Rainy Thoughts

I sat at the Red Horse today and looked out at the low clouds and drops of rain hitting the puddles outside. The Red Horse is my favorite coffee shop in town, not only because they have the best coffee and huge windows, but it contains the most colorful splash of workers and customers in Corvallis. John, the owner, goes out of his way to make fun of me, which according to my manifesto is what real friends do. He’s a man famous for his one-liners and I keep encouraging him to take his insults to a comedy stage, but he prefers to test them out on his loyal coffee addicts.

I sit in this coffee shop nearly everyday and watch people stream in an out, like watching water move endlessly down a creek. One of my favorite parts about living in Oregon is observing the eclectic mix of people. The hippies, the intellectuals, the survivalists, the minimalists, the outdoorsy, artsy, quirky are as random as the geography of this state. I’ve never seen a state so diverse; Oregon has rainforests, deserts, mountain peaks, canyons, cliffs, ocean coast, waterfalls, city life, farm towns—and apparently this mix of climate and land encourages a lively mix of souls to encompass it. Oregon feels like a separate country to me, with it own fashion style (wear something waterproof and the more your clothes clash, the better), it’s own culture (celebrating the complex tastes of wine and beer), it’s own attitude (think green, plant green, eat green, local is best, buy used, recycle) it’s own form of beauty (high rose bushes and laughter wrinkles) and it’s own pace (think deep, drive slow, hike daily, ride fast, walk whenever possible). Oregon also has its own smell. I don’t know if it’s the proximity to the ocean, or the thousands of old pines, or the heaps of gardens in every front yard, but this state has the most incredible smell. Earthy, alive, scintillating, and energizing yet relaxing at the same time. I swear, I could spend all day just breathing in the air. Now that I think about it, I guess that is what I do.

I was up in Portland last weekend and stopped at Deschutes Brewery to try their Obsidian Stout. I brought a book up to the bar but it wasn’t long before I met everyone around me and got to know the bartenders. I ended up splitting a pizza with a new friend and hours slipped by without my knowledge. This kind of lifestyle, I’m beginning to realize, is what I constantly crave. To talk to strangers. To always be moving, discovering. Never settled. It brings out the best in me. Some people live best inside a comfort bubble, where it’s predictable, safe and convenient. There are strengths to this, but it is not for me. Predictability stifles me. Leaving and changing and starting over are risks, however; it’s through these risks that I’m fulfilled because life is magnified. Because around every corner is a new friend to meet, a beautiful place to discover. Sometimes I wonder if I ever will truly settle. But, my fear is that in settling, my heart will also settle. It won’t stir with wonder the way it does when I’m moving. I’m learning and accepting that I’m a traveler. I am at my best when I’m thrown into a place that challenges me, that forces me to branch out. Isn’t life too short to not want to change, to flow, like water? To me, there is no greater inspiration.