
One Journey Through
A World of Stories
"We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us."
- Joseph Campbell
This is what the doctor ordered, a week in the woods to clear my head after a few years of institutional education ; )




Day 1
The house is nestled amongst the cool forest, trees leaning in to shelter the place from the rest of the world. Everywhere about the house are little pieces of carved wooden benches, posts, fences, all that look like they were sung out of the tree by some elf. And then gardens, sprinkled throughout the acre surrounding the house, in little patches of sunlight, peering through the trees; and of course a huge wood shed, and a multitude of little hand constructed shacks and sheds storing all manner of tool and bauble.


Day 2
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I wake up a little late to join mike in his morning ritual of stretching and meditation, but soon after breakfast we begin working around the property, getting the garden ready for the summer, milling boards for new construction projects; all the while, Mike tells me stories of his many brothers, his time in the monastery, his time in the biker gang, and how it all influences his current, more humble lifestyle.
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Day 3 ends with Mike and I driving to Sea Cliff Long Island, quietly entering a dock on the outskirts of town, and falling asleep to the gentle rocking of a moored vessel.
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Day 4 began with a sunrise on the water and moved quickly to a day of tree cutting with Mike and his crew.
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The next few days were incredible! I met two of Mike's brothers and it was amazing to have heard so many stories about them and then to work along side their 70year-old selves.
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"Zen is the departure from linear sequential thought. Logic is our operating system; you have it, but don't let it trap you." - Mike

Over spring break I had the good fortune of meeting Michael Emelianoff while climbing in the Gunks. After a few minutes of talking we quickly sensed like interests in one another and exchanged numbers. Since, we have sent a few emails back in forth with poetry and other writing, mostly centering around natural appreciation and spirituality. In addition, we managed to meet up for a climb at Crane Mountain a few weeks ago. As the end of my semester approached I got in touch with Mike and we made plans for me to come live with him for the week before graduation, when many of my fellow graduating class headed off for a boozy week at Myrtle Beach.
Then mike shows up, scarf wrapping weathered features, braveheart pony tail flowing down broad shoulders; he extends his work weathered leather hand and I take it with joy and admiration. "thank you for welcoming me to your home!" "oh yea, this is my humble abode he says with a wry smile. cmon il show you around" For the next hour I am blown away again and again with mike's ingenuity in the way that he has crafted every damn thing in sight, and seems to have everything you could ever need and somehow manages to find it all amongst the homely, well lived-in clutter that sprouts from every possible corner and surface.
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Over a wonderful lunch of bread and fine cheese, Mike, Sonia and a few other gals tell me a little piece of their story, how they came to be here in the middle of nowhere, how they became disenchanted with the modern consumer world, how they found happiness in the simple things, and came back to their roots, baking and making other things with their hands.
After lunch, Mike and I go climbing. We head to a local spot and as we approach the mottled rock, Mike starts rattling off names of climbs, difficulty ratings, and history about when the route was put up, by whom, what the name means, etc. I slowly come to realize that Mike has had a hand in developing every route in the area!
