Just got back from a trip to Asheville, NC and have been doing laundry and putting the house to rights all day.
In about an hour I will be heading out to see the documentary Split Estate.
Why do I do this to myself??? I predict it will suck me into the sadness and despair pit just like Gasland did but, I really have to KNOW, you know?
I sometimes think that a lot of people are just averting their eyes to what is happening, pretending that it’s going to be alright, telling themselves that what happened other places won’t happen here, etc. etc.
Maybe they’re right. I hope so, but it doesn’t seem likely…
So before I “go down” again, here’s the narrative of a most happy trip to a most beautiful and fun town: Asheville!
We rented a loft through a website called Vacation Rentals by Owner. So pretty! So comfy! So right in the middle of everything!
Here’s the living room and kitchen:
Every morning we walked to a cafe for breakfast that made fresh juice. (Not as complex as my High Octane Rocket Fuel, but the concoction they called “The Red Planet” was superb. Apple, carrot, beet and ginger. The place composted and recycled everything and had solar panels on the roof that heated all the hot water. Loved it!
Here’s G standing in front of the place:
We spent one full day driving on the Blue Ridge Parkway in some of the sweetest mountains I have ever seen. Not majestic like the Sierras, but layered, one range behind another, behind another on into infinity. If we had had some more time, and some recommendations, we would have planned something. The hiking looks to be wonderful. (for the east.)
I took a yoga class at the Asheville Yoga Center, the place where my sub, Brenna, got her certification. I didn’t get to take a class with her teacher or the other one she recommended, but it was a good class. It was billed as a “Vigorous Flow” but I didn’t find it all that vigorous or all that flowy. It was good though, and I learned a great assist for handstand (which we did!! whoah!!)
One thing I have to say though is that I didn’t get the homey, everybody- knows-each-other, close tribe feeling I think a newcomer would immediately feel at Main Street Yoga. (As I was waiting to go into class another participant asked me, “Are you the teacher?”) The people didn’t seem to know one another.
I also really came to appreciate the beauty of my studio. I have such a pretty place. Not that I didn’t know it already, but I have a new appreciation for it. (and I missed it!)
We saw a lot of the city. Walked around most of it, drove through different neighborhoods, toured UNC Asheville (by car) and I have to say, the whole time I was there, in the back of my mind I wondered if I would run into Vince Horn.
Vince Horn has a podcast called Buddhist Geeks which is one of my very faves. He’s a great interviewer and gets incredible people on the show. I am a big fan of Buddhist Geeks and I follow them on Facebook, and I follow Vince himself on Twitter and on Facebook so I know something of his personal life.
One thing I know is that he and his wife just moved to Asheville from Boulder in the past month. That’s why I wondered if I would see him. Maybe at Whole Foods or something? Could happen.
On our last night we went to a wine/tapas bar called Sante. I love to try new wines and this place had flights, which I adore because you get to try half-glass samples of 4 different wines. Their featured flight that night was Spanish wines, which I don’t usually drink and know nothing about, so that was exciting. We ordered olives and nuts and a salad and cheese and crackers and sat and talked and sipped and nibbled and people-watched on the veranda. My favorite of the Spanish wines was one called Albarino. It was a white, which aren’t usually my preference, but this was tasty and I bought a bottle for home.
So as we meandered our way back to the loft after a perfectly lovely evening we passed a couple on the sidewalk and “Holy shit!” I said to G. “I think we just passed Vince Horn!!”
“You should go say Hi,” she said.
“You think??” I said. “He won’t think I’m some stalker-ish psycho-fan? Isn’t it too embarrassing?”
“No, go!” she said.
And I did.
I caught up with him and his wife just as some man started asking them for directions.
I introduced myself and said all kinds of silly fan-things, and he actually remembered that he follows me on Facebook (really??) and happily I had my camera with me and his wife, Emily, took our picture.
So, here’s me with Vince Horn!
He was very cool, and gracious and really, really sweet. I was stoked. (And admittedly a little tipsy from the flight of Spanish wines!)
So our trip was good, and tomorrow afternoon I get to teach Happy Hour and I can’t wait.
I am going to try to get back to writing here regularly, but it will mean that I will have to “write around” my anxiety about living in Gasland. It is ever present in my thoughts but I don’t think writing about it here will solve or resolve anything.
I’m going to have to ignore the elephant in the room and just write about the carpeting and the table cloth and the chandelier.
I can do that. I think.