What You Don't Hear May Hurt You

When people ask me what I do, I encounter a range of reactions from, "Oh, Amnesty. They helped me when I was going through a political struggle in the Philippines," to "That crazy human rights organization? Aren't you the ones that chained yourselves to that boat?" (That, for the record, was Greenpeace). But the most common reaction is, "If this stuff you're talking about is so important, why haven't I heard about it?" I ask myself that question all the time - why aren't more people hearing about human rights, the environment, and other pressing issues of our day? People like to talk about the liberal or conservative biases of news stations such as CNN and FOX, but the truth is that five for-profit companies control all the media and entertainment channels in the nation, compared to 50 companies in 1985 (See the Columbia Journalism Review for a complete list of who owns what), severely limiting our access to free and unbiased news from any media station.

So why does it matter if a small number of profit-driven corporations own all the media channels? Because media then becomes a ratings game designed to draw viewers, through whatever means necessary, in order to maximize returns for investors. Do media channels have the freedom to report on meaningful topics? Or does privatized media result in sanitized media? We can all argue about who watches FOX versus who watches CNN, but we would be missing the point. We should be asking, "What are we missing by watching mainstream media and how can we take back control of the press?" Attendees of the National Conference for Media Reform asked the same question and many more in Memphis last month. People are beginning to realize that the stories we hear repeated in the media shape the way we live our lives. What we hear becomes what we believe, as the stories we tell ourselves and others become our cultural mythology. What we believe becomes what we do, or what we don't do.

As I talk to people who report watching the news on a regular basis, I find that many of them believe that they are powerless to change the escalating crises faced by our world today. They report feeling depressed, as they believe that the world is on a fast track to destruction and that there is nothing that we can do to stop it. These are feelings fed by sensationalist news media and result from a vacuum of stories about positive steps that people are taking all over the world to change their situations. When the masses believe that they are powerless, they are, and that powerlessness only allows the powerful few to retain an unchecked control over world affairs. What would people's feelings be if they heard stories of hope? If they knew not just what to say no to, but what to say yes to? If they knew how to turn the brewing feeling of hopelessness and despair into positive action? If the stories we tell ourselves became stories of the people taking power?

Organizations such as Journalists for Human Rights, Freepress, and Yes! magazine are beginning to tell these stories. They face powerful opposition, however. For example, when I was in New York, a woman told me about her idea to develop a television show centered around the positive actions of youth, such as youth building homes for Habitat for Humanity, twenty-somethings traveling to the Gulf Coast to help rebuild, or young adults starting their own non-profits and community initiatives. When she pitched the idea to MTV, they turned down the idea before she was finished presenting because "that's not what teenagers want to watch." Another woman I met who works for a national television network said that her boss asked her during a meeting to "develop ideas for showing more tits and ass" because "that's what people want to see." What other stories are we missing because companies believe that the way to retain viewers is by more sensationalist or "reality" television?

A few stories you may not have heard about this year:
1. 350 families who farm one of the largest urban gardens in the United States, a 14-acre plot of land in the middle of a manufacturing district in South Central LA, were forcibly evicted from their "survival plots" to make way for a new manufacturing plant, despite the fact that supporters of the farm offered to pay the $16 million asking price to purchase the land for the community. The owner, Ralph Horowitz, who ordered all the heirloom plants to be uprooted and crushed, claims that the manufacturing plant will provide jobs for this underemployed area. The residents claim that they will not have enough to eat, and that their only community meeting place has been destroyed. The farmers, however, are not giving up, and have continued to garner support for a new community garden space as well as to fight for their rights. The farmers said that a stronger community formed because of the struggle, and that they are now living the democratic process (South Central Farmers). The America we believe in stands up for equal rights for all its citizens - including the right to an adequate standard of living. We deserve community spaces, the right to deny that industrial growth is the best thing for our communities, and to affirm the community's right to choose what is best for that community.

2. Many people agree that the educational system is in disarray. Even mainstream media is happy to report on the failures of our nation's schools. We constantly hear about failing test scores, unqualified teachers, lack of textboooks, crumbling buildings, dwindling parental involvement, school shootings, metal detectors, and more. But have you heard about the communities who are joining together to change the situation? ICOPE, The Independent Commission On Public Education, is a coalition of parents, teachers, and students working together to redesign New York City Public School system so that it respects and educates about human rights (ICOPE). Schools in Olympia, WA, Berkeley, CA, and many other areas are designing curriculum around the production and distribution of food as well as creating spaces for school gardens (Rethinking Schools and The Edible Schoolyard). Despite the devastation caused by Hurricane Katrina, teachers in the Gulf Coast region are bringing the community together by dedicating themselves to reopening schools and providing education, no matter the obstacles (Teach NOLA). Many more stories like this never reach the public discussion about the state of education in the USA. The America we believe in respects the right to free, public, quality education that honors human rights.

