A decade of February
*Looking back to look within
Dear Kula Diaries,
This week, I didn’t feel like I had much to say. Or, maybe, I did have a lot to say — but most of it didn’t feel particularly helpful or inspired as I sat down to write it all out.
In moments like this, I sometimes will ask myself: What does feel good? What feels like it is flowing for me right now?
When I look around at the life that I live, I am instantly reminded that I am living the things that I created. Less than 7 years ago, I was driving around in a police vehicle, kicking trespassers off the railroad tracks… and, now, I’m working in a decidedly shabby-chic (emphasis on shabby) office that wouldn’t exist if I hadn’t said yes to myself. I trusted myself then… even with no proof.
While I consciously try not to numb my feelings with cell phone usage anymore, I have a simple tool that I’ve found really helpful in moments when I feel like I’ve lost my footing: I look back through my photos and my videos, to see what I was doing in this exact week… many years ago. I’m not sure why this practice feels grounding to me, but it seems to help me find my footing, when the path seems shaky. Look at how far you’ve come, it says.
Today, I thought I’d walk you through that process, and hopefully, you can use it yourself on a day when you might need it too.
Aaron and I weren’t even married when this photo was taken — in fact, we weren’t even living together. I was living in Tacoma, Washington and he lived in Everett, Washington. We had travelled down to Mt. Saint Helens for a winter ascent of the mountain, and we spent a day exploring Ape Caves before our climb. We climbed Mt. Saint Helens the day after Valentine’s Day — and it was the last climb of our goal to climb all 5 Washington volcanoes together. I was working for the railroad at the time, and spending every spare moment hiking and backpacking. The idea for Kula Cloth hadn’t occurred to me yet, although I was using a microfiber pee cloth on my own backpacking trips and teaching about it in my beginner backpacking classes.
I barely recognize the person in this photo — me heading to work as a BNSF Railroad Police Officer…. but inexplicably wearing what appear to be dress shoes, instead of my duty boots (I’m guessing that I was doing this to be funny). Rationally, I know that this is me, but it feels like such a distant memory… a strange dream of nights spent patrolling train tracks and witnessing things that are so horrific, I’ll never write about them here. I signed into service each day through my cell phone, and then I patrol various railroad property locations for 10-12 hours, depending on my shift. I’d also respond to any calls for service, as required. I’d get home around 3am… sometimes I’d be so wired from adrenaline that I couldn’t sleep… other times, I’d barely be able to keep my eyes open. Still, other times, I’d have nightmares — reliving moments that I wanted to erase from my memory. There were parts of my job that I genuinely loved. I loved making people more safe. I loved educating people about the dangers of wandering around on railroad tracks.
I ended up at the railroad, and I’m glad I did. I’m glad that I hadn’t figured out my life yet, and I’m deeply grateful for the experience that I had there. It was the trauma that I experienced during my time at the railroad that brought me back to meditation… and it was meditation, that opened the door for me to discover everything else in this universe.
And so, when I look at this photo now — I don’t see somebody who is unhappy: I see somebody who was going through the process of learning how to unlearn everything that she thought she knew about life.
And, to be honest, I’m really proud that she had the guts to jump into the unknown a few years later.
To be fair, I have zero photos from February, 2016 on my phone. My husband sent me this one, and we can tell from the photo that he was packing to go to Texas — an annual trip that he took when he was working for the railroad so that he could attend a week of leadership training. We were married at this point, and I had been gifted the idea for Kula Cloth (or, rather, just an intentionally designed pee cloth) the previous summer on our trip to the Wind River Range. Upon arriving home from that trip, I had decided to scrap the idea because I thought it was stupid and that nobody would ever buy it. Cinder was our second cat, and we had her for just under a year when this photo was taken. Our lives were spent working and trying to fit in frantic trips on the weekend.
This photo of Aaron in Canyonlands was taken one month after my near-death incident on Steven’s Pass. I had started an online hiking and backpacking group on Facebook and I was starting to teach backpacking skills to folks. I felt so hopeful and excited about where I was going, that the rest of my life didn’t seem to bother me as much anymore. I was meditating almost daily, and I spent my time writing down the things that I wanted to create on a dry erase board in our office. Seemingly magical opportunities started to come out of the woodwork — and it felt like things were ‘clicking’ into place. I started to tell Aaron about my dream to leave my job and start something new, and while he was terrified of the idea, he also never doubted me. When I think about the level of trust that he has had in me — with absolutely no proof whatsoever — I’m deeply moved by his love and support. He has never doubted me in the past 6+ years, and it takes a really beautiful human to unconditionally support somebody else like that.
I still remember when I was in the early stages of ‘scheming’ to leave my job… and when other people found out about it, they would ask Aaron (with a very concerned tone), “What do you think about what Anastasia is doing?”. People would also ask me, “What does Aaron think about this?”. The implication, obviously, that no sane person would ever think that this was a good idea. People called Aaron a saint, because he, clearly, shouldn’t have tolerated ‘this type of behavior’.
