Life

Personal patio picnic!

I sit now on my patio, sipping a 7 & 7 and snacking on some Original Goldfish, in celebration of packing up my exterior life and having successfully delivered it all to a garage in Aurora. On April 5th it will depart by truck to Long Beach, CA (thanks to the strikes in Oakland), where it will then be put on a ship. I don't know where it will connect to after that and I don't know if it will travel by truck or train, or both, to make it inland to Ulaanbaatar. But it really doesn't matter--the reality is that it is on its way and should arrive before I do (on July 2nd). 

As I drove down I-25 with the sun setting over the front range, I thought a lot about LIFE. A common one, or an uncommon one? How would I define those? How would my friends and family define them? What makes a life matter? What is left when a life ends? What am I up to in life? What are you up to in life? It's a weighty subject, no doubt. I've never really cared to know the meaning of life......because I've known for a long time that LOVE is what gives meaning TO life. 

I was fortunate enough to have a great childhood and youth. I have two amazing parents who have stood behind me and encouraged me throughout my life. I have a unique and individual relationship with each of my siblings and a host of great friends. I've never lacked for love in my life. 

That said, the love between Z and I is different than anything I've known before. It is that soul connection of which I did not believe in.....until it happened to me. He knows me. Knows my heart, my soul, my mind. He calms me. Centers me. And the best part, I feel free to be myself and to be vulnerable. He will catch me when I fall, hold me steady when I falter, and celebrate me when I succeed. He gets me. He wants to KNOW me. 

Why do I feel the need to tell you all this? Because it's simple: Living a life

See how he makes me smile!

without his love is unimaginable. This is why moving to Asia seems like a no brainer to me. I want him. I like who I am when I'm near him. I like to think of whom I'm yet to become. 

We throw around the phrase "midlife crisis" fairly easily in America. I don't know if it is culturally universal, or unique to America. But I suspect that a number of people have looked at my life in the past 8 months and thought....yup...in her 40s....must be a midlife crisis. I'm not immune to the fact that I'm a walking cliche. Twice divorced, leaving a dream job, and throwing all known things into the wind in pursuit of a dream. An entirely new dream. One I could not have predicted 9 months ago. 

But I wonder....why do we choose to attach "crisis" to midlife? Why not transformation? Or evolution? Or, as a good friend of mine put it, a midlife awakening? Who decided it needed the negative connotation of crisis on the end of it? It might be a crisis....or it might not. 

For me.....my LIFE had lost luster in recent years. I remember being 18, graduating high school, and thinking about all the exciting forks in the road that were ahead of me. I felt that through my 20s...and even into my early 30s....but then, there were no more forks. Nothing left to discover or find. It felt like a dead end. No excitement ahead. And I was sad. 

But you see...one does not have to be resigned in life. It is a choice. And I choose other than resignation. I don't know how it will all play out and I'll have to figure plenty of things out AS I go (OMG....I won't have health insurance in July!!!)....but what's wrong with this approach? Not a darn thing. You see....I went from no forks....to an exciting new path with unknown forks around the bend. 

Yes, my life is mine to create. Just as yours, is yours. So are you creating it? 

First Freakout

I began an entirely different post this 

morning but have to abandon it

Thanks, Jason, for the discount!

(momentarily) because I believe I'm having my first real freakout. 

My apartment is in total disarray--shoes all over the place, stacks of books, boxes with name and number on them, others waiting to be shrink-wrapped, a pile for Goodwill, a pile for the trash, and random belongings in every nook and cranny--as I prepare a final load of boxes for container shipment. This will need to happen some evening this week as the April 5th deadline looms over me. 

But what's really got me is that I JUST made the switch to an iPhone. I picked the phone and case up yesterday and then visited the Sprint store this afternoon (thanks to Kira for excellent assistance and explanation!). 

I got my first MacBook (Air) back in August and am yet in the process of adjusting to it. Overall I really like it, but with my work laptop still a PC, I'm straddling both realms, saving things to both and moving items back and forth. I need to purchase MS Office for the Mac.....that's on the to-do list. 

I KNOW I will love the iPhone in no time (I am assured by all my friends and family that I'll never want anything BUT an iPhone!), but right now I miss the comfort of my old Samsung s3. I know...it's SO old. But it has been my technological home for the past two years and I feel unsettled without it. Though I immediately downloaded all of my preferred apps, nothing is where I know it to be, the keyboard wouldn't let me swype (Thanks to a friend...I just downloaded Swype for a small cost), the sounds are all different, Zedge is not an option, and I think I shouldn't have had Kira wipe the Samsung clean--there were a few texts and voicemails I should have reviewed first. 