About a year ago, I considered creating a magazine dedicated to these stories of hope. I see people's need for these stories - stories of people claiming their power as citizens and human beings to create change. To go back to the original question - what do I do? I am an activist for change and I am a proponent of hopeful action. And what do I believe? I believe in the power of the people to do amazing things. This world is not lost until hope is lost. Seek out positive news stories so that together we can refashion the stories that we tell one another and change our communities! When you hear of positive news stories in your area, or stories you think others should hear, please e-mail me or post a comment on this blog. I promise that I will make sure others hear the stories, too. Looking forward to hearing from you!

Magic Moments

"Have you ever had one of those moments when you remember you are alive? You know, one of those moments when you are completely present in the moment and totally aware of your surroundings? A moment of absolute clarity?"
"I think so," my roommate replied. "Did you just have one of those moments?"

As a matter of fact, the past few days have been filled with those moments! Let me set the scene for you:
I have just walked in from work. I am wearing a silk printed skirt I bought from a funky clothing store in downtown Flagstaff, a black turtleneck, dangly silver earrings, and black boots. Ted, who has almost finished regrowing his beard, is playing me what he calls "my song"("Sugar Magnolia") on guitar, and the smell of stuffed bell peppers is wafting from the oven. All of a sudden it dawns on me, "I live in California. I have an amazing husband who taught himself guitar, and he is serenading me with a Grateful Dead song ("my song"). I have a wonderful home. I work for Amnesty International. The house smells like incense and peppers, and I am living the dream I have had of my life since I was young. Amazing!"

And in that moment all of the striving, the worrying, the desire that stays with us because we are human stopped, and a sense of clarity and satisfaction permeated my soul. "I am who I have always wanted to be. I have all that I have always wanted to have," I thought to myself. The world was distilled down to the scene in my living room, and all became clear for a moment. All seemed right with the world. These moments are what we live for - those moments when we feel awake and alive. And it seems to me that I might be living those moments all the time if I would discipline myself to be more aware, to be more awake.

For the past few years I have challenged myself to write down five things I have to be thankful for each day. A glimpse of my list over the past three days:
1. Ted and Alison playing "Going to California" on guitar until midnight, a candle burning in the corner of the room illuminating their hands as they pluck and strum the strings.
2. A simple dinner with friends - the scent of fresh parsley as I shred it into the rice, juicy grape tomatoes, flaky tilapia, fresh succulent strawberries, homemade whipped cream with a hint of organic sugar, easy conversation, a little violin and guitar, and laughter.
3. Planting the garden - rich black dirt in my hands, the faith of planting seeds - trusting that they will yield food to sustain us, the thrill of choosing containers, the joy of knowing we can have a garden even if we are surrounded by concrete, knowing that life will find a way everywhere.
4. Seeing the lightbulb moment for my students when I tutor
5. Sunshine after a week of rain

What five things are you thankful for today?

How To Regain Our Humanity: The Story of Ishmael Beah

When I was in New York, I had the opportunity to attend a closed session at the UN regarding future policy on children and armed conflict. The session was arranged by Jimmie Briggs, UN goodwill ambassador concerning issues of child soldiers and author of Innocents Lost . Zlata Filipovic, author of Stolen Voices, and Ishmael Beah, author of A Long Way Gone, the invited panelists, both 26 years old and born within 10 days of one another, spoke with wisdom and clarity about their experiences as children in the midst of two simultaneous conflicts in the early 1990s: Bosnia and Sierra Leone. As someone of the same age born during peace time in an affluent country, it was compelling to consider the different paths our lives had taken simply because of where we were born. Yet despite the varying roads that led us there, we were all gathered in the same room together at the UN because we feel compelled to raise awareness, to offer hope, to be a light in the darkness. Throughout the course of my journeys, I have met many young people alive with hope for the world, passionate about the fact that we will move through these turbulent times to a time of great peace. Listening to Zlata and Ishmael speak about surviving conflict with dignity and hope intact reinforced my own belief that the world is not beyond repair.

