The First Snow

Snow. I have a love hate relationship with it.

It has been a while since the first snow here in the Yukon. We are now old hats at wiping our cars clear of the 20 cm that fell the night before, and shoveling our way out of the house, defrosting our door-handles with hairdryers, getting up at 3 am to stoke the fire and making sure the car is plugged in so that it doesn't groan quite as much when we try to go to work.

However, the first snow came all too soon for me. I had been expecting it, anticipating it and basically all around frightened of it. I'm not sure if it was the idea of 8 months of winter that scared me, or the passing of another season. The fall losing its grasp as each day more and more leaves fell to the ground and the air became a bit more crisp.

I woke up one morning with a chill running through my bones. The blankets had come off of my bare feet in the night and I pulled my feet up underneath into the warmth and shuttered. I rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but the cold had nipped my cheeks and I was forced to get up and put a log on the fire. As I padded across the cool floor in the darkness of the early morning winter I noted to myself that this was the first morning since my arrival that I had been made to get out of bed because of the cold and start a fire anew. up until this moment my fire had held me through the night, allowing me to wake in comfort and pull on a sweater to go make my coffee before re setting the stove.

As i reached the door I paused for a moment, the windows were still dark and the sleep had not yet left my eyes, but something seemed different, the shades seemed to be pulled tightly to their frames, held there, hiding something from my eyes. I pulled open the door to retrieve my wood and was shocked when in front of me was 10 cm of freshly fallen snow. I quickly slammed the door shut, uttered a few obscenities and promptly climbed back into bed and pulled the blankets over my head.
"It's all over" I thought desperately to myself.

I knew this day was coming, but I wasn't ready. The snow falls in the Yukon and takes up post until the spring thaw, which (I've heard) doesn't come until at least May. It was the end of the bare ground being present in my life and the beginning of something new. The days would quickly become darker, the temperature would drop dramatically; sometimes below -40, the days would now include shoveling, plugging in cars, and an ever increasing difficulty in chopping wood and keeping the cabin warm through the cold days and nights.

I peered out from under the blankets and pulled back the shades to look outside. The trees were covered in a light dusting of white, creating a contrast with the greens of the pines that looked almost surreal. the forest seemed to go on forever. There was a stillness that i hadn't yet experienced, and didn't know how to react to. It was as though everything was stopped and sitting in awe.
Looking at the tiny white flakes fall to the ground I got up and again went to the door, this time prepared; dawning boots, and mittens i stepped outside and took a breath of the cool crisp new air.

Maybe snow wouldn't be so bad after-all

Why write

Why do we write?
its a curious question that only few can really answer.
One thing that I am not even sure i am capable of.  However, I have found myself contemplating this again and again throughout my life so far.

rant begin:
sometimes its hard to express what we are thinking, sometimes we have people in our lives that we just want to tell how much we love and cherish them and their friendship, love and compassion, but we don't know how.
sometimes we see something and are unable to say just the thing that displays the intense beauty that we find within it.
there are so many things that are confusing and wondrous and understated and there has to be an outlet to express them.
this may be why we, that write, do. It's something to explain to others how they feel at certain moments, moments that cant seem to capture in a way themselves. it captures that instant and brings it to life once again. something that is a memory or a present feeling that cant be simplified in a few words.
then why is it so hard to convince others that this is what we are meant for. the simple few who write because they know nothing else. The few that can only understand in words what they see, can only bring to life in long standing promises the things that we feel or see around us. It is this that draws writers forward. The urgent need to share these stories with others, to wrap our words around that instant and express it fully is

Songwriters write about lost loves, hearts breaking, happiness and solace. Often bringing us to tears, or pure unrequited bliss. poets make us look into ourselves and show us what is happening within a story, our story, their story. Journalists bring to life a story of someone or something that is a moment in time, novelists capture long standing events in time, real or not that allow us to imagine the impossible. Until that moment, when we see it put into print. They create magic. That is the moment that captures the innermost desires of our hearts, bringing us to a completely different place, a euphoric state that we somehow could not reach on our own.


The dogs made me do it. I promise.

Love, the northern acorn.

Cabin Life#2: Arrival

I have been struggling for a while with writing a post with some meaning behind it. something that shows the true essence of what it is that my life here in the yukon has been like. something different from the mundane everyday occurrences that so often plague the deep spaces of our minds.

When i first arrived in Whitehorse, I was relieved to have finally finished my journey, yet i didn't know that i was just beginning a new one. I didn't take the time to notice the small things around me, to really embrace the change that was about to take over me.

