Summer simmers down with cool night breezes and hurricane season bringing rain to the mountains. I'm in my new home in my old neighborhood. Excited about the new job, still snagging hours at my tried and true place of employment. Community is quiet, but steadfast - with the promise of crescendo.
I find myself with more time and space to breathe than I remembered possible. It's refreshing, and disorienting. Geronimo is transitioning well, but insatiably bored most of the time with no pup friends to pal around with. I'd be right in that boat with him if it weren't for the years of catch up I have in photo and music editing. Here's to digital media...
I haven't QUITE got inspired back to the running/ biking scene... but I feel it coming... in due time. The past few weeks have required a lot of city life tweaking, nesting, pacing, and processing. Slow and sure I'm learning to be all here.
Latest Triumphs :
My first Crock Pot prepared meal (chili, got multiple thumbs up from a few unbiased buds)
Re-introduction to grocery shopping
Tasting and Articulating Coffee nuances
Showing up to work early! score!
Multiple hostess opportunities for oasis needing friends
Getting my very tiny kayak back on the river, back in some LEGIT waves
Not driving for days in a row. Woot Woot self propelled travel!
Getting off the waiting list, into the college class I need
R O C K I N G out
I guess that's about it for now. Once I really get this photo editing under control perhaps I'll share a few images. Hope you are well and the change of seasons breathes refreshing inspiration into your life.
Friday, August 26, 2011
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Float Like a Butterfly, Sting Like a Bee
Roughly a week ago I found myself on a surprisingly therapeutic float down the Lower New River. Among the epic surf and other awesomeness of our guide, Mike, I learned this story:
In the 1960's a little known boxer named Cassius Clay won his first professional match against Tunny Huntsinger, one of the best boxers at the time. Clay, later taking on the name Muhammed Ali, went on to be one of THE most famed boxers of all time. Huntsinger took the blow as a retirement enticement and returned to his hometown of Fayetteville, West Virginia, soon after becoming police chief for many years.
I might be botching the details of the story a little but from what I remember Ali and Huntsinger remained good friends, Ali even showed up for his police retirement celebration when the two were old men. Somewhere around that time a reporter asked Ali what the toughest match of his life was. Ali thought for awhile, before saying.... a lot of different matches in my career were tough for different reasons.... it's hard to pick just one. But I can tell you this - no boxer hit me harder than Tunny Huntsinger.
I've been thinking about the story a lot this past week. I'm working through the second consecutive seasonal transition of BIG change. Not that THAT in itself is new to my life, but it has me thinking about all the transitions and chapters that seem to come so quick these past five years. Montana to Virginia. Botetourt to Roanoke. Roanoke to nomad. Nomadding myself to Montana. Montana to Luray to pinball to..... Roanoke.
Each challenging and beautifully complicated in their own right. But if I had to choose - I don't think any has dealt a harder blow than Mountain Campus.
It amazes me - the content of a year. The ups and downs, triumphs and tribulations, the life lessons.
My time in Luray leaves me overflowing with all of that. And those lessons - their poignancy and real-ness making them equally valuable and sad.
As I sit here in a borrowed home, on the threshold of my next chapter I do not intend to dwell on the past or the in between, nor gloss over whatever pain or hurt the recent past has brought.
My hopeful prayer is to look the wound straight on-clean it and bandage it appropriately, change the dressings when needed, and someday - after it heals, be grateful for the scar stories it holds.
Those hard blows sting. I might spend a little time down for the count.... and those truths cycle through me.
perceiving then that they might take him by force he withdrew to the mountain, alone.
I will not abandon you nor leave you as orphans, I will come for you.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
These three remain - faith, hope, and love. And the greatest of these is Love.
And as far as the particulars of Mountain Campus boxing matches... I'm comforted knowing I left every ounce of energy I had on the court.
Here's to fall. Ready or not.
In the 1960's a little known boxer named Cassius Clay won his first professional match against Tunny Huntsinger, one of the best boxers at the time. Clay, later taking on the name Muhammed Ali, went on to be one of THE most famed boxers of all time. Huntsinger took the blow as a retirement enticement and returned to his hometown of Fayetteville, West Virginia, soon after becoming police chief for many years.
I might be botching the details of the story a little but from what I remember Ali and Huntsinger remained good friends, Ali even showed up for his police retirement celebration when the two were old men. Somewhere around that time a reporter asked Ali what the toughest match of his life was. Ali thought for awhile, before saying.... a lot of different matches in my career were tough for different reasons.... it's hard to pick just one. But I can tell you this - no boxer hit me harder than Tunny Huntsinger.
