Nature's Fireworks

The kids and I hiked the Alpine Loop in the American Fork Canyon
before a storm arrived this week, threatening to drop the leaves.

After crossing three forests, we found lots of aspens
surrounding a meadow, quivering their joyous welcome.

We call this aspen grove the Golden Palace,
because standing in it,
you are bathed in a shimmering golden light.

We passed mountain bikers and riders on horseback
but no deer or quail this time.

In late spring, this meadow is yellow with wildflowers

and the aspens are freshly green.

Now that the storm is here bringing an early snow
to the mountains with high winds,
the leaves are probably littering the ground,
the aspens no longer quivering their welcome,
but shivering in their nakedness.
Until next Spring.

And leaving us with...
peace.

Finding The Quiet

Credit: Photo courtesy of Aaron Penn, photographer
There are many ways to experience one's connectedness with God. The search takes you outside and eventually leads you inside. One of my most memorable church experiences of that connection was while serving as a young women's counselor while in the LDS faith as one of several stepping stones on my path to finding God.

We were at a summer camp in the pine mountains of Arizona. We held a Sunday service in a clearing in the woods reserved for spiritual gatherings. Sitting on bleachers listening to the speaker, the sun sent illuminating rays through the trees. The slight rustling of the leaves in the breeze, birds singing their own celebration of life, and an abiding peacefulness settled in my being. I felt an aliveness and deep oneness with God. Even now there is an inner cleansing, an inner exhale, whenever I re-live that moment.

It reminds me of an earlier spiritual experience while living in Germany, spending Christmas with extended family in a small town called Selbitz. On Christmas Eve we would walk to a church in the town for a sort of midnight mass. My mother was raised Lutheran, my father Methodist, and my Grandmother was a reformed Catholic living as a Jehovah's Witness. There was something about being there, with other people wanting to experience something extraordinary, and I felt a shared connectedness. I remember how it felt to watch the procession celebrating Christ's entrance into our world, and how warm and full of light the church was. Walking home afterwards, snow falling under a cold, dark sky sparkling with light reflecting off snowflakes and lamp posts, the quiet conversations around us enveloped me in a blanket of peace that resonated on a deep, deep level.

From those earlier experiences I realize why I often find myself in the mountains today, surrounded by quivering aspen leaves, under bright blue skies and the sounds of the forest. It is there where I finally hear myself, where I feel loved and accepted, and close to something greater than my insecure self; something strong and loving and kind. It is where I go to connect with my idea of God, a benevolence that strengthens.

There is a Benedictine monk, David Steindl Rast, who shares his love for God and life, and us, through a website called www.gratefulness.org. Brother David is a vibrant living example of humble humor. He makes me want to go inside, find the best of me, and offer it to the world. He inspires me to ask, "What do I have left to give?"

Here is his gentle prayer on gratitude:


And leaves me with a sense of...

Honest Scrap Award

Linda over at wandertothewayside.blogspot. com presented (drum roll) me with an award for writing from the heart. She is also a fellow writer-from-the-heart, so if you haven't read her blog before, check it out before you leave.

Thank you Linda! You are my first (and only) blog award and have set me to jumping around the house for joy. Now I get to pass the award on to seven more bloggers who write heartfelt prose, and then list ten honest things about myself.

So here's a shout out to some bloggers that tickle my heartstrings:

• Anna at http://nature-trail.blogspot.com/
• Jane at http://janefay.blogspot.com/
• Alicia at http://rosylittlethings.typepad.com/posie_gets_cozy/
• ZombieMom (my name for her) at http://www.mom-zombie.com/
• Angela at http://rawreform.blogspot.com/
• Toni at http://www.reclaimingmyfuture.com/
• Lee at http://l2l-lemons2lemonade.blogspot.com/

Now here's the part you can roll your eyes or scratch your head over:

1) Born cross-eyed, I had surgery and sported an eye patch for awhile but still have nystagmus—the involuntary rapid oscillatory motion of the eyeballs. I don’t normally notice it, and others don’t usually…but there are times. Nystagmus can make your eyes shake up or down, but mine do it rotating. An ophthalmologist once told me it was caused by one of three things; albinism, head injury, or brain damage. You figure it out...

2) I was once kidnapped, briefly. My father served in the U.S. Air Force and we were for a time stationed in Taipei, Taiwan. One day, around age three, I was playing on the swingset in our front yard while my parents watched from the kitchen window. They must have gotten distracted because one minute I was there, the next, gone. When my father ran outside, he saw me running down the street with two older Taiwanese girls on either side, holding my hands. They were finally stopped when they ran past the guards outside Chiang Kai-shek’s building. They stopped us because my father was yelling as he was chasing us. Fun times.