I do think Aaron is a gem of a human, but not because he did something that he shouldn’t have done — but rather, because he did something that everybody should be so fortunate to experience in their lifetime: a partner or another human who truly sees, loves and trusts another person for who they are. It’s a gift to be seen by another through the lens of love, and I’m infinitely grateful to Aaron for the shared experience that we have had bringing ideas to life over the past few years.
Five months after this photo was taken, I would leave my job as a Railroad Police Officer and jump into the void to see what happened.
In September of 2017, the Musical Mountaineers were born… and on this day in February of 2018, I was filming with Mitch Pittman and Eric Johnson from KOMO 4 news for an episode of Eric’s Heroes.
We hiked up to a frozen, snowy rock garden in the Cascades and, in a lapse of communication, Eric Johnson only thought that we were going to be hiking a few hundred yards… and he didn’t have any snowshoes. In addition to that, he was carrying a drone… in a box. By the time that we made it to the rock garden, we had hiked about 2 miles. Eric was post holing up to his waist in snow, but he was still holding that box with the drone in it.
I’ve shared this quote before, but Eric said something that day that has stuck with me forever. He said, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but the silence when you are finished playing is just as beautiful as your music.”
You can watch the full Eric’s Heroes episode here, it’s one of my favorite videos ever about The Musical Mountaineers:
I’m not sure if I ever shared how we ended up being featured on Eric’s Heroes, but that is a magical story in its own right. Rose and I decided to snowshoe to Gold Creek Pond to perform Christmas Carols at sunrise in December of the previous year. As you might imagine, there was not a crowd at sunrise… in fact, there was only one person… a man, who seemed excited to see us, and asked if he could take a few photos. As it turned out, that man was Dan Lewis, a retired KOMO news anchor. He was so startled by our music, that he contacted Eric and told him that he had met some women in the mountains that needed to be a part of his story.
We already knew Mitch (the cinematographer) through Instagram, but this experience filming with Eric solidified our friendship. To this day, Mitch continues to volunteer his time to film our videos in the mountains that have now been used to help raise thousands and thousands of dollars for both the Washington’s National Park Fund and the Washington Trails Association. We will be sharing the world premier of our latest collaboration on April 25th at Benaroya Hall to benefit the Washington Trails Association.
This video is from February of 2019 — me (the unicorn) and Aaron (the Bigfoot) performing in the Cascades.
Six years ago, Aaron had started to learn how to play the ukulele and we had inherited the Bigfoot costume from a friend… and I had purchased the unicorn mask to release our very first unicorn Kula.
At this point, I was running Kula Cloth out of my home in Everett, Washington — and all of the Kulas were being shipped to customers from a warehouse in Texas (where they were sent after production). Aaron was still working for the railroad — alternating day shift and night shift every two months.
And yet. And yet, here we were: a married couple, putting on ridiculous costumes and playing music in the mountains for no reason other than it sounded fun. I’m so glad I have these videos to watch, and I’m so glad that The Makebelievables still exist in this world and pop up occasionally to surprise and delight folks.
This video is from February 2020 — a sunrise with The Musical Mountaineers in the Cascades.
I won’t say too much about this video, because I’ll let it speak for itself (and also our frigid yelp at the end is hilarious). We filmed this about a month before everything shut down for COVID. When I listen to it, I hear a sadness for what is to come — but also a sense of hopefulness… that, amidst the inexplicable happenings in this universe, there is an undeniable fabric of love that permeates everything around us, at all times.
Aaron and I had moved to our new home near the Mountain Loop Highway, and I took advantage of a blizzard to ski down the road above our house. I was one month into my Dance Experiment at this point… and I was about to hire one of my first employees. We were in the process of finishing part of our garage to turn it into a mini Kula warehouse. I had decided to move all of our fulfillment in house. Aaron was still working for the railroad, so our time together was in the hours between sleeping.
In February of 2022, we decided that Aaron was going to leave his job at the railroad. He had been working on stained glass projects for a few months, and we both felt like Kula was in a consistent enough place that he could use the time to ‘figure out’ what he wanted to do. Spending a year working on stained glass, seemed like a good way to transition away from his very stressful job with the railroad.
It took him months to start to feel more relaxed at home, but gradually, he got into a more gentle routine. We walked everyday — and, to this day, we still do. We practiced meditation together every single day, and we still do.
After a year of doing stained glass, Kula Cloth was featured in an article on CNN that went viral, and we were so busy that we could barely keep up (at this point, I had 2 employees working with me). Aaron was ‘volunteering’ for Kula Cloth so much that we decided it was time for him to start working for Kula. Over the past few years, he’s taken over most of the operational side of the company — including forecasting, tracking and purchasing all of our raw materials and coordinating with our factories. Aaron also oversees all of our quality control and in-house inventory management. When I look at his stained glass pieces, I see a beautiful step… I know it was challenging and scary for him, but I’m proud that he was also able to step into the unknown and trust that it would catch him.
