Category Archives: Spiritual Well Being

Books and other Soul Food, Character, Emotional Health, Goals and Dreams, Health and Long Life, Relationships, Spiritual Well Being, Work

The Grateful Victim

June 21, 2020 Cherry 1 Comment

It was something of a miracle to wake for the ninety-sixth time with a feeling of well-being. Make no mistake; she had moments of sadness and loss – bereavement even; periods of anger and denial. But she soldiered through them like a normal person. Treated them like an acceptable result of life and death. Gone were the days of abject despond and paralyzing fear that used to seize her for no reason when everything was going well. Gone the constant feeling of victimization even in the midst of the best of times. These days gratitude is her trademark. Gratitude on waking. Gratitude on drifting off to sleep – solidly. She abides in Peace. And Love. And Creativity. She knows herself to be a victim of only one thing. She is a victim of God’s perfect timing. Yes. A victim of the unfolding of the Universe. This is not the way she chose for it to go. Her choices were snatched from her hands. All her perfect plans – and she laid many with her God-given analytical brain – were treated as nothing. She is now living in Colorado – the place she longed to be. But she didn’t get here with the pomp and circumstance and grace she intended. She was unceremoniously thrust out of hot Arizona and tossed into Durango without warning on the cusp of COVID-19. Did I say without grace? By all appearances it was not a graceful landing – it was more of an ignominious heap. But it was definitely Grace! Yes. She is a recipient of God’s perfect timing. Orchestrated by a Universe in which she is a miniscule particle. Quarantined in the mountains. Forced to not go to work for eight weeks – to not even sip from the bottle of workaholism. Forced to write and read and make music. Required to engage in no activity save those that were exactly what her soul needed. Prohibited from shopping save for health and nourishment. Absolved of any pressure to socialize the introvert within. Add to that, her mother was dying. She had known it for many months. It was no unnatural or sudden shock. The death of an aging loved one is as expected as paying taxes. These global circumstances, so negative to the entire world, again positioned her in proximity to be there the moment restrictions eased and her mother attained final peace. And for that she is eternally grateful.

There are years, years we live through without relief, where nothing happens for us. We are caught in the overwhelming mud of the flood. Bogged down in the Slough of Despond. We are not absolved from the responsibility of our own self-care nor, ironically, of the admonition to give thanks in everything. But let us not fail to acknowledge and be grateful for the miraculous when God steps in and victimizes us with a perfect plan. You can trust the Universe. Rest in that. And be grateful.

Character, Emotional Health, Goals and Dreams, Health and Long Life, Spiritual Well Being, The Rules

An Old Fashioned Girl and Sneetches

June 10, 2020 Cherry Leave a comment

First, let me say that I am aware there are far more important things going on in the world than my sense of fashion and what I ate for breakfast. Conversely, what I wear and what I eat may directly inform my immunity to disease and strengthen me to engage in meaningful activity whether active or passive.

An Old Fashioned Girl She had always been a little bit old-fashioned. Her high school classmates can attest to that. But after her release into adulthood, she gradually drew abreast of fashion, in some instances becoming a trend-setter. And so it was with the reintroduction of bandanas. She was like everybody else, yet ahead of the game. She had a collection of 15 and wore a different one everyday. But lately she seemed to be falling behind again. Increasingly fewer folk were sporting bandanas on the trail. And then, her city enacted a face-covering in public spaces policy. Sadly it met with open rebellion and scorn. Yet, she had always been a bit old-fashioned, and that often entails following the rules.The Rules If you bristle that your rights are being violated when you are asked to wear a mask – or a shirt – or shoes – or a uniform-or a bathing suit – please save that energy and zeal for issues of prejudice we have recently witnessed – like Stars Upon Thars. In my opinion, mandatory testing should not be for all – nor should mandatory immunizations – or immunizations that have not been fully tested. But hey, bandanas for all is no great sacrifice – nor is a six-foot rule grievous to she who rather likes her space on the trail or in the grocery store.Keep on Doing Good

If you would protest, stay fit and stay well. What you eat for breakfast and what you wear may be important.
If you would cry out, don’t cry “wolf,” save your voice for what really matters. Keeping your instrument (be it voice, strings or pen) well exercised will keep your music – and you – alive.
Be strong! Flaunt your fashion! Keep calm. Save your protestations for things that really matter.

