Years ago when I started this blog my intention was to explain my journey from being a kid raised by two parents from inner city Chicago to living in Bend, pursuing the Bendlandia experience of constant outdoor recreation. That meant that instead of growing up on mountain bikes and in kayaks I hung out at the mall and “cruised the gut” as a teen (Bend kids are SO fortunate!!) Ironically, the real change started after I got into a whole bunch of trouble as a 15-year old, rebelling against my parents, pushing my independence and having “too much fun”. Finally, my actions caught up with me and I was “grounded for life” which ended up being just a month, and the exception was that I could do anything with the family. At the time my dad hadn’t been super present, either traveling or working a ton and subsequently hunkering down after work for some much-needed quiet-time. I have to credit my dad…maybe he realized the gap in our relationship but he showed up then, and the most impactful activity we did together was a private raft trip on the McKenzie river–just the guide, my dad, a family friend and me.
It was a full day trip and it was in the forest on the river. Duh. I explain this because that was kind of foreign to me. It’s not like I’d never been to the forest or seen a river, but this was “out there” and the river was so beautiful, the rapids were really fun and then we got to swim in the river!! The experience of being on/in the river WAS entirely new to me. I had so much fun and I just wanted to do it again.
You might think I fell in love with paddling right there and then, and chose to pursue a life as a guide. Nope. Not even a little. In fact it wasn’t for another 6 years that I’d make my way onto a raft again. But the experience and feeling of joy stayed with me, and when I made the decision to leave Salem a few years later it was Bend and living that lifestyle that I was chasing (finding and working a job at the Inn of the Seventh Mountain, which offered raft trips). From there, the rest is history.
I’ve spent the last 6 months spreading my dad’s ashes at various important places and yesterday it came full circle. I wanted to honor him on Father’s Day at a place so poignant to both he and I. I paddled the McKenzie river and was able to leave a “bit of dad” there. At the takeout, I released his ashes while two butterflies flew around as if to accompany him on the next step of his journey. These butterflies (the yellow and black ones that I lovingly call “yellow-tail swallow tiger somethings”) have special meaning to me and it was an emotional moment–in a very happy way. Be free dad…swim in the river and fly with the butterflies!
Some of my earliest memories are fuzzy yet profound…me waking in the morning and “getting to see dad”, post trip. We (my sister and I who were inseparable) couldn’t bug him before he woke, and he’d been gone for some amount of time (I was younger than 5 years so time was mostly irrelevant–it seemed “long”). But the first morning was always magical because that’s when we’d receive the “loot” from his travels. I remember a beautiful fan from Japan adorned with a painting of Mt Fuji and a coveted cloth doll from the Carribean–black fabric with a bright head scarf and huge gold hoop earrings. SO exotic, especially for me and my sister who never got presents except for birthday and holidays (this isn’t a “we walked ten miles in the snow both ways” comment…that’s just how things were). And after we got our gifts he would share stories. Fascinating and other-worldly, since again, we grew up differently. We DIDN’T travel all over as a family like so many kids I see these days. It was a quaint little life in unnoteworthy Salem Oregon. Big trips consisted of many visits to our family in Puget Sound area, or out to the Oregon coast (which is awesome).
But this. This was stuff out of the movies. Volcanoes and deep-sea diving, dancing and music, jungles and experiences that only someone like my dad–capable, adventurous, and a splash of rule-bending–could recount. *Note here, when I say rule-bending I mean ignoring signs like “Do not go beyond this sign” or “Danger”, not law-breaking. He was specifically moral in that sense.
It was exhilarating and it’s because of these memories of such tales, that both my sister and I have an inner wanderlust that is so fundamental to our being. Over time, I’ve realized I travel for NEW experiences. I’ll return to a location almost never, unless it’s for work. Or in this circumstance, to bring dad back.
