Musk ox skull between the abandoned village of Bering and Teller, Alaska.
It would be absurd to attempt a retrospective of my last decade. There are a few general points or highlights, however, that come to mind.
The last decade has been full. Within my life and the small sphere I orbit, these last ten years are noteworthy for the people I am fortunate enough to call family and friends - for many, the line between the two is impossible to discern. My community, which spans Alaska, Outside, beyond the National boundary- but is most prominent in Homer and the greater Kenai Peninsula - is full of people that inspire me and fill me with awe every day. I moved to Homer, Alaska, a little over a decade ago in search of a community. I found it.
This last decade has been full of incredible, human-powered adventures. I have seen more of Alaska under my own steam than I would have imagined possible. The thirst for more exploration, discovery, and for deepening my connection to this remarkable Arctic state grows stronger with each expedition.
Food has been noteworthy for me over the last ten years. Subsistence gathering is something I grew up with and have never taken for granted. But, my desire to learn more, become more efficient, to preserve with care and intention, to share, to work together, to feel truly nourished has risen to top. Thankfully, masters surround me.
New disciplines and passions began creeping into my life about a decade ago and they are now all consuming. Learning to create content is a boundless joy. I’ve only just begun to scratch the surface. I am in love with learning how to further hone my tools.
This last decade has been a sobering time in my life too. I have become acutely aware of the crisis our species is in and the devastation we are senselessly foisting on the biosphere that supports us. It may appear to some that I am an angry person. As a rule, I am not. However, anger is an emotional tool I am not afraid to use. If over the last decade I have appeared angry, it is because I understand how lucky we all are. I understand how valuable wilderness and the nutrition it provides me is. I understand that community is the remedy to society’s ills. I understand that freedom is more than bumper sticker or an empty campaign slogan. I understand that perpetual growth on a finite resource planet will destroy all that we know and love. Senseless destruction of our garden, which is surrounded by the lonely vacuum of Space, is anger inducing. We should all be angry.
As an atheist, I make no claims about how the future will unfold or what the next decade will offer. For my part, I will, however, continue to surround myself with people I admire. I will continue to skirt the boundaries of the possible in the backcountry and keep seeking new wilderness experiences. I will marry my best friend and spend the rest of my life learning, sharing, adventuring, debating and loving with her. I will continue to be loud about senseless destruction and wanton waste of our finite resources. Anger, with love firmly grasping the hilt, is a tool I am still learning to wield and I expect to have to use it. I predict that I will be angry over the next decade but I would love to be proven wrong.
Happy Winter Solstice, dear ones. May your coming decade be full of passion for what we know and love.
