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A Vow of Silence

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Last week, on Novel Matters; a writer’s blog I visit with frequency; the question was asked, “Where do you find quiet?” For me, the answer is simple; I find quiet most often in solitary hikes. 

In keeping with that answer, today I took a ramble down Rough Canyon. The scenery was stunning;  the quiet, deafening (except for the mountain lion in the brush that turned out to be a scrub jay).  My inner being was whispering, “I am listening.  I am listening.”

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Along the way, I acknowledged two things:

1) Sometimes you have to go deep into the woods (or the canyon) to find your soul – or God; whichever was lost

2) Over the last few months, without realizing it, I seem to have taken a vow of silence.

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Earlier this evening, a couple of friends from a quartet in which I used to sing dropped by.  It was good to see them.  We caught up on bits and pieces of news.  I showed them my favorite clips of Pentatonix.  We shared our mutual love for the transcendence that happens when musicians do music with excellence. And then one of them asked, “what are you singing these days?”

I laughed ruefully and answered, “I think I may have taken a vow of silence.”

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Singing is not something I do well alone. Harmony is my favorite part. Besides, I’ve had a couple of uncomfortable experiences lately when my voice failed me.  Once, when I tried to imitate a popular singer for a piano student and the other time when I tried to sing along to my own piano accompaniment at a nursing home. With nine years experience teaching music in the classroom, both these outcomes are out of character. Without realizing it, I entered a self-imposed vow of silence.

Writing is a solitary activity which I love and which feeds my soul.  There again, I have been partially silenced by letting the cares and duties of the rest of the world encroach. 

Walking is also an activity I enjoy best alone.  Walking nourishes my soul. Music, the love of my life, requires copious amounts of alone rehearsal time; yet, when it comes time to perform, I must break the silence.

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A vow of silence can be a good thing when it’s time to self-examine or listen.  On the other hand, you may have made false rules, beliefs or punishments for yourself if a vow of silence creeps up and overtakes you unnoticed.  

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The relationship between Yearn, Long, Hunger, Desire

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The other day when I was walking Upper Liberty Cap, I realized that I was hungry. Surprised?  I was nearly two hours in and beginning the more strenuous descents which would require the same, if not more, exertion on the way out.

There was a time in my life I avoided exercise and exertion for this very reason; it made me hungry.  Hunger made me eat. Hunger made me grab the quickest food in sight and stuff it in my mouth.  Eating desperately and nervously in this way made me gain weight. Gaining weight made it less possible to fulfill the other desires in my life; beauty, love, well-being, acceptance…

These words are closely related:  Yearn, Long, Hunger, Desire.  Choose any to fill in the blank and you have similar meaning.

After the rain, Upper Liberty Cap
After the rain, Upper Liberty Cap

I __________for food.

I __________for love.

I __________for rest or relief.

I __________for sleep.

I __________for society.

I __________for meaning.

I __________for spiritual things.

There is a tendency to substitute them in our lives; to cope by consuming one in place of the other. However, they do not have the exact same outcome.  If I yearn and have not, I shall be sad.  If I hunger and have not, I shall starve. If I yearn and sate it with eating, I become fat. Worse, even, to substitute a chemical substance and become dependent in my quest for fulfillment of legitimate needs and desires.

Upper Liberty Cap Trail
Upper Liberty Cap Trail

Unlike the unsated hungers that cause addiction, when I became hungry on my hike, I was craving good things, healthful food. The exertion brought out the best in me.

There are times hunger is a good thing. The person who does not exert himself / herself never feels hunger.  Desire is put to sleep in an apathetic trance.

An apathetic person never feels the exhilaration of goals achieved, personal best or excellence.

The hunger I felt on my walk was genuine physical hunger for food.  Good food. My yearning for beauty was abundantly satisfied. Every bone and muscle felt the exhilaration of exertion. My longing to commune with the spiritual and touch the deep things of the created universe was sated. I had achieved a personal goal (hiking all the trails in the Colorado National Monument).

That is the kind of Hunger, Desire, Yearning, and Longing I wish for you. May your desire push you to achieve your goals and dreams. May your hunger be for good things.   May your yearnings and longings be sated with the best life and love and beauty have to offer.

Emotional Health, Goals and Dreams, Health and Long Life, Uncategorized

Hiking the minor bucket list

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It was a milestone that passed without fanfare; a sort of minor bucket-list item I had been working on since May of 2012.  I began work at the Colorado National Monument Visitor Center in mid-May last year.  At the interview, they asked me if I was familiar with  the many trails in the Monument.  I assured them I had hiked Serpent’s Trail and Devil’s Kitchen. Looking back, I am surprised they didn’t laugh at me outright.  There are at least 22 trailheads.

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Walking is a favorite activity. I love mountains, Nature’s beauty, the out-of-doors. My first year on Facebook (2008), the end-of-year stats wrap up indicated “walk” was my most used word.  Not bad for a musician.  Not bad for a writer.  Walking is my meditation and inspiration time, an hour or so devoted to ironing out the kinks in my thinking or feeling. Somewhere around the time I moved from beach to high desert, my walks turned into hikes. It helped that my house was located on rigorous mountain bike trails. Then came the cashier job in the heart of National Park Service public lands.