My dad passed away with Alzheimer’s about four years ago. He battled it for quite a while–11 years which is far longer than average. The most heart-wrenching aspect of this horrible disease is that it steals the very essence of who the victim is. My mom says dad “faded away” which is true, and a very benign description of what actually happened. We didn’t have a memorial for dad and we blame Covid, but the truth is that none of us could really grasp it. My sister and I vowed to bring his ashes with us on travels but it wasn’t until now that we were/are ready. And we are. In a fun way, which is what dad would have wanted. I have a small, non-script jar and one of my favorite photos of my dad. We bring him with us unceremoniously in my back pack (I have it sitting next to me on the table as I write). We’ve shed no tears. In fact, I say “common dad, we’re going for a hike”. Again, this is how dad would have wanted things.
Beth and I chose this trip to begin memorializing him, because my dad came here for years to dive and fish with a group of close friends who called themselves the “Brothers of the Baja”. Now looking back as a 40+ human myself, I realize he was young and in the prime of his life…which lends toward some of the stories we heard (not the least of which involving tequila and why he never drank it again even before he quit drinking altogether) **. I recall him describing marlin fishing…also when he quit fishing altogether. Dad told us that they were observing the gorgeous marlin–stunning in color, up until the moment it was fished and died at which time it turned gray. That was the last time he ever fished.
This is my second trip to Baja and in the time spent here I have seen marine life to rival no other. Having lived in Maui for three years when it was still pretty undeveloped, I’ve seen some really cool stuff…beautiful sea creatures! But here in Baja, I have swam, snorkeled and sup’ed seeing sooo many amazing things just out the back door (literally–it’s about 30 steps down to the water). It’s really quite mind-blowing!! I can only imagine back then it was even more prolific.
So with all that said, we made the decision for this to be the first of many trips to take dad. We’ve already found a couple great places to free his ashes and there will be more. Welcome back dad. Welcome back.
**Dad quit drinking alcohol entirely when I was in my teens with one glaring exception. He was hiking in the jungles of Borneo the year after it reopened to American citizens. They hiked into a location inhabited by a tribe who believed that my dad and his traveling buddy Sam, were semi-deities. They hosted a dinner for the two of them and offered a ceremonial drink to them, in honor of the “friendship”. He clearly didn’t refuse.
This summer was pretty dang cool and as usual, when I’ve got the most to write about I’m too busy so I’ll hit some highlights…
A visit to “Zoo-town”!! It had been waaaay too long since I’d visited Missoula and some of the most important people in my world, having lived there for almost a decade. It was with a ridiculous amount of luggage that I flew into the now remodeled airport to get entirely laughed at by my BFF Deirdre. She wasn’t wrong…it was pretty silly how much I brought, considering the relatively short duration of my visit, however I had to bring my Atcha SUP so I could paddle the Blackfoot. And my bike stuff. And “go out to eat/drinks” clothes. And hiking clothes. And hanging out comfy clothes. Honestly, I ended up doing (and needing clothes/gear) for ALL of those things. We packed a lot into a relatively short time. It was great to see old stomping grounds and catch up with friends.
During this visit I said so many times “I don’t remember Montana being so beautiful”! It truly is, and I’ll be visiting more in the coming years. This visit, I stayed with Deirdre which worked great considering her location in the University district. Per the usual, Deirdre’s schedule was pretty full, but she was able to set aside blocks of time for us . When she had appointments, I was able to venture out to meet with other old friends. About the time when Deirdre got really really busy, Andre had finished up with his trial, and was able to dedicate some paddling, biking and hang out time (Andre is my ex of 8+ years and longtime friend ever since). We paddled the Blackfoot where I was able to finally confront Thibedeaux “falls” (it’s not really a falls but a class III rapid which had been my nemesis way back in the day when I was largely clueless to rivers and was beginning to learn whitewater kayaking…which did NOT go well. This time, I cleaned Thibedeaux on my SUP, and Andre and I shared a big “yeeehaw”, knowing what it meant to me. After the paddle, we met Deirdre for dinner and the two of them proceeded to tease me to death (like old times) which I absolutely adored. It felt like “home” regardless of how we’ve all changed and grown (I specifically leave out the word “mature” here). Ha! Andre has a lovely partner and daughter, and a thriving practice he opened. Deirdre is in high demand professionally and personally and owns a lovely three-story house, truck and camper–quite a leap from when she and I rented a few blocks from each other in humble dwellings (hers small enough so you couldn’t actually close the bathroom door all the way). The three of us have all suffered traumas, and also had huge wins, and the mutual love remains to this day. I can’t tell you how awesome that feels. Like coming home to a place where people who are chosen family accept and support me unconditionally.