Patio visitor....random furry therapy? Perhaps.

I initially started to pace aimlessly around my apartment, then thought about eating something (though I'm not hungry). So here I am....sitting in the shade on my patio....writing it out. I started in my journal, but then thought, NO--I need to record this for posterity and for those that are following me. Because you see....this is only the beginning. 

In the weeks and months to come, I will be pushed and pulled beyond all known comfort zones. I will feel untethered, ungrounded, and all kinds of out-of-sorts. I can't predict the situations or the circumstances....but I know the feelings of unease are out there....like hobgoblins on Halloween....and I will have to deal with them, one by one, along the path I travel. 

So in this moment.....on this warm and sunny afternoon in Colorado.....I'm sitting right here and calling out the weirdness. I'll text my friends to help me learn the phone. I'll finish the packing in the next day or two. And before I know it, I'll be teaching two sections of American Lit and sprinting through the last 40 school days. Before I know it, June will be here and my departure just around the corner. Yes, I should be grateful for a moment of unease in familiar surroundings and with good friends close by.....it is a luxury of sorts, really.

My humble request at this time is twofold.....(1) listen when I freak out--but don't react, and (2) choose to deal with your own fears head on. Because you see.....we all come full circle and back to Fear. It is our nemesis in this life. I think. 

Places that feel like Home

We are reading Edward Abbey's "Desert Solitaire" for my book club (meeting in April). I've only just begun it, but the opening lines struck me and made me think. They go like this:

"This is the most beautiful place on earth. There are many such places. Every man, every woman, carries in heart and mind the image of the ideal place, the right place, the one true home, known or unknown, actual or visionary. ...--there's no limit to the human capacity for the homing sentiment."

Dad on the steppe

This made me ponder the places that have been home for me. There is no singular place, but rather a progression of homes that I've loved over the years. 

In my childhood and youth it was the north woods--Michigan--both our home on the Pigeon River Country (northern lower peninsula) and our cabin in the Upper Peninsula. The soft cushion of rotting leaves beneath my feet, the sound of merry chickadees, and being wrapped tightly within thickets of trees. I was never afraid of being in the woods in Michigan (contrary to my experience hiking the trails in Colorado where a mountain lion could be lying in wait!). Yes, being barefoot beneath the mixed hardwoods of Michigan was the first home I knew.

Then we moved to Pennsylvania. The woods there were similar, but I never knew them as intimately as I knew Michigan. Besides, I was a teenager and more interested in friends and doing social things. It was a different kind of a home. A school where I could excel at things and discover whom I wanted to be and become. My final three years in high school were fantastic. More than PA being a home, I had my first experience of, "You can never go home again." I moved west to Idaho in 1995 and when I came back to celebrate Christmas in 1996 it occurred to me that PA, though my mother and siblings yet lived there, it was no longer home. I began to recognize that home was something I carried inside myself. 

And yet, I have experienced the power of place. A feeling of enchantment, or mysticism, that connects something in my core with the earth, the surroundings, of particular places. Three places come to mind.

First, walking amongst the hoodoos of Bryce Canyon National Park. Dad and I took a three week trip through NM, AZ, and Utah. We visited a number of parks--the Grand Canyon, Death Valley, Zion, Bryce, Capitol Reef, and Natural Bridges to name the highlights. They were all stunning in their own ways and I was surprised by the diversity within the state of Utah (if you haven't traveled there, I highly recommend you do!). But Bryce pulled on my soul. Dad and I took the longest hike we could find that took us down amongst the hoodoos, the Fairyland Loop. It was one of the most peaceful and beautiful places I'd ever been and we encountered very few others on the trail. I was enchanted there. 

In the summer of 2013 I had the opportunity to attend a writing workshop at Ghost Ranch in Abiquiu, NM. I had dreamed of visiting this place for a number of years, ever since visiting Santa Fe and learning that it was a place that had so inspired Georgia O'Keeffe (I always preferred her landscapes and cityscapes...not the flowers). I was fortunate enough to have her same birthday and have felt an affinity for her character, her choices in life, her zest for life. So to spend a week on this land was a gift, for sure. 

I parked on a Monday afternoon and didn't again get in my car until I HAD to leave come Sunday morning. Many people take day trips to Santa Fe or Chama. I did not want to leave! It was, at the time, the most beautiful place I'd ever visited. I felt the most at peace that I'd ever felt in my life in this space. Serenity, gratitude, centered. Those are the feelings it evoked. The views were beyond stunning and it was easy to understand why Georgia was enthralled by it. I was too. I always thought I'd make it back there.......but then there was Mongolia. 