I've been thinking about the story a lot this past week. I'm working through the second consecutive seasonal transition of BIG change. Not that THAT in itself is new to my life, but it has me thinking about all the transitions and chapters that seem to come so quick these past five years. Montana to Virginia. Botetourt to Roanoke. Roanoke to nomad. Nomadding myself to Montana. Montana to Luray to pinball to..... Roanoke.
Each challenging and beautifully complicated in their own right. But if I had to choose - I don't think any has dealt a harder blow than Mountain Campus.
It amazes me - the content of a year. The ups and downs, triumphs and tribulations, the life lessons.
My time in Luray leaves me overflowing with all of that. And those lessons - their poignancy and real-ness making them equally valuable and sad.
As I sit here in a borrowed home, on the threshold of my next chapter I do not intend to dwell on the past or the in between, nor gloss over whatever pain or hurt the recent past has brought.
My hopeful prayer is to look the wound straight on-clean it and bandage it appropriately, change the dressings when needed, and someday - after it heals, be grateful for the scar stories it holds.
Those hard blows sting. I might spend a little time down for the count.... and those truths cycle through me.
perceiving then that they might take him by force he withdrew to the mountain, alone.
I will not abandon you nor leave you as orphans, I will come for you.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
These three remain - faith, hope, and love. And the greatest of these is Love.
And as far as the particulars of Mountain Campus boxing matches... I'm comforted knowing I left every ounce of energy I had on the court.
Here's to fall. Ready or not.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Summer Solstice
The longest day of the year ended in the most appropriate way. With lightening darting across the mountains, making spiderwebs through stormy skies covering the Roanoke Valley. I drive too fast through sheets of rain with the radio too loud, wind tumbling in my windows.
Breathe, grin, release.
Breathe, grin, release.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
6.19. first night
The way these lightening bugs sparkle
has me wondering if the stars came down to earth
as clouds move through my fingers
and rain exhales into my chest.
has me wondering if the stars came down to earth
as clouds move through my fingers
and rain exhales into my chest.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Sabbath
One of my recent fascinations with a landscape is the color pallete it uses. Here in a saturated Shenandoah spring the world is blue. Blue mountains with a lush green foreground, the sky a hazy light blue.
As sun sets these mountains ripple into a blue sea, wave upon ridge. It's thick this evening. Still not hot enough to be oppressive, but moisture so visible you could part the air like curtains. And I've come to Hawksbill Creek.
Fathers walk with shoulder riding daughters, middle aged couples power walk beside one another - with ear buds in. Little town - it's a quiet village.
Sitting in the concrete pour spout just above the creek I can see a bird the size of my fist splashing about. I wish I could identify more eastern wildlife. A few key things I know - mountain laurel are radiant right now, honey suckle are scenting the hillsides, and Maddie says the size of blackberry flowers are promising for fruit in a few months.
There are so few moments in my life in Luray to sit back and absorb. Ours is a busy life of 1.5 activities, new students, shifting school groups, and enough sleep as we can muster. That part I am not sad to leave.
But turning new life chapters frequently presents itself with hopes and fears, and lately I have many fixated thoughts on - "what next?". As if we ever really know.
I've been thinking a lot about passion and joy. How my frequency and capacity for it has shifted so much the past 10 years And how lately, in what feels like the brink of walking deeper into bright happy places the dark stormy sides of me tug to not cross that threshold.
I guess we're currently in the middle of a month of hard work and busy weekends. Between that, a looming new chapter, and all the unanswered questions I suppose I've worked myself into a place with the Mean Reds.
I suppose this dusky creek is my Tiffany's. The only thing to calm me down. The quiet proud look of it- nothing bad could happen here. But then again, I guess Audrey's feelings about a jewelry store don't exactly relate to Bek and a creek. Last week this creek was flooded - something bad DEFINITELY could've happened here, but maybe for me it's more important to be in a place with the capacity for great calm or great turbulence and feel fluid with it.
Mint, chamomile and freshwater funk mix with a distant cigarette and my subdued lime-coconut lotion.
Steve asked me this week why I love to be outside. Without much thought I told him I love the wildness and freedom I have there. It's been strange to me in this Luray job how infrequently I feel wild or free. I hope the youngins I work with feel that.
My prayer is that whatever comes after June there will be laughter, reflection, business, quiet times, and that love which is present will overcome fear and hurt from the past.
And that a river runs through it.
As sun sets these mountains ripple into a blue sea, wave upon ridge. It's thick this evening. Still not hot enough to be oppressive, but moisture so visible you could part the air like curtains. And I've come to Hawksbill Creek.
Fathers walk with shoulder riding daughters, middle aged couples power walk beside one another - with ear buds in. Little town - it's a quiet village.