The whole trip was surreal, to be in a place I’d lived, to the point of monotony, but to revisit with so much “new” to experience. Missoula is gorgeous with much vibrance and opportunity. Really enjoyed my time.
California Dreamin…. About two weeks after my trip to Missoula, I left for the South Fork of the American river to paddle with Davide Sartoni (River SUP Guy). I’d asked my sis to join me, and we planned to drive the 9-ish hours over three days. That was a leisurely and fantastic approach, exploring whatever caught our interest, spending the first night in Ashland. Our cute little Airbnb was perfectly located, just blocks from the historic downtown. We tootled around, had a nice dinner next to the creek and walked up through Lithia Park. The next morning, post balcony yoga session and an extra cup of coffee we continued south, with the majority of our day spent in Dunsmuir. Here we did two hikes. The first up Castle Crag where we viewed three separate formations of entirely different geologic eras, the most recent, Mount Shasta. It was an amazing view, and a fun (hot) hike so we were ready for our second riverside hike, where I introduced my sister to the “cold plunge”. Skeptical at first, she embraced the idea, and I think I might have another convert!! The plunge definitely helped cool and re-energize the both of us and were very ready for an earned cheeseburger and beer at Dunsmuir Brewery. Thoroughly exhausted and well-fed, we drove the 90 minutes to Red Bluff which dropped us out of the beautiful Shasta-Trinity National forest into the dry, rolling-hills landscape speckled with oak trees–very California-esque.
The next day was the final drive to our destination of Placerville, just outside of Coloma where I’d be meeting up with Davide. On the way we had a very spontaneous and delightful stop in old-town Sacramento. It’s over-the-top touristy but in the best way. Enjoyed drinks at Finnegans Irish bar making friends with the bartender who gave us some local beta, shot a round at the skeet shooting booth and got a sugar high simply walking into the huge Old-Fashioned Candy shop. But onward!!
I’m SO glad we chose Placerville which we both adored. This cute little town, the location where gold was first discovered in the California Gold Rush, has a historic district with boutiques, random shops, the oldest hardware store in the US and awesome restaurants. I won’t gush with details about our time there, but there is plenty to rave about. I was also really ready and excited to get on the river!!
The first day on the South Fork of the American was just Davide and me. Such a great day! Fun river, friendly rapids and an opportunity to paddle something new. The second day I ran sweep for his whitewater SUP class. I always learn a ton when seeing others instruct, and I’m really impressed with Davide. He’s an awesome paddler, teacher and all-round great guy. I’ll be hitting him up to do some other trips in the future for sure. Soca 2025? A gooooood possibility. He also leads SUP trips on the Pacuare in Costa Rica, Tara river in Montenegro and the Rogue.
I chose to stay local in August because I knew I’d be leaving for much of September and October. I wanted to paddle the McKenzie and Santiam rivers which I truly love. I had a chance to paddle with old friends, and also make new ones, hitting both locations multiple times over the last couple months. Regardless of who I’m paddling with, I never seem to tire of these two beautiful stretches. Now the fall is winding down and the snow is starting to fly which means I’ll paddle way less and focus on winter play, but I’ll still sneak a paddle in when I can.
SUP on Tahoe… Ok, it’s not a river, but I had such a great time with this crew of people it book-ended my water travel for the summer well. My mentor Steve Scherrer and I flew out to Tahoe, via Reno to certify a group of employees and volunteers with Achieve Tahoe (an organization similar to Oregon’s OAS). Achieve works with adaptive folks all seasons of the year but has a strong presence on the lake…kinda for obvious reasons. Tahoe is beautiful and accessible, and it had been decades since I’d been there so I was excited to see the lake and meet these incredible people. They didn’t disappoint.