As I may have said before, Mongolia began to call to me in 2010. I can't explain why or how.....I'm sure three or five years prior I was completely unaware of it. But there was something in Dad's pictures from his 2009 trip that spoke to me. Pulled on me. Dad and I wanted to make another great trip together (previous ones being Alaska and the Southwest). He left it to me to choose. In my mind, there was no place on earth more exotic than Mongolia. I needed to put my feet on the steppe. I had never been attracted to Asia before this time.....but it was a strong and magnetic-like pull. Yes, I wanted to be on that landscape. My soul knew it, desired it. 

And Mongolia did not disappoint. From the Gobi desert to the steppe in Hustai National Park and to the Onon river valley we fished. It was all beautiful and enchanting. 

The expansiveness was what I loved the most. No matter the landscape, one could see to the horizon, miles and miles away. And not a fence in sight. Nothing to make you feel caged or constrained by boundaries. I felt so free in Mongolia. It was everything I imagined it to be, and so much more. 

My new home. Apartment on 4th floor. Light is on.

While I only explored a small fraction of what IS Mongolia, I'm looking forward to Zorig sharing more and more of his country with me as I make it my new homeland. But to get started, I will move into the apartment in this picture. We will live on the fourth floor where you can see the light is on. This street in front is for pedestrians only, a type of park. I've always wanted to live in a big city and have the urban lifestyle. BUT....it must be balanced with time on the land, "in the countryside," as they say in Mongolia. I have no doubt my desires for both will be met. 

So I want to leave you with the question: Where have you felt most at home? Is there just one place, or many? Is it the people, or the land, or the memories that make it so? 

Moving up the Reality Scale

Morning Hike in Red Rock Canyon

I got word this weekend that a container shipment to Mongolia departs on April 5th. The message arrived from Zorig while I was hiking in Red Rock Canyon Open Space with my cousin, Roz. First I was excited. This gives me a deadline, a goal to work towards. And those that know me....know I am a planner, an organizer, a type A personality. Though I've been sorting and packing since Z left me on Feb 10th, it was with a lack of definitive purpose. The call could come in March, or April, or May....I really didn't know. So I meandered towards some deadline out on the horizon somewhere, but could not clearly see it. 

As we paused to sit and take in the the breezy Colorado morning, I repeated to myself aloud, "April 5th!" And the reality settled in. This is IT...my one chance to ship stuff at a reasonable rate. It's time to quit packing at a leisurely pace and to GET IT DONE. I move out of this apartment in 68 days and leave for UB in 98. While I still have days where my departure seems too far away...that my reunion with Zorig is not coming nearly quickly enough.....this update makes the move that much more REAL. It's one of the many steps ahead of me that will move me up on the reality scale. 

Don't misunderstand me, I have no second-guesses, no doubts about this move. No misgivings about what I feel or what I want. But stepping through the actions necessary to get to my new life in Mongolia with Zorig and Enji is still a new and unknown path. It does not feel familiar, is not like moves I've made in the past. It's a new frontier. It's easy to say..."I'm moving to Mongolia!"....but something entirely different to GET IT DONE. 

The next good news is that I am on Spring Break until March 31. My company departed today (Thanks for the GREAT TIME together, Roz!) and I will now get down to business--packing, carting it to Denver, making payment for my life to be transported across the Pacific and to UB where Zorig will receive it. It will travel for 45-60 days, arriving before I do. Yes, it is time to GET IT DONE. 

I'll be seeing you soon....with more details about this new stage of my adventure. Thanks for reading.

Hiatus

Today I embark on my third and final Interim trip with Fountain Valley School freshmen. We return to Bent's Old Fort for a second time. You can see pictures from last year on my Flickr photostream. It's a unique opportunity to sleep on ground that was walked by a host of historic figures: Kit Carson, William and Charles Bent, and Uncle Dick Wooten to name just a few. 

2014 Interim group

It's seven days and six nights with a co-leader (my good bud Kathe!) and 11 exceptional young adults who are up for whatever life offers. 

The downside? In addition to being 6K miles from Zorig, I will spend about 3-4 days "off the grid" with no contact. 

This also means that the blog will be "silent" for about a week. See you when I return.

