I appreciate living in one time zone. After a busy 2019 working my way across the globe over 135,000 miles to 15 countries and about the same number of states, it feels good to slow down and enjoy a steady -8 GMT for months upon months. I didn’t plan it this way — like many of us, there were grander images of exotic locales on my list of places to go in 2020. I even had an entire month trip planned and booked for April that never came to be.
But somewhere in it all, I’ve adjusted to the change in ways that probably make my heart happier and my physical body appreciative of less pressurized oxygen and airport meals. It could be the cognizant pivot of my mission in January, 2020, to put more effort and focus into my home region of the Pacific Northwest. I was already starting to view my beloved Oregon and Washington with a fresh set of eyes by the time Coronavirus shook the world — demanding attention. It might also be a calmer sense of slowing down, walking daily in my neighborhood, discovering new parks, driving on less-efficient, slower roadways and delving into viewing our country from a different, less privileged, lens.
Not to say I haven’t been in movement — because oh, I’ve been moving! The physical distance and social encouragement to spend more time outdoors, away from people, has helped me explore — explore my relationship with self, as well as the more literal, obvious nooks and crannies of the state. Places like Anacortes or Vernonia are etched on a map in my mind but were not much more before brilliant day trips to take another look. A slower, more open-minded pace brought such rewards that I can share with you today (see and click below.)
Exploring my relationship with self — mostly spurred by events interacting with nature — has opened me up to personal growth as well. Earlier this summer, in June, I found myself on a day trip on a picture perfect, crisp PNW day, in and around Deception Pass State Park. I rose early to beat the heat and crowds and found myself in complete isolation at 7am, scrambling over the medium-sized boulders that make up Lighthouse Point. This tiny island is almost all jagged cliffs, and offers inspiring views of the iconic narrow Deception Pass Bridge as well as the tidal swaying Salish Sea.
My relationship with social media changed the day I started writing a blog and working to promote my website. I’m not exactly a young influencer, wearing promotional Lululemon swag as my pouty duck face quacks to an eagle pose contorting near the side of a cliff. I realize the value social media has on “making a name,” especially for a new website like Kessi World. And at the same time, I’ve had to search my soul to arrive at a place of balance, between offering the world something worth stopping the scroll, and really putting my heartfelt energy into a message. Usually this message feels right when it’s honoring nature, humanizing spirit, and humanizing love.
But, I’m human and not always completely in a space of peace and balance. As much as I’d normally want this beautiful day on the rocks of an iconic state park to surround me with a grounding presence, my mind jumped into quick action when I arrived at the highest, most dramatic cliff on this shore. Maybe thinking this would be my influencer breakout moment, a little voice inside my head repeated, “GET THE SELFIE AT THE EDGE OF THE CLIFF!” It was very strikingly scenic, and it was an example of nature at it’s best — so the selfie was not only appropriate, but essential.
I started several feet from the edge of the cliff and contorted poses to get the view of the sheer drop as well as my grinning face. Shadows here, step back, dead tree branch there, step back, too much distracting kelp in the water below, step back a little bit more and I don’t like my eyebrows from this angle, step back…
We all have moments where angels, who might not always seem to be around, push forth through panic, enough to shake the earth and yell. I don’t know if my angels yelled, but some benign force shocked me to freeze and put my foot back down on the ground. I turned around and my stomach felt queasy. I was on the crumblings of the cliff edge, looking down at waves of green saltwater crashing against the rocks — revealed by the low tide.
Once in a safe space away from the edge, I set into a stupor of emotion — shock, fear, and shame. Already off course, I stumbled into the forest to reunite with the trail and looked a deer straight in the eye. She stared at me for a few moments and then bounced off into the thicket of shoulder high salal and sword fern fronds. I was still lost, but knowing it was a small circular island and I had literally the entire day to find my way, my nerves eventually calmed down. The forest calmed me down.
This was a day of learning for me. I continued to a dock where I witnessed several sea otters playing with the kelp in the shallow low tide water — looking on with a 6 and 8 year old who were trying to scrape barnacles off the dock piling to feed them. Their simple awe of the playful, brazen water mammals recharged me, connecting a child-like innocence with the awe of nature helped me start to process the events on the cliff. It wasn’t my safety — or what could’ve been — that troubled me as much as how I could get to such an oblivious point of danger for something so shallow and fleeting as a selfie. What within me drove so hard and fast to ignore everything but some artificial outcome?
This is why I travel (not to fall off cliffs, but to learn about myself). I’m drawn to the movement of travel in order to reconnect with child-like innocence and remain in awe of the natural world. I journey to connect with humility and openness to learn from new experiences, or, new mistakes that hopefully aren’t deadly. And such meaningful trips can happen on a day away to Anacortes or across multiple time zones.
My summer turned out to be full of learning, nature and wonder, and even though I haven’t reached any of the places on my dubious “Top 20 destinations in 2020” list, I’ve experienced a lot of forward momentum in new unexpected ways.
To more learning, connection and less selfie craze, in your time zone of choice, through the remaining days of summer!
Stay safe and sane!
Matthew
PS — the Kessi World site is much more than my blogs and includes a fresh article about a road trip option to Anacortes — inspired by the harrowing day I mention in my writing above. Click HERE or on the photo tile below (be sure to enable images on your browser).
PPS — Also, Vernonia and my hometown Scappoose are featured in another article about an easy day trip venture from Portland. No matter where you live, options are available to find an open road and explore — on your own terms of physical distance from others.
Check it out — I promise I won’t take you off a cliff when reading this article about my day trip from Seattle to Deception Pass and Anacortes. Just nature, a few nuggets of local information, and road trip bliss. Click the tile below or HERE.
In a nod to my roots, I’ve crafted a fun day trip from the Portland area to timber country in Columbia County, including Vernonia and my hometown of Scappoose, Oregon. Click HERE or on the photo below to escape to dense, mossy douglas fir forests and sweeping views of the Cascade Mountains.
Other day trip ideas from Portland can be found HERE.
Other day trips from Seattle can be found HERE.
