rus vanwestervelt

Ok, Friends. We need your help. The girl pictured above, Ana Lopez, a student at my school, has not been seen or heard from since Sunday, June 6, 2010.

Here’s the pertinent information:

ANA MARIA LOPEZ

If you have seen her–PLEASE call Howard County Police Department at 410-313-2620. All information provided will be kept in confidence.

• Ana Lopez left her home in Ellicott City, MD (Plum Tree Apartments) on Sunday June 6, 2010
• Ana left wearing a black shirt, black pants, and black hoodie.
• On Monday June 7, 2010 Ana was reported as a missing person to the Howard County Police Department.
• A detective from the Police Department has been working with the Lopez family to investigate Ana’s disappearance.
• Some of Ana’s belongings have been found missing including a suitcase, an iPod, and a PSP, leading her family and police to believe she may have planned to run away.
• If you have any information regarding Ana’s whereabouts, please call the Howard County Police Department.

Ana, if for any reason you are reading this, please, PLEASE contact someone and let them know you are ok. You are loved by so many, and they are extremely worried about you.

I hope that, with the lines of communication that we have connecting so many of us throughout our communities, beyond our own states, and even around the globe, we may be able to reach someone who knows where Ana may be or who she may be with. PLEASE contact the police at the number above and let them know.

Thanks, all, for passing this along in hopes of finding Ana. So many people are terribly concerned.

(copyright 2010 Rus VanWestervelt, Holly Beach Farm Road, Annapolis, MD 27 March 2010)

Namaste. It is 7:04 p.m.

Well, I made it. I’m grateful for the journey, the support along the way, and the awakening I’ve experienced. In these 40 days, I have stilled the waters enough to refocus my life on the things that are most important (God, family, service) and have allowed love to fill me from all things near and far. I thank you for keeping me company along the way.

As I mentioned in my last post, though, it is not over by any means. I will continue with a strict vegetarian diet, strengthen my “presbyterian buddhist” foundation, as my wonderful friend likes to call it, and live my moments a little more simply, a little more fully (quality, not quantity), and continue to immerse myself fully in our natural surroundings rather than on social networks (I will be logging back on to Facebook tonight, though, limiting my time there to once an evening).

The picture above, taken yesterday outside Annapolis, sums up the journey nicely. Solitary as the red-winged blackbird in quiet contemplation. perched high in grasses, observing and cherishing all.

I lived deliberately these 40 days, sucking the marrow of life along the way, and I learned that leading a life in quiet desperation is hard to change. It is possible, though, and I hope that, in the months and years to come, I can look back at these first 40 days and know with confidence that they were not spent in vain.

Love to all of you. It is time now to move on.

Rus

(copyright 2010 Rus VanWestervelt, taken at Meredith Creek, Annapolis, MD, 27 March 2010)

Greetings. It is 7:13 p.m.

I got up a little after 4:30 this morning to head down to Meredith Creek, where I spent a weekend in 1990 with the Chesapeake Bay Foundation. I am working on a new piece of writing (my deadline is this coming Thursday) on the diamondback terrapin, Chesapeake Bay, and the (in)dependence from/on the mother figure, and I had to finish up my research by returning to where this story begins.

I was not disappointed. I experienced a few revelations about this piece that I was not expecting. This is exactly why I make these treks and place myself back in an environment that is filled with an inexplicable and seemingly timeless energy.

I also took Bellatrix with me and captured a few natural shots (the one above is an absolute favorite from this morning’s excursion; I’m holding the others back to –I hope!– entice you to return to see more, when I share a new one each day for the next week or so…).

I’m getting up even earlier tomorrow to write the draft. Actually, I’ve been writing the story in my head for the last week; it’s just time to put it on the paper.

