The Road Less Traveled

There is nothing quite as inspiring to me as watching someone choose to take the road less traveled.

The road less traveled is the one that when facing the difficult and painful challenges that life throws in every one of our paths at one time or another, leads them through the difficulty rather than skirting around it.

The road less traveled is the one that while every step may be painful, is the only one that leads to healing and transformation.

The road less traveled is the one that calls upon our courage to keep going in spite of our fear.

Tempting thought it may be to take the well-worn easier route, the road less traveled is always worth the trip.

Always.

Pixabay

Yes Or No?

Sometimes it takes more courage to say no than to say yes.

Photo by Matt Hardy from Pexels

Beginner’s Luck

Getting onto the boat, I might have looked like I knew what I was doing, decked out in my Field and Stream waders and King’s Camo fleece. But as we all know, looks can be deceiving. Floating down the river after a few basic instructions about fly fishing, it was obvious that I was a beginner. I looked like one and felt like one, because I was one. Our guide was a wonderful teacher, and when I told him that I didn’t know the first thing about casting or landing the ever-illusive Steelhead, he said Being a beginner is the best. That’s when you learn the most in the shortest amount of time.

The older I get the easier it is to forget how to be a beginner. I’ve learned a lot in my 66 years and hopefully put much of what I’ve gleaned to good use, but it is good to remember that it is never too late to be a beginner. To admit that we don’t know the first thing about something, but are ready to learn. To be willing to look silly, make mistakes, laugh at ourselves, and keep trying.

While I didn’t catch a fish, I was lucky enough to spend two days on the river remembering how good it feels to be a beginner.

Lucky to be a beginner on the Klickitat River with The Evening Hatch Fly Fishing Guide Service

Life Decisions

Some days I listen in to The Next Right Thing Podcast with Emily P. Freeman. She introduces it the same way every Tuesday by reminding her listeners that while it is a podcast about making decisions, it is also a podcast about making a life.

Those few words inspire me every time, and are a reminder that the decisions we make create the life we have.

Walking The Refuge

We took the dogs and headed out to the Conboy Wildlife Refuge. It was cold, and sunny, and the contrast of the brilliant yellow-gold tamarack trees with their nearby neighbors, the lodgepole and ponderosa pines could not be more stark.

Once on the three-mile loop trail, we talked about things big and small as the dogs raced ahead, always coming back to check on us. From the viewing platform at the half-way point, it was obvious that fall was giving way to the coming winter, which in turn could only mean the eventual coming of spring and the appearance of new growth. New growth that is only made possible by the death and dropping away of this year’s growth.

Walking the refuge loop trail is always a reminder that life is a series of new beginnings, leading to eventual endings, only to come upon new beginnings once again. It is also a reminder of the need we have as human beings to find refuge from our personal storms with a select few sacred souls. Those who will walk with us as what has been drops away in order to make way for what can be.

Stacking The Firewood

Our yearly supply of firewood just got delivered. Two-and-a-half cords of beautiful dry wood landed on our driveway, ready to be stacked under cover for use in the coming winter months. One of my favorite chores every year is to work together with Tom to stack the wood. Piece by piece the pile that sits in chaotic disorder turns into neatly stacked rows, and we are ready for winter once again. While we are not dependent on it to heat our home, it is an integral part of how we live, and we count on it to fuel life under our roof.

This delivery and stacking of the firewood is an annual occurrence, and turning that jumbled pile into orderly rows is a reminder that our lives unfold in much the same way. Something gets dumped into our lives, and suddenly we find ourselves in disarray. Like the firewood, it is ours to figure out how to put into order what has landed on our doorstep.

As hard as it is to have the unexpected show up, if we treat it like a load of firewood, and piece by piece put it into order, It can become an integral part of who we are, and fuel the lives we are here to live.

Fifteen Minutes

“I have fifteen minutes, and I’d love to spend them with you.” The voice on the other end of the phone belonged to a close friend who was in the midst of his own busy day, and yet was able to find a small window of time for us to connect. A small window was all I needed.

What I was searching for in those fifteen precious minutes was a safe space to say exactly what I wanted to say, unfiltered. I was in need of a place to be heard and seen, and to be able to feel exactly what I was feeling with no attempt made to fix, mollify, or find a silver lining. In that moment there was none to find.

