As I Stare At Mt. Humphrey's - My Thoughts

Humphrey's rain
Originally uploaded by starryeyed_grl.

When I was a junior in high school, I had a daily calendar - one of the joke of the day kinds to keep me laughing through the deadlines (I had - or rather have- the ability to become so stressed by course work that my father actually offered to pay me to make an F and relax!). Anyway, one of the jokes sticks out in my mind, more because it is true than because it is particularly funny. Paul Reiser, in a rant about buying a CD player capable of playing music continually for 18 hours wrote:
“The problem is, they keep coming up with technology nobody asks for. They believe we want Freeze-Frame Search, and Split Screen, and 14-Day Timers. Clocks that make coffee and cameras that talk. We don’t want that. You know what I want? I just want to lie down. That’s really all I want. If I could lie down for a half-hour. That’s really all I want. If I could lie down for a half-hour, I’d be so happy. I’ve been reading instructions since 1987; my head is pounding. I can’t do it.... I want to write a letter. “Dear Japan, STOP!!! We’re fine. This is plenty of stuff. Why don’t you stop with the VCRs and work on diseases. Go cure a disease – I’m going to figure out my cordless phone”

That quote has stuck with me over the years, and has seemed a more and more urgent message in this age of I-pods and disposable toilet brushes. Why all this waste? Where will it all go? When is the stopping point? (As there must be a stopping point) When will we have enough?

A few years ago, Ted and I were in the Rocky Mountains, prepared for the peace and tranquility of the wilderness. Instead, we went from a tent site nestled among gigantic RVS running generators from 7AM-10PM, to a park bus leading us to the trail head to which we were prohibited from walking due to the danger of the road construction, to a trail watched over by men in hard hats with jackhammers, paving the way for future cars. While in the single file line leading from the bus to the trail, we were jostled by tourists with oversized video recorders and accosted with construction noise from all sides. Our company remained with us until they glimpsed the waterfall, whereupon most took family photos and returned to the bus. A zealous few climbed onto rocks to video a better shot of the rapids. We climbed upwards, miles and miles into the wilderness until we reached Storm Pass, utterly alone for the first time all day. At this moment, when the wind reddened our cheeks, when the clouds gathered threateningly over the pass, when the lake lapped against the shore - we felt at peace. Though nature was brewing a storm - we preferred the threatening thunder to the roar of generators, the wind through the trees to the jackhammers, the company of bears to the video happy tourists. I wanted to lie down - to breathe with the earth - because it is getting harder and harder to breathe in the cities that encroach from all sides. No matter how mighty the wilderness seems when you are caught in the elements - it is threatened from all sides by us - by our excesses - by excesses in which I myself am still overly compliant and reliant.

Edward Abbey, in an article entitled "Wild Horses" writes, "What words, what images, what memories, best evoke the essence of the American West? These are some of the first to come to mind: The odor of crushed sage in the hand. The fragrance of burning juniper. A mountain lion crouched on a canyon ledge. The word canyon itself. One black vulture soaring in lazy circles above the burning hills and ice-cream-tinted folds of the Painted Desert. Red mountains like mangled iron rising beyond dunes of gloden sand. Stone ruins nestled in an alcove of a cliff. The cry of a coyote - first one, then a second, then a chorus as a full moon the color of a blood orange sinks beyond the skyline. The aroma of burning mesquite. One dust devil spinning across an alkali flat. . . . Your first sight, at evening, of a file of slick, unbranded, unclaimed, tangle-mained and broomtailed mustangs coming off the ridge for water, old mare in the lead, the stallion at the rear. Wild ones. Wild horses."

And then there is the steaming asphalt of Phoneix, the crowd of SUVs on Highway 1 on the California Coast, the logging mills of Washington, overheated metal trailers lined across reservation land, the stench of a gutter, the sight of another clearing felled for the sake of another box store. But these sights we can see without wandering far from home - these scenes that we justify with the promise of progress, the hope of more jobs to come, the rationale of living with the ugliness of pavement, with the absence of grass, without the call of songbirds. When did we enter the fabled age of the Silent Spring? When bats fall from the skies in California (look at the news), when it is so warm that sparrows mistakenly hatch their young in March, when the glaciers have all but melted? But more than when it happened, I wonder what we can do to reverse the cresting tide before we are all lost at sea.