The sun had not yet set. the mountains surrounding the town were a lush green and filled with a magnificent wonder that i would hope to know. rivers and lakes shone in the early evening light bringing with them a question of their depth, and what lay beneath the surface of their beauty. The city came upon me initially as one of the many towns I had since been through. The buildings were placed tightly together in a small central area. Mostly businesses surrounded me, but if you looked closely you could see the tiny remnants of the past that lay between their dark exteriors; each one telling you its story.

As I headed to my destination, anxious to leave the confines of my car and wrap my arms around someone familiar I felt like this city was something unlike I had ever been to. The traffic was moving slower than i had been traveling in the past and I could swear that every car I passed, even though their windshield was cracked, or they had dents from animals in the sides, they were smiling; welcoming me to the town in their own way. Yes, this place was different. I pulled up outside of my friends work and began smiling in spite of the fatigue that I had been experiencing, in spite of everything that the past 5 days had been, and meant.

After we filled our bellies with delicious homemade pizza and local beer my friend and I headed to the place that was to be my new home. Leaving the city center and heading back on the same highway that I entered this place on. It seemed surreal. It was somehow fitting that driving to my new home began a the very place I had exited the highway. The mountains began to surround me completely and I was nervous for this new kind of life. We drove and drove further away from the center, until there were only trees, lakes, and mountains engulfing us like a birds wing around its young. Bringing comfort and silence all at once. We pulled into the long driveway and began the journey even deeper into the woods, passing by fences, with large welcoming gates announcing to everyone the desire to protect from the wilds but to welcome visitors to their homes.

When we first pulled up at the cabin I was immediately hit with how absolutely beautiful it was. Was this really where i was to be living. A place so remote, so quiet, so far from everything. I was filled with relief, wonder and absolute fear all at the same time. The four walled one room cabin is made of logs, with nick-nacks of the previous residents strewn all about, both visible and not. The elk antlers spoke of the wild that surrounded the place, pieces of wood strewn about the property showed the hard work that was required through the long winters to keep warm, to keep alive, a room with only the basic necessities available spoke of a more simple life that so many before me had strived to live. the smoke from the chimney filled the air and i shuffled my feet entering the cabin, holding on to just this one moment. My heart began to race and the wind picked up in the trees around me, and they whispered the secrets of the other people who had come to this special place. It was a place where you would be isolated, completely alone with just yourself, and that... is absolutely wonderful.

Cabin Life #1: The Beginnings

I am pretty sure that most people who end up living in cabins come about it fairly innocently. I know this cant be said for all people but in my experience this is the way it is. A friend tells you of the beauty of living the simple life. somewhere far away from all of the hustle and bustle of the world, where one can really reflect on their life, while getting their hands dirty and building up a strength, not only physically, but characteristically and emotionally as well.

I'm telling you: It's true... if you make it so.

It involves staying present, getting the mind under control, practicing love and compassion.  Clear your mind… Chop wood, Carry Water.

Living in the Yukon has been somewhat of a whirlwind for me so far. It has been very challenging mentally physically and emotionally. I never imagined that I would be living in a place like this, but I am excited to see what challenges it holds for me. I want to let the world show me what it has in store for me, and keep myself open to these beautiful new experiences with positivity and good vibrations. coming from a life where things shave always been, a,b,c... this could be difficult at times, so lets go on a journey.

I hope to document the progressions of the cabin life as i learn them. Whether it be accomplishments of failures or just learning curves. It might get dirty, but lets get into it.

The Cabin

So far, a general day includes:

get up with the sun. birds, squirrels and wind in the trees. the heaviness of the night worn off.
make some coffee and head out into the woods for a nice morning walk, and to say hello to my neighbors horse that often comes to the fence for a little snack and to say hello.
chop wood.
make fire.
carry water.
make a breakfast of whatever sustenance has been acquired in my fridge.
stoke fire.
chop more wood.
yoga in the woods.
depending on the day; go shower and head into town for work at the lovely book shop I have so serendipitously been afforded a lovely position at.
enjoy the smell of old books, and the company of my co-workers and the townsfolk.
drive home, careful not to hit any animals.
chop wood.
reset fire.
check out the interwebs for a while.
meditate on the day.
read.
nighty night.

There are many times when i find myself lonely and feeling lost in the woods. When I look around and I don't see all of the caring faces that I'm so used to seeing, when I come home and there is no one there to hug me and welcome me home. When i just need to see the beautiful smile of my amazing nieces, the one that can make even the darkest day seem sunshiny, or when I just need a glass of nice wine and an afternoon of girl talk. all of these things are out of reach. It's just me, alone. However, i am so thankful for these moments as well. I am on a journey, one that i never anticipated, one that makes me kick, scream, cry, and laugh at myself. I have beautiful moments to myself that i am learning to cherish.