Keep doing it – day after day! Keep putting one foot in front of the other. Be courteous to your neighbor. Fight evil. May Love be with you.

Character, Emotional Health, Health and Long Life, Hiking and outdoor beauty, Spiritual Well Being

Golden Rule Hiking

May 6, 2020 Cherry Leave a comment

I don’t often read or quote the Bible anymore, but verses learned at a young age, like any other classic recitation, frequently pop into my mind unbidden to inform and motivate.

“Every place where you set your foot will be yours!”(Deuteronomy 12:24)

“I will give you every place where you set your foot.” (Joshua 1:3)

These words have pushed me to get out every day, to hike harder, farther – to persevere and claim.

My name is not Abraham or Moses or Joshua and though I would love to own a little postage stamp of this land (and my own four walls), I am perfectly aware this land has been deeded to someone else for decades.

But the health that rises up to meet me on the trail, the whole health; mind, soul, body? That I claim. And the beauty? All of it is given me-every place I set my foot. All is mine. Each and every gift of the hike. The gifts of putting one foot in front of another are numerous:

Inspiration

Insight into myself, and to others

Perseverance

Peace

Balance

Dopamine, Endorphins, Serotonin

Empathy

Independence

Resolution

Application

Stamina

Perspective

These are gifts the trail gives to me, and I must walk the length and breadth to claim the gifts. The best gifts are to be coveted, not out of greed, but out of wanting well; and if you are going to do to others as you would be done to and love your neighbor as you love yourself, shouldn’t you be about the business of loving yourself – taking care of yourself as much as you possibly can? Go ahead. Raise the bar. Claim your gifts from the trail.

This Land Is Your Land

Character, co-dependence, Emotional Health, Health and Long Life, Metaphor, Music and Theatre, Poetry and Prose, Spiritual Well Being

Herewith, I lay these heroes to rest

May 1, 2020 Cherry Leave a comment

Quarantunes #7

They say, no matter how multilingual one is, in times of stress, we return to our native language. There was much that was lost during COVID-19; but there was also much that was gained. I found freedom of expression in a return to my creative languages. I have learned to share again through music and words via technology. There has been time for reflection on my past – and time to ponder how much of that past I want to take into my future. Welcome to May, 2020! As we begin to come out of our isolation cocoons and venture back into our new normal; this week instead of a piano snippet; I present you an original reading, “I Saw My Hero Fall.”

I SAW MY HERO FALL

I saw my hero fall before my eyes

Gut-wrenched I was because for moment’s pause

I thought utopia had finally come

He was so handsome – understanding – wise

I saw my hero lying on the bed,

his arms entwined; with those of someone else

And though he never ceased to lavish me,

I could not acquiesce – be one of three,

To me, who once treasured his hero heart;

Dead. He is only a man after all.

I found my hero slow to act when back

To back with hardship shared, he shut me out

And I was left in cold and stone, to make

A home for me alone, from sticks and straw

That I myself had faithfully gathered

From the common man, I expect failure,

Not from men to whom I swear my fealty

From the riff raff, I endure rejection

But not from those entrusted with my heart.

I saw my hero fall, beside the desk

A massive falsehood swirling in his head

He had forgotten who he was, who I

Sideswiped by multitude mutinous lies,

Karma of ruthlessness returned to haunt,

And that is why I’m shy of any man,

who trumps my hand at brains, brawn, heart or lust;

I saw my hero fall, and I can trust

In mere men, no more, when gods are needed

I saw my hero fall before my eyes

Gut-wrenched I was because for moment’s pause

I thought utopia had finally come

He was so handsome – understanding – wise

©Cherry Odelberg April 29, 2020

Holding Out For a Hero

Character, Emotional Health, Health and Long Life, Leadership, Poetry and Prose, Relationships, Spiritual Well Being

And you thought they were cowering at home

April 26, 2020 Cherry 1 Comment

And you thought they were cowering at home?

