Gratitude, and letting God provide

So, I'm currently wide awake at almost 3 in the morning because I made a rookie jet lag mistake: I took a nap after finishing my walking for the day, and I didn't give myself ample time to acclimate to Spain time yet. But, that means I get to have time to write here. Part of me wishes I could write in my journal, but I really don't want to leave my bed--the blankets are quite cozy, and it would be nice if I could get tired enough to actually get some more sleep tonight.

Anyway, last night, I stayed in the Beilari, a small albergue with about 20 beds. As a private albergue, it was a bit pricey at 30 euros, but it included dinner and breakfast today, so it was very worth it. The owner, Joseph, had us play some games with an imaginary ball in order to get to know one another...kind of cheesy, but also fun. The last one was to sum up in one word what we were feeling at the moment, and I chose gratitude as my word.

See the white sign with the blue square right above the red arrow? That is what trail markers look like in France. I was so glad to see my first yellow arrow.

Once I started walking today, I realized how apropos that word is for me. My laundry didn't dry overnight because I was so late washing it, but the pilgrims office allowed me to use their dryer so that I could be on my way. This could have been very bad, since bag carrying services usually have a cut off time for giving your pack to them, but they held the transport for me so I could squeak my pack in. Just as I was getting so hungry that I thought my stomach would start to digest itself, I walked by a supermarket that had a bar attached, and I was able to spend a pleasant half hour resting my feet and drinking green tea. The list goes on...

Some of the many wildflowers I saw on my walk today... I was traveling over several hills, so seeing pretty flowers was a good pretext for stopping to rest a moment.

As I was walking, I didn't see another pilgrim, and it gave me a lot of time to think and pray--and that time meant realizing that I was also grateful that I didn't let the volunteers at the pilgrims office persuade me to take the higher route over the Pyrenees. I took the easier route, which meant walking along several rural roads--the route Napoleon is a dedicated walking trail, but is much more vertical. Cars on the narrow lanes meant stepping to the side in order to let them pass, and staying on the rural roads meant that I walked about 15km rather than only 12km, but I think I saw a total of 10 cars all day, and the walk through farmland and small towns was gorgeous.

At the same time, I started to feel a bit worried that I would not see another pilgrim tonight as well, so I began praying that I could at least be able to meet at least one other pilgrim this evening. After eating lunch by myself, I was pleasantly surprised to see the French couple from my stay at the Beilari at the albergue. Then, after my nap, I went out to explore the town a bit, and settled in a bar/cafe with wifi. While there, I overheard one of the people that came in say something about walking, so I piped up and asked if they were pilgrims...they were, and this couple at the end of the bar said they were, too. The couple is from Austin, and their son went to Blinn, where I work. The other pilgrims I met are 3 sisters and their cousin the priest walking together to celebrate Fr. Martin's 25th anniversary of ordination. They are from Ireland, and are only walking a very short part of the Camino, but we all had a very pleasant dinner and conversation. The highlight was listening to Martin and Keith (the Austenite) discuss middle eastern politics.

I made a video to add to my summer classes, and first, accidentally took a selfie with the Val Carlos country side in the background. Of course, stupid me didn't think to get pictures of my dinner friends.

One thing I didn't do today was change my socks halfway through, and I probably should have. When I finally stopped, the person at the supermarket told me that I was only 3km from my destination, Val Carlos. At that point, I thought about doing so, but decided that it wasn't far enough to make a difference.

Then, there came a choice of ways to walk into Val Carlos, and I chose the one that looked like it would wind through villages on rural roads rather than follow the local highway.  And, that is how I ended up walking a good extra 3 km. By the time I got here, I could feel some places where my feet were rubbing, and was sure that I had a blister (I didn't, but I learned my lesson--another thing to be grateful for!).

So, God has again blessed me and given me more than I needed...no rain, good people to interact with, and a hope that there will be more of the same tomorrow. Even when it is hard, I am so grateful, and that makes even unpleasant experiences more pleasant.

Beauty

Sunrise Sunday Morning in Sedona.

Back in High School, I spent a lot of time reading and writing poems--some of that is due to the fact that I was the poster child for teenage angst, and some of it due to my AP English classes.  Amazingly, the only snippet I remember of all that poetry is these lines from Keat's poem, Ode on a Grecian Urn:

'Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all             

    Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.'

