Freedom & Security

The earth and her energy,
Always changing, always positioning herself
Where the light and black holes are needed the most.
Her quest of topical balance.

Trust self.
Solace in self. 
Faith. Buckets of it!

Never promise comfort.
It is a sham place to stay, anyways.
Be responsible.
Own your rent. It's all over your skin.
Seek it yourself.
Security lives inside freedom, that I promise!


I don't want a house on a plot of land.
I want a house on a string, tied to a balloon.
I'm okay with getting a little carried away. 
And I'm okay if you never do.

Helios, God of the Sun, what is this?
Big Bang of creation!
Stars of continuation! 
You are abundant.

It is enough.
I have enough.
I am enough.

I must be allowed to see the ocean inside of everything.
I must be allowed to touch the ocean inside of everyone.
I cannot compromise, for this swim is far too precious and terrifying! 

I'm going swimming now!

This is me. This is me. This is me.
Shameless, and full embodied. 


Restless, but rest assured,
 We are not really going anywhere.
We are already there.

The light, the black holes, the helium houses, the midnight swims...

Do not ask where I went, or where I have been.
I never left.
Not once. 

Quit Trailing Off and Come Back to Center

Quit Trailing Off and Come Back to Center: How the Appalachian Trail Taught Me What I Needed to Know in Just 200 miles

The Appalachian Trail, one of North America’s most beautiful and scenic hiking trails, covering over 2,000 miles, weaving through 14 different east coast states, is a journey and an adventure of a lifetime. It’s a journey and a trip that one must feel from within. Just like any path, it too is sacred and divine in its own right, if you have the heart and trail legs for it.

My journey along the Appalachian Trail taught me many great life lessons in a very short amount of time. Lessons on letting myself be the leader, knowing when to merge and when to part, trusting time and nature, and reclaiming my own happiness and curiosity along my life path.

I must admit that hiking the Appalachian Trail in its entirety or in sections was never part of my life plan. Yes, I enjoy a lengthy day hike every now and then or a spontaneous weekend backpacking trip, but living in the forest for a month has never been a goal of mine. The driving force for this hike was love. Or was it fear?

Since I had started dating my boyfriend, hiking the AT had always been a goal and dream of his. Before we started dating, he talked about the trail. In the middle of our courtship, the trail was still in his plan. When he asked me to jump on board, my go-to answer was always, “Nope. I support you fully, but that is just not my thing”. I kept true to that answer up until two months before he was leaving. All of a sudden, I felt a shortness of breath, not ready to let him go, stressed by how fast time had passed, and not knowing where I would be if he left and I stayed behind.

I changed my mind. I like to think I followed my heart, but that I may never know.

I decided to go with him. With no camping or backpacking gear, I decided to spend almost all of my savings for everything I would need. With countless trips to REI, shopping and researching equipment, and hundreds of e-mail threads to my boyfriend discussing gear, weight, ounces, incessantly weighing out pros and cons of every single purchase, I finally had everything that I needed. I was ready to venture off with just a backpack, live a simple life, and be happy. This was my lesson in knowing when to merge.

My experience on the trail was not easy. I imagined the trail to be contemplative, mindful, a bit desolate, and something more spiritual. I imagined my days filled with ample time to read, write, practice yoga, and make love. In reality I found myself feeling rushed, expected to hike many more miles than I comfortably wanted, with poison sumac on my butt, and a urinary tract infection that lasted for days. I found myself unhappy, lonely and separated from my boyfriend, and I seemed to cry or feel like crying a lot with no safe place to go. I was in one of the most beautiful forests that was just revealing it’s beauty as spring time was just beginning to show herself, but something was not aligned and I felt deeply unsatisfied. How could this be? I had just worked so hard to make this happen for myself. I thought this was what I wanted.

After 200 miles on the trail, experiencing both highs and lows, I confidently decided to step off the trail, to follow my passion, and my true path no matter where that path would lead me. I decided to not be guided so much by external love or fear, and to listen to myself. I decided to find my own happiness, no matter what, even letting go of a relationship, and once again embarking on a new trail alone. After I left the trail, life was simple again. I guess sometimes living with just a backpack can have it’s own satchel of complications.

This is when I learned to radically let go.

What I found was bliss, love, and my innermost center. 

And more love. 

There is a distinct feeling when one is on their true path. It is a feeling of unfolding, of great excitement, and of true wisdom. It is a feeling of inspiration and great confidence, moments where instant manifestation is available, and new growth, faces, and opportunities appear abundant. The true path and knowingness feels fertile and supportive of life. The true path has infinite surprises and gifts to show us. The unique journey we all have yet to uncover lies in a moment’s choice to choose to listen to our internal compass, and allow ourselves to be guided by our own divinity.

Appalachian Magic & Uppsee

Howdy! 

Today is my 7th day of experiencing this trail-life sub-culture type of livin'! We actually only hiked 2 miles today, got a ride into Hiawassee, GA from a man named Jim who was parked in a parking lot off the trail chanting Buddhist chants. (Lots of synchronistic moments, this was but one of the many thus far!)