But she was writing a book that will change the world;

Making music to sooth troubled hearts;

Building her body in preparation for acts of heroism;

Nurturing young minds formerly neglected in the headlong rush for survival;

Cowering at home?

He was repairing primary relationships;

Going solo to a lab to perfect a cure;

Relearning to write with paper and quill and penmanship;

Forging a pen mightier than a sword;

Reading and writing to defeat the dark enemies in his mind;

Communicating across oceans with the latest in technology;

Cowering at home?

She was centering her mind on what really matters;

Retrieving forgotten childhood relationships;

Apart physically but together in mission;

Cower? Who do you know that is cowering?

She’ll bring them fabric and elastic and instructions to manufacture masks;

Cowering was the farthest thing from her mind

It matters not if it was she or he or me;

Cower? They don’t cower. They seize the day.

Emotional Health, Fiction is Truth, Health and Long Life, Holidays and Traditions, Metaphor, Spiritual Well Being

Christmas is a Trip Down Memory Lane

December 20, 2019 Cherry Leave a comment

She reached out her hand to turn the handle, leaned in to give a gentle push with a shoulder, and plunged her face into the donut hole of the fresh wreath on the administrative office door. Suddenly she was falling, falling down the rabbit hole of memory, back more than three decades, to the Christmas she got engaged. Now that was a Christmas to remember! Who needs mistletoe? Evening after evening spent caressing under the Christmas tree -post Christmas show rehearsals – like a cast party of only two. Promises and proposals and a ring followed. Forgotten were his memories of rocky childhood Christmases; redacted her years of rejection before he entered her life.

Pine, spruce, cedar, fir. It’s beginning to smell a lot like Christmas, everywhere you go. All in all, what we love best about Christmas is the trip down memory lane, the nostalgia of Christmases past, the promise of generosity and good surprises. The hope, the belief, that hard times can be suspended for 24 hours – or 48 – or 12 days-or an entire month.

Some Christmases are so rich we forget the tough times that came before. This season, may you forget the tough times that came after as well! Few of us are granted happily ever after. There will be grief and pain of loss.

Here’s the thing about trips down memory lane. You may savor a good memory one instant and the next moment be rear-ended by grief because that person or those good times will never come again.

Consider: “She reached out her hand to turn the handle, leaned in to give a gentle push with a shoulder, and plunged her face into the donut hole of the fresh wreath on the administrative office door. Suddenly she was falling, falling down the rabbit hole of memory,” And those good times are her right – they are a reality – something that really happened – they belong to her as much as any of the negative realities or rippings and tearings of the ensuing 30 years.

Embrace the memories. Let them enfold and warm you. Choose to engrave that small cameo permanently in your heart. Love it. Savor it. Linger over it. Don’t let all the hardship or misunderstanding of following years dull this singular memory.

Here’s to Christmas and many trips down memory lane!

Emotional Health, Health and Long Life, Hiking and outdoor beauty, Spiritual Well Being

October

November 3, 2019 Cherry Leave a comment

To begin with, She didn’t turn the heat on until October 30. October was a very beautiful month.

Beautiful in that she got out a record number of times – every weekend – to hike or kayak or hug the trees – the beautiful, blazing- fall-festooned trees. She travelled a little bit for work and saw other communities adorned with yellows, golds, orange hues, and sometimes even reds.

She ate right. She planned lunches and cleaned up left-overs.

She made every effort to sleep right.

She got away from work and outside a record number of times.

She even got outside with her work a few times.

She was not often alone in her outdoor exercise.

There were friends.

Quality friends who came to visit; kindred spirits to host.

Yes. It was a very good October. Not often did she wake with that sinking feeling – that feeling of dread.