Oh–and not to bury this little fact, but the journey’s been a good one for me. Got on the scale this morning and, ta-daaa… lost 19 pounds in these 39 days. Although tomorrow may be day 40, the journey continues, like it is supposed to. This is about my life, after all, and I did it to make some lifestyle changes. To do anything but stay the course would diminish the very purpose of these 40 days. Perhaps, on Monday, I’ll begin a new journey, a journey of 4,000 days. And we won’t really talk about it as it’s happening, but we can throw a party or something on March 13, 2021, when it’s all done, ok? Hope you can make it… I’ll bring the veggies and hummus. :)

Good morning. It is 5:59 a.m.

I’ve spent a good part of the last 24 hours working on a creative nonfiction piece about the diamondback terrapin and my experiences with turtles 20 years ago. I took two trips with the Chesapeake Bay Foundation at that time, one for a week along the Chester River, and another for just a weekend on a sand spit just south of Sandy Point State Park. The fact that I’m writing about those experiences today gives an indication of just how significant they have become in defining who I am today.

The end of the story is this: I experienced the death, the life, and the death once again of turtles (diamondback and snapping) in the Chesapeake Bay region. Much of the killing is done by us for profit; the seafood industry treats the snapping turtle no differently than we might treat a number one jimmy (large male blue crab) or a 10-year-old rockfish that weighs in just under 25 pounds. Somebody, somewhere, sees turtle meat as a delicacy and pays enough money to warrant their slaughter.

I am uncomfortable with the hypocrisy, and this is why I will remain a strict vegetarian — at the very least — when my 40 days end this coming Sunday. I find the killing of turtles no different than the slaughter of animals where we’ve worked very hard in this country to spin a positive, feel-good image.

The temptation is there, though, to look the other way. Chick Fil-A has done a marvelous marketing campaign to pit the almost human-like cow against the chicken (an animal image we never see, by the way) to encourage us to “eat mor chiken.”   Maybe the difference is that I’ve been to the turtle slaughterhouses and have seen firsthand the methods used for execution. I know of the methods they use for cows, pigs, and other creatures, too, not excluding our own state crustacean, the blue crab.

None of it is pretty.

So we’ll see how this story turns out. It’s not a “save the animals” piece as much as it is about the turtle’s plight for survival in an ecosystem burdened by our own measures of over-harvesting.

I hope the parallels I draw with our own lives are not too obvious. As my good friend reminds me: If it’s not a how-to piece, don’t give us instructions (on how to live).

I’m so tense with my prose. I’ve been rereading my edits on Cold Rock, and I keep trying to impress. I keep trying to sound so important.

My readers don’t need me to preach or get in their way. They just want a good story. I need to write to them as if they are sitting across from me at the Bean Hollow or the Vintage Coffee House, ready to be entertained by a story and not a philosophy.

When will I genuinely start writing for them and not at them?

Evening. It’s 8:05 p.m.

I am enjoying a good run with my writing these last few days, where I’ve turned off the self-analysis and focused more intently on all kinds of writing — fiction, nonfiction, how-to, spiritual, and just plain daybook.

In these remaining days I have on this 40-day journey, I am still realizing a few things; some of them are surprising me in their simplicity.

(This is sounding a lot like self-analysis, even though I’ve turned it off. Hmmm…Is it possible to self-analyze your stretch of existence without periods of self-analysis?)

Anyway, I think I was just getting a little too deep about what kind of writing I wanted to do. These last few days, I’ve just worried about writing. Period.

For me, every single distraction is not based in the present. It is a part of my past or a concern about what will (or will not) be. When I focus only on the present, I do not allow such distractions to derail me.

I chuckled a little to myself earlier today when I heard an interview with Tiger Woods. He was asked in one of his two weekend interviews how all of this happened. He said, very simply, that he had drifted from his buddhist beliefs, his core principles. In other words, he left the present and pursued his desires.

We know the rest of the story. But I was happy to hear that he stressed the importance of staying close to the center. If I want to remain balanced as a writer, I need not over-analyze what I am writing or when I am writing it; I just need to remain close to my spiritual core and stay centered in the present.

On that note, I return to my writing. I’ve got Cold Rock next to me, and I can’t wait to jump back in.

Good afternoon. It is 4:34 p.m.