Initial thoughts on Becoming an Expat

Day 6 of our American Holiday together

Soon I will become an expatriate--a person that lives outside their native country. When I hear the term expat, I think of Americans in Paris and Hemingway in Cuba and retired Americans moving to Costa Rica or Mexico for a slower pace of life. I don't know that these are truthful associations...but they are my free associations nonetheless. 

When I first started to imagine a future with Zorig and determined that the optimal path was for me to move to Mongolia, I began to do research online. This is what any self-respecting librarian would do first. Where does one begin, you might ask? Well, I started with, "moving abroad for love." Pretty direct and basic. I immediately discovered this was not an unusual thing to Google. As you type, "moving abroad for...," right under "for a year" (first option) is "for love" (second). 

The first article I found was helpful. Written by an Australian expat living in Italy, Elisa didn't pull any punches. While I was at the start of my movie-like romance (and yet find myself fully immersed in it), this article was about real life. 

What I was setting out to do was not going to be easy. And her move didn't seem as drastic as mine is going to be--from America to Asia. The article explains what to consider and plan for BEFORE you move, what to do once you arrive, and what to expect in the weeks and months that follow. What stood out for me most in this article was that it won't serve me to be brave or strong or to keep my fears and feelings inside. I will need to tell Zorig when I am sad, when I miss my family, when I am frustrated. He will need to know so that he can support me as I cycle through those emotions and thoughts. There is really nothing I can do to prepare for them or to avoid them...they are simply part of the process.

Heather with Marina, our guide/interpreter in Siberia.

Side story: Meet Marina (left). She was Dad and I's guide and interpreter for our time in Siberia. She too is on the path to expatriation. This fall she moves to Australia to make a new life with a man she met when he was touring her country in 2012. 


Other advice is to take language lessons (which I will do) and to find a job (Check!). She recommends making friends with both fellow expats and with locals. During my initial research I also discovered Internations.org, an online community for expats around the world, and promptly joined. I'm not yet active, but was able to ask a few initial questions of some expats currently in UB. Thankfully, I will also have a built-in community of expats from working at ASU. And of course, I am most anxious to meet Zorig's local friends. He's an affable guy and has a diverse group of fascinating friends, as well as an extended family that lives in the city. Elisa recommends making a plan to get involved in extracurriculars. In this vein, I will need to tour the various gyms that are within walking distance of our apartment so that I can be active and stay healthy.

Finally, the author says to be sure and have a plan for when you will see your family next. Luckily my father will be coming to visit this summer, either right as I arrive or shortly thereafter. Then I will make an initial long haul to Christmas of 2016 when I will return to the U.S. for the first time. This will be for our Christmas-in-Michigan event (occurs every 5 years and is a pilgrimage for the whole family). I look forward to sharing Michigan, my family, and Christmas with Zorig and Enji. While Zorig has met all in my immediate family except one sister, this will be Enji's first opportunity to meet his grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins from my family. I will certainly hope for a white Christmas! 

Beyond that initial article, I found one that discusses the five stages of expatriation: Excitement, Homesickness, Anger, Depression, and Decision Time. Why are there always five stages? Curious. 

But wait....now that I know there are stages of expatriation, I did a new search and found a slightly different take on what is called the "Five Stage Cycle of Crosscultural Adjustment." The stages in this article are: Honeymoon, Culture Shock, Initial Adjustment, Mental Isolation, and finally Acceptance & Integration. What stood out to me in this second explanation of cycles was the description of how the American woman felt the need to always be doing something, to be USING her time. 

First pic that has Z & I both in it...from summer

This is one of the aspects of moving to Mongolia that excites me the most....while I am also keenly aware that it will be a huge adjustment for me. My friends and family  know that I am what we call a Type A person. I'm a planner and scheduler. I like to have routine and structure. In fact, I don't even like writing on paper if it doesn't have lines to hold my words. BUT, I am excited to move to a place where people eat when they are hungry and not just at predetermined feeding times. I'm excited to sleep when I feel tired and NOT feel guilty or bad about it. I am excited to listen to my body more and my head less. To go with the flow. To be free. 

So at this time....if you are still with me.....I would like to say that you will probably hear me complain or grumble about life in Mongolia at some point. NOT because I don't want to be there or because I made a bad decision, but because I am working through one of the tougher stages of this process. Please listen and support me so that I may get through it and on to the next and eventually final stage. Then....come and visit! :)

New purchases for the Journey ahead

Down Jacket

I confess that I'm having a bit of a spending problem these days. While I certainly know I can purchase goods in UB, winter is wrapping up around here and it seems like a good time to invest in winter gear as well as those essentials I'm confident I'll need in my new life and surroundings. 

