with a donkey and some pygmy goats

I used to live in a cabin, with no running water, with no appliances, with only a solitary light bulb to light the middle of the 30X20 foot space. I had no bathroom. I had no bed. Just two couches, a turntable, a cd player, and a refrigerator filled with grapefruit juice and milk. My nights were spent sitting on the hood of my car, smoking cigars (cheap ones), listening to Miles Davis, and discussing the finer nuances of the 1998 NBA draft. Those were some decent times.

I am not exactly sure why my mind is focusing here, why it drifted to the cabin, how it was renovated to three room when I spend the summer in it again in 2003 following the passing of my father. How the rooms now offered a bed and a tv (with no reception) and a computer, but how it was still very much the same; no running water, no bathroom, grapefruit juice. I worked for the National Park Service Trail Crew, spending 8 days at a time in some of the most remote parts of Alaska pruning and cutting growth that overflowed into the hidden trail systems of Wrangell St. Elias National Park. So when I didn't live in a cabin with no running water and no bathroom, I lived in a tent, with cold, wet clothes and a distinct lack of home-cooked meals. And I miss it all in certain degrees very much.

My wife once commented in her blog of how she said she had been somewhat thinking about going back to PA and renovating her parents' house so that our family could fit in and live with them. I told her that I had been thinking of becoming more proactive in living out a life that I could believe in. I thought about living more extreme, setting ourselves outside of conventions that I don't believe in. . .I know she is afraid that we will live in a tent someday. I would settle for a cabin.

Society's conventions are not necessarily for me. I hear people talk often about what they want to do, what they do, and how they equate their own lifestyles with who they are. It is part of their character, their personality, and they are defined (somewhat) by much of these things. Different strokes, I guess, but I have no interest in massive toys or weekends out on wave runners or $2 beer night at Iggy's. I have no interest in working on weekends or settling for the highest buck or decimating the earth for progress. I have little interest (I say little because it sometimes sounds tempting) in the 2800 sq.ft. house with the two car garage in a neat little neighborhood. I have no interest in just going to church every Sunday and saying that I am a Christian. But I am a part of all of these things. I might not simply do all of them, but I am a part of them all, and I encourage it by working where I work, shopping where I shop, dining where I dine, and driving where I drive. All in spite of society's conventions not necessarily being for me.

I really do want something different, something that takes care of the earth God gave us, something that steps outside of conventional living and all it's trust in money and oil and that our nation will always remain the same. I want to be self-sustaining, to grow food, to live locally, to get my hands dirty, to worship God with my lifestyle that revolves more around Him and less on the product and process of the current common lifestyle. I do believe that we are called to something else, although I am not sure of the timing, the place, the people, but I believe that God has spoken a clear message to my family and me, about how to live on His earth. This has effected my politics, my choices of commerce, our home living, and our outlook on many things. I want to live more simply, in a more sustainable way, without raping the earth, without cheating people out of a fair wage, without relying on oil as our substitute god, without the pressures of society to do more, be more, make more money, improve moral by shopping because you need that new thing even though your old thing is still completely operational and functional. Maybe it is a pipe dream. Maybe I am too idealistic. Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I don't know what I am doing or what I am talking about. Maybe. Or maybe God is truly taking us in this direction, maybe to the green of Oregon or the woods of Montana or the community of Midvale. Maybe. I don't know. I do know that people thought we were weird or crazy or that we didn't know what we were doing when we decided to adopt three kids from Colombia. Crazy. Idealistic. Ignorant. God knows what He is doing, though, and that is where my faith lies, not in the conventions of society or man. So we wait for that call, to know how and when and with whom, to progress in the living of the life to which He has called us.

I would settle for a cabin with a donkey and some pygmy goats.

I saw the singing of the anthems last night before game 4 of the NHL finals. My favorite part. I am not exactly sure what it is about hearing crowds of people singing in unison, but it gives me goose bumps. I felt the same when singing "El Shaddai" at the Mormon Tabernacle when Ravi Zaccharias spoke there. What I do know is that those Canadians sing! And in two languages! I hope Ottawa wins game five so we can go back to Ottawa for another rendition. Simply wonderful.

I think my non-band is playing this weekend. I call it a non-band because we have only played together a few times and have not really worked out much of who we are or what we do. We have very different musical tastes and I figure to use this weekend as a test to see whether or not it will be worth hanging on and playing with these guys more. The drive is 30 minutes to practice, and time is not something that I have plenty of, so it is difficult. We will see. We can't even agree on a name, either, which is a sure sign of trouble. I think we should be called "I Want To Punch You In The Face." That would be sure to bring the people in...

Anyhow, I should probably go to bed. I am tired and allergic to whatever is in the air tonight, so my eyes are trippin'. Straight trippin'.