Today I made a little video of the thing I seem to do the most of when I am alone, chop wood. It is unlike anything I have ever done, I often find myself laughing while doing it as the world just melts away and I literally generate a source of heat for myself. I'd like to see how I progress in technique along the way...  I have now filled three bins full of small wood as my fear of the encroaching winter deepens with each snow capped mountain range.

(please forgive my form, I'm slowly progressing, but I have only just learned how to wield an axe.)

A Brand New Adventure: Cross Canada

Ok, so its been a while since my last post. not to say that things have been un-eventful... they have been anything but... however I didn't have the capacity to write about them, and have now started a new adventure in my life, and am anxious to share all of the details about it.

A little spruce of the blog and we should be off and running.

So heres the dish:
I have taken a leave from my life in Ontario and decided to embrave (thats embrace and brave) the wilds of the Yukon Territory. I will be living in a small cabin about 30 minutes outside of the city of whitehorse on the yukon river.

I want to document the daily life of cabin living in the yukon. Back to a life more simple than the one that I have become so accustomed to. One with no running water or pumped in heat. A life less ordinary than we now live, but one that gives me all of the necessities in a way that I can be thankful for. I will try to share all of the specifics of this life, as well as the physical and emotional things that come along with it.

I decided to come to the yukon about as spontaneously as one can. A very dear friend offered me the opportunity to go, and 5 days later I was on the road to the most northern west corner of our beautiful country. it has always been my dream to see all of canada from the seat of my car, to explore the beautiful prairies, and marvel at the peaks of the rockies, stay under the stars in a tent, searching the depths of this old land for the spirit that lies within it.

Morning sunrise

The experince of driving across canada was a different one. Leaving behind so many wonderful things, people and experiences was a lot harder than it has ever been for me, due in large part to its spontaneity and my inability to make quick decisions. But as i set off in my little suzuki (suzie-q) early that Sunday morning, I knew that this adventure was going to probably be the most challenging one of my life so far, but also the most rewarding, frustrating, amazing, beautiful and honest journey ever.



I did the drive in 5 days, stats are as follows: 5576 km, five provinces, one territory, four nights, three seedy motels, 20 tanks of gas (i never let it get below 1/2), endless cups of coffee, and a lot of sugar from the goodie basket from mum. It was a journey with an intent... Whitehorse or bust!!

Here are the things that occurred to me throughout the country:

Lake Superior

when one is driving alone for so long, things that might not normally occur to someone tend to pop into your head. this was such the case for most of northern ontario. Northern ontario is a beautiful and majestic place. Especially after driving through the urban metropolis that is southern ontario. There are lakes and rivers everywhere, beautiful cliffs, incredibly old trees and a lot of wildlife.

Foggy mornings

Rest stop bliss

The trans-canada highway has many historical stops along the way and i wish i had time to stop at all of them.  It felt so amazing to begin my journey across the country on this part of the road, among the last to be completed, where men trekked through the forest from Wawa to Sault Ste. Marie, and were presumed lost and dead after 5 days to prove the desperate need for the road to be completed.

Wawa

With all of the lakes a rivers comes a lot of bridges. And for whatever reason, it seems that the summer of 2013 was the year they decided to fix the bridges. I wonder who thought it would be a good decision to close every single bridge in northern ontario across the trans-canada highway for several months... it occurred to me that I would like to find this person and make them sit in a sweltering car at 25 minute intervals for 12 hours. Not pleasant.. but hey, there are a lot of very large things to look at along the way; heres one.







My journey across the rest of the country was a quick one. I rarely stopped except to refuel, myself and Suzy-q. I laughed, sang, cried, screamed and talked for endless hours about this amazing journey that I was embarking on. EAch province brought a new landscape. The prairies brought a long slow calm that took hold of me in my car and made me the only one out there on the road. I began to see mountains emerging as i passed through alberta late at night. and i wondered how many other people had taken this very same journey, and what their intents were, and in-fact, what was my intent?