 Even in High School, I had a hard time thinking that the truth of homelessness, world hunger or poverty was beautiful.  The seedy, shady, and stark truths of living here on earth just don't seem very beautiful, but Keats seems to believe this is true if we take his lines at face value.  At the same time, there is something intuitive about the beautiful that points us to something beyond ourselves.

Some trees along the race course in Sedona

It is why certain vistas in nature take our breath away, and why most of us look at great buildings, pieces of art, and listen to certain songs in awe-filled contemplation.   It is why we love to look at Gothic Churches and their stained glass windows, regardless of how you feel about the Midieval politics behind the building of them.  The majesty of good art turns us away from navel gazing to the transcendent, the Divine.

Another Sunrise picture from Sedona

And that is what I have the hardest time with when it comes to our society's construction of beauty.  By those standards, I am probably a 6 or a 7 on a scale of 1-10 because I am overweight and on the downward side of 35.  I'm not a nubile young thing anymore, and because of that, I have crow's feet, grey hair, and less tolerance of suffering for the sake of fashion.  By those standards, I will never be as beautiful/pretty as I was when I was in my 20s unless I choose to wear make-up, wear revealing clothing, and possibly go under some plastic surgeon's knife.  On top of that, I burn easily and don't always remember to wear sunscreen on my hikes and runs--because of my sunglasses, I have an almost perpetual raccoon tan on my face!  It doesn't really bother me, but I know that it adds nothing to my ability to be photogenic.  It also means that I will likely never be successful at online dating--it is entirely geared toward visual beauty/attractiveness.  (I'm not talking about taking care of yourself, or trying to look your best--that is a matter of respecting yourself, not about beauty.  I'm not advocating wearing sweats to work or failing to brush your teeth--I am just saying that there are some major flaws in our society's construction of what is and isn't beatiful.)

Unlike this Lorikeet at the Ostrich farm, most of us aren't born with such pretty plumage!

I'd rather have the kind of beauty that comes from within--the kind that shines through because of who you are, not what you look like or what you wear.  I had a roommate in college like that.  She positively glowed because of her relationship with God and the beauty of her spirit.  And, as long as I continue to strive in that direction, where I am right now is the ugliest I will ever be. With this kind of beauty, all of us have the potential to be a solid 10! This kind of beauty is much harder to achieve, though, as it requires being painfully honest with ourselves about our flaws--our personal pettiness and habitual sins--and opening ourselves up to letting God help us build the kind of virtues that overcome those flaws.

Some sort of flower on one of the trails around Sedona.  

This kind of inward beauty also means that I become like a beautiful work of art or a gorgeous vista in nature--I become someone who points to the transcendent, the Divine.  I don't know about you, but that is a goal worth striving toward.  May we all reflect the Truth (John 14:6) with our beauty.

On Running

Sunrise from my Porch on Jan 31st.

There are very few things that will get me out of bed early enough to see the sunrise from my front porch, and the prospect of running a race is one of them.  It is funny, because I've always had a love/hate relationship with exercise: In college, I knew that I had to trick myself into exercising, or it wouldn't happen. Since that time, as long as it isn't more than 3 flights of stairs, I refuse to take the elevator; I try to park so that I can get more walking in; And I am constantly trying to figure out other ways to add exercise to my life. I needed something that is a better motivator than, "I need to be in better shape and I'd like to lose X pounds."

A picture from the road trip to Sedona.  It is much more fun when you can laugh and talk the miles away!

That's the thing--since I have begun running, I have gained 15 lbs, not lost any.  Mostly, I suspect that it is because I tend to give myself permission to eat more calories than I have burned.  As an inveterate snacker, this is one of my (many) Achilles heels, and I have begun working on fixing this by monitoring my calories again.  I hate calorie counting, but it is the only reliable way that I know of to keep track of how much I'm eating.  I'm thinking that banning between meal snacks will be a good Lenten discipline for me this year.  I'm also working on cutting out how many times I go to Starbucks, but that is ongoing.

All of us before the race.  I don't know who of us crossed the finish line first, but I was the last to finish.

I don't know that I've ever had a runner's high, either.  At the same time, running is its own motivation for me in ways that other exercise isn't--it clears my mind and I just feel incredibly refreshed after a 3-6 mile run.  It is like the little bit of speed that I can muster blows away the mental cobwebs and I begin to think more clearly about those things that I have been gnawing on.  It must be all of those glorious endorphins that one secretes while running.  My scientific friends would say that this happens with all exercise, but it sure doesn't feel like it!

Just past the half-way point.  Still feeling pretty good at this point!