A must-see video about the critical situation regarding our education system. The powerful conclusion he comes to hits home in such a tragic way. Please take a few moments to watch.

Good evening. It is 9:47 p.m.

Very tired tonight, but I just had to share with you that I visited my best friend’s Dad tonight, and he looked great (see above). I talked about him in my last post, and I was so fortunate to see him looking so good.

Have a wonderful night everybody. :)

Good morning. It is 5:51 a.m. (remembering my dear friend, Donnon, on this day of his passing 8 years ago. Not Fade Away, my friend. We will always love you)

My best friend is really going through some challenging times. We’ve been through every big event together in our lives, and this one is no different. His father is dying. Like my mother, he has made the most of his life after his spouse died years ago. But now, as we creep toward the anniversary of her passing, it is clear that he has begun the process of letting go.

My friend’s parents were, and always will be, my “second set.” They both helped me through many tough times in my own life, and I am grateful for their gentle, Christian guidance along the way. Ever-grateful.

I write this morning, though, about what comes of these challenges: opportunities to look at our own lives and to make choices regarding how we will spend our moments here on Earth.

My friend is not wasting any time in embracing them now. A recent trip to the west coast brought him clarity and vision for the quality of a single moment, an inhale of life. He called me while driving along Highway 1, sharing with me the beauty as it unfolded before his very eyes. Every turn, every peak he announced in 21st century Yawps that carried me 3000 miles to be by his side. That was a great gift, my Friend. One I carry with me daily.

When things settle here on the east coast, he wants to head back there and do that drive again, this time with me. I don’t know how many of the nearly 656 miles we’ll do — maybe all of them. What matters is that we’re going to do it at all.

For here’s the thing: We know all the cliches: life is too short to waste a single moment, carpe diem, your life is not measured by the breaths you take but the moments that take your breath away. . . .We know all those, and yet, we hesitate to actually live that way.

Why? Simply put, we’re fearful of what others might think. We hesitate because we believe that the living of our lives will somehow inconvenience others or cause reactions that don’t support our beliefs or our actions. We go shopping for permission, for acceptance, for support.

It doesn’t work that way, though. We can’t live our lives looking for approval, asking for a general vote on whether our desires to live fully are appropriate or timely or even sensible.

YOU are given each day to live fully. Each of us. It’s through YOUR eyes and YOUR heart and YOUR mind that you determine what defines your carpe diem experience. No one else.

It’s time we all took a little drive on our own Highway 1. Roll the windows down and let life breathe through you. Live with the intent we all felt when we were 7 years old, where our lives were measured by the way we lived each moment — playground, sandbox, artwork, writing, sleepovers, pooltime, lemonade stands, dancing, TTFN and BFF and A&F.

Nothing has changed, my friends. They are still moments, and they are still yours. Capture them in all their glory, and live them as they were meant to be lived.

copyright 2010. Photo by Rus VanWestervelt, taken in Ocean City, MD, July 2009.

Howdy, folks. It’s 5:49 8:46 p.m.

I think I’m done.

My period of introspection is, I believe, over. It is time for me to begin living the results of this journey.

I will keep writing here, and I will stay Facebook-free for another 13 days. Also, my vegan path will continue long after these 40 days have concluded. But the period of pondering the why’s of my life is over, at least for now.

I have gained a few insights, namely the following:

1. I’m not going to worry about what type of writer I am. Instead, I’m just going to write, and when one piece reaches the publishing stage, regardless of genre, so be it.
2. I’m no longer a closet Christian, and I am also confident in my decision to worry only about my spiritual faith and not try to convert or persuade any individual to live the way I have chosen to live my life.
3. I’m no longer putting pressure on myself to impress others — or myself. I think this has been a major source of my frustration throughout my entire life. If I live my day, my hour, this moment fully and honestly, then I am happy.
4. The vegan life suits me just fine.

I thank all of you for your unbelievable love and support during the past four weeks. I pray that I may be here for you, as you have been here for me.

And now, Onward! Enjoy the rest of your evening!