3) While living in Florida we often visited my father’s family in rural Georgia for Thanksgiving. My older sister and I liked to take walks around the countryside. One day we meandered past a farm, accompanied by a cousin and a neighboring German Shepherd who had befriended us on an earlier visit. As the four of us were passing the farm, we were spotted by a large, unpenned pig that decided for whatever reason he didn’t like our looks. Suddenly the pig came charging after us, trailed by his posse of Chihuahuas that were hanging out with him. We weren’t looking for a fight so we turned and ran (since our cream-puff German Shepherd chose not to defend us). Too bad some farmer didn’t come along then because we must have been quite a sight. Three frightened children, a goofy German Shepherd, an irate pig and several outraged Chihuahas, running down a dirt road as if Satan himself was behind us. We managed to outrun the pig-Chihuaha team because apparently pigs tire easily. Folks, you just can’t make this stuff up.

4) I once spent the night (camping in my car) in the company of many other strangers, on the grounds near Cape Canaveral for a Space Shuttle launch. When that baby lifted off, the deafening noise and mushrooming clouds coming towards us and the ensuing goosebumps tingling all over my body signaled one of the proudest, most exhilarating moments of my life as an American.

5) I participated in some self-improvement intensives during my marriage years. My then husband, our teenage daughter and I attended Peak Potentials Training camps where I learned to face my fears. A few years later I attended Byron Katie’s nine day School For The Work where I learned that there is nothing to fear.

6) I love animals and have raised a variety of pets: two finches, a small garden snake, generations of gerbils, four parakeets, various goldfish, two cats, a turtle, an iguana, a dog, and butterflies (a homeschool project). Currently petless-in-Utah, I yearn for a time when I’ll live in a cottage with a cat surrounded by birds and butterflies (yeah, I'm all about the simple things).

7) My office walls (currently in my closet--it’s large, though windowless) are decorated with large scenic beach posters. Time to save for that Fiji vacation…

8) The time I felt healthiest was the year I lived on raw foods, green smoothies, and juices. I loved how living in my skin felt then. Looked good too.

9) Quirk: I can’t stand having anything in the wastebaskets around the house. So I empty them if there are two or more items lounging in there, rendering them fairly pointless. Along those lines, I also don’t keep magazines past a day. I read them, clip out photos/articles and then pass them on. Or throw them away. In the wastebaskets. Which I then empty.

10) Whether stargazing in solitude when my oldest left home, or driving in the mountains when my marriage was at its rockiest, nature has been my come-back-to-center balm.

So thank you Linda, for the award, and thank all you wonderful bloggers who write from honestly from your heart. If you can't get the award let me know and I'll pass on the directions.

The Wide Open Heart

A little over one year ago, I witnessed the birth (as best as you can outside a hospital delivery room door) of my first grandchild. Samuel James was brought into this world only to leave too soon with his adoptive parents. His birth parents, two good-hearted teens dealing with the tumult life sometimes brings, chose to place their little boy with an equally good-hearted couple who had been yearning to adopt for some time.

The day Sammy came was one of the giddiest highlights of my midlife, my heart so open it felt close to bursting. The day after, or rather, the evening of the day before Placement Day, was the hardest thing I'd ever experienced. Not the death of a marriage, not raising kids as a single mom, not an early miscarriage between my first two children, not kidney stones, not job loss; but the giving up of a child--my birth grandchild. On that day I learned that a heart could keep beating after shattering to bits.

You fall in love on day one and still in love, must say goodbye. So far the sadness has been staunched because his new parents, embracing an open adoption, have kept up a blog with photos and an occasional get together (I've seen and held Sammy twice since he was born; Christmas and his blessing day).

It is one of the sweetest experiences, and still, there is a sadness that lingers in a corner of my heart. Do I wish things were different? Daily. Would I try to change it if I could? No; the bond between Sammy and his new parents is set.

I've come to a place of gratitude for the sacrifices made. The birth mother, and my son, who gave up someone they loved. The adoptive parents, who gave up their privacy to allow our family into their lives. Sammy's birth relatives, especially his birth father's siblings, who want to so much to keep in touch with their nephew.

What touches me most about that day when Sammy was born, was watching his 16-year old father protectively follow him and his nurse down to the neonatal observation room (that's what I call it; don't know what it really is) and for the next hour and a half, keep his hand on his naked son as he lay in the bassinet being observed for vitals. The tears that trickled down his face, the exhaustion from the long birth night and the emotions of the weeks and months before. The way his large hand cupped around his son, the love he was giving him while he could. I'd never witnessed this side of my boy, and it moved me beyond tears.

On Placement Day I was driving with my youngest daughter, tears streaming down my face, and she said something to me I will never forget; with wisdom beyond her years, "Mom, just remember, this may be the worst day you've ever had, but it's also the happiest day Emma and James have ever had." Just that unexpected turn of phrase, the circumstances seen in that light, opened up a crack in the clouds and let some rays shine through. It lightened my grieving heart with the possibility that this family would love this baby boy with all their heart.