We got a ride to our first hostel this morning and will be our first bed to sleep in this past week. The other nights have been either in a tent with the net, under a tarp with no net, and last night we decided to just lay our sleeping bags out under the stars. After we took showers and washed our clothes at the Blueberry Patch Hostel this morning, we hitch-hiked and got a ride from Sheriff Wayne into town. Wayne was a nice southern man who was jamming Eminem, something I found lovely since a lot of the music I brought for this trip was hip-hop and rap : ) Just to change things up a bit.

Oh man the Trail Magic, or just the good luck and good fortune that comes your way when hiking is REAL.100%

Just when we have run out of water, to be without a spring for another 4 miles, there is someone waiting at the bottom of the hill before the highway intersects our path with gallons of h20. Remarkable. Blessed faith.

My body has already begun to undergo quite a bit of change. My knees were killing me the first day of hiking. So much that I cried myself to sleep, thinking that I was sure to have to pack it up and go home early. The next morning, there was no pain in my knees.

I have been approaching this hike like I approach yoga: erring on the gentle side, yet persistent vigor, respecting the body, and rejoicing in making modifications. No competition. No judgment. Taking breaks to catch my breath, moving slow. My trekking poles are my second pair of feet and I love them so dearly.

The first 3 days were rough. Knee pain. Blisters. Fatigue. Bad shoes. (Got new shoes on our first stop in Neels Gap). But it is getting easier and I am learning.

The beauty is overpowering. The mountain air gets me high!

Strong body, open heart.

All in perfect timing!

LOVE,

Uppsee (my trail name that was given to me!)

Bodies to Bees to Butterflies

A poem I wrote...maybe 4 or 5 years ago. I found it on the interweb, and decided to repost it.
To keep it alive.



I hear their bodies move, along with the crisp sheets.
As they change positions, they simultaneously pause.

The world fades away and they all of a sudden have the energy.
The energy to touch wings. Or was it mouths?
In the midst of a silent slumber.
The energy to take the time to slide their fingertips
along the others bare shoulder.
The energy to lift their lashes, just for a quick glimpse,
before sleepily pointing them back down.

All before fading back into their sweet, sweet dreams.

There is stillness.
They are still.
Their nectar drifts to my side of the room.
Seeing their sweetness puts me in a place that I have not been in a long while.
It brings a smile to my face and a flutter to my eye
But it also makes me realize:
I am alone.

I am the only one to manipulate these wings of mine. 
How badly I wish you were here.


Not again.
The Butterflies!
They spin and swirl in my abdomen, blindly mistaking my cavity for a way of release.
The only escaping them, those butterflies, is for this to morph into nothingness.
I am not there yet.
Honey.

May I call you honey?
You say ‘we are bees’
But we are butterflies.
And I could never settle for anything less than butterflies.

When the next moon arises,
Will you please come over and ruffle my wings?
Tangle me and entrap me.
I would love nothing more
Than to get lost in this with you.

We could lose our color and our appeal,
The will of flight and the drive to pollinate.
We could change our names,
Cocoon ourselves.

Just as they do.

Warriors and Cups

            I seem to have found myself surrounded by children, teenagers, or populations of youth the past months. I work with children just about everyday; either as a nanny or babysitter for children who have loving parents that are fortunate enough to hire a nanny or babysitter, or I am working with children (mostly teens) in a shelter. The children in the shelter come from broken homes where they have been abandoned, neglected, or abused. Most of these youth are Hispanic or black, differing from my ethnicity and the heritage I was raised in. Not only am I white skinned, I am terribly fair skinned, fair eyed, and fair-haired.

            When I work in the shelter, it is as if I am entering a very different universe, an entirely different species of thought, behavior, and existence—even the language is sometimes different. "Saca la basura y limpia tu cuarto!"

             I enter a universe of trauma survivors, children who have blamed themselves for burdens as large as mountains, that no human could possibly create, a world where their gifts have never been pointed out to them, a universe that houses bright cities of possibility, but the electricity bill was neglected to be paid.

When I go to work, I make sure to put on my warrior suit, because some days I need protection. Some days I am not sure what words will fly through the air, trying to stab me, or the possibility of a pain projected and clenched so tight that a fist through the air is the only perceived outlet. 

I have to wear a warrior suit because I work with young warriors. They are tough and iron to the bone. They are rough, and sometimes mean. They have abilities to lie, cheat, and steal because that is what they were taught. They have a whole universe to unravel, un-do, un-know, and so much to let go of. 

They are strong, so very strong willed. Their hearts are some of the strongest I’ve ever seen. Their hearts are guarded and protected, cradled like an infant, exactly how they swear they will treat their own children one day. 

And you can imagine the delight an outsider like myself must experience when I get to see these young warriors open their hearts, even for a moment. To realize that a rapport is being created right now! To be able to listen to these young, strong-headed, warriors tell of the tales of horror and hell of their pasts, and to soften their hearts enough to tell a stranger like myself, that they are scared, deeply saddened, and wounded of what was. The immeasurable compassion and empathy shown at key and crucial moments by all of the staff, counselors, and other mentors like myself is sometimes enough to take even the tightest of chains one link looser around the most imprisoned of hearts. 