Never did she have to say, “It is too hot to hike.”

Often did she say, “It is so beautiful, my spirit is refreshed.”

Frequently she said yes to kayaks and hiking sticks and shorts and sandals. This is a good thing, a very good thing, for winter is coming and soon it will be too cold to slosh through calve- deep creeks on a trek to somewhere beautiful. She didn’t do any canning this year, but she did prepare for winter. She stored up the good times.

Emotional Health, Spiritual Well Being

A thirst for writing

November 2, 2019 Cherry Leave a comment

You know that feeling when you think you are hungry and you eat something – and then something more – only to find you were really thirsty and a glass of water would have sufficed ?

She rose with the sun in a remote motel, brewed a cup of tea, started some oatmeal in the microwave. It was still a few hours before work. She tried to check her email by laptop. Not enough bandwidth. She tried to open it by phone. Fluctuating bars. She ate a few bites of oatmeal and tried Instagram by phone. The image remained frozen. She sipped her tea, polished off the oatmeal, experimented with a hotspot for laptop. Tried Facebook via hotspot. Wondered what the rest of the world was up to. Tried every alternative. Email by phone. Instagram by hotspot. Facebook by phone. Nothing.

So she gave up on finding out what the rest of the world was doing, filled her water reservoir, strapped on her sandals and headed out to explore the landscape.

But what she really craved was her leather journal and pen.

Emotional Health, Spiritual Well Being, Uncategorized

The Churches of Page

January 28, 2018 Cherry Leave a comment

The Churches of Page (Part one), wherein I visit five out of a baker’s dozen

By way of full disclosure, I must first admit that I was raised in church, steeped in church, schooled in church; in fact, spent an inordinate amount of time each week in church from the age of five days old right on up through middle age. I once held strong opinions on doctrine, standards, predestination, infallibility, life after death – and especially the practice of perfect attendance at corporate worship.

If you must know, I have been from time to time a collector of churches. On my first foray as an adult and away from home, I collected pictures of all the beautiful churches I stumbled upon in Germany; the church in Konigsee, the cathedral in Strasbourg; tiny, abandoned capellas in small hamlets.

The churches in Germany are old, very old, hundreds of years old. The churches in Page are closer to my age, built in the 60s, brick or stucco and often including a parsonage next door. On my first drive into town, they caught my eye. Not because of architectural beauty, but because of church proliferation in such a small population. Church Row. Eleven churches line Lake Powell Boulevard. St Peter’s list of 13 welcome you to Page on Highway 98.

“What small parking lots,” I said aloud as I scanned the neighborhood. “There is a story here. I bet they work together and schedule services so as to share parking space.” As I drove my way down Lake Powell Blvd on that, my freshman day in Page, I came to an ecumenical resolve: I would visit each of the churches in Page. I would find the story.

Page was founded in 1957. That explains a lot. It means Page is relatively young as municipalities go. From the get-go it was planned, engineered. And it was planned and engineered in the 50s, that bucolic time of home, hearth, God and country, and Betty Crocker.

Turns out those churches do work together on special events. They do get together for benevolent purposes. Nevertheless, I have somewhat against thee, oh churches of Page, for you all meet at 10:00 am on Sunday morning.

I arrived at St. David’s Episcopal right on time. I chose St. David’s first for no particular reason except that my father is named David as is my favorite cousin and two other cousins. Also, it was Sunday, so I had missed my opportunity to begin properly with the Adventist Church. Two other cars and my Colorado-bred Subaru had the choice of parking spaces. No shared parking lots needed here, I concluded. Also, it appeared not to matter whether I chose the gospel side or the epistle side. Seats were available everywhere. Shaking hands with the greeter, I explained my mission: to visit all the churches in Page. “We hope you will come back another time,” he said, “When we are all here, every one is at district conference in Utah, today.” How episcopal can you get?

As a self-guided, ecumenical, eclectic church hopper, I hopped right over the next church – the LDS– and saved them until later – besides, they will come out two-by-two looking for me anyway, I reasoned. And they did! But that is another story.