As I drove to my job on Saturdays and Sundays last year, I became fascinated with the various historic trails and scenic sites I passed. Curious, I took detours on the way home and began to seek out new hikes on my days off.

Two weeks ago as one of our recent Colorado monsoons ebbed, I sat out to explore Upper Liberty Cap Trail – my last frontier. Seated back in my car 3 1/2 hours later I realized I can now say I have hiked every marked trailhead in Colorado National Monument. That is a milestone! Without further ado, here is picture proof.

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Upper Liberty Cap Trail after the rain
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Monument Canyon from Canyon Rim Trail
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Independence Monument from Upper Monument Canyon Trail
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The view from Otto’s Trail
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Ute Canyon Trail
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No Thoroughfare Canyon – above the first pool and heading toward the waterfall in May
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Monument Canyon from The Island
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A peek inside Devil’s Kitchen
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Black Ridge in the winter
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Liberty Cap from lower Liberty Cap Trailhead
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Leadership and the New Kid on the Block

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I completed my university degree later in life – focused on using it toward the goal of writing and teaching music. The formal words on my diploma read, “Organizational Management – Leadership.”  Over the years, I have observed and experienced the benefits of servant leadership / leadership with love and wisdom; as well as the opposite. Here is what I think.

No matter your rank on the leadership ladder; if you are the new kid on the block, you must learn “the way we have always done it,” before the old timers will hear what you have to say regarding the new and improved. 

No matter how analytical you are, nor how clearly you can see what needs to happen; cool and aloof, behind the scenes changes are probably not going to accomplish all you were hired to change.  You need to add some extrovert to your introvert. At some point, you will have to rub shoulders with the good old boys and build a social relationship.

Many things are taught by example, but others do need to be addressed directly. Just because emergency surgery is effective and must be done to eradicate some practices; there is no reason for becoming knife happy and leveling the entire organization.  Remodels take time.  You may have to model and remodel again and again. 

In the beginning, (when you are the new kid on the block) it’s going to take a bit more of your personal time – whether you are on salary or hourly wages.

You must eliminate perfectionism as your goal and replace it with excellence.  Then, as you model again and again; it will be necessary to articulate the goal in an inspiring way.     You may have to explain clearly.  The challenge becomes how to speak plainly without being condescending. 

And all the while, keep asking yourself, “Am I leading by serving? Just doing enough to get the job done? Demanding that others do it my way, at my speed? Am I constantly jockeying for position, or am I leading in love?

 

Emotional Health, Home and Hearth, Metaphor, Uncategorized

The laughter of Autumn

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I love the fall.  Autumn is my favorite season.  Besides the break from summer heat; perhaps because of the break from summer heat, it is my most creative time of year.  In the fall, I begin to laugh again.  In the last 48 hours, two huge guffaws have escaped me.

  1. Listening to Colorado Public Radio while the female announcer was setting up a Bach Brandenburg Concerto. She mentioned the recent news that Voyager II is confirmed as having flown to infinity and beyond. You may be too young to know it, but Voyager II carries artifacts from our culture, expressing who we are as humans to unknown recipients of other stars and planets.  Bach’s music is on that space ship.  She then commented, “I wonder if the recording was vinyl or 8-track?”
  2. This morning as I carried out a quick perusal of Facebook, I came upon this little piece of wit:Image
Addiction, Character, co-dependence, Emotional Health, Health and Long Life, Home and Hearth, Religion, Spiritual Well Being, The Rules, Uncategorized

The case of the tragic M&Ms

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A handful of M&Ms sat side by side in a cut glass bowl.  They are tempting, and offered to me repeatedly – even urged on me.  I decline. But, everybody loves chocolate, you will say. And you are right.  Even I love chocolate, but I am allergic. Ah, you murmur, “that is tragic.” Not so. A simple, specific food allergy is something you can remedy immediately.  A tragedy leaves you helpless, wounded, hopeless. 

The M&Ms treasured in my antique heirloom bowl stand for misunderstanding and misinformation; miscommunication and misguided. I once knew an older woman who would attempt to mend broken relationships with the platitude, “It doesn’t matter. That was just a misunderstanding.”  To which I say, “It does matter!” It was far more than misunderstanding.  No amount of re-phrasing will clear up misguided misinformation!”

A few weeks ago, Novel Matters linked up a video presentation on cultural misunderstandings of poverty vs middle class vs affluence. You might think of it as the tragic case of M&Ms and Money. It was hugely informative to understanding the differences in background we bring to relationships.  Listening to Dr Ruby Payne speak cast an illuminating spotlight back over the decades of my upbringing and subsequent relationships.   I found myself thinking, “if I had only known.”

Money, as researchers have told us over and over, is one of the major conflict triggers in  relationships. We could probably recite the list together:  Money, Children, In-laws, Sex, Expectations, Religion….  For this post the other one that makes the list of tragic M&Ms is Marital intimacy.