All of us after the race. My chip time was 3:20:37. I'm hoping to shave at least 10 minutes off of that for the El Paso half.

So, after my adventure in Sedona, I am 1 half-marathon down for the year with at least 5 more scheduled for the year.  I likely won't see another sunrise again until I get up for another race, but that's ok.  I get to sleep a little bit later, and then spend evenings with family and friends.  As a night owl, the fact that  I live close to a trail that I can run safely in the dark is one of the best things about where I currently live.  Having friends who run with me, even if I am the turtle of the group is just cake.  It still blows my mind that it is no longer a chore to run more than 3 miles at a time, but that longer runs feel normal.

My friend Karin on our early morning hike the next morning before we started for home.  Another glorious sunrise!

Maybe someday, other forms of exercise will feel as wonderful as going for a run does.  If not, then at least I have learned to like one exercise enough to embrace the sport and make it a part of my lifestyle.  It only takes one, right?

Cheerleading for Fun and Profit (or Why We Need to be Encouragers)

[As an aside, I think I like blogging so much because of the fun of choosing titles....But that is another post for another day. ;-D]

Most of the time, when  I think of cheerleaders, I think of something like this:

You know the type, the way too perky, always happy person that lives in some kind of la-la land most of the time.  And yet, I am finding myself in the role of cheerleader more and more in my life....If anything, I've always thought of myself as the antithesis of the typical cheerleader.  I'm more of a brooding pessimist than a perpetual optimist with a perky, sparking personality...I am more like this:

I've never been a true goth, but I definitely have a corner on introverted navel-gazing

So, I'm finding myself surprised at how well I can fall into the role of cheer-leading.  How did this happen?  I really don't know, but I am currently my department's Wellness Ambassador, so I've been using that role to convince my colleagues to become more active, and in the process, I am doing a Couch to 5k training program with them on Tuesdays and Thursdays in addition to my normal exercising.  (As an added bonus, I am cultivating more running partners!) With some of the less athletic members of my department, that means reminding them that they can do it...hence the cheer-leading! 

Back when I used to teach public speaking, we spent considerable time talking about public speaking anxiety.  When it came to this particular class, I would usually start by asking students what they were most afraid of about getting up in front of everyone: the answers ranged from passing out or throwing up to having everyone's eyes on them.  A few mentioned that they felt sure that they would die of embarrassment! And yet, in my time teaching public speaking (6+ years), I have never had anyone die, pass out, or throw up.  I have had a student break out in tears, and another one trip and skin her knee on the way to the podium (and a few other jokers taking prat falls for the laugh), but the worst things people thought would happen have never materialized.  The best part of teaching public speaking was seeing how students were able to get past their anxiety to do well!

I'm convinced that we all need encouragers in our lives to keep us from psyching ourselves out of the opportunities God has put in our paths.  Without encouragers and people who can help us look at our own insecurities with a little bit of objectivity, we lose sight of the unique gifts and talents God has given us to share.  Then, we become like that guy in the Parable of the Talents--the one who buries his talent and doesn't do anything with it.  Scripture says that the master throws this servant out for not at least giving the money to money lenders in order to create interest...I don't want to be that kind of person.  I want to use my gifts and talents so that I can leave this world a better place, and that requires both taking risks and receiving encouragement.

While I'm not sure that I will ever be the perky cheer-leading type, I do want to be an encourager in my daily life, and I think that is something that all of us can strive for, since all of us need to be encouraged at times. Most of us have insecurities, and because of them, we tend to overlook some of our own abilities.  When that happens, we tend to avoid putting ourselves out there because we don't want to deal with rejection or failure.  Here's the thing, though.  If we don't try, we can be 100% sure that we won't succeed. So, sometimes, we need a friend or a colleague to come along side us and encourage us to get out there, to try, to let us know that we can try and will (usually) succeed.  I think that is why I love Dr. Seuss's book, "Oh the Places You'll Go." so much.  It doesn't sugar-coat the fact that we will sometimes have to move through failure to find success, but it also encourages us to take that risk.

The last page of the book.  I love Dr. Seuss!

What risk have you been hesitating about?  What has been holding you back?  Go ahead!  You can take that first step!!!

Welcome to Holland

A friend of mine posted this on a forum that I am a member of...

Welcome To Holland
by
Emily Perl Kingsley

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel.  It's like this......

When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy.  You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum.  The Michelangelo David.  The gondolas in Venice.  You may learn some handy phrases in Italian.  It's all very exciting.