Sitting in the concrete pour spout just above the creek I can see a bird the size of my fist splashing about. I wish I could identify more eastern wildlife. A few key things I know - mountain laurel are radiant right now, honey suckle are scenting the hillsides, and Maddie says the size of blackberry flowers are promising for fruit in a few months.
There are so few moments in my life in Luray to sit back and absorb. Ours is a busy life of 1.5 activities, new students, shifting school groups, and enough sleep as we can muster. That part I am not sad to leave.
But turning new life chapters frequently presents itself with hopes and fears, and lately I have many fixated thoughts on - "what next?". As if we ever really know.
I've been thinking a lot about passion and joy. How my frequency and capacity for it has shifted so much the past 10 years And how lately, in what feels like the brink of walking deeper into bright happy places the dark stormy sides of me tug to not cross that threshold.
I guess we're currently in the middle of a month of hard work and busy weekends. Between that, a looming new chapter, and all the unanswered questions I suppose I've worked myself into a place with the Mean Reds.
I suppose this dusky creek is my Tiffany's. The only thing to calm me down. The quiet proud look of it- nothing bad could happen here. But then again, I guess Audrey's feelings about a jewelry store don't exactly relate to Bek and a creek. Last week this creek was flooded - something bad DEFINITELY could've happened here, but maybe for me it's more important to be in a place with the capacity for great calm or great turbulence and feel fluid with it.
Mint, chamomile and freshwater funk mix with a distant cigarette and my subdued lime-coconut lotion.
Steve asked me this week why I love to be outside. Without much thought I told him I love the wildness and freedom I have there. It's been strange to me in this Luray job how infrequently I feel wild or free. I hope the youngins I work with feel that.
My prayer is that whatever comes after June there will be laughter, reflection, business, quiet times, and that love which is present will overcome fear and hurt from the past.
And that a river runs through it.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Twitterpated
So, it's been awhile.
Sorry.
Life's been throwing me a lot of surprises - the type that feel better living through than writing about.
The quick version is I moved stayed at Camp Bethel for a month with Seyra before moving back to Luray mid March. Through that move a lot of torn feelings surfaced about wanting to continue the life I had lived in the winter - plugged into church community, Outdoor Trails friends, and other Roanoke area buds - in a place where I know folks and can help them by staying in that community. Through City Light Groups my continued prayer request was - not my will but your's be done Lord, and I dragged my feet pouting north to Luray.
But Spring is no time to pout. And after a few busy weeks life turned down a few interesting side trails. I have realized Sheridan is a remarkable company to work for and feel very blessed to be employed by a progressive approachable employer and bosses. Our schedule is crazy sometimes, the kids are too talkative sometimes, but overall I finally know all my ropes set up knots (though I'm still a little shakey on the muenter mule) and feel solid about my role as an Outdoor Educator. The nights are still chilly, breeze is fresh, and the canopy has been renewed. It rains- a lot - and I can feel myself refreshed, growing.
I miss my girlfriends this season. My good bud from summer/ fall has moved on to Arizona. And my other gal pal has been working on personal stuff, so there is a bittersweet longing to make more quality girl time happen in "off" time. I might have a shopping date with Morgan tomorrow morning- ohhhh yeah. =)
I've been getting back south to B'tot A LOT on my many weekends off. It's blissful. Though I find myself needing a few weekends here and there to detox and totally recoup around Shenandoah -no major travel or plans, just rest.
Regarding Matters of the Heart - for the first time in a long time, I am decidedly with someone who is holistically wonderful to be with. Who he is, who we are together, and who I am with and apart from him leaves me joyful.
It's a good season.
In a short month and a half life will turn over again as my year contract in Luray comes to a close. It will be a time for big decisions and new chapters. Please pray that God illuminates the path ahead as much as needed and that in each surprise I will see blessing and joy - rain or shine.
I'll try to keep you posted =)
Sorry.
Life's been throwing me a lot of surprises - the type that feel better living through than writing about.
The quick version is I moved stayed at Camp Bethel for a month with Seyra before moving back to Luray mid March. Through that move a lot of torn feelings surfaced about wanting to continue the life I had lived in the winter - plugged into church community, Outdoor Trails friends, and other Roanoke area buds - in a place where I know folks and can help them by staying in that community. Through City Light Groups my continued prayer request was - not my will but your's be done Lord, and I dragged my feet pouting north to Luray.
