Discovering

I wrote this post the night I arrived in Hiawassee, but due to the technical difficulties associated with staying in a small mountain town, I never got it posted while I was there.

It’s spring break. Sadly, this does not mean days lazing on a beach this year, or lazing anywhere else for that matter. I’m nearing the end of my program and along with that comes the crunch of getting everything finished. I have to take my comprehensive exams the end of April, propose my dissertation the beginning of June, and take a midterm a few days after spring break. It all comes at once. As I said to a friend I visited with on the drive today, spring break isn’t what it used to be.

So, lacking a beach, I decided to drive to Hiawassee, GA. There’s a condo on Lake Chatuge that is available on just such occasions and the price is right for a PhD student dependent upon a university stipend...read free. I decided that half the allure of going to Hiawassee is the drive itself. From Murfreesboro, I head to Chattanooga and battle the 5000 trucks that drive that route every day. However, shortly after leaving Chattanooga I get to leave the interstate and take a route east that dances across the lines between Tennessee, Georgia and North Carolina. This road leads through the incredibly beautiful Ocoee River Valley. It is a narrow winding road with steep drops down to the river. Today was beautifully sunny and the trees haven’t leafed out yet (though many are blooming), which means that the river was clearly visible. I just can’t help smiling as I drive this road.

While I love this drive simply for its beauty, it struck me today that there was something else as well. From the moment I left the interstate I began thinking about what I would do while I was here. Of course there will be quite a bit of studying, but there will also be some exploring. I haven’t climbed Brasstown Bald yet and the Appalachian Trail is just up the road. There are hikes galore and waterfalls around every bend in the road. I realized today that one of the things I love most about trips like this is that I get to discover things. I love it. It makes me come alive. I think it’s why I don’t quite fit in Murfreesboro. Unless the world’s largest cedar bucket is something you’ve really been dying to see, there is really nothing to discover in Murfreesboro. It’s just kind of a boring little suburban town. And that is why many people love it. Which is great, I’m glad they’ve found a place to love. But for me, I need to discover things. I lived in Anchorage for 3 years and barely scratched the tip of the iceberg in discovering Alaska. Tennessee is much tamer. While discovering restaurants and music venues is fun, its not the same as cresting a ridge after a long hike, feeling the sunlight on your face and taking in the expansive view in front of you. In the words of David Wilcox,

But you made the climb up to the crest

Seeing it all ahead of the rest

And your expression showed the wonder of the place

Looking westward with the sunlight on your face

At the wide open vista

At the wide open sweet someday...

I'm looking forward to the discoveries, vistas, and sweet somedays of the week to come.

P.S. I'm not kidding about the cedar bucket. Google it.

Back in the 'Boro Blues

There's this thing that happens every time I walk off of a plane and into the Nashville airport. It is this immediate deflating. It's always hard for vacation to end, but when vacation is a month long journey around the Western U.S. visiting many of my favorite people it is especially hard. I spent a month laughing, talking, catching up, drinking wine, playing board games, doing science experiments, reading books, giggling under the Christmas tree, holiday dinners, nights out with my siblings, twirling and playing princesses with my niece, sledding, drinking pots and pots of coffee with my sister, nursing sick children, staying up 'til 3 with my brother, shooting guns (it's Montana, what do you expect?), eating way too much at my grandparent's, sleeping in, watching movies, soaking in the breathtaking beauty of Montana, and just loving and being loved. It was such a fantastic month.

And then comes the return. Que the music...dun, dun, dun. Suffice it to say, it's always a rough transition. I mean, how do you go from weeks of this face:

accompanied by "Aunt Wachow, you pay wif me, pease, pease, pease!?!" everyday to a series of professional relationships that are consistently less than professional or even at all pleasant. It's a rough transition. It always makes me homesick. It's a funny thing that I am most homesick every time I return "home." I recognized fully once again that home really is not in any way a place to me. Home is where the people I love are. I have lots of homes. I just don't happen to be living in one of them at this current moment. But I have great hope that I will be again soon, and I have so many options. Every stop I made on this trip I said at one point in time or another, "I could totally move here." (Ok, maybe not Stanley. I love the farm and my grandparents, but I'm probably not moving there any time soon.)

My brother introduced me to The Head and the Heart last fall and I finally downloaded their album and have been listening to it pretty much constantly the last week. This song in particular has been played over and over and I want to share it with you all. Whether I saw you on this lastest epic adventure of mine or I'm saving you until next time, "I miss your face like hell" and hope there aren't too many rivers and roads before I see you again.

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving has always been one of my favorite days of the year. I've been trying to determine today why that is. It lead me down a path of remembering so many of the Thanksgiving celebrations I've been a part of throughout my life. When I was growing up, Thanksgiving meant Bozeman and my cousins. We would all cram into Grandma and Grandpa's little farm house on the hill. The wood stove would be roaring and the ranch dressing free flowing. After dinner we would take our sleds and tubes to the draw and spend hours flying down the hill. There was usually a football game or two in the snow and then cocoa by the fire. At the time I believed it was the only way I would ever enjoy Thanksgiving.