Because this was an ACA certification course, we were homestay’ed at one of the volunteer’s homes just 4 minutes from Alpine Meadows–gorgeous. The couple that hosted us were super people (and both gourmet cooks/bakers which didn’t suck either…home-baked sourdough bread and macaroons as two glaring examples!!!). They really went above and beyond to make our visit awesome. We were out of the house every morning by 7:30am to be at our meeting spot by 8am with at least a couple of the Achieve team already setting up. Because their group had worked together for years they had an existing dynamic, based in compassion, support and strong communication skills. They’re all teachers themselves so they “got it”. I’ve never worked in a cert course, with a group of people like them. Really fun–energetic and engaged. Tuning up their SUP skills was simple too as they were athletes. I look forward to going back this spring when they do their next cert.
So that wraps up a few of the summer highlights. What jumps out when writing this post is the profound impact people have on our experiences. From all different walks of life, views, and backgrounds. I had a lot of really fun adventures…admittedly an incredible summer. I’m so fortunate! Yet it’s the people that stand out when I think back. In this time of what I can only think of as “separation” I hope that people can put aside the negativity and look toward what is similar in us, and not what our differences are.
Thanks for listening…see ya out there on the frisky ripples!!
In case you missed this in the blog description, I write mostly about finding stoke doing those things that excite and inspire, at a level that challenges YOU! Not your Olympian friend or pro-athlete down the street (a common occurrence if you live in Bend). I love rivers, mountains and wilderness in general. Nature calls to me, and if I’m not out in it for even a few minutes daily, things start to go a little wonky in my head. I might not be paddling Class V rapids or heli-skiing but any time we venture out, there is a chance for things to go sideways. I’ve had my share of crashes and splashes resulting in injuries and wounds to varying degrees. This is why I found myself recertifying my Wilderness First Aid and CPR over the last few weeks, for the jillionth time. That, and I guide/coach people weekly who I might need to help should something go wrong (and it’s been my experience it’s a “when” rather than “if” situation).
First Aid/CPR certification courses are great to bring top-of-mind awareness and it’s easily forgotten after a few months, let alone years. They can be booooooring in your typical classroom with “textbook” lectures and splint-setting. What I did last month was distinctly different, working with a guy who had trained our team a couple times over the last decade. It was his approach that I remembered when considering who to train our TC staff and myself this year. Serious, funny, wicked-smart and practical.
Because I needed to expedite my recertification for other certifications not to lapse, I chose the unique opportunity to work one-on-one with this guy–an expert in his field. Not someone trained to train (although he is), but someone who is in the field himself witnessing and leading all sorts of rescue and trauma-relief situations. Someone who cuts through the bullshit and does what is most effective in real-life events, like addressing a massive hemorrhage before airway, as taught in our ABC’s because the major blood-loss would result in no oxygen anyway. Yikes-major stuff! Sidenote, if the term ABC’s is completely foreign to you, consider a first aid course. You never know when walking down the street you’ll confront an emergency. I have been the first responder to more than a couple “randoms” in my life and it was nice to feel at least, partly capable!
Back in “the warehouse” (the base camp for his team that ends up deploying all over the world, and headquarters for instruction) I had the opportunity to relearn first aid skills in a unique way. Most poignant, a femoral wound that I needed to pack with veeeeeery realistic fake, warm, viscous “blood” spurting…yes, spurting. Holy cats! Not the online learning we get through various other programs. I feel fortunate to have had this experience and will be going back to work on more realistic scenarios.
Not all that goes wrong in life is so “bloody” or dramatic. In prior posts I’ve talked about life changes and schedule changes and reservation misses. Most recently a friend ventured on a solo trip. Logistics were considered, hotel booked, and Uber app updated. Except the Uber app didn’t work. I’ve had this happen to me too, whether a bad connection or…who knows? She chose to walk herself and her luggage about 1.5 miles (uphill through a questionable neighborhood) to her hotel. She arrived tired and exhausted… but got there. Something to complain about? Perhaps, but instead she gained confidence and felt empowered by proving to herself she could do it. In fact, all of the small “mistakes” along the way were met with logic and considered an opportunity to remember her capabilities. I’d dare say the challenges that were overcome made her trip!
For myself, this last year I’ve rediscovered singlehood and been reminded how resilient we are as autonomous beings. I’ve found after a life of being with a partner and then without, that my brain “switches”, knowing I’ve got just myself to depend on. From travel to personal emergencies to household tasks, I know I have myself and I can typically handle it–and I take full responsibility. Most times, I rise to the occasion quite well (and if I “miss” there’s no one there to point it out! Ha!)
