Who am I?

IMG_20150405_114846Who am I?  Who knows?  Not me.  You won’t find that here. Such is the knowledge not from facts but experience.  Get to know me as a person.  Here’s a start:

Let’s see…I love to sing. Seriously, I’m always singing, often without realizing it.

I employ verbal irony in approximately 65% of what I say and always love a good witty sense of humor.

Nothing really offends me. Hiding the truth never changes reality, you know? Might as well get it out in the open. Honesty with love, y’all. It solves a lot of problems.

I don’t become emotionally attached to ideas. I love to hear a spectrum of views, as it makes my lens on reality just a little clearer each time.

Oh, but a warning: I’m a stubborn ass sometimes. Working on it. Don’t be afraid to call me out.

Gray-area decisions are hard for me, when there’s no one best option. But when I do make decisions, I don’t do it halfway.  I throw myself in, heart and soul.  Some might say obsessed…and they’re right. I am committed. Comes from being stubborn. I never give up.

When I choose to open up, I’m super enthusiastic about what I love. Just give me some time. The healing process has been long and hard, but I am in the light now.

Both a strength and a weakness: sometimes I don’t really give a damn what others think. Learning, slowly and painfully, to care. (And I’m sometimes obnoxious on accident, lacking perception where other humans are concerned.)

If I love you, I’ll do anything for you

I’m terribly extroverted, in a weird way. When it comes to my friends, I can never spend enough time with them, but in a group of strangers, I’m reserved.

I have habits that I keep, but the habits shift regularly.  Meaning that I make up my mind as best I know and act on that with self-discipline, but when confronted with new information, I adjust and continue.

So independent. But I really do need help sometimes, and can’t admit it…won’t.

When it comes to mental work of any sort (painfully obvious in paper-writing), I can accomplish the same amount in about 10 morning minutes as in a whole hour in the evening or especially late night.  I just lose all motivation and brain power, the only thought on my mind “..sleep….”

I believe that it is invaluable to learn to see through another’s lens, to walk in another’s shoes.

Nothing makes me happier than dancing, particularly jazz and blues.

I see life in extended metaphors, which often bleeds into my writing. The idea just runs away with itself while my pen tries to keep up.

To me, humanity is art, in all its forms. Whether in word or song or movement or earth, I love to create. Something deeper than words, that dwells within the heart of the world, stirs my heart. I must create.

Nothing is so beautiful as community, or as satisfying. Whether between humans or shared among all nature’s beings, it is all one. You have only to taste of such love and peace and belonging to desire nothing else.

I have a deep hatred of injustice. And deadlines. And weak coffee.

The most spiritual experience for me is just being in nature, alone in the eloquent silence. Peaceful and holistic, it just feeds my soul and puts all the shit I worry about into perspective again.

I love life. This is the moment! Be present, be aware, and love it.


The little things that I love?

The smell of freshly ground coriander

Rooibos tea

Espresso, ‘nuff said

The smell of woods after a rainstorm

The color of woods after a rainstorm

The way the sunset’s kiss ignites a fire in the sky

Farmer’s markets; they capture the heart of a place, its artisans of food and paint and song and earth.

Sitting around a campfire with kindred spirits

Singing my soul out with the same people

Running barefoot on forest trails

The smell of a horse

That deep, dark, grey-blue sky, the harbinger of a thunderstorm. Along with the cool, somber breeze whose scent is wildness.

The rain. Whether curled up under a blanket, drinking tea and reading a book in the cozy glow while the downpour washes the earth, or dancing with abandon in the midst of its passion and fury, so paradoxically peaceful, letting it wash away all the pain and angst.


I’m learning to overcome my tendencies; please give me some grace.

Part of the reason I write poetry is to keep from saying so damn many useless words

There is little that I like so much as really good coffee.

When I visit a new place, one of my favorite parts is finding the best local coffee shops.  Seriously, espresso is heaven in liquid form.

My dream is, for a time, to be a nomad and artist. I want to make music, dance, and write, see a new place every week, meet new friends, find the best coffee shops, explore every forest and mountain, feel the dirt of each place with my bare toes, swim in every ocean, experience the intricacies of each culture, discover all the food and dance and music that graces each place. I want to see the world, especially the hallowed
grounds unnamed and untouched by humans.

Someday, I would love to find a piece of earth to dwell with and care for, a place where I can practice permaculture and raise animals. A place to share all the joy of earth and sky, food and drink, fire and rain,
with a community. A place to start up a coffee shop, perhaps, where there would be live music and dancing, writing and painting, a place for all who love life to share in its beautiful moments.

Who am I? Well, if one word could say, it would be ALIVE.



Megan Juntunen

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