I still miss those days. Life was so much simpler then and it meant a whole day with some of my favorite people. But, today I've had a slide show of Thanksgivings running through my head. One year I was in Scotland teaching and the family I lived with surprised me with a Thanksgiving feast when I arrived home from school. Complete with neighbors, party crackers and Christmas pudding with rum sauce. Pretty highly untraditional, but so wonderful and thoughtful. One year we spent it with my sister-in-law's family feeling oh-so-thankful that my brother made it through a significant brain surgery and also for a healthy little nephew's arrival. One in Scott and Cori's little condo in Denver, that one with two cute little nephews to cuddle and love. The next year Thanksgiving was spent with a ragtag group from the Handle Bar and Grill. I spent about two hours sitting on the floor of someone's kitchen with Joel and Chad O while we waited for the second turkey to finish cooking and then laughed and enjoyed a great meal with a group of people who I would have never imagined would become such good friends. I never imaged that day that my next Thanksgiving would be spent in Alaska at the home of the Felixes and that I would see two people, who would later become some of my dearest friends, get engaged. And that after leaving that feast I would spend the evening playing games and eating half of a peanut butter pie, the other half being devoured by someone I hardly knew, but now consider one of my many best friends. Another was spent at the home of the Ayers and involved much chaos and laughter. Two years ago the Thanksgiving celebration was combined with a wedding celebration for the aforementioned peanut butter pie friend and a trip home to Alaska after a traumatic move to Tennessee. Just what the doctor ordered. Today I spent the day with my wonderful roommate and a friend from here in Tennessee and her extended family. It was warm and we sat in the sunshine eating and getting to know one another.

Now I'm sitting in front of the fire with a glass of wine contemplating how much I would have missed if I had only allowed myself Bozeman Thanksgivings. There are many days I wish I could have one more of those, especially now that one of the key players is missing, but mostly I'm just overwhelmingly grateful for all the different Thanksgivings I've experienced. I wouldn't trade the relationships gained for anything. The relationships in my life have gained a new importance over the last few years and so tonight I'm thankful for every one of them and what they brought to my life. and in particular for each of you who I've shared a Thanksgiving feast with. Thank you for opening your homes and your lives to me. Hopefully we'll be spending one together again soon.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Fall

Fall is slow to arrive in Tennessee. Summer clings to the days well into September. Finally, in mid-October there is a chill in the morning air and the leaves begin to show signs of changing. And then one morning you awaken to find yourself in a world of golds and reds and brilliant oranges and driving becomes dangerous because it's all you can do to not just stare at the trees as you drive. It is absolutely breathtaking.

Today is November 8. It is 40 degrees in Montana. It is 20 degrees in Anchorage. It was 78 degrees in Murfreesboro. Though I miss the west and the mountains, I LOVE that it stays warm so long here. I dropped my roommate off at the airport this morning, did a marathon Trader Joe's trip, threw my groceries into the fridge and headed to Stone's River for a fall tramp through the woods. When I think of walking through magical woods it usually involves snow, but there is something spectacular about the multicolored forest here right now. I guarantee you it would be impossible to remain in a bad mood once you entered the quiet forest paths. I did a three mile loop and couldn't stop smiling. The leaves both crunching underfoot as well as swirling in the air around me and the sounds of gobbling turkeys, wisely seeking refuge in the protected grounds of Stone's River, provided a perfectly delightful soundtrack to my walk. I walked, skipped and even twirled my way down the path. The grays of winter may be just around the corner, bringing with them due dates and finals, but today I just can't be bothered. I'm just soaking in this day.

Riding With Strangers

A few years ago my sister and I had the opportunity to travel around Europe together. For the most part we had a great time together. However, there was this one night… you know how it goes. Anyway, we got off the train in Brussels and headed to our hostel. I had figured out how to get there before getting off the train, unfortunately, we used the wrong exit from the train station and things just went south from there. Pretty soon it was dark and raining. Karen was less than amused by the change in circumstances. As we were standing on the street corner trying to figure out where we were and how to get where we wanted to be a car pulled up along side us and the man inside offered to give us a ride to our hostel. Said it wasn’t far and he’d be glad to help out. Now, I’m not the most worldly-wise girl, but I did remember my kindergarten lesson about strangers. However, before I could even open my mouth, Karen had her backpack off and was sitting in the backseat staring at me. I distinctly remember standing with my umbrella in one hand and the guidebook in the other, mouth hanging open, just staring at my sister. I remember also clearly thinking, “Well, I’m sure not going home without her” and I got in the car, too. Luckily, he really was a very nice man and he brought us directly to our hostel and all was well.

