Midlife Girl’s Guide to Rock Climbing*

Posted on March 20, 2012 by Melissa

*Because life is short enough without being bored.

In order to reach this 800 year old ruin in Butler Wash, a few rocks had to be climbed.

Here we are in scenic Blanding, Utah, land of opportunity: to see endless sky, get dirty, sunburned, slide down rocks, go further than you should go, see ancient ruins and, of course, CLIMB ROCKS! While Mike is suffering under the tutelage of managment/excutive types at Boeing’s Leadership Institute in St. Louis (Wah! Sorry, honey. We miss you!), I’ve been spending our anniversary with Andrew hiking the desert down in Blanding, Utah, motto: at least 300 miles from anywhere. This is our 4th trip down here together with Mike and Claire joining us on one trip. This is where I come when I’ve had just about enough of the cold, wet, dark weather we enjoy 9 months of the year in Tacoma. Coming to southern Utah clears my mind, cleanses my soul, and generally acts like a good chimney cleaning for my entire being. I get warm from the inside out. I love it here. Until I can enjoy the endless expanses of ocean from the deck of a boat, I will come down here and enjoy the endless expanses of desert as often as I can.

With that in mind, I offer ‘Midlife Girl’s Guide to Rock Climbing’, Utah style. I don’t know about you, but I simply refuse to stop climbing on rocks just because I’ve hit middle age. The big rocks here positively hum under my hands with the most gentle earthy feeling. They are absolutely nothing like the rocks in Washington, so full of fire and action. These rocks are gentle, old, settled in. These rocks are positively nurturing. So rather than stop, because a boring life is just unthinkable, I’ve determined that the correct approach to rock climbing is to simply adapt my techniques. Maybe I used to be a mountain goat, but I now find myself feeling more akin to certain other animals. The photos and captions tell the story.

The Snake. Useful for traveling up the side of steep rocks. Lean into the rock and then ripple your stomach muscles. No, I didn't know I had any there, either. Trust me. They will grip the rock, enabling a slow but sure slither uphill until you reach the ledge.

You will feel like this when the mission is accomplished. No wusses allowed on these rocks! Note filthy shirt. I don't care.

The Four Wheel Drive. This position is useful when the rock is too difficult to stand on, but not steep enough for the 'Snake' posture.

The gecko, for completely vertical rock faces. Okay, okay. Yes, the photo is actually turned. But it looks really bad ass, right? I actually do not have sticky pads on my feet and hands. This is the 'Spider Monkey' position for those times when you have a good hand hold and want to walk your feet up to your hands before letting go. A VERY useful position.

Rock hugger, when you must become one with the rock in order to make it across a ledge. Kissing the rock is permitted, and may ensure safe passage. Lots of big cat prints in this area, but no big cats to be seen.

Mastering these skills will allow you to access sites like this:

Taken at the Butler Wash ruin.Not many modern masons can touch the perfection of the geometric shapes in this ancient place. Andrew and I heard voices, but there was no one there. Glad Andrew heard them, too.

Two more days in Blanding! Now for a hot bath and a few ibuprofen.

Notes From the Universe

Posted on March 12, 2012 by Melissa

A galaxy far, far away.

This Little Cunning Plan is really putting my faith to the test. Not that it hasn’t been tested before. It’s just that at the age I am at now, it seems like time is short to live our dreams, so I feel that sense of urgency; not unlike the feeling I used to get when separated from my babies for too long when I left them with someone else. I’m so irritated at being this old that I forgot how old I was the other day. (Try it. It’s a useful trick.) So the testing I’m going through has this sense of urgency on some days.

Anyhow, back to the Universe, a word which here means God, the great Creator, the Goddess, Holy Father, Unifying Field, or any number of other monikers people seem to use interchangeably. I generally have a lot of faith in it, whatever it is. And I am practicing waiting patiently, working on enjoying my life as it is, while focusing on how it will be in the future, all at the same time. Sometimes this is a tricky balance, such as when I look around and notice all the work that has to be done around here, or when I get frustrated that our boat hasn’t yet sold. And on those days, I can really use a little encouragement.