For fifteen minutes he listened, and listened, and listened some more. Safely within the emotional equivalent of a soundproof, padded room, I was able to hear myself speak, and express deep emotions that needed to come out. Those fifteen minutes made it possible to handle the next fifteen. And the next and the next and the next.

We are all in need of safe spaces in which we can show up live and uncensored. Places where we can say what is true in that moment even when what is true is messy, ugly, and broken. It is from there that that we can find our way forward to deal with the mess, discover beauty in our ability to handle what we’ve been handed, and catch a glimpse of how we might put our broken selves back together again. Not put back together as before, but in new ways. Better ways. Stronger, more authentic, and courageous ways. Ways that begin with the gift of fifteen minutes with someone who’d love to spend them with us.

Like A Hawk

In front of our home there is an expanse of open field that stretches out toward the mountain. Trees are scattered around the perimeter, and on any given day It is likely that you will find one of the many hawks that call our little valley home perched on the top of one of those trees. From that vantage point they are able to scan the entire field for possible prey. These sharp eyed birds don’t spend all of their time on a tree top, nor do they endlessly fly about in search of their next meal. They seem to know that in order to survive, it is necessary to get a good look at the bigger picture before heading out to do what hawks do.

When it comes to us humans, we could take a lesson from these birds of prey. It is easy to get so caught up in our daily rounds that we forget to take time to pull back and get the big picture view. We simply go and do. Go and do. And, go and do some more.

Any free space on our calendars gets filled by the next request, because rather than pause and head to a nearby treetop, we swoop in on the date and time, and if it’s open, we let the next commitment snatch it up. Simply doing something because we can isn’t necessarily a reason to do it.

If we want to spend our days and expend our energy on who and what we value, we have to learn to pull back and get a hawk’s-eye view of the field that is our life.

Photo by Harrison Haines from Pexels

The Halloween Party

“My goal” he said, “is come this fall, I want to want to invite you to our annual Halloween party”. At the time we were sitting with Bob, our potential builder, in his kitchen. Over cups of coffee, we poured over our plans and talked about the ins and outs of building the home we envisioned. By the end of our time around that kitchen table, we sensed that we’d found the guy for us.

We’d met with other builders to get estimates for our project, and to a person, they were first and foremost, all about the money. Don’t get me wrong. When it comes to building a home, money matters…to everyone. However, other things matter too. Like honesty, trust, respect, and a shared commitment to the end goal. In other words, in working together, we weren’t just building a home. We were building a relationship too.

Having talked to numerous people since embarking on this adventure, most people who have a home built for them don’t usually end up with the kind of friendship that we have with Bob. In fact, in the spirit of Halloween, I’ve heard far more horror stories than ones with a happy ending.

Sure there were snafus along the way, and sometimes writing those checks took my breath away. But there were no tricks, and plenty of treats along the way, and none of us ever lost sight of the end goal. A home we loved, and finding ourselves at the next Halloween party.

The first year we went as a homeless couple with signs around our neck that read Will work for house. The next year we simply turned the signs over to read Will work for mortgage. Which, by the way, has been worth every penny!

It’s been over 12 years since that first morning around Bob’s kitchen table, and tonight we are looking forward to another great Halloween party in their home. No costumes required. Kind of like our friendship.

Pixabay on Pexels.com

New Shoes

Most pilgrims who walk the Camino de Santiago end their journey at the Santiago de Compostela cathedral, often celebrating the mid-day Pilgrim Mass. Others however continue on to the fishing town of Finisterre. There it has been the custom for many to *burn their hiking shoes as a final act of their pilgrimage.

Those hiking shoes, probably well-worn, have served their purpose, having gotten them to “the end of the world”, and now they will need new shoes to take them wherever their road leads in the future.

Life is a continual act of letting go of what might have once served us, but no longer does. Of burning away the old in order to make way for the new. Of unpacking our bags and taking stock of what we carry, and repacking with the essentials necessary for the next leg of our trip. Of practicing new skills and putting old ones to rest. Of burning our old shoes and breaking in new ones.

Whatever it is that got us here will not get us where we are going.

(*this practice has attracted much criticism due to the obvious environmental impacts and safety implication.)

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