AUGUST 25th, 2023
Sam's Journal
Hello friend,
Welcome back to our vintage real estate & slow living newsletter, now known as Sam's Journal.
I am writing this to you from one of my favorite spots in my neighborhood: Canyon Coffee.
It's this incredibly lovely coffee shop in Echo Park (where I live in Los Angeles). Been hanging out here for an hour or so, taking it easy - today was my first day back from camping with my family up in Northern California. And wow, it was quite the trip. I honestly feel changed - something's shifted.
I drove there last Thursday afternoon. We camped by a river about an hour away from my parent's house, with my mother, stepdad, and sister. There's one thing you should know about where I'm from: it's really freakin' beautiful.
Most of my area alternates between mountains, valleys, forests, and lots of redwoods + foliage. Our campsite was quite literally in a canyon, a little valley with gradually sloping hills on each side. Trees cantilevering over to create the most dreamy, sun-dappled setting I think I've ever seen.
A major highlight was going swimming in the Russian River with my sister. There was a lazy portion of it that wound its way through a redwood forest. Can you even imagine floating in that water? 80 degrees, lush and warm in the late afternoon sunlight.
Aside from the river, we didn't really hang out at the campsite too much. My mom jokes that we “fake camped” — we went to the small town right by the campsite a lot & ate meals there.
It's this place called Guerneville, which is essentially the Palm Springs of NorCal, in that it's a queer mountain town. The vibes? They were good. I definitely felt safe and welcomed.
On Saturday night, I did something that may have been the highlight of my camping trip.
After swimming in the river all day, we went into Guerneville for ice cream (which is at this old bank the town decided to convert, cool). It was golden hour, and everything was insanely beautiful.
Have I mentioned how much I love small towns? The adorable string of shops; the quaint side streets with vintage cabins peeking out from the sequoias; the mountains just beyond.
I decided that hey, it's time to have a main character moment, and walked down to the river. The scene - a gravel beach completely hidden by redwoods, set below epic peaks, and a soaring, ancient bridge.
I spent some time hanging out there, doing that kind of thinking you can only do at certain times of the day. Some context - I hinted at it in last week's newsletter - but going home is emotional for me. I'm often pulled away from the moment with things that flare up by proximity. I think you'll know what I mean when I say that some places will always carry certain people and moments of time. Ones that are particularly tricky to forget.
So, after a few minutes, I walked back up to the street. But something inside turned me around.
I felt this sudden need to connect deeply with the moment, get out of my head, stop feeling sorry for myself, and just start feeling incredibly alive.
Breathlessly, I ran back down to the river and fully jumped in. With my clothes on.
Yep. I swam in the river at sunset, and it was absolutely magical. I emerged feeling a thousand times better and wildly in the moment/in my body. After, I walked back up to the town, in the alpenglow, dripping, and it was perfect.
I encourage you to jump in your own river this week.
Do something that scares you. Do something just to feel a chill on your skin. Do something to get out of your head and into your body! And, if you have access to a river, actually take a sunset swim for me. I'll be cheering in the distance.
Go be fully alive this week. You've got this.
As I say at the end of all my newsletters —
life is too short and too wonderfully weird to not spend it in a house you're wildly in love with.
Respond to this email or message me on Instagram if you're buying or selling in the Los Angeles area.
All my love!
Until next week,
Sam Arneson