When I first saw a stone (or Rocky) mountain I was absolutely stunned. I had seen the mountains before but this was something else, something new. Perhaps it was the 4 days it had taken me to get there, the endless road in front of me, the lack of sleep, the anxiety of the unknown or the sheer beauty of this amazing place, but they brought me to tears. It was the last day of my journey and I was mere hours away. The rocks emerged when i came around a corner and I pulled over to enjoy this moment. so many things rushed through my head: where was i going, and where had i been. What was i doing?! could I make it in the quiet wilderness of the yukon? I would have to. They brought me calm and the whistle of the wind across the water let me know to let go of all of the inhibition, because this was a moment that I would want to remember. It was time to stop dreaming and start living.

 My new life was about to begin, one stone mountain at a time.

1000 Things to do before I die... work in progress

I have recently been asking a lot of questions of myself about where life will take me. I have begun compiling a list in my head of things I would like to do. Some of which, were goals in the past and  I have already achieved for myself. I needed a place to keep this list- I will add to the list and stories as my life moves forward.

1. live in a foreign country
2. visit a Buddhist temple and engage in meditative practices with monks/nuns.
3. complete my yoga teacher certification
4. study yoga in India in an ashram
5. visit the Angkor Wat in Cambodia
6. travel on the trans-Mongolian
7. give as much love as i can to the people around me
8. be happy- and find the happiness in each passing moment of each passing day
9. drive across canada alone, or with someone special
10. hitch-hike further than the next city
11. learn to play the guitar better, and write a (good) song
12. live in the yukon for a period of time
13. have something published
14. sky dive someplace magical
15. bungee jump in africa
16. go on a missions trip of some kind
17. fall madly and deeply in love
18. Trip to Bali
19. Pass on the knowledge of all that literature has done for my life... and can do for theirs.
20. learn ballet
21. be graceful and mindful throughout my life.
22. get married
23. own a house with a big yard not in suburbia
24. learn to sew my own clothes
26. fall completely in love with my work
27. achieve something that i have been dreaming of
28. visit egypt
29. write ... write... write...
30. keep in contact with all of the people who have passed through/become such a great part of my life
31. learn to bake all the delicious goodies from my Oma.
32. write my grandfathers memoir.
33. obtain a bow and arrow
34. live sustainably in the woods among the wild for an amount of time
35. grand canyon adventure
36. red-wood forest
37.  be at the Arctic Circle on summer solstice
38.

On being foreign...part 1

In the land of the morning calm, tucked away in the far reaches of the countries smallest towns hidden in the valleys, to the largest cities rising up from the mountainous landscape like a lego village you will find pockets of people who have come to this land from a different place. Sometimes they stick out like a sore thumb, their double eyelids causing quite a stir and their pale skin eliciting laughter and pointing from many a youngster. And as they pass by these pale faced beings a whisper can be heard with their wide eyes of wonder "Waygookin." which means "foreigner."
I find it amusing to think of myself as a foreigner. As someone who doesn't belong, and seemingly never will. I wonder what this can do to your psyche, constantly being called a foreigner until you identify yourself with this.

Identity changes depending on where you are. It makes you take a different point of view in your life. In any given place you could have several different identities, though usually one is the most prominent. It is a strange concept to identify yourself as ‘foreign.’  What does it exactly mean? The OED defines foreign as ‘strange and unfamiliar’ coming from the latin foras, or fortis which literally means ‘outside.’ So being classified as foreign automatically places the stigma of a strange being, something from outside, that you don’t necessarily want inside, an alien. How does having this stigma placed on someone, and never removed, affect the way a person identifies themselves.

I can classify myself as something different depending on where I am. When I am with my niece I am a loving aunt, with my brother I am a sister, and my mother I am a daughter. when I am at school I am a student, a writer, a researcher and an idealist.

When we are called foreign again and again, as we are in Korea, we come to identify ourselves as such, foreigners, and end up calling ourselves the word. This word, for me, has developed somewhat of a negative mean. It has become a dirty word in a sense.

It is only recently that Korea has begun to welcome and embrace different cultures. They prided themselves on being ‘pure’ and un inhabited by these outsiders.. these foreigners. But with a recent influx of military and teaching staff to their country they have had to adapt this attitude.

One of my friends who lives in Korea recently told me that they find being foreign in this county a “strange, horrific and wonderful experience” all rolled into one. She continued to point out that on one hand you get the experience of bringing yourself into a place that hasn’t dealt with you which is awesome, because you get to give them the positive impression you hope to create about these outsiders infiltrating the streets, but on the other hand, its difficult on your psyche to constantly be treated as an outsider, and often ignored, shooed away or blatantly yelled at because your background is different. I suppose coming from a non Asian country where most people have various backgrounds, and we are still of the generation where this is common, that it never would occur to us to identify someone as ‘not the same’ just because they look different. After all, aren’t we all just human beings?