Things can certainly go wrong. Always, my heart goes out to those people experiencing natural disasters/warfare that cause utter destruction and loss. For our more mundane challenges I suggest looking at the opportunities you might find in the experience–the silver linings. As I’ve said before, we’re all between swims. Crawl back on your board, or into your boat, reset and paddle on (literally or figuratively).
Thanks for listening…see ya out there on the frisky ripples!
I’ve dealt with body pain–particularly back and neck pain for most of my adult life having been a competitive gymnast as a kid, and then continued to do the things that tear our bodies down. I’d grown accustomed to living at a basic level of pain, perhaps a “2” on the ubiquitous 10-point scale. However, the pain and/or numbness was increasing, making it difficult to do all the things I love let alone sit and drive for more than ten minutes. This was additionally discouraging considering the fact that I was already seeing a PT and massage therapist. Oiy. When a friend recommended I try a new PT it was with a little disbelief that anyone could help, since I’ve seen many different people in the last decade. However, I made the phone call and began working with this new guy, rumored to be “magical”. Our first assessment was…well let’s say “thorough”. His feedback to me was “wow, you’re really messed up”. I was in further doubt when, after all the evaluating he did just a couple of adjustments and gave me a single exercise. One.
The second visit he adjusted a ton of stuff. And then warned me I might be “off” for a week or so. He wasn’t wrong. The next morning I woke to a weird feeling–NO pain. I didn’t have burning at the top of my hamstrings/ass. When I sat in a chair I felt both butt cheeks sitting symmetrically. And, when I skied my left leg actually responded. I hadn’t realized that my body was so wonky or how much I was compensating, or for that matter, what “pain-free” feels like. The challenging part was that I was (and am) still learning to move functionally again. The new body mechanics has completely thrown me off. Walking, dancing, skiing, paddling–all feel foreign. A little awkward. In fact, with the targeted exercises to build my left leg muscles, I’m frequently like Bambi on ice navigating what was totally automatic. This was very obvious when I swam in an easy rapid I’ve “cleaned” soooo many times simply by weighting my upstream leg (unexpectedly) too much and flipping my nose up…and me in the water!…wait, what?…that leg responds with equal force?! Aside from some of the crashes…yes, I fell xc skiing the other day too…it’s all a very positive thing. To move functionally and healthfully is such a gift and one I don’t take for granted. I have many friends right now who are healing from or waiting for knee surgery (my MCL tear was what instigated this blog so many years ago) and it’s such a challenging and painful space to be. Extreme gratitude for my moving body.
Perhaps perfectly aligned with this physical readjustment is an emotional and lifestyle evolution. After many years of living in a set pattern I’ve been doing a lot of self-work. A decade ago I was very focused on meditation and self-actualization. Life got very full and this work largely fell off the map. Now, I’m again learning how to live with intention toward my goals–personal and professional–and it has been transformational. I’m being honest with myself about who I am, who I WANT to be and the space between those points. It’s typically three steps forward, one step back, but I’m chipping away at the areas of “needs improvement” and utilizing an organized point program, created with the help of my sis, to keep my learning at top-of-mind awareness. One of the biggest steps is living in the moment, quieting the “monkey mind” and slowing down. Simplifying. Imposing boycotts for devices and in some circumstances avoiding those situations that invite negativity or gas-lighting to my environment. At least in the moment—ultimately I believe that to truly free yourself from scary or difficult things, you must process and deal with them. I feel like I’m re-learning (or maybe unlearning?) patterns I’ve been living for a long time. It’s fun and rewarding work!
** Appendix to this post… the day after writing the previous paragraphs, I paddled the stretch, for the first time since July, Mill City to the Park, on the North Santiam. It’s the stretch I paddled most when I was learning to whitewater SUP and was essentially in Gates/Mill City 3-4 days most weeks. It had been a run I’d paddled less and less, mostly choosing the Packsaddle stretch upstream for the past several years except when I felt “off” or recovering from sickness or injury or bringing newer paddlers down the river. I was paddling with a friend who was kayaking for the first time post-knee surgery. For me it felt good to be home.