As a former child soldier forced to commit horrible acts of violence in Sierra Leone, Ishmael understands what it means to lose his humanity. After being rehabilitated by one of the organizations dedicated to rescuing child soldiers, he began his journey of recovery and found a new home in the United States with a host family. When he was in college, one of his professors assigned the class to write about how they played as children. For Ishmael, a favorite childhood game was guessing what type of gun was firing in the distance, a scenario his fellow classmates found understandably hard to comprehend. Because his fellow students expressed such an interest in his experiences as a child soldier, Ishmael realized that he could raise awareness through telling his story. Writing his memoir did not, however, come without a cost, as he had to relive the past he had fought hard to forget in order to write with detailed honesty. The result of his soul searching is a genuinely beautiful and unforgettable book whose central message is not about the depraved nature of man, but about man's ability to retain hope and regain humanity, even in the midst of unimaginable devastation and conflict.

Both Zlata and Ishmael spoke of the resiliency of the human spirit, the intense desire to live and to find happiness wherever one can. Zlata kept a diary in order to survive the devastating bombing in her hometown of Sarajevo in 1993. The urge to document, she said, arises from hope. One writes in order to stay sane, to try to make sense of one's surroundings. Though Ishmael could not keep a diary, he echoed Zlata's sentiments when he talked about his continued belief that the war would end soon. Each day he and his friends would say that the war would end, and each day when they went to sleep, they believed that the war would end the next day. That belief, that hope, helped him carry on.

During his speech at the UN, Ishmael recalled witnessing people he had known his whole life turn into killers seemingly overnight. Though the civil war stemmed from a desire to overthrow a corrupt government, the citizens of Sierra Leone soon became caught in a web of dueling propaganda. During his interview with Jon Stewart, Ishmael said that both the government and the rebel forces recruited soldiers, including children, using the exact same propaganda. Both advocated violence and revenge, and insisted that the other side was the cause of all the misery in the country. The people caught in the middle wanted the violence to end, but they did not know whom to fight or whom to trust and were easily manipulated by recruiters. People committed acts of violence of which they never would have thought themselves capable before the war, including Ishmael and many people he knew.

Despite being both a victim and a perpetrator of violence, Ishmael believes that human beings are capable of regaining their humanity. Training someone to become a killer is easy, he said, but the journey to regain your spirit and humanity is infinitely harder. Ishmael is just one example of someone who has been successful in that journey - his love for life, warm smile, and soulful eyes invite shared belief in the resiliency of the human spirit. The fact that he retains his smile and laughter despite all that he has been through is a testament to what we are all capable of doing: renewing ourselves and believing that the world can be saved, as Ishmael was, through the dedication and hope of collective action.

According to the UN, there are over 300,000 child soldiers (soldiers under the age of 18) fighting for both government and rebel forces throughout the world. If you are interested in learning more about what is being done both to prevent the recruitment of child soldiers and to rehabilitate former child soldiers, review the links listed at the end of this post. This post, however, is not just a call to action on the issue of children and armed conflict, but a call to believe in the power of renewal and our collective ability to regain our humanity as a nation and as a planet. When we have hope, we have the possibility of a better tomorrow. Without hope, we have nothing. So here's to the courage and bravery of Ishmael - another reason for hope.

Ishmael's book was recently released, and he is currently on a promotional speaking tour to publicize the book and raise awareness about the use of child soldiers in modern conflicts. Click on the link to the left under "Rebecca's Recommended Articles and Videos" to watch Jon Stewart's moving interview of Ishmael on the Daily Show.

Organizations Rescuing Child Soldiers:
Save The Children
The International Rescue Committee
Childsoldier.org
Amnesty International
Human Rights Watch
UNICEF

To See is To Love: A Valentine's Day Reflection

The other day I was listening to a song by the Indigo Girls entitled "Love's Recovery" about a couple who stayed together through difficult times while other couples they knew separated "in search of fairer weather." When the couple moved past the idea of love's perfection and made the decision to stay together, they began the path of learning to see each other and celebrated "love's discovery." The song illustrated that no matter how often one seeks a "better relationship," a point will always arise when the initial superficial love fades and learning to love more deeply begins.

Love requires learning to see the other person for who they are, not who we would like them to be. When we love someone, we expect him or her to fill a certain role, and are often surprised and shaken when the person steps outside that role. We have, for example, probably all come to a point in our lives when we realized that our mothers are also women. Moving past the idea of loving them just because they are our mothers and allowing them to be women with their own interests, hopes, and desires opens a point of entry for a more fulfilling relationship and enables them to more actively pursue their own dreams.