From simple things like thermal underwear and turtlenecks to an 800-fill Down Jacket (right), all of which I will need to get me through the often brutal winters in Mongolia. Ulaanbaatar is THE coldest capital city in the world. The average daily temp is -13 Celsius (which is 8 degrees Fahrenheit), but it can be -40 at night (which is the same no matter which scale you use!). 

Mongolia is a stunningly beautiful country and is blessed with four seasons which I have enjoyed all my life--from Michigan to Pennsylvania to Idaho to Colorado. Now I will experience those seasons on a different continent. In case you are thinking you'd like to visit us (we'd LOVE to have you!), read more about their seasons here. Of course summer is the most delightful!

To get me there

Additionally, since Zorig left with my red Large North Face Camp Duffel (which had been purchased specifically for Dad and I's trip to Mongolia--it seemed fitting to send it on home), I needed to replace it and let's get real, I will be checking at least one extra bag when I get on that plane this summer (two pieces are included for international travel). I'll take my one large ordinary suitcase and these two new duffels. They are sturdy and waterproof and perfect for the work and adventures we'll be having down the road. 

Watching Z stock up on supplies for work and for fun probably motivated me somewhat for this pre-move shopping spree. But considering I don't plan to make it back to the US until the end of 2016, I think it wise to prepare and plan ahead. 

For riding

Then of course, since Zorig has been kind enough to purchase me my own saddle (really!!), it was imperative to get a new pair of Ariat lace-up ropers (I wore my last pair out a few years back) for the time we'll be spending on horseback covering the steppe and mountains, and perhaps doing a little hunting along the way. I'll spend a little time breaking these in now so that they will be ready for action come summer and fall. 

Yes, I have been busy with the shopping amidst the continued sorting and packing. I'm waiting for the day when I get the call to take my prepared boxes and crates to Denver from where they will be gathered together with the boxes of others to be piled into a large shipping container (conex), sent to Los Angeles, loaded on a ship, and then will spend 45-60 days en route to Mongolia--my new home. I've never been a fan of the packing up....but have always loved the unpacking process in a new space. 

Oh yeah....and one more very important item--the dress I will wear for arrival back into the Chinggis Khaan International Airport, a place I departed on Wednesday, August 6th, 2014, with no intention of ever returning. 

A word of advice....or perhaps a powerful suggestion: Keep an eye out for those U-turns in life......or find that clear path between the crush of traffic to take an unexpected exit ramp......they can be the most shocking and wonderful things you encounter in your life.  

P.S. And no...there will be no picture of the dress. At least not until it touches ground in Mongolia!

Wonder

Please read these two definitions of the word Wonder......

Wonder: to be filled with admiration, amazement, or awe; marvel

Wonder: a feeling of surprise mingled with admiration, caused by something beautiful, unexpected, unfamiliar, or inexplicable. 

Now think about the last time you experienced a feeling of wonder.......

What Google Images turns up for Child & Wonder.

On a child....it might look something like this....  

.......really....stop and close your eyes and try to remember that moment and how you felt inside. 

What caused it? How did it feel in your heart? In your mind? In your gut? Were others present? Or were you alone? 

And what did you do with the feeling? Did you pause to be IN IT? Or did it move you to SHARE IT? 

Okay......thank you, for indulging me on that exercise. You see, this evening I was overcome by wonder. Getting home from work just after 4 pm, I was determined to get outside and get some exercise. It was 24 degrees (Fahrenheit that is...which is about -4 Celsius) and snow began to rain down on me about halfway through the nearly 4 mile walk. I was a bit chilled with the wind in my face....but more than anything, I FELT WONDER. 

Wonder to feel so alive and so free. Yes...that is what I feel at this juncture in my life. Some call it a midlife crisis (that's a whole other post topic!), some call it crazy, some call it....oh, I don't even know what they are saying about me. (Insert eye roll and shoulder shrug here.)

But I want to tell you that I feel acutely alive....aware of all my senses, in tune with the world on a micro, and a macro, level. 

You see, tonight as I walked the sidewalks of Old Colorado City, listening to a workout mix on Pandora, I found myself wanting to throw my arms out to the side, looking to the sky and collecting snowflakes in my eyelashes, with a wide smile across my face.....just wondering at life and this moment. Feeling fully alive. And then I look at the people in the cars driving down the street.....and I thought....I must look strange to them. But you know.....none of them were looking at me. They were on their phones (mostly), or talking to the person beside them, or scolding the child in the backseat, or looking at the streetlight. 