After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives.  You pack your bags and off you go.  Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."

"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy!  I'm supposed to be in Italy.  All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."

But there's been a change in the flight plan.  They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease.  It's just a different place.

So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language.  And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.

It’s just a different place.  It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy.  But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips.  Holland even has Rembrandts.

But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there.  And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned." 

And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever  go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.

But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.

 Since I don't have children, I can't speak to whether this is true of having a child with disabilities. However, I often feel the same way about being where I am in my life: divorced and childless (unless you count my animals--they are spoiled like children at times!).  I remember dreaming about having a large family in high school, and then feeling the pressure to "find the right one" while in college. I remember the moment in my marriage when I realized that having children was unlikely, and then the moment when my ex's behavior removed all doubt.  I remember the point when I realized that I had married the wrong person, and then the moment when I no longer had the ability to fight for my marriage by myself.

As you can see, the animals really rule the house...This is what it often looks like when we are watching TV.

Now that almost a year has passed since my ex moved out, I find myself (finally) getting used to Holland, and I like it here.  Unlike the above author, I didn't start out in Holland.  I got on a plane expecting Italy, and ended up landing in Somalia on the battlefield--I fought with everything I had for the duration, thinking that, if I fought hard enough, Somalia would become Italy.  I lost  my ammunition, my weapons one by one, and finally, the will to fight over the space of 11 years (I'm not a quick study when it comes to my personal life!).  When that happened, I walked off the field, got on a plane, and landed in Holland.  It still isn't Italy, but Italy, even if I get there, will never be the same because of the scars from Somalia.  Even so, I'm beginning to love Holland.  The tulips and windmills are peaceful, and there is a joy in finally living without bullets whizzing by my ears.  Sometimes, I still duck at loud noises, but that is happening less and less.  I have hope that there will come a day when I can look back and be thankful for Somalia and the lessons I learned there.

A picture from my most recent hike.  This was the sunrise as we began our hike over the Ron Coleman trail.  Isn't Holland Beautiful? (This is actually a picture of El Paso from McKelligan Canyon, but I'm trying to stick with the metaphor)

Right now, while the scars are still tender (but healing), I'm not always very thankful for the pain....I spend more of my time with God being a big fat whiner than I'd like to admit to!  When I am at my worst, I tend to hear the voice in my head saying, "Suck it up!" If I listen to that voice, I find that my being quiet allows me to hear what the Lord has to say to me.  And that is the best part of being in Holland....I'm finally at a place where I can really listen to the Lord instead of just reacting to the chaos around me.

Another picture from my Hike yesterday.  Living in Holland is like this flower--you bloom where you are, even if you have less soil than you would like. 

It may not be Italy, but Holland is a pretty good place to be!

Going Alone

I have never really been a shrinking violet, scared of the unknown or of doing stuff by myself or on my own. I will admit that there are some things that I'm not able to do, with others or otherwise--anything that requires I fall from a height, for instance....even rappelling is out, since it requires that I let go of a perfectly good mountain!  I will admit to wanting to sky-dive at least once, but I also know that, if I'm the one responsible for jumping out of the plane, there is no way that this particular item on my bucket list will ever happen.  Unfortunately, that is the residual of having a fear of falling.  I can be up high all day as long as I feel safe from falling, but I even have trouble jumping off a high dive!

I would not be this happy if I ever jumped.  I suspect that the picture would basically show sheer terror on my part!

Even so, I went to Albania on a short term missions trip by myself when I was 16, I spent my senior year in Germany as an exchange student, and then I went to Mongolia to teach English for a summer when I was in College.  I have driven multiple long road trips across country by myself--the most memorable was the one where my car caught on fire, or maybe the one where I had a trucker try to pick me up via the CB my dad gave me--it was his way to make sure that I could get help if my car broke down in the middle of nowhere (this probably dates me, since I didn't have a cell phone and cell phones weren't common at the time).  

Honestly, I have no qualms about walking the Camino by myself, and I'm actually looking forward to the adventure.  I know how to be safe with my valuables by keeping them on my person at all times, and I have enough money in my budget that, if everything else is stolen, I can still finish my Camino.  If someone really needs my backpack and my hiking clothes that bad, they are welcome to them. I also know how to protect my person...my sister Sarah made sure of that in high school, and my superiors while working in the dorms finished the job with ways to get out of holds and run.  *shrugs*  I'm not going to be stupid, but if a situation comes up, I can deal with it.