When we go through life expecting other people to stay the same, or do not allow them to grow into different roles, then we basically render them invisible. Not only does that limit their growth, but it also limits your growth. Who knows how another person may change and grow, and, in turn, how you may change and grow? The fear of this growth, however, stems from the questions, "What if we grow apart? What if he/she changes and realizes he/she doesn't need me anymore? What if I don't like who he/she becomes? What if love fades?" Fear poisons relationships. Sometimes change is slow, sometimes change is painful, but part of loving someone is allowing them to be human, allowing them to try things and fail, allowing them to be different than the people we once knew, allowing them to explore themselves. Consider this: growth begets growth. Trapping someone in a certain role will cut the oxygen from the relationship. The fires of passion need oxygen (and thereby space) to continue to burn.

A week or so ago, my friend asked me what my goals are. I thought for a moment, and then went through the list (river rafting, learning to fiddle, hiking the American Discovery trail, learning to let go of worry, and so on). She nodded as I listed each goal, but looked up with surprise when I said, "Staying married to Ted for the rest of my life." "Does that count as a goal?" she asked. I think what she meant was, "Isn't it a given that if you get married you will want to stay together for the rest of your life? Does it really need to be a separate goal?" In my mind, it does.

My goal is to love Ted, "see" Ted, and express my love to him in varying ways so that he knows he has a strong foundation of love from which to grow. Because it is my goal, I have to consciously think through the steps I should take to achieve the goal. When I review my goals each week to make sure that my actions for the week reflect my goal, I also think about our relationship. This constant reflection and examination helps me keep Ted and the health of our relationship at the forefront of my mind, ensuring that I give it the attention it deserves. I ask myself, "How can I "see" him better? How can I foster his goals and help him to succeed? How can I be more open to change? How can I be a better listener? In what ways can I express my love this week?"

The same friend who was asking about my goals also asked what Ted and I were like five years ago, before we were married. Her question made me think of all the adventures we've had together, all the ways in which we've changed because of one another, and all the varying interests we have pursued. Though we are both quite different people than we were when we met, we are both happier, more self-confident, and more alive than we ever have been! And life seems to get better by the day! Ted is learning to play guitar, I am learning to play fiddle, and we are both planning and designing the garden. Ted is starting his own photography business, and I am publishing my writing. We both read constantly and share what we've learned with each other. And we constantly encourage each other to venture outside, spend time with friends, and enjoy life. We often tell each other that we are one another's balance. Because of our mutual support, encouraging words, and foundation of love, we have been able to grow into individuals of which we can be proud!

But learning to "see" other people doesn't stop with learning to see my partner. Over the last few months, I have tried to let go of my idea of what certain roles should entail, or the ways that certain people should act. I am constantly surprised that people I have known for years are in fact very different than the people I thought they were, because I blinded myself to other aspects of their personalities by refusing to see past the roles they had always played in my life. My relationships are becoming richer as I learn to appreciate all that others have to offer! So Happy Valentine's Day, and here's to learning to "see" one another!

Finding Community

After a long absence, I am back to posting! I was so busy writing for my internship with Amnesty that I had no time left over to post . . . And then we moved back across the country to San Francisco! But now we are settled and are actually planning to be in one place for more than three months, meaning we have a more regular schedule. It's hard to believe we've already been here for over a month, and that if we were still traveling, we'd be halfway through our assignment! While we were traveling, our goal was to experience as much of the location as possible before moving on the the next assignment. While we still want to experience all that the Bay Area has to offer, we also want to experience the feeling of belonging to a community. We want to become involved in the area and be able to put down at least a few roots, start a garden, bike to work, join local groups, go to the community center, get to know our neighbors . . . So, here are the things we have done to get to know our community so far. Through these links you can get to know our community too!

[We often talk about walking through the door of opportunity. Ted took the above photo in Greenwich Village this fall]

The first things I wanted to know:
1) Where/how do we recycle? To find out, I went to www.earth911.org, which allowed me to look up recycling services by zip code, including what types of glass, plastics, and other wastes are recycled in our area. I also went to www.freecycle.org to join the local freecycle group whose mission is to "build a worldwide gifting movement that reduces waste, saves precious resources & eases the burden on our landfills while enabling our members to benefit from the strength of a larger community." The only rule is that everything posted on the site must be entirely free. So far, I have picked up homemade cards and a set of wine glasses. More about my Freecycle experiences coming in a later blog! (I promise that there will be a later blog!)