And so it seems to have become. The times I've seen Sammy with them, he's happy and devoted and completely trusting. And so are they. It's remarkable really, the love an infant brings into this world. The power to open hearts. And that's what this experience has left me with. The desire to keep my heart open no matter what shows up to break it. Because despite the pain and sadness I would not trade this experience for the world. It has been worth every moment, just to get to know Sammy, his birth mother, my son in unexpected ways, and Sammy's new family.

So thank you God, for bringing Sammy into this world to share with so many. Thank you Sammy, for being your amazing self, thank you Jaycee and Jason for loving this baby more than yourselves, and thank you Emma and James for your love and generosity.



Names have been changed for privacy reasons.
Credit: Photo courtesy of emmasheart.com/shop/images/footprint.png

Merrily On Our Way To Nowhere In Particular

Growing up in Florida, Walt Disney World was a prominent fixture of my youth. Our family visited the day the Magic Kingdom theme park opened their doors on October 1, 1971--a particularly easy time to enjoy rides because as I remember it, there were bomb threats so some folks stayed home. Lucky us. The lines were never shorter than on this bright fall Florida day...

Besides my favorite E-ticket rides (those of you old enough will remember those) I loved Mr. Toad's Wild Ride. Climbing aboard that funky car, heading off into the cool dark of the tunnel was a welcome respite from the sweltering summer days when we would re-visit the park in years to come.

I recently discovered that Disney World replaced Mr. Toad with Winnie the Pooh (as if we really need more of that rotund bear assaulting our senses). WINNIE THE POOH, for God's sake. My disappointment knows no bounds, but at least you can still visit Mr. Toad at the Disneyland park in Anaheim, California.

Lately life seems suspiciously similar to Mr. Toad's Wild ride, complete with twists and turns (and welcome respites) and loads of charming scenery. You just never know what's going to come at you next. But the entire time, you are safely strapped in a supportive vehicle riding on pre-determined tracks, so you are usually never really in any danger...unless of something happens to the ride itself.

Which reminds me of the time we took the kids to Disneyland and it was late at night when the older kids and their dad were on Big Thunder Mountain. The ride was halted for some reason, so they were temporarily stranded in the dark, and it was scary (there was screaming). But of course, when it was all over that unexpected delay actually contributed to the thrill factor. Go figure.

It reminds me of the Florida summer when relatives from Germany visited back in the 70's, and we were stranded at Bush Gardens, Tampa on an aerial gondola ride, high above the wild animals grazing below, for about half an hour of anxious sweating. Mutti--as we called my German grandmother--kept her cool by dabbing a cold, wet rag she pulled from a Ziploc-style bag of ice onto her wrists, presumably just for such emergencies. It was rather thrilling wondering what would happen if we plummeted onto the rhinos below. Would the fall kill us (likely)? Would the animals stampede and kill us? Would the heat do us in before the ride resumed? Seems the mind loves its drama.

And that is probably why Mr. Toad's Wild Ride remains one of my favorites -- the drama that never actually swallows you up. Which makes it an awful lot like Life.



Credit: photo courtesy of www.mouseplanet. com/guide

Scarier Than A Halloween Night

It...finally...happened.

The dreaded first day of the kids going back to school.

Relief at surviving their exodus couples with pangs of missing them and the winds of change that always blow this time of year.

I was lucky; not everyone gets to spend their summer with their kids without leaving for work every day, and for that I am deeply grateful but now it's back to looking-for-a-new career season.

And it's scarier than Halloween.

But, it's also kind of exhilarating in a roller-coaster way, and maybe after I get past the cold-sweats aspect of it, it'll actually be fun.

Let's hope. Then maybe I can find some...

August Summer Days

So the countdown has officially begun and my anxiety level is skyrocketing. Every time I hit a store now it's filled with back-to-schoolers, harried moms with even more harried kids trying to get ready for that moment when the alarm goes off the first day of school. Okay, maybe some moms are deliriously happy to have that block of free time when the house is empty, and maybe some kids are bored from too much playtime with friends, but as a working mom, school responsibilities just eat up more of my day.

What happened to school starting September 1st, or at least, after Labor Day? Here in Utah, when they aren't in year-round-schools, we have this silly August start-up, which I really can't wrap my weary brain around. August is HOT people, and nobody here really wants to dress in anything other than shorts and skimpy tees. Well, I take that back, it is Utah after all, so there might have to be long camisoles layered under the skimpy t-shirts, but still.

I don't want to schlepp the kids around in this heat getting supplies and clothes when we could be hiking (snicker) and swimming and just in general lounging around a few more weeks, reading a few more good books just for fun and reveling in life without all the deadlines that come with school and Fall and the ensuing holiday craziness.

Or maybe I could just take a pill and chill with the moments we have left.



Credit: photo courtesy of www.robertopiecollection.com