushed out of the plane. I have been visiting friends in Motueka and Kaiteriteri for the last few days, relaxing and swimming at the beach, socializing in the evenings when they finished work. My friend Dan came down from Takaka to do his skydiving course and I decided to leave the beach to go watch. The wide-eyed expression of pure bliss as he came down from his first jump of the day made me start to question my staunch policy on not jumping out of planes.The first twenty times I said "No!" I truly, truly meant them, yet he slowly and stealthily convinced me to go on the next jump with him anyway. Something in his smirk did the trick, something in his eyes that said "I know something you don't," and from that moment I was hooked. I've written before about Fear vs. Curiosity, and how my damned Curiosity always gets the better of me. There's just no fighting that pushy, stubborn, ever-present need to experience and grow, even if I have to plummet to my death to find out.

I've always considered myself somewhat of a pansy, except for the tattoo thing, so this definitely rates high on my Weird-o-meter, right up there with hiking up an active volcano in Guatemala wearing only flip flops as protection from the lava, the first time I ever went scuba diving and realized I could breathe under water, and riding a giant dirtbike through the mountains of Northern Viet Nam.Whether it was the bravest thing I have ever done, or the stupidest, I'm not sure. Random acts of spontaneity has always been my blessing and my curse, but I am glad for my moment in the clouds. I guess now all that's left is the age-old conundrum...What's next?

Rachel
(and Crazy Carl)

Crazy Carl

I'm so in love. Not this puppy love nonsense, but that blissfully painful, butterflies-in-stomach, head over heels love. He's tall, dark and handsome. He's big and strong. I can snuggle up with him and feel safe at night. I've spent a lot of money on him, he loves a good oil down, and he doesn't mind if I drive. He's nineteen years old. His name is Carl. Crazy Carl. He's my new van.

I think I've graduated to the next level of my nomadic destiny and now live in a van. Carl is a '91 Nissan Largo, the seats fold down to make a bed and I'm dressing him up for the long haul through New Zealand. Actually I'm turning into one of those crazy ladies that scavengers through the recycling center (aka dump) muttering and trying to find cheap crap to kit out my van to make it liveable. I got into a fight with an elderly lady over a set of drawers yesterday, but screaming "I seen 'em first!" in a crazy Texas accent drove her away, which I will need to keep in mind. I'm currently on the hunt for a mattress and when I find the right one I hope to God there's no old lady there because I will take her ass out. All this erratic behavoir stems from February 11th, exactly six months to the day I have been in New Zealand. Something about that day was different, so I quit both of my jobs, got a massive tattoo on my left leg and bought a van. Slightly different to my three month anniversary when I went and purchased clothes hangers, something I don't think I've ever done before either.

That was when the wind changed. The wind. The dreaded, uprooting, chaotic, wind. When it changes there is nothing I can do except bow to its force and blow along with it. Fighting it is futile. It knows no comfort, warmth, logic or boundaries. It promises adventure, excitement, and thrill of the unknown. For those of us who chose to follow the wind, pity us and envy us. We own nothing and have everything. I feel comfortable with this lifestyle choice of mine and have embraced van-life with open arms, hoping it will embrace me too.

I walked into the bar to give my two weeks notice. Of course some sort of explanation is usually needed, but I was met with blank, confused faces when I simply replied, "the wind changed." So I launched into my "This Is The Longest I've Stayed Anywhere Ever And Now It's Time To Go" speech. Logic strikes again! I stroll over to the yoga studio and turn in my two weeks notice. "The winds changed." Knowing eyes and head nods give their approval and their blessing for my upcoming journey.

People keep asking me when and where I am going. North? South? East? West? I smile, shrug, and am happy. Blissfully happy. I don't know where I'm going, I only know where I have been. Probably I'm headed to a beach. "But what will you do??!?," they ask, stunned. I will do nothing, and I will be content. Who said you always have to do something? Doing nothing is one of my favorite things, and I'm getting very good at it. I've successfully shocked half the population of Nelson, which isn't saying much because it's such a small town. People I haven't seen in ages or hardly knew are showing up at my work to say goodbye, so apparently word has spread. I've tried talking a few friends into coming with me but to little or no avail, as per usual. It's ok though, because now that Carl and I have found each other it might get a little awkward with a third wheel.

I'll be kicking around Nelson for a few more days trying to sort out my life which never works no matter how many times I try. The amount of times I have uprooted from a place I am comfortable in does not matter, it is always hard. It is always scary. Being ok with uncertainty is the only way to get by, and I know that one day in the very near future, I will wake up, hop into the front seat and drive away, leaving friends and family that I dearly love but knowing that it is for the best.

"In the wake of your goodbye I linger,
Clinging to what might have been,
As the sun shines through the cold the truth come windward fold,
Let yourself start all over again.

In the wake of your goodbye I linger,
Reaching with my heart and soul,
But the shines through the cold and the truth come windward fold.
Don't let yourself.
Don't forget yourself.

Got to know what you're running from before you know where you running to,
What you leave behind.
I'll be gone when the morning comes,
Sun gonna paint a view,
Colors in your life."