The next available Sunday found me entering the nave of the Lutheran Church – Shepherd of the Desert, to be specific and Page is certainly in the desert. The Lutherans were a few more in number, the parking lot put to use. On that particular Sunday morning, they were enjoying the acoustic guitar ministry of a visitor from Flagstaff; a man who used to live in Page. While in Page, he was a member of the Assembly of God and then the Nazarene – or was it the other way around? Then he moved to Flagstaff and joined the Lutherans. Apparently I had just found a fellow church connoisseur – or would that be better classified as church drifter?

At the United Methodist Church I met five ladies, four older and grayer than I and one much younger (the minister). The women introduced themselves, were friendly and interested in my quest to visit all the churches in Page. “Where did you go last?” asked one. “The Lutheran Church,” says I. “Oh,” she said confidentially leaning toward me on the padded pew we shared, “I hear they have lots of men there.”

Perceiving that it is good to break up the routine once in awhile, I veered completely off course the next week and cut across from third base to shortstop to try out the relocated Faith Bible Chapel. What have we here? Not all men, not all women, not all gone to conference, but if the red-white-and blue flags and floral arrangements don’t lie; a fine example of God and Country. Furthermore, as I scanned the assembled multitude, I concluded they were also a fine example of the Sunday School chorus, “red and yellow, black and white; they are precious in His sight.” Thus, I was comforted by a good representation of the creative praise and worship music and ethnic diversity usually found in bigger box churches.

Feeling bereft of good manners and dreading making a bad first impression, I nevertheless pealed into the parking lot of the Assembly of God church at 10:02 am. Perhaps I should turn back now? Forsake my bent to tardiness and simply visit another time? Peace, be still my guilty soul. Behold, here was a casual- Friday- clad greeter still shaking hands at the entrance. With a warm welcome, he took my hand, shepherded me to a side door, and flung wide the gate. He announced my name to a room full of baby-boomers all facing me like I had just blindly entered their elevator. Amid questions, I quickly explained myself, “…and so I resolved to visit all the churches of Page…” Interest piqued. Ears perked up. With genuine curiosity one woman asked, “Have you been to the Seventh Day Adventist Church?” “Because we would really like to know what they are building back there in the garden area,” explained another.

The churches of Page; they are interested in you and interested in each other.

Yes, I am well churched. I have played the piano in churches all across the United States. I have played for churches in Karlsruhe Germany, Chicago, Dallas, Denver, Seattle and smaller villages scattered throughout the Rocky Mountains. I have been to church for the same reasons I have played the piano: for weddings, for funerals, for revivals and for my own enjoyment.

Ah, churches of Page, you serve such a necessary purpose in the fabric of life and death. No wonder they intentionally plotted you in to the planned community. No wonder your head diocese, general assembly, or conference promptly arranged to build a House of God and to begin seeking the lost in this desert -parched, sandstorm-tossed construction community.

Yes, churches of Page, you well serve that necessary purpose in the fabric of life and death in Page Arizona. Nevertheless, I have somewhat against you for you all meet at 10:00 am. Alas, I am used to larger cities and bigger boxes. I like the option of a Saturday evening service. That way, I can have leisure meditative time on both Saturday and Sunday mornings and spend Sunday morning hiking alone – with my Creator.

But I also carry the guilt of one raised to be in church on Sunday morning, Sunday night and Wednesday midweek. Some feel comfort in the formal liturgies of episcopal and catholic churches – and yes, I mean that with a lower case e and a universal c! Those folks know when to sit, stand, kneel; when to say “Thanks be to God” and when to recite, “And also with you;” when to meekly receive the transformed elements from the one serving as priest.

I, on the other hand, was raised in a congregation that eschewed liturgy, chose to shout Hallelujah and to say A-Men, instead of the more cultured Ah-men. And so, with some feelings of trepidation, I returned to the fold for one Sunday and one Sunday only.