I’ve given my sister a lot of grief about this incident over the last few years. I still shake my head sometimes but it’s sure a fun story. Last Monday I flew home from Montana after 10 days with family. I got on the bus to take me to the car in economy parking and sat next to a cute little 20 year old from Lexington, Kentucky. As we were leaving the terminal he started asking funny questions like, “So, this will take us to the $8 parking lot, right?” “Do all the stops look different?” and the like. Turns out, he hadn’t written down his stop and he had no idea where he was parked. Top it all off, his friend had driven while he was sleeping in the car and his friend had not returned with him. We went all the way through the economy parking lot and at the last stop he was still sitting there looking more and more miserable. As I got off the bus I turned around and saw his sad little half panicked face and told him to grab his suitcase and I’d help him find his car. It wasn’t until he loaded his bag in the truck and was sitting next to me that it occurred to me that never in a million years would I pick up a hitchhiker, but that’s pretty much what I’d just done. And then I looked at him again, and realized I could totally take him. So I just drove up and down the rows of cars until he finally found his car. He was cute and funny and so very appreciative. As he was walking away from the truck he came running back and threw $20 in the window with a “Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!” So now I get to buy myself something fun.

I came away from this experience with two thoughts. One, when did 20 year olds become cute in the “I want to pat your head and squeeze your cheeks,” kind of way? And two, eight years ago, karma knew I was going to pick up a stranded 20 year old and help him find his car in a gigantic airport parking lot and to balance that out, we ended up with a safe ride in Brussels. Yep, Karen, you're welcome.

A year...

Do you remember where you were a year ago today? Are there moments in your life that stand out, that are as clear to you right now as if they just happened? Today is one of those days for me. One of those days that marks a turning point. A year ago almost to this moment I was sitting on the floor at the top of my stairs talking to my mom and hearing that my friend was gone. His fight and his pain were finally over. Through the course of the last few weeks I’ve been thinking about today and what it would mean. How I would acknowledge and honor this day. Through the course of several conversations it became very clear that I didn’t want it to be a day to sit and think about his death and just be sad.

Last weekend I had the opportunity to have breakfast with some wonderful people. As we were cleaning up, and without even knowing how much this had been on my mind, we got on this topic of marking milestones. Laverne reminded me of how in the Old Testament every time there was a significant milestone in the life of the Israelites the Lord told them to build an altar of stones so that every time they saw them they would be reminded of the importance of that moment and that the Lord brought them through. I’ve been thinking about this last year. There’s been so much that has happened. When I look back, I see a lot of pain. There was pain in my life and in the lives of so many I love. But there was life too. So my choice today is to begin to build an altar of those things to remember that the Lord brought me through.

The first stone is, of course, the collective pain of so many I love because Todd is no longer here. There’s a stone because I wasn’t awoken at 5 a.m. on my birthday because he couldn’t ever remember the Alaska time-change. There’s a stone because even though he always taunted me with, “I’ll always be older than you…” now I’m older than him. But there’s also a stone because my relationship with so many of my cousins is cemented in a way it wasn’t before. That would make Todd really happy. There’s a stone for the battles I fought this year that I never would have thought that I could fight, not to mention win. There’s a stone because I’m a lot tougher than I thought I was and, it turns out, somewhat a force to be reckoned with when I know I’m standing up for what’s right. There are stones for new houses, new babies, new friends and engagements of people I dearly love.

What are the moments from this year in your life that deserve a stone? Leave a comment and we’ll mourn and celebrate them together. There’s been joy and pain, but He’s bringing us through. So on April 9, I choose my song to be, “The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy.”

I think Todd would approve. I’ve started a notebook in the last few days where I’ve been listing my stones and I’ll keep adding to it for next year. But no more tonight. Tonight I just miss my friend.

Delight

This Christmas I spent a lot of time with one of my cousins and his little boy. He kept using the word “delightful” and I kept teasing him about always using it. You know how you pick up phrases from someone that you are around a lot? Well, ever since then I’ve found myself saying that many things are delightful. Every time I use the word I think of how my cousin told me one day that it wasn't a word he used lightly. So, I’ve been looking into what it means. Basically, it means something that brings great joy to your life. As I’ve thought through it, I’ve realized that even in the midst of all of life’s crap there are moments of delight. For instance, the process of losing my good friend was hard, but the relationships that were built or strengthened with my cousins and friends throughout that process delight me. I think a lot of life comes down to choosing to find the moments of delight in the midst of the pain. Currently I’ve been fighting through the “spring-break’s-over-middle-of-semester” blues, and the fact that nothing in this program has gone the way I expected. In the midst of the turmoil and frustration it is important to find delight as well. So I decided to compile a list of things that have delighted me recently.

1. Having a four year old invite me to a tea party where a puffy dress was a necessity. And in addition, getting to play dress-up with my little sister again.

2. Drinking a really great bottle of wine with good friends.

3. The giggles of my niece as she soared through the air on this bungee cord/trampoline thingy on Pier 39 in San Francisco.

4. Tulip Trees. How could this not delight you?

5. A hike in the wilds of Tennessee that ends up on a cliff with the wind in my face.

6. The fact that my little brother is no longer in the military and gets to start a new adventure.

7. The redbuds, pear trees, daffodils, fosythias, tulips and myriad other blooming things that remind me to pull my head out of my books.

8. Playing silly games on skype that make a two year old boy giggle so hard he almost falls off his chair.

There are all kinds of amazing and wonderful things in the world, so my question now is, what delights you?