-Big BW, Fat Freddy's Drop

Happy Jamming

As the new year has come and gone, I find myself looking back on a prosperous 2009 and the promising future of 2010. I feel that my experiences around New Years Eve and New Years Day tend to set the theme for my upcoming year. Last year, for example, my brother Sam and I were cruising the beaches of southern Thailand by day, taking full advantage of the nightlife and kicked off the New Year in Ko Pha Ngan up "The Mountain" at one of the biggest parties in the world. Looking back, this has definitely been a wild year.

The last five months in New Zealand have been a gift and a half. The one thing I wish I could share the most with each and every one of you is the music that comes from these small but vibrant islands. My favorite band, Fat Freddys Drop, played on New Years Eve and I have absolutely no idea how I got the 31st and the 1st off work bartending at a busy bar, so I'll just chalk it up to divine intervention. In the afternoon I took off with Ryan and Kendall out to Marahau to swim in the sea, hike around the Abel Tasman National park and relax on the beach. Then we drove back a small ways to Riwaka, population 108, to see the show at the infamous Riwaka Hotel.

Two thousand people crowded into a tent for the show; it was maddness. I started up at the front of the stage but there were just too many people pushing to see that I bailed out the side for cover and a space to dance. The show was amazing, although not what I thought it would be. At most concerts you go to these days the band gets up, sings their CD and that's that. Fat Freddy's got up and just started jamming with every instrument I could think of. They are not a pump-your-fist-in-the-air-and-dance-wildly band, they are reggae, jazz, blues, funk, and soul. So instead of the maddness of years past, I sauntered slowly into the New Year with 2,000 other calm, dancing souls. Surrounded by so many of my friends, it was a magical evening indeed. I decided then and there that the theme of the 2010 would be Grace. Lord knows I need some.

Fat Freddys Drop, Roadie: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=29MgzHUhHws

We all made it back to Ryan's stationwagon in one piece and the three of us tried to sleep there for the night without much luck, along with numerous other stationwagons, vans, tents, and a boat coincidentally named Grace, alongside the highway. The night was cold and the morning was baking hot, in true New Zealand style weather. We packed up early and skipped into Motueka for some breakfast then headed back to Nelson. Ryan and I dropped Kendall off and then proceeded to Part 2 of our New Year adventure. It took two hours to reach the tiny town of Inangahua, located precisely in the middle of nowhere in the mountains. Inangahua means 'whitebait' in Maori, and if your eyes are wandering you'll miss the town entirely. If you're eyes are peeled for a massive 4-day drum and bass festival, you'll see the little sign and turn left down the dirt road.

The Phat Club in Nelson town is the place to go see some great music. It's small, you always have a good view and some dancing space, plus the doorguy Paddy is a good mate of mine so I usually get to skip in for free. Every year the owners put on a festival in the mountains and name it after the upcoming year, hence the name Phat 10. Tickets are $250 dollars, bring your tent or a van to sleep in, food for 4-5 days and enough clothing for intense heat, freezing cold, rain, mud and wind. As usual I was ridiculously unprepared. Since we showed up on the last day of the festival Paddy put my name on the guest list and we breezed in for free, sleep-deprived, exhausted and ready to dance. In about five minutes I found everyone I knew, including Paddy who was doing security at the bar and looked a bit rough, seeing as how he hadn't slept in three days. Beer in hand, sun shining, I run into Pernilla, my crazy Swedish friend, as the melodious voices of the Black Seeds fill the air. It couldn't have been a more perfect moment.

Black Seeds, So True: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bDyUcmoIkl0

I've seen the Black Seeds three times, and they are spot on every time. Why miss good reggae when it's coming to you? After Black Seeds was Tiki Taane, former lead singer of Salmonella Dub, and then Kora, a group of brothers that only get together occasionally to play some wicked reggae and dub-step. They are absolutely amazing and were my favorite show of the day. After the reggae and dub-step the festival kicked up a notch with Drum-n-Bass!!! Lineup for the rest of the evening and into the morning was Dose, Bulletprookf with MC Tek, State of Mind with MC Woody, Concord Dawn, Klute...and then my memory goes a bit hazy. Pernilla and I had stuck together and danced almost ten hours when the freezing rain came down. I was barefoot.

Tiki, Faded: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=74Q-oAar5DY
Kora, Burning: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qkRKbdUyvqo

I need to say a few things about D&B music. I didn't really ever like it until I hit New Zealand. I called it 'Angry Music'. There is something about it though, something expressive in the random sounds and how they fit together, a heavy bassline or a good break beat. What I really like though, is how you dance to it. There is a freedom moving on your own, not needing or wanting a partner. In moving the way your body sees fit to move at that moment, in the way there is no judgement, the music flows through you. If you want to pump your fist in the air, do it. If you want to dance around like a chimpanze, sweet as. If all you can manage is a worm-like finger roll, that's also ok. If you stumble or fall, all is good because now you have a new dance move. I was covered in mud, wet from the rain, sweating from the dancing and happy as ever, although I feel my Grace had gone right out the window by that point. I'm surprisingly ok with that. Have a wee listen to the music, keep an open mind and remember that it is now 2010 and that music will transform and grow as we do.