When the Iraq war first started, I often became frustrated with the peace protestors in the streets. Peace for whom? For us or those in the Middle East? Peace in Darfur? Peace in Isreal? Peace in Syria? In Lebanon? In North Korea? In Argentina? In Venezuela? These people have not known peace for many years. Why cry peace to the elected leaders? It is in our best interest to have war - until we remove the necessity for making war - which is want. Wars have always been fought to gain resources, land - and, most of all, power over these resources and over the people who produce the resources. If we truly want peace, as so many in the streets claim that they do, then we should all - all of us, all over the world - lie down in the streets - literally lie down - and post a big sign that says simply, "Stop." I am convinced that if we all laid there long enough, no sounds of cars in the background, no newscasters, no helicopters overhead, no commercials, no television, no radio, no food, no work, no factory emissions, no prisons, no talking, no buying, no fighting - nothing - if we could all just take a giant, collective breath with the earth - we would gain the rest and knowledge we need to begin again.

All I know is that the frenetic pace of the modern world cannot continue. It is costing us our sanity, our peace of mind, and our lives. We must stop.

As soon as I put this computer away, I will write a letter to myself. It will begin this way:

Dear Self:
Stop.
Unfettered growth is the enemy of progress. Love lies in the quiet places. If you are not willing to be quiet, if you are not willing to rest, then you will not grow. Stop. Be silent. Listen. And when you are finished listening, act out what you learned from the silence. And when the action prevents the silence, it is time to be silent again. This is the cycle of life - one cannot live long if one forgets to breathe. So - breathe - you are alive. Hope is power. And power is informed action, tempered with understanding and compassion.
You can begin again. We all can.

New York, New York

water hole
Originally uploaded by starryeyed_grl.

Well, it's finally happening! Everything seems to be falling in place for us to go to New York City in September. We've signed a rental agreement to sublet a beautiful apartment across from the City College of New York, complete with fireplaces in both the bedroom and the living room, a simple writing desk by the bedroom window, and our very own covered deck! Just in case I'm jinxing everything by posting this before Ted signs a contract with a New York hospital, everybody keep your fingers crossed that everything goes well with his job situation! For those of you who don't know, we're moving to New York because I secured an internship with the Human Rights Education division of Amnesty International. We'll be there for three months before (hopefully) transferring to San Francisco. Ted received an amazing offer to become a permanent staff member at Stanford, and the director of the HRE division of Amnesty told me I should be able to transfer to the San Francisco office with no problems. Two cross country moves in six months? No problem for two veteran travelers! :-)
Working for Amnesty, or at least working for a non-profit at a global or national level, has been my dream ever since I can remember. When I was young, I wanted to be a doctor in South America, traveling from village to village healing the sick. When I was older, I dreamed of joining the Peace Corps. During college, I wanted to work for the UN in order to help on a more global scale. Now, I have the opportunity to work with both Amnesty and the UN to contribute to educational reform on a fundamental level! I couldn't have dreamed of a better opportunity than the one I have been offered! And Ted has been offered the ultimate opportunity to sign on permanently with Stanford! It is an amazing time in our lives!
My Mom and Bill just came to stay with us for a week, and overlapped with Vonda, Ted, and Forrest, Ted's parents and younger brother, who stayed for two weeks! We spent the past three weeks traveling all over Arizona, having the Great Western Adventure of a lifetime! Dad is coming to stay with us in the middle of August, which means we will have seen almost all of our parents in Flagstaff. (Julia - we still wish you could come!) I'll post more about our family adventures later, but I just want to say - it was amazing to see everyone here in Arizona at our house. We miss you all! And Dad - we can't wait to see you in a few short weeks!

Blog By: Rebecca
Photo By: Ted (Taken at the park near our apartment in AZ)