Rarely do I agree 100% with a speaker, book or movie. I wonder how many relationships could be salvaged, healed or immunized if the video that follows went viral?  True to the 2,000 year legacy of the name, Mars Hill, the video that follows clears up misinformed, misguided, misunderstood, miscommunicated belief.

If you are a woman who has been shamed for desire, suffered the contempt of those who were misinformed, or deprived by pornography; let the healing begin.

Let Him Kiss Me

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Each season has its own melancholy

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Yesterday, the unwelcome September heat wave broke in a big way.  80 percent chance of rain was predicted.  Yes, I am sure it rained for at least 80 percent of a 24 hour period.  The resulting rain caused occupants of tour buses to repine a visit to the Colorado National Monument on a cloudy day. Just the day before others had faulted western Colorado for the heat. 

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We who enjoy 300 plus days of sunshine each year are not complaining. All over the internet acquaintances who have not baked all summer boasted of lemon meringue pies and savory stews. The resulting temperatures caused a spike in my own ability to think and act fast – and to long for travel. Apparently spring is not the only time that Zephirus has swete breeth and folk longen to “goon pilgrimages and palmers for to seken straunge strondes.” Creativity was ushered in by thoughts of fall. My qwerty keyboard and my piano keyboard are humming. 

Change is in the air.

Soon the glorious colors of fall will appear.

Each season has its own melancholy.

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Little Things Mean A Lot

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It is popular to speak of which star you were born under; but I was born under a song. 

The week I was born, “Little Things Mean A Lot,” was in the number one position according to Billboard Magazine. 

All my life I have loved small things, miniatures, tiny objects, little persons and entire microcosms encapsulated in a space the size of a walnut shell.  Details matter.  Little things mean a lot.  

I am not talking here about sweating the small stuff (although degrees fahrenheit is small stuff that makes me sweat). I am talking about enjoying the little things, appreciating the small stuff to the max.  A beautiful sunrise lasts a few minutes in a 24 hour day – but it means a lot.  A grain of sand is minuscule, but a few thousand thrown together make an unforgettable feeling between bare toes on a beach.

Smiles, good manners, random acts of kindness; are some of the little things that mean a lot.  These small things are riches, but not costly.  Trust me, the little things are worth the effort to remember. Don’t let it be said,

“And some things that should not have been forgotten were lost. History became legend. Legend became myth…(J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings)”

When the little things that mean a lot are forgotten, relationships are lost.  Opportunities missed. The shire is never the same. 

 
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No reserves meets the conscientious

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In his book “20,000 Days”, Robert D. Smith quotes William Borden, “No reserves, no retreats, no regrets.”  In my quest to live each year as though I have been given 365 days;  of these three, the one I most often omit is “no reserves.” How often I hold back, linger, wait. In that conservatism I insure that I have no cause for retreat or regret.

This week, Jeff Goins is blogging a slow down challenge.

I whole-heartedly understand the benefits (spiritual, mental, emotional, physical) for slowing down and savoring.  I have practiced it more often than not the past few years.  For the past six months I have been walking, writing, reading, playing the piano, enjoying the world around me, as often as possible. Yet, instead of continuing with that regime, I am doing the reverse.  I have taken a full time job. Chide me not.  I needed to eat and I had bills to pay.

I took a wonderful job, believing that a writer can find time to do what she loves to do – is inspired to do – write. What I had forgotten is, when I am over-busy, the inspiration – the desire – withers. On the other hand, I am remembering that inspiration also starves when the writer is hungry, worried about how to pay the rent. Once again, my priorities want to pick a fight.

Perhaps, “no reserves,” means no sleeping in? Waking and getting to a keyboard (piano or Mac) in time for sunrise is yet another source of inspiration. 

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

Yesterday, I saw my grandmother in the mirror

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The days have come and gone when I looked in the mirror and said “Hello, Mother!”  We’ve all heard the jokes. We women past a certain age have experienced that momentary start – seeing ourselves at the same age we vividly remember the face of our mother. The first time I saw my mother’s face in the mirror, I put on a bit more makeup and got a new hairstyle.

Yesterday, when I looked in the mirror, I saw my grandmother.  This is no insult. Grandma died at the young age of 65; having had no time to go gray. Her wits and energy  were still about her. The age at which I remember most vividly her daily influence on my life, is about my current age.

So, yesterday, with hair pulled back from my face and wound into a bun in preparation for a facial, I looked in the mirror, straight into my grandmother’s eyes. Yes, they were tired.  But they were tired from bold adventure.  They were Magna Carta eyes.  Eyes that came over on the Mayflower, with a faint trace of lips that said, “Speak for yourself, John.”

The face I was looking at was that of a woman who knows how to make school clothes and curtains from whatever is at hand, can fruits and vegetables in preparation for winter, knead and bake bread, teach school, ride a horse, plant and plow. She has bathed in the kitchen in water heated on a woodstove, made a home from houses old and new and loves to travel. She taught her sons how to throw and catch a softball and football, started her own business, wrote and published a book, and loves to roll with and support the creative endeavors of her children.

Oh wait.  I don’t think that last sentence applies to my grandmother.

Why then, do the young men smirk when I take my own car in for an oil change?  Why condescend when I ask – and pay – for help with a new car key?

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