Therein lies the part of the definition that stands out....."feeling of surprise." You see....Wonder has to shock us, move us, past the ordinary everyday stuff.....to see ourselves, our lives, in a new light. 

Tonight.....I wish you the experience of WONDER....it can be so magical. As I know. :)

Collecting Things

So this sorting and packing project is requiring a lot more time and energy than I anticipated. It's easy to assess, say, your clothing. If you haven't worn it in a year or more, then it's time to send it to Goodwill. But the bits and pieces of your past that hold sentimental meaning.....well they are a bit more difficult. Some items tell the history of Heather. Some items share about a specific aspect of my personality. Some things are simply a record of a past accomplishment. 

Two of many Wolf items

But today I'm pondering the American--at least I think it's an American inclination--need, desire, or practice of collecting certain things. For example, as a young teen I felt a strong fascination and pull to the wolf as an animal. I began collecting wolf items--from plates to shirts to figurines and art and coffee mugs. Why the wolf? I had an affinity for them because while they do mate for life, there is also the occasional lone wolf that never aligns themself to a pack. They are a loyal creature and beautiful beyond description. I've been lucky enough to just see one in the wild in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan when I was about 12 years old. He was a sight!

Some Madonna stuff

Later in my teens, I became obsessed with Madonna. I loved her from the very beginning--from Borderline and Lucky Star. I loved her funky sense of style and her no-apologies attitude. I spent hours in my room making up dances to her songs (I remember some moves to White Heat to today!). I bought every magazine cover with her face on it and to this day I arrive to the music store to purchase her album (okay, now I visit iTunes!) on the day it becomes available. Anyone that knew me in high school or college associates me with Madonna. From time to time you'll see a post on my Facebook wall letting me know of some Madonna news. 

There are other less specific things I "collect"....like coloring books (some of my Precious Moments books are over 15 years old), crayons, stuff with Chickadees on it (my favorite bird), and of course books. 

I just packed the fifth bin of my "stuff" for container shipment. I have a lot yet to pack, despite weeding things at every turn. I guess that Library degree and the weeding skills that accompanied it are coming in mighty handy. But what to do with these collections of things? And why do we collect things to begin with? Psychology Today has an webpage repository to discuss it! In recent years there's been the whole hoarding phenomena brought to light---with full blown TV shows and now it's considered a disorder (Hoarding Disorder!). As I said previously, I'm not a hoarder or a pack rat; however, I have carried certain things with me throughout my life. At this juncture the evaluation process is more hefty. More deliberate. 

After a little online research--as a librarian that's pretty much a requirement--I liked what The Guardian has to say about why we collect. There can be different reasons for different people and ages, of course, but the following seemed to define my reasons:

"..another is that collecting is motivated by existential anxieties – the collection, an extension of our identity, lives on, even though we do not."

For me it is about my identity and what I feel I connect to and what represents some part of me. However, I am certainly NOT Madonna nor do I have dreams of being famous (published, but not famous). Perhaps more interestingly, at the end of that Guardian article is the comment that humans have only been collecting things for the last 12,000 years when they gave up their nomadic lifestyles and settled in one location. While I will not become a nomadic herder in Mongolia, it has been their traditional way of life for centuries and 45% of the population yet lives that way. But in a way, I am becoming a type of nomad. I am packing up and moving to Asia for an entirely new life and the adventure that accompanies it. So what, you may ask, makes the cut?

Well, the wolf stuff will journey the Pacific because myself, Zorig, and Enji all LOVE the wolf. This is one of those "signs" that I wrote about previously. In fact, Enji tells me there is a superstition related to wolves in Mongolia--if you see a wolf, you'll get lucky three years. I LOVE this. So much better than all the bad luck that seems to accompany OUR superstitions (ladders, black cats, etc). So my wolf items will find a new home in Mongolia. 

My Chickadee mug.

As for Madonna, I just don't know. Perhaps a few items will go...but the Sex book, while it was a scandal when it came out....seems silly to own in the here and now. (But I will read through it tonight before discarding it!) The coloring books go! I will be hosting afterschool activities at ASU and coloring is such a peaceful and relaxing thing to do. I also purchased three new boxes of Crayola crayons.....because YES, I am a crayon snob! My chickadees will go--a mug, a small picture. They make me smile....and remind me of a dear friend with whom I share a love of birds. 

So I guess I'll end with this....what do you collect? Why do you collect it? And what will your collection matter in long run? Would you take it halfway around the world with you?