Doing certain things alone still feel a little unnatural to me, though....I would prefer to go dancing, to a concert, or even to some races with other people rather than by myself.  I can and I do go by myself when I can't find anyone to go with me, but I have found that some things are better when shared.  For instance, last March, I completed a color run in ABQ...It was fun, but watching some of the other runners as they interacted with their groups, I realized that it would have been more fun with others, even if only to be able to make fun of how everyone else in my party looked at the end!  I'm hoping that doing things by myself will eventually feel normal.  While I'm really more of an introvert than an extrovert, I have no problems introducing myself to others, so I can make friends where ever I go, and really, that is part of the fun of being single again.

I am terrible at self-portraits.  This is the better of the 2 I took at the Color run back in March...This is probably a good thing, as I'm less likely to inundate here and my Facebook account with self-portraits!

These shoes turned every pair of socks green for the next 4 weeks!

I asked one of the volunteers to take a picture of me.  I showed them how to zoom, but they chose not to...

It is funny....Being single has a different kind of loneliness than the loneliness I experienced in my marriage. The loneliness I feel now is less sharp-edged, less painful....and it doesn't last as long either.  I haven't figured out exactly why yet, although I suspect that the loneliness in my pre-divorce days was mixed with feelings of rejection.  Whatever the real reason, I have come to realize that I may not have full control over whether or not I feel lonely, but I do have control over what I do with it.  I can mope and wallow, or I can go out and live my life.  When I do the latter, I end up making new friends and spending time with the friends that I have....which takes care of the loneliness.  Even when I end up doing something by myself, the act of living mutes the loneliness, if not extinguishes it completely.  It becomes a cricket singing outside my bedroom window rather than the drone of a mosquito inside my bedroom at 3 am.

So, I continue to work on being willing to venture out by myself, and in the process, I'm finding contentment. I'm blessed by friends, but I'm learning that I am also blessed by my own company.  It is ok to go to an event alone!

Book Club for the next year!!!

I love going to book club...It forces me to read books that I might not have picked up otherwise, as well as gives me one night a month to spend with friends.  Accepting the invitation of my sister to join book club when I first moved to EP was one of the best decisions I have ever made.  Even though I'm not a mom and not homeschooling (this book club was started as an adjunct to the local Catholic Home-school Group), they have embraced me and I value all of their friendships immensely.

Thankfully, the ladies aren't like this...I think it comes from the fact that all of them are busy moms--read the book or don't, but still come for the fellowship!

 So, after all of us voted on close to 50 books, our choices for the next year have been chosen.  The winners are:

• August: The School if the Family by Chantal Howard
• September: The Innocence of Father Brown by GK Chesterton
• October: Nine Years Under: Coming of Age in an Inner City Funeral Home by Sheri Booker
• November: Miracles of Father Kapuan: Priest, Soldier, Korean War Hero by Ray Wenzl
• we were told last night that this book was voted for by all but one of us.
• December: No Meeting
• January: Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen
• February: The Ear of the Heart by Mother Delores Hart
• March:  Fire Within: St. Teresa of Avila, St. John of the Cross, and the Gospel on Prayer by Thomas Dubay
• April: Call the Midwife by Jennifer Worth
• May:  Imitating Mary, Ten Marian Virtues for the Modern Mom by Marge Fenelon
• June: The Diving Bell and the Butterfly by Jean-Dominique Bauby
• July: The One Thing is Three by Michael Gaitley

It is kind of interesting, because we usually have more fiction on the list, but it looks like there are only 3 fiction titles on the list this year...we also have more memoirs this year.  I think that many of us need to quit reading Jennifer Fulweiler's blog, since many of the memoirs are books she recommended!!!  It is also nice to see that Austen made the list this year--we seem to read one of her novels every other year or so.  We didn't read her this past year, but we read Bronte's Jane Eyre, as well as another Ann Patchett Novel.  We seem to read Patchett every other year, too.  Two years ago, we read Patron Saint of Liars by her and all of us agreed that we didn't like the ending.  It is one of the things that is most frustrating about Patchett--it is like she never really finishes her books!


I'm kind of sad because I'm going to miss book club in September, since I will be on my Camino, especially since the Fr. Brown novel is one of the books that I recommended to the club.  At least I already have it downloaded to my iPad Mini (free e-book!!!), so I will likely read it while in Spain, if not before.

Me reading with my critters.  I have been using e-books almost exclusively for the last 4-5 years!

I will be leading the discussion in October and April this year.  I'm looking forward to it!