At the Nazarene Church I slipped into the first pew that seemed moderately available to a solitary visitor. Don’t get me wrong, there were plenty of empty rows up front and no self-respecting Nazarene Church would ever show more prestige to the wealthy than the least among you; nor assign honor and a pew plaque to give importance to select families or well-coffered patrons. Today, I am the outsider, but I know this gig. I know there are pillars of the church who have attended here since the cornerstone was laid and those august persons expect to be and are expected to be in their usual- though unmarked-pew. The pews are cushioned and less severe than those of old. There is the usual sitting and standing and prayer requests and singing of all the verses. After 40 years of absence, I can still sing all the words and harmonies without cracking the hymnal.

There is an entire row of churches in Page. I need to complete my pilgrimage with resolve. So far, I have visited – and in some cases returned – to five churches in 10 months. Not bad at all for a woman who prefers to spend Sunday mornings hiking alone – or with my Creator. I prefer to think of my hikes as following the example of Enoch – just putting one foot in front of the other until I am no more.

Emotional Health, Family, Goals and Dreams, Health and Long Life, Spiritual Well Being

MERRY CHRISTMAS 2017!

December 11, 2017 Cherry 3 Comments

The first time in a long time, I really felt like writing a Christmas letter. Looking back, there were so many landmark accomplishments in 2017, we don’t even need to talk about toils, trials and setbacks.

For location, location, location, you can’t beat sleeping in a beautiful place whether in the company vehicle or your own camp worthy conveyance. Here’s a sampling of my favorite, beautiful, sleeping in the car locations:

Ouray Colorado

Notom Road just outside Capitol Reef

Moki Dugway near Muley Point

Williams Arizona near the Grand Canyon Railway

Bluff Utah for a star party

Dixie National Forrest

The main difficulty with sleeping in the company vehicle lies in remembering to transfer all the necessary items from your own, perfectly outfitted Subaru, into the company car while still leaving room for the merchandise you are delivering or the event you are supporting. I spent the night in the company vehicle four times in 2017. I matched that number in my Outback. Though smaller, my Subaru has lots of little niceties- things like curtains, a sleeping mat, a fuller range of hiking gear.

You make discoveries when you sleep in a car – whether the company vehicle or your own. You acknowledge things like:

Burrrr it’s cold. All I really want for Christmas is a zero degree, down sleeping bag.

I spent the first two and a half months of 2017 at Natural Bridges National Monument where I am pleased to say I hiked all the trails. On March 15^th I arrived in Page AZ. I waited through a long hot summer in Page for a chance to really get out and hike and explore the area. With temperatures often breaching 100 degrees, all hikes had to be completed before 8:00 am. While I waited – not so patiently – I swam in Lake Powell every night after work just to lower my core body temperature to a comfortable state.

September temperatures slacked off enough to start seeking beautiful trails. In October came reward in a big way for a tedious and difficult summer. With my daughter, Andrea, I hiked the South Kaibab Trail into Grand Canyon, stayed the night at Phantom Ranch and hiked out the next day via Bright Angel Trail.

In November I got the serendipitous chance to drive to Kanab and spend a few hours with son Philip. Also in November, I spent a weekend near Torrey with my brother and sister-in-law. There have been scattered trips to Grand Junction to visit family, friends, son Kevin and grandkids, though not enough to satisfy my parents.

I continue to write and make music-mostly for my own fulfillment. A few more experiences are in my inspirational arsenal and a few more guitar chords under my belt.

I wish you a Merry Christmas 2017!

In the coming New Year, I wish you the healing tonic of getting out in Nature. Nature is beautiful. Nature heals. Nature is God’s gift of love to those of us who are unable to find solace in the arms of a human lover. Whether you hike, bike or drive; camp, glamp, or pamper, I wish you Beauty – and the Great Outdoors.

Sipapu Bridge largest of the Natural Bridges

Andrea heading down the steep and multitudinous switch backs of the South Kaibab.

Putting One Foot in Front of the Other, Hiking for Life!