There are two cups that I recognize with the population of youth I work with. One cup has no bottom, for it is the drain of human emotion, energy, and symbolized deprivation. The feeling and embodiment of not having enough, a constant and plaguing hunger. The other cup is a spring and well of human emotion, energy, and symbolized plenty. This second cup has much to offer, give, heal, and connect to. The second cup quenches the thirst of the first, and is the ultimate Band-Aid.

Some weeks I forget the second cup of life even exists in this world of profanity, violence, drugs, and street smarts. Then a child opens up. A child takes me into their world, and shares a piece of their life with me, a piece of their skin with me, failing to see the difference between my fair skin and their ebony skin. At that rare and dazzling moment, reminders of the second cup flood my mind, and wash away every instance of the first cup; for the second cup, the cup of heart connection, trust, and love is the very reason why I put myself in the battlefield of warrior’s everyday.

Moon Trip has a little change of Heart.

I smile as I come back to my blogspot, which has been abandoned for many months now. I smile and feel an incredible warmth by reading the title of my blog: Your mountain is waiting, so get on your way.  


Ah, yes. Reaffirms everything, and the point of this post right now. For many months I have been prompted to go on a very large are lengthy trip. Hiking the Appalachian Trail with my siggy-other*.
A six month, over 2,000 mile rigorous hiking trip. 

"Eh, no babe...that is your thing, your trip. I fully support you, gonna miss the hell outta you, but I've got other things to do on my path. Like grad school, work, save money..."

The above was almost my exact excuse for at least 9 months now.

AND THEN. The epiphany and greatest scheme my mind has conjured up since NYC days...

I can HAVE and EXPERIENCE both!


My hopeful plan of grad school in August...work for the next few months....and do maybe half of the Appalachian trip.  Sounds like a win. Moving to Colorado for grad school (fingers crossed...still waiting...) has totally justified purchasing expensive and necessary hiking gear. What better place to be ready for a hike than the good ol' Rockies?


 I think the next plan of action is to get my mind right for all of this. Starting by taking my own ownership of this trip. Seeing my individual journey and mountains to overcome while being part of a pairing. Creating my own reasons and intentions for joining. Creating a path just as much as I am joining on an already planned and paved path. Asking myself pensive questions, and working on creating and redefining those answers. Getting involved in the plans and realizing that the mountains have been waiting on me this whole time to just say YES!



Getting on my way,

Moon Trip ;)















*siggy other: aka. my boo, my man, my love shack  :)

Ideas are to Seeds as Actions are to Flowers

So it's been a hot minute since I have even had the time to post. But not having the time is a silly excuse, since it is 4am and I do have to work in a few hours. SLEEP WHEN THE BODY IS TIRED. It is such a sacred gift for the creative energy to spontaneously arise! Must use it when it's hot, regardless of time!

So I've been in NYC for about 3.5 months. I feel blessed to live in a city that allows me to fall in love with it everyday. Some days, up to 6 times a day. That is a lot of love!  Friends, family, mom, and dad: Texas is for visiting now : )

I am learning to fall in love with frustration too. Today I handed out flyers to support Malt n' Mold, a small specialty beer and cheese shop on the Lower East Side. Got VERY lost on my way back to the shop. But that is part of it, and I'm sure I learned something about the city that will come in handy in a few days. Seems to be the case with EVERYTHING these days. In the moment, I feel like I am wasting time, resources, or energy...and then within days, the lesson or the "useless" information actually turns out to be just what I was looking for. Frustration=fruit for the future.  

Lots of planting seeds recently. Exciting things on the horizon.

The burden of finding out I was one credit shy from graduating a few months ago has turned out to be 108 small angels. I created 108 postcards for my independent painting class...and tomorrow I am taking them into a print shop so I can start to sell my art. Business cards are being made as well. Frustration=fruit for the future.


The seed of traveling to India was planted long ago. And I believe that it will be a reality this winter. To spend Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, and my birthday in India sounds like the most exquisite way to end 2012, welcome 2013, and start my 24th year. 

One more instance of a seedling: back in Texas, a few months before I moved to NYC... I created an elaborate profile for an egg donor agency. I have always been interested in the process and find a lot of joy by donating blood, plasma, bone marrow, etc. So I figured, this would be a great idea. Last week, I heard back from the agency saying that there is a couple in New Jersey (how convenient is this!?!) that are interested in my eggies. Thrilled to see where this goes. Thrilled to learn more about my body from the inside out, thrilled to give life. 

We must implement our ideas, our seeds, our eggs. There is power in action and gratifying rewards to be harvested. Don't sleep and drown the dancing, feminine, creative power that exists in every single moment! I think the universe weeps with joy when we use the gifts of her giving!

It is now 5am, my body wasn't tired, so I didn't sleep...now it's time to practice my moving prayer.

In love,

Candice