But Spring is no time to pout. And after a few busy weeks life turned down a few interesting side trails. I have realized Sheridan is a remarkable company to work for and feel very blessed to be employed by a progressive approachable employer and bosses. Our schedule is crazy sometimes, the kids are too talkative sometimes, but overall I finally know all my ropes set up knots (though I'm still a little shakey on the muenter mule) and feel solid about my role as an Outdoor Educator. The nights are still chilly, breeze is fresh, and the canopy has been renewed. It rains- a lot - and I can feel myself refreshed, growing.
I miss my girlfriends this season. My good bud from summer/ fall has moved on to Arizona. And my other gal pal has been working on personal stuff, so there is a bittersweet longing to make more quality girl time happen in "off" time. I might have a shopping date with Morgan tomorrow morning- ohhhh yeah. =)
I've been getting back south to B'tot A LOT on my many weekends off. It's blissful. Though I find myself needing a few weekends here and there to detox and totally recoup around Shenandoah -no major travel or plans, just rest.
Regarding Matters of the Heart - for the first time in a long time, I am decidedly with someone who is holistically wonderful to be with. Who he is, who we are together, and who I am with and apart from him leaves me joyful.
It's a good season.
In a short month and a half life will turn over again as my year contract in Luray comes to a close. It will be a time for big decisions and new chapters. Please pray that God illuminates the path ahead as much as needed and that in each surprise I will see blessing and joy - rain or shine.
I'll try to keep you posted =)
Friday, February 25, 2011
February
I just found two lone bags of "Montana Gold" tea amongst herbal cold care nastiness. Jackpot.
The first time I had Roobioos (African red bush tea) I was in a hospitable stranger's home in Manchester Center, Vermont - warm, dry, clean, and recharging - what a simple blessing for a weary foot traveler.
Today is another weary, rainy, sublimely calm day. My only tasks until 5:30 are -keep the fire going in the wood stove, coax Geronimo to go out in the rain, feast with Sarah and pop enough mucus expectorant and pain pills to be able today to photograph a 3 month old this weekend.
My new home is in a wooded park-like glen where spring-fed streams and ponds flow and trout spawn. I have lived here a week - and despite the business in the rest of my life I still manage quiet walks through fields of mountain valleys, and explorative jaunts upstream on Wilson Creek.
I hope to take it up to the ridge soon and find the AT shelter where I spent the first of many nights on my 2008-2009 journey.
My new housemate is beautiful. We begin our days with laughter, take to the world outside our doors with gusto and commitment, and wind down with counseling and wonder.
My new church is the closest thing to living "christ" community I've experienced in 5 years (save my brief time at Missoula's Lions Den). And although face-to-face time promises to be short lived with my March 26th return to Luray - each moment with them is radiant and heart-felt.
I am in my second week of physical therapy. I pout more than I should about 3ish hours of stretches and strengthening exercises every day, but I am excited about the idea of relieving tension, realigning, and feeling strong.... eventually.
Geronimo can't the squirrels out our window from his bed. But he knows the peace this chilly, grey, wet day brings. And even he is beginning to enjoy our little cabin.
Each drink of south african inspired Montana goodness brings soothing to my sore throat, and all I can think is - thank you God, for this simple happy season.
The first time I had Roobioos (African red bush tea) I was in a hospitable stranger's home in Manchester Center, Vermont - warm, dry, clean, and recharging - what a simple blessing for a weary foot traveler.
Today is another weary, rainy, sublimely calm day. My only tasks until 5:30 are -keep the fire going in the wood stove, coax Geronimo to go out in the rain, feast with Sarah and pop enough mucus expectorant and pain pills to be able today to photograph a 3 month old this weekend.
My new home is in a wooded park-like glen where spring-fed streams and ponds flow and trout spawn. I have lived here a week - and despite the business in the rest of my life I still manage quiet walks through fields of mountain valleys, and explorative jaunts upstream on Wilson Creek.
I hope to take it up to the ridge soon and find the AT shelter where I spent the first of many nights on my 2008-2009 journey.
My new housemate is beautiful. We begin our days with laughter, take to the world outside our doors with gusto and commitment, and wind down with counseling and wonder.
My new church is the closest thing to living "christ" community I've experienced in 5 years (save my brief time at Missoula's Lions Den). And although face-to-face time promises to be short lived with my March 26th return to Luray - each moment with them is radiant and heart-felt.
I am in my second week of physical therapy. I pout more than I should about 3ish hours of stretches and strengthening exercises every day, but I am excited about the idea of relieving tension, realigning, and feeling strong.... eventually.
Geronimo can't the squirrels out our window from his bed. But he knows the peace this chilly, grey, wet day brings. And even he is beginning to enjoy our little cabin.
Each drink of south african inspired Montana goodness brings soothing to my sore throat, and all I can think is - thank you God, for this simple happy season.
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