Tag Archives: Middle age

Midlife Girl’s Guide to Rock Climbing*

Posted on by

*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 by

 

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.

Stay the Course!

Posted on by

A sunny day at the boat today.

January sucks. I had to get that out of my system. I just hate this month with its long darkness. The sense of urgency I feel to get out of here and into someplace with more sunlight can be simply overwhelming at times, causing sleepless nights, irritability, and thoughts of simply walking out the door, getting on the boat we have, and sailing away. So I frequently have to smack myself into thinking more clearly about The Plan. The smacking happens more easily on days like this: filled with sunshine and being on the boat. It’s cold, but at least down here at the marina we can get the benefit of whatever sun is available this time of year.

We’ve been spending a lot of time looking at boats lately and this has led me down the garden path into thinking that we’re closer to leaving than we actually are. Fantasy is really so much more enjoyable than physical reality.  What we really need to be doing is selling Moonrise. So we’ve begun preparing her for sale. This is kindred to a grieving process since boats, as everyone knows, have consciousness and personality. Moonrise is a steady, supportive boat filled with kindness and a sense of adventure. She is upbeat and sincere, and like a good and faithful dog, always wants to please. We have had many years of good times in this worthy boat and being down here at the marina, working on her to get her ready for sale, gives me time to reflect on these times and to be glad I’ve had them. If it were not for Moonrise, I would not even be considering long distance cruising, and she knows it. Moonrise has shown me that it is completely possible to feel safe and secure while on the water, even in nasty weather.

So first, get Moonrise on the market. Concurrently, we need to prepare to rent out our house. This causes yet more of those feelings of grief. It’s hard for me to leave houses. I left houses all the time as I was growing up, a brat with a military father. So I tend to get rather attached to them, and at the same time I resent this attachment. Probably no one except another kid with an upbringing like mine can understand this pathetic and delicate rapprochement. Our house is filled with sweat equity. Every room bears witness to the countless hours we spent making our house the home it is today.

And I cannot even begin to express my dismay at leaving my garden. I have begun to withdraw from the emotion of it in order to continue to move forward with the plan. The huge pond and waterfall I built with my own hands, my koi, raised from tiny babies and protected lovingly from herons and their ilk. The greenhouse Mike insisted I needed and built for me. The garden walls I built, using my own red cement mixer. The berm in the back, built with the cooperation and help of my many gardening friends. My hundreds of lily bulbs. My thousands of dollars worth of rare plants that no one but me can identify. My 30 or so different types of hydrangeas, many of which cannot replaced.  Who will protect my emerging hostas from slugs? Who will know to go up to the witch hazel and sniff the flowers in the dead of winter? Who will know, when the Himalayan lilies bloom again in about 4 years, that this is a rare and wonderful thing?  How will anyone else appreciate these things, much less care for them? If I think too much about it, I will get a little crazy.

So I prepare to walk away from this, because it’s the only way we can move on to the next part of our lives and not get stuck in the same old rut forever, until we die, old and unfulfilled. My worst nightmare. I’d really like to skip over all of this part and just move on to the boat shopping. I tried that and it worked for awhile. But then I remembered that we already have a boat, and a house, and that I’m supposed to be getting these things ready to be released into the universe. So that I, too, can be released.

View of the S/V Annabelle, an old ferry that someone lives on. It's just so cute!