So there you go! Sue Fox working on the 2.0 version!! Complete with a few more wrinkles, couple more gray hairs, and seemingly a lot more energy than I’ve had in a decade to tackle the next adventure. Whatever that might be.
My trip to La Ventana took on many iterations before execution. It began with the intent of me going down there with a few of my guy buddies–all mutual friends to enjoy the sand and surf (at nearby Todos Santos/El Cerritos), base-camping from my boss’s newly purchased house. The original plan didn’t pan out. And then a girlfriend and I were going to go for a couple weeks and literally two days after buying the tickets she tore her meniscus. The details aren’t really important but what DID happen was that I was presented with a two-week trip, much of which solo, in a town where kiting/winging is the primary attraction. Spoiler alert, I’m neither. What it did create was a “self-retreat” that I didn’t know I deeply needed. I’ve been hosting retreats for a decade and a half for other people, with varying degrees of self-development and exploration as its focus. But for myself, no. What transpired was nothing short of transformative, and at the core of this adventure was the wonderful, beautiful, soul-nourishing ocean which at the risk of sounding totally woo-woo, is the womb of the earth for me, and like a “coming home”.
For me, this vacation really began the day before I left for Mexico, with a reunion of sorts, with longtime friends from undergrad. It doesn’t matter how long we go without seeing each other because we’ve known each other so long, and shared so much, that the laughs and heartfelt catching-up is natural and free-flowing as if we were still sitting down at Taylors on 13th enjoying a beer (or 3). I share this because I boarded the plane the next day with such a sense of joy and groundedness. The flight and customs easy, and the shuttle from the airport long but simple, I arrived in the dark having bought for dinner/breakfast whatever I could grab in 5 minutes from a mini-mart about a mile from the house.
The first day was spent doing mostly nothing! Sidenote: those who know me, know I don’t stay still for long. I thrive in action and activity, at times to my own detriment. In this wonderful space, all alone, with no access to the van (yet) or bike (yet) or anyone to answer to, meet up with, appointments etc, I simply lazed into the day. Slept in! Poked around figuring out the nuances of the house…where’s the water? Here’s the French press to make my coffee. The book I’d brought for the trip was missing about 50 pages starting at page 38. As if the universe was making an extra effort to provide, one of the rooms had a shelf of books including a Bill Bryson book I’d wanted to read and a second book “Inward” which is a reflective book on one’s emotional self. I began each day by opening it at random and letting the message guide me. I love music and I’d decided I would explore a completely new genre and after several “no go’s” I landed on African Drum/Lounge Music which was PERFECT.
After hours and hours of doing “nothing” I jumped in the ocean for a swim. This was fantastic. Having lived in Maui for years it was an experience I was spoiled with and didn’t realize how much I missed. Post swim, I took my time but eventually made it out the gate and began the walk to town to explore. I took a small, light-weight backpack and my phone/wallet walking the dirt road which eventually turns to pavement. Hitch-hiking is really easy in this town and I accepted a ride to the north end of town-proper, but walked the town from there… about 6 miles round trip that day. I checked out whatever grabbed my attention. Drank a smoothie. Got basic details on mountain bike rentals, going rate for massages. On the way back, hitched another ride from a kite instructor, making my first new friend. The cool thing about traveling alone is that you make friends easier. It just IS.
Day two, much of the same. Except for one big exception…as I walked onto the beach right outside the house, I ran into a woman who I thought was the woman staying in the upper house. It was not, but turned out to be a Canadian woman from Fernie who knew an old friend of mine from grad school. She invited me to join she and a crew that were going biking that late afternoon in the south trails. By now I’d scored a mountain bike and I said “hell ya!” This began a really fun series of activities from bike rides to dinners, salsa dancing and drinks. What a fun group of people and I’d have to say Canadians are about the easiest people to like.
With that said, I still had an abundance of alone time. Each morning after my slow start, I’d paddle the SUP downwind and back up checking out the AMAZING fish and marine life the Sea of Cortez is known for. I can say, without question, it’s the best experience I’ve had for this, and that includes living in Hawaii for three years. Humpbacks, dolphins and Mobula rays plus so so so many incredible fish. There were times when I thought “where are the camera crews?! Is someone getting this?” because it was straight out of some NOVA special. And then I’d swim and snorkel.