Concord Dawn, Morning Light: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_TW__7lqo2E
State of Mind, Sun King: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=imp0BqHBxyQ

After we could no longer stand we retreated to the bonfire to sit down, but decided sanctuary would be back at the tent, where we could still hear the music until nine a.m. I got a few hours of sleep, finally, and then Ryan showed up in the morning after crashing in his mate's tent. We left before the crowds and got back home to Nelson a few hours later. My bed has never felt so soft, nor my shower so warm. After a solid week of work we had another day of music last saturday, another Phat Club production called Summer Six. The lineup was Optimus Gryme, a dub-step DJ, Nathan Haines, mostly instrumental folk-type music, P-Money, a hip hop artist, Black Seeds, woohoo!!!, Katchafire, one of my all-time favorite bands and excellent reggae music plus I have a ridiculous crush on the lead singer, and Concord Dawn, again woohoo!!! After eight hours of dancing in the intense NZ sun I was exhausted and half-dead once more. It's these shows, this music that makes my time here amazing. Nelson would be just a little town if it weren't for the music that came here and the sun that shines. Such a perfect place for me. Here's some more music, all of it from New Zealand. I hope you take some time and listen to the samples, and maybe some more after that. If we cannot share music then we cannot grow, so I'm passing on what others have passed to me, knowing that it will do you a world of good.

Katchafire, Who You With: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nf9TJ9K6I9Q
Shapeshifter, Long White Cloud: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yHnMcRUQP7U
Salmonella Dub, Love Your Ways: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EntFU6BWkro Push On Thru: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gHYIHqSq4JQ

Happy jamming in the New Year

Children vs. Hangovers

Life has taken me through many twists and turns these last four months spent in New Zealand. Not that I was expecting anything different, just that being a total workaholic and constantly surrounded by children never seemed like a viable reality for me to take part of. Yet here I am. Today is my first full day off in three and a half weeks, in which I have been working sixty-odd hours per week at my three jobs. In the mornings I wake up around 7:00 and bicycle to school and teach/ mentor teenagers with some severe issues. Although stressful, physically and emotionally draining, it's the little things that make the job worth it. A kid finishing the program and going up in the world, a kid passing a drug test, a heartfelt conversation or a hug make all the difference in the world. Today is the first day of summer holidays, so although I will miss them I am very grateful for six weeks off. School finishes in the afternoon then I'm off to the pub I bartend in downtown, unless I have a massage client booked at the yoga studio I also work for. The Vic Brewbar is where I have spent most evenings working this past month. The reason I went to apply for a job there was because in giant letters on the wall is painted

"If we're really nice to Mother Nature, she'll make us some beer."

How perfect is that?? Macs beer is a local beer, made all naturally with the goodness the Earth provides. I love it, and it's a great place to work. So from there I'm usually biking home around 11-12 at night and then I get up at 7:00 a.m. again and do it all over. I don't usually have to get up at seven, I get woken up by Ryan who is accompanying an Alvin and the Chipmunks sing-along on his harmonica.

Living with children, working with children, then coming home to children again has been a challenging few months here in Nelson, New Zealand. I wake up to the melodious sounds of Ryan, age five, stomping around the house singing and Lilly, age 0.11, gleefully scooting about with a squished banana in hand and playing with her train that sings "I've been working on the railroad" once every forty seconds. The little innocents squwak about with smiles on their faces as Rebecca and I slump on the couch, third cup of coffee in hand, heads pounding and exhausted.

Let me rephrase, I'm slumped on the couch overwhelmed, Rebecca is Super Mom. Living here has been such a learning experience for me, and filled with so many pleasures I didn't know existed. Watching Ryan learn how to read and helping him learn, watching his mind expand when you teach him new things is pretty awesome. Once I asked him what he thought the meaning of life is. He sat down and had a good long think before coming back to tell me that The Meaning Of Life Is To Play With Toys. Correct, indeed. Watching Lilly go from scooting herself around silently to now pulling herself to standing and learning how to talk in only three months is almost like a miracle. She is my little ray of sunshine, my fairy princess, and more flexible than a yogi master. She is always happy, always smiling, always wanting to play, dance and clap, and is a total thrill junky. She wants to swing higher and faster, loves being upside down and giggles the whole way through. She's going to be a skydiving yoga instructor. So funny that a year ago I was cringing at the sight of babies. Maybe it's something in the water here. Maybe I'm growing up.

The only negative thing I can say is that children have no respect for a hangover and they should teach silence in schools.

Summer is coming to Nelson, and with it all the festivals and live music I could ever want. I take my hat off to New Zealand musicians, you are all amazing. My relationship ended three months ago and the music has helped me to get back on my feet again. Talk about learning curves, love is something they should teach in schools as well. I have somehow survived my first Round boxing with love, picked myself up off the mat and know that Round Two will come when it comes, and perhaps I will be a bit wiser the next time. In the meantime, I will continue to dance, work, play with my kids and love my life. The Music Gods have blessed me with tickets to see Fat Freddys Drop on New Years Eve and I cannot ask for more.

Happy Holidays to you all, may the sun shine for you Christmas Day, and may the moon never fade on New Years Eve night.