2) Where can I take violin lessons? To find a violin teacher, I went to www.craigslist.org, which is an online classifieds site. We found our apartment in New York through this website as well. I found a quality violin teacher through the site, and just returned from my third lesson! Today I learned a basic Bluegrass tune, and my teacher promised that if I perfected the basic tune by next lesson, she would teach me how to make it sound more "bluegrassy" (for lack of a better term). While I'm sure my neighbors are about to pull their hair out with all the practicing, I am enjoying learning an instrument I've always wanted to play. I have grand visions of playing fiddle on the back porch while watching my garden grow :-)

3) Where is the closest community grocery store? One of you may know a quick way to find this information online, but I relied on the phonebook. I knew I didn't want to go to one of the larger supermarkets, so I made a list of other groceries close by, visited, and then found one that I liked. Of course, I am also lucky enough to live within three miles of a Trader Joe's, a Whole Foods, and a Fresh Market in case I need anything the local store doesn't carry. As I've said in previous posts, I enjoy getting to know my butcher, my grocer, and the people who shop when I do. Shopping for food should be a pleasure rather than a headache, and I almost always reward myself (and Ted) with a jar of Strauss milk whenever I visit the grocery. Ted loves to lick the cream from the top of the milk jar!

4) When/where is the local farmer's market? To find this, I typed in the name of my city + "farmer's market" in Google. Again, because I live in California, I have several markets from which to choose. Our farmer's market is every Sunday afternoon, and draws a good crowd. After reading an article about buying local in this month's copy of Yes! magazine (www.yesmagazine.org), I followed their advice and searched for a CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) on www.localharvest.org. (Belonging to a CSA or farmer's cooperative ensures you a weekly or monthly delivery of fresh produce from a local farm). I found Live Earth Farm (www.liveearthfarm.com) located in Watsonville, CA, which provides a basket of food per week for $23. Recipes and a weekly newsletter come with the basket (See the website for past issues). I spent a whole afternoon looking over past recipes and farm talk!

5) Where is the closest/best local coffee shop? You know how much we like coffee! We've tried a few so far, but our favorite is still the Palo Alto Cafe, whose lattes, bagels, and warm convivial atmosphere are hard to beat! We did, however, branch out when we were in Half Moon Bay to try what the local papers call "The Best Chai West of Bombay." Though I've never been to Bombay, it was the best chai I've tried in the United States! MMMM. . . . Followed by a walk on Montara Beach . . . What could be better?

6) Where is the library? Easy enough to find both in the phone book and online. We've already checked out about 20 books on topics ranging from the environmental movement, to sustainable home design, to organic gardening, to Edward Abbey, to Sartre. Books of the month to recommend: Black Sun ( and Desert Solitaire by Edward Abbey, The Things We Keep by Elizabeth Berg, The Art of Natural Building by Joseph Kennedy, and The Bountiful Container by McGee and Stuckey.

7) Where is the community center? Also easy to find and a great place to sign up for continuing education classes, community groups, and use of a heated swimming pool!

8) What is the best bike path to take to get to work? For this route and ideas about local mountain biking trails, I went to www.pedaling.com. I haven't taken the bike to work yet as it has been raining non-stop. (I know that isn't an excuse for you hard-core peddlers out there, but I'm just not there yet :-) The rain is supposed to stop after Wednesday though!

9) How can I get more involved in the community? I went to www.idealist.org
to find out more about local groups. Fortunately, I came to the area just in time to attend the inaugural meeting of the San Jose Idealist group! 50 or so non-profit leaders and community members attended to find out how they could all collaborate to ensure effective and efficient community service. How thrilling it was to be in a room full of like minded individuals who truly want to be part of a community, especially a face to face interactive community! While I will post more about this meeting in another blog, you can check out photos and videos of the first meeting at: http://siliconvalley.wikia.com/wiki/Idealist.org_Silicon_Valley_-_Start-up_Meeting_Feedback
Check out photos of me talking with other Arts and Education folks!

So, these are the people and places in my neighborhood that I know so far. Who are the people in your neighborhood?

Fall Fences

Fall Fences
Originally uploaded by starryeyed_grl.

Autumn in Manhattan. Get online and see some of Ted's photos. They are amazing! I've been busy with my job at Amnesty - trying to get used to the 9-5 routine, and loving every minute of the work! So far we have met Bill Clinton, gone to two private movie screenings, and attended one $25,000 a plate benefit for an organization called Speak Truth To Power. Not bad for a month and a half in