There are moments in my life that I remember with extreme clarity. One such moment was the morning I sat on my paddleboard, post surf session, staring at the west Maui mountains and knew I needed to move off island because it was “time”. Another of those moments happened a few weeks ago on this trip, swimming in the Sea of Cortez right out the door of Geoff’s house. Staring out at Carvello island (now named Cousteau island) I knew with every fiber of my being that all the changes in my life over the past 6 months were true and right and the best for me and my path forward. All of them. I’ve led a life of wanderlust, and while I’ve lived in Bend for longer than I’ve lived anywhere in my adult life, I made the decision a long time ago to live a somewhat “non-traditional” life. I don’t have the family and picket fence (and what that all represents) but what I crave in my life at this time, is to have and grow my community and to explore the world, experiencing adventures along the way (which are not always easy or positive) but ARE character-building and self-expanding.
The rest of the trip was fabulously fun. I saw old friends, hung with new friends and my boss/buddy/house-owner showed up and knows everyone which was fun too. I’m grateful for ALL of it. For me, La Ventana–translated “The Window” truly was a window for me to view my path forward with clarity. The details are still taking shape slowly. But one thing’s for sure…it will include more trips to Mexico!
Thanks for listening and I’ll see ya out there on the frisky ripples….river, oceans, lakes or trails!
I don’t spend a lot of time in “if onlys” or “what ifs”. Life unfolds the way it should, based on a million different decisions, actions and behaviors. This has been a roller-coaster decade for me personally, full of SO many incredibly wonderful experiences. And some pretty shitty ones. I’m not alone…everyone has their share of suck. I’ve watched family and friends battle disease (some overcoming it and some not) and tragic accidents that have upended families, impacting them with the worst outcomes. It’s cliche but what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger…and hopefully more positive. There have been thousands of books written on positivity, moving cheese?! (haha…change) and living life in the present. Here’s just one more blog if you didn’t get enough!
My sis and I have been focusing a lot on change and how to intentionally craft the life you want. We began communicating about it almost daily, over a year ago when she was diagnosed with cancer for the second time. Literally the very next day she set about making change and DOING. Doing the things that made her happy and fulfilled. She also was extremely helpful and generous with her time…most notably to my mom who was going through, as it turned out, a life-threatening condition resulting in major surgery and a lengthy recovery. The tenacity with which my sister has stuck to her “new life” is quite inspiring. I treasure our daily emails and texts, supporting each other and looking forward to many many exciting changes.
Additionally, we’ve been talking about “mindfulness”. There are a lot of different practitioners that use buzz phrases..Power of Now, Radical Acceptance, How to not give a F&$k (a more “hip” and sexier branding)…it’s all essentially the same thing we’ve been studying for years. The concept is extraordinarily simple, yet very very difficult to do. It’s this…put down your damn devices, stop multi-tasking, get out of your head and BE with wherever you are. Use your senses (touch, taste, smell, sound, and sight) to perceive the moment. Talk WITH the person you’re communicating with (not thinking about a million other things while doing it). And for God sake…and this is a big one…stop worrying. Have you ever considered what worrying does for you? Not a damn thing. Not ONE DAMN THING. Except stress you out, make you anxious, mess with your sleep, and annoy the crap out of your friends and family talking endlessly about negativity and fear.
Let’s be clear…that doesn’t mean hard things don’t happen. It’s just how we move through the events. Everyone deals with trauma differently–some let it define them, place blame or act harshly to the world around them (no finger pointing or judgement). Others, move through, feeling the “feels” but doing okay, and yet others acknowledge, accept and perhaps even internalize the event as a learning opportunity for personal growth and compassion. But one thing is a truth…worrying won’t change or affect anything.
As the glittery lights and holiday parties wind down this year, and we’re left with the gray winter (and apparently no snow here in central Oregon anyway…oiy!) maybe consider picking up one of these books about mindfulness–or listening to a podcast if that’s your jam. You have nothing to lose! …except maybe a whole lot of worrying!
Thanks for listening! See ya out there on the frisky ripples….
Frisky Ripples 