After spending nearly 6 years apart because of our wild schedules, we had the amazing opportunity to learn how to re-connect with each other in a meaningful way. I definitely will not say that it was easy, but rebuilding our relationship has been one of the most beautiful and unexpected parts of this journey. I’m really proud that we didn’t give up on each other, and I am continually proud to have Aaron by my side every single day.
Jasper the feral cat entered our lives in December of 2023… and today, as I sit and reflect on this photo, I turn to my left and I see Jasper sitting on our couch… in our house. He’s curled up in a little ball, and he looks warm and comfortable. He still doesn’t like being approached, but I can pet him with my bare hands without (too much) fear of being scratched. Aaron and I continue to watch him soften to the good life… and we savor the little moments of progress that he makes on a daily basis. I don’t know if Jasper will ever be a ‘lap cat’, but we have loved nurturing him and giving him the opportunity to have a home with us.
This photo was taken last week at the Full Moon. Aaron and I were on our normal morning walk, and on the way down the hill, the moon was as big as I’ve ever seen it — a glowing orb of wonder, hovering in the sky. An actual moon — a planetary chunk, visible with our eyes from this orb that we call home. It was incredibly beautiful to witness and seemingly impossible to fathom. We see the moon so often that we sometimes forget how truly extraordinary it really is.
Last week, I had the chance to receive an intuitive reading (more on this later, when I can properly describe the experience) — I volunteered to be a ‘sitter’ for an intuitive group that included a few mediums and intuitive workers of different disciplines. That morning had felt particularly rough for me — I was in my head and scattered, and I wondered if they would pick up on it. As I sat for the reading, I closed my eyes and we listened to a meditation for about 20 minutes, before coming back together into the virtual zoom room. Almost immediately, one of the women remarked that she felt some, ‘reactivity and distractedness’ from me… and that it felt like it was something I didn’t often experience.
When I had volunteered to be a sitter, I wasn’t sure what to expect — but, the experience ended up being simply profound. While I won’t mention all of the specific details of what the reading included (yet), I could distill it down to this statement: The universe loves you more than you could ever possibly fathom, and you are doing great … even in the moments when you feel like you’ve failed. Trust yourself and trust the path.
It’s funny how the right words always seem to come at the exact time that we need them the most. It’s funny that in our own calling out for understanding and belonging — we are are reminded that we have never been apart of the thing that we are looking for.
I don’t know all of the answers. I haven’t seen a map of where I’m going, but I’m trying to be open to where this path might lead. When I look back at a decade of February… I’m overwhelmed and humbled by the journey. When I started Kula Cloth over six years ago, I could have never imagined all of the wild things that would happen over the past six years. In a million years, I wouldn’t have wanted to imagine it — because trying to figure out how to get it to happen would have been nearly impossible. Instead, it’s so much easier (and more fun) to sit back and enjoy the ride. To be delighted. To let the little miracles happen. To be open to the possibilities of whatever might come next.
In the midst of feeling scattered, it’s easy to get lost. It’s easy to discard yourself with the fragments, and forget the love that exists in each moment. It’s easy to forget how far you’ve come.
In my February searching, I also found this video from exactly 6 years ago — Aaron was still working for the railroad, and I had been given a PR opportunity to spend a few days in Wenatchee, Washington to attend a festival and to go skiing. Aaron drove to Wenatchee to meet me when he was finished work for the week, and we spent a day together — hiking in the snow. Together, we had performed at sunrise on a snow-covered hill above the town.
Reflecting back on what has been is a good reminder of the billions of steps that we’ve all taken to get to where we are. It’s impossible to capture a decade in 10 photos — and the gaps between those images are chock full of life…of LIVING. Maybe we just need to remember how truly special and unique we are, no matter what we do or accomplish. Maybe we just need to remember that all of life can be distilled down to a consecutive procession of ‘nows’ — that we can either miss, by living in an imaginary world in our head that obscures them… or by living deeply in each of them: present to whatever they might contain…and willing to acknowledge that our strength lies not in pushing them away, but in embracing them for what they are.
Friends, whatever you are going through in life and however you are right now, just know that you are loved beyond measure. There is a universe out there that we can’t possibly understand, and it supports us all in beautiful and loving ways. Your life is precious and special, and this world is better because you exist and because you bring something so unique into each day. Never forget that you cannot get off your path — you’re always on it, and you’re always loved.
I’m sending you all so much love today, and all days. Be well, friends. You’re doing great.
This theme is brilliant. The story woven holds not reflecting back to learn from, but reflecting growth in the individual moments. It’s your history that influences your present. I'll look for ways to incorporate this into future writings.
Trusting the universe and not knowing where each step of the path will lead are difficult tasks! I love your reflection on the journey.