That’s where Notes From the Universe comes in. The notes are in the form of little email messages I get daily through a program generated by Mike Dooley, guru of ‘Thoughts Become Things‘. He’s an inspirational speaker, author, and all that, who makes his money doing those speaking and authoring things. His message is simple: that what you think about is what you manifest, what you focus on becomes your reality. It’s a fairly simplistic version of the ‘law of attraction’, pretty ‘New Agey’, not real deep stuff. I’m not particularly recommending his books, as I find them to be a little repetitive and not a lot of substance. I like more academic works, as a general rule. But I give him a lot of credit for having a clear, unwavering message that is positive and hopeful. He is uplifting to people and that’s all to the good. His ‘Notes’ program, though, I really love.

You sign up with your email address and create a profile that includes your hopes and dreams for the future. The notes are tailored toward that profile. I made mine so long ago that now when I get a note that references ‘blue water voyaging’, it’s a little freaky until I remember that it’s computer generated. Nonetheless, it works. No matter what your goal may be, this little program offers encouragement in a loving way from the Universe. Here’s my message for today:

“Perhaps the greatest of all illusions, Melissa, is that life could somehow be better than it already is. You’ve got it made- The Universe”

How perfect is that? Just last night Mike and I were commenting to each other about how very, very fortunate we’ve been in our lives. Happily married coming up on 30 years, two beautiful children who are successful at life, a nice home, good professions that we’ve enjoyed (even if we’re tired of working) and that have offered a satisfying standard of living. We have so much to be grateful for. And the Universe does a good job of reminding me of that.

If the Universe is intelligent, it understands me better than I do.

Hope ‘Springs’ Eternal!

Posted on February 29, 2012 by Melissa

I am hopeful for an early spring this year. This hope comes as I look at the temperature outside and realize it’s a chilly 33 degrees Fahrenheit. And that’s without the wind chill and the freezing rain/snow that’s been blowing around all day long. Once this winter storm passes, though, I’m going to hold out for spring to come early and stay. We deserve it. It’s time. And I think I may have evidence of such an event blooming in my yard. Walking the garden, I notice that I have a lot of things blooming much earlier this year.

Of course, I say that every year because it’s about this time that those of us who are the uber-gardeners start chomping at the bit to get outside and put our hands in the dirt. It’s true. I have been happiest with dirt under my nails and leaves in my hair. Fortunately, I married a good man who doesn’t mind a few twigs. In the past this extreme love of the garden has vied for space in my psyche with my love of sailing. I admit that many times I have let Mike go down to the boat by himself, preferring to putter around in the garden snipping this, digging that. My garden is beautiful. I’ve had many years of pleasure creating and maintaining it. Gardens are world’s in and of themselves. Ask any passionate gardener.

Last year I noticed that my feelings had changed. I still loved the garden, but I started choosing to go down to the boat rather than work all day. I allowed once pampered plants to fend for themselves. “Live or die”, I said to them. “You choose.” (Yep, I do talk to my plants.) The balance was tipping; the downhill slide into full fledged boat craziness had begun. I bought a hammock, put it up on the boat, and commenced laying in it with a good book.

I usually don’t do much in moderation, a karmic lesson that will take me a lifetime to learn properly. So once the balance shifts, it’s a little like riding a freight train. Still, the karma requires that I throttle back the engine some and pay attention to the fullness of my life now, not simply the life I want to lead in the future. So I’m trying. In so doing, I go out to my garden and look at what’s blooming, plan what needs to happen this year; make time and space in the psyche for plants I still love and spaces that still feed my soul.

Here are some photos I took while walking the garden on a sunny day this week. The Hellebores are blooming! I love them because they bloom in the winter, then keep nice foliage the rest of the year. They are no muss, no fuss plants with a lot of impact. And they don’t need much sun, which is good because I don’t have much to give them up here.

Hellebores, who give up their beauty in the depths of winter, are the promise of the spring yet to emerge for us. They are the hope-keepers of the garden, bridging the memory of gardens past with the vision for the garden’s future. They say to us, ‘Just wait patiently for the future to emerge. No need to hurry. Appreciate me right now.’ And I love them for it, and try to listen.