Moving On

So I’m packing up the house in Granby today and getting ready for part IV of this adventure, when I spot a moose outside my door. Not 100 yards away as has been typical of my time here. No, I mean literally less than 10 feet away outside my door! He is munching a baby aspen while I am at the computer. I catch a glimpse of him as Roxy sends her danger warning relentless bark. He is the size of a horse! And I cannot believe my good fortune. My last night here and I am beside myself with excitement. I grab my camera and head outside. I will upload photos another time. Suffice it to say, I feel incredibly lucky to have seen him tonight and will take that as a sign that it is time to move on.

I am looking forward to this next phase. The silence has been purposeful and I have processed a lot of emotion. There is no underlying angst. Moving on feels right.

I spent the weekend completely focused on photography at a workshop held by Perry Conway, an incredible wildlife photographer, and landscape photographer Gary Haines. It was fun and interesting and the weekend flew by!

At the beginning, Perry explained that his intention was to help each of us get to the next level regardless of our starting point. Some of us were beginners and others had been shooting for years. I wondered how he would be able to manage the different levels and was amazed that he could cover all the basics without having it feel too basic. His personal attention to each of us out in the field coupled by a very detailed seminar with his awe inspiring nature photography slide show set the bar really high and kept me involved at a heightened level. I came away with a much deeper understanding of my camera, other essentials, and the environment in which I plan to spend more time shooting.

I was up at 3am on Sunday in order to meet up with the group by 5. We climbed Mt. Evans (by car) and then hiked down to an almost secret community of 1500-year-old trees at the crack of dawn. The light was spectacular. And it was much warmer than anticipated. I started shedding layers as I got deeper into the scene. Perry made a point of reminding us to pay attention to the things we might otherwise pass by. It kept me very open to things I might have dismissed as unimportant. Kind of a metaphor for what we tend to overlook in our daily lives.

After the trees, we drove to about 12,500 feet in search of "animals." To everyone's delight, we encountered a number of mountain goats and big horned sheep who tentatively trusted our proximity as we inched closer to their feeding ground. We drove to the tippy top at 14,000 feet. Cyclers were pedaling up this monster mountain by the dozens. I cannot believe how fit people are here in Colorado! I hope you enjoy these photographs as much as I did shooting them!

Yesterday I learned that there is a small ski area right here in Granby and during the summer it is open to mountain bikers. How did I miss this? There is so much here and I’ve barely scratched the surface – the nearby lakes and protected wilderness areas for hiking / fishing / cycling / mountain biking / nature photography / horseback riding / rafting all combine to make for an idyllic summer. Plus there are music festivals and farmer’s markets, friendly people and incredible weather. I will be back!

Life Is An Ad-Venture

It’s been a while since my last blog entry, and I have to say, things are quite different since then. I’m venturing out everywhere – hiking the hills around and beyond this beautiful piece of property, and I am amazed at how quickly I’ve adapted to the silence and the wilderness. The birds are singing their spring is here song! The daffodils are blooming and the buds on the aspens are opening. I can’t wait to see them shimmy in the sunlight. The moose haven’t shown up at my door for days – no doubt headed to higher ground now that the weather is warmer - but the deer are everywhere in the early evening and not too skittish. Chipmunks and squirrels scamper here and there foraging for food. Even the ants are busy rebuilding after a long cold winter.

I once read that there are thousands of life forms in a single scoop of soil. I can see that now. As I spend more time in nature, my respect for everything and everyone increases. We are so interconnected and interdependent. To see the life cycle in action is thrilling.

It’s hard to go to the grocery store now without thinking about where all this stuff comes from. The effort that goes into preparing the soil, planting the seed, harvesting the crops, processing the food, taking it to market. I am grateful to the animals who have made the ultimate sacrifice so that I might enjoy a meal.

Sometimes we don’t even know what we will get when we prepare the soil. Being here, stepping outside the familiar, has been like a soft voice that has been calling to me for years, hoping I would pay attention. I don’t know what awaits me as a result of this detour, but I am certain I am headed in the right direction. Doing what I love connects me deeper and deeper to a world that is right for me.

Other than email and my incessant ranting to Roxy, sometimes I go for days without speaking. It’s quite comfortable now. I enjoy being with just me. The guilt is gone. The need for a routine has vanished. The fear that had haunted me for a while has dissipated. I don’t require entertaining. And even though I miss the energy of certain people, I am quite content to be by myself. Of course that could be because I’m not really alone and this is temporary. But I’ve settled into the solitude and know that I will miss it when it is gone. To be able to do what I want, when I want. What a luxury!

Can you imagine? Eating and sleeping when you are hungry or tired rather than on a schedule. Working when it inspires you. Exercising when your body has the urge. Taking a walk or baking or painting or writing or reading or just exploring outside when the mood strikes you. And the best part is I actually get a lot done. I don’t think I do any less work with this kind of loosely defined structure. I’m quite productive. And enormously inspired. I spoke with a client yesterday and can’t wait to work on the new projects we discussed. Work is fun again! I think I'm giving telecommuting a whole new meaning…

That feeling that never used to leave me of having endless to do lists and never getting caught up has vanished. That stressful rush rush rushing about to complete this or that on deadline, the whole measurement of time thing is gone, and a weight has lifted. Sometimes I have to think hard to remember what day it is. Saturday is not necessarily a day off and Monday is not necessarily a work day.

This has shown me that there actually is quite a lot of time in the day. And that choosing a life is made up of lots of tiny choices every moment of every day. How did I get here? Steve Jobs once spoke to the graduating class of Stanford University about “connecting the dots” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D1R-jKKp3NA (please watch this!). And how when we look back on life, it all makes sense, but it is difficult to see the benefit of certain experiences, especially painful experiences, while we are going through them. Disappointments have a purpose. And we must trust in this and have faith while we navigate life’s challenges.

“Choose carefully,” my sister Cathy once advised me. “Your decisions will be felt for years to come.” Did I even know that I was laying the groundwork for a lifetime when I chose things like life partner, career, place to live? How many of these things did I do unconsciously, or even worse, how many did I do carelessly? I can think of more than a few…Do I have regrets? Some. But I am not taking those with me anymore. I am simply learning, letting go, and moving on.

My eyes are wide open now. There is no more time to waste. I will make time and space to continue this journey once I am back to living in a more “normal” situation. I will be still. I will not hold back out of fear. I will treasure my obligations. I will make space for the things I enjoy. I will spend time with those I love. I will listen to my heart and trust my instincts. I will venture out in nature to ensure that I am paying attention. And I will be more confident in my decisions.

I am reminded of Tim McGraw’s song “Live Like You Were Dying”. Every day brings us one step closer to death. So we might as well live as though it’s our last. Once you really feel that in your bones, decisions are easy. Having all this open time and space has certainly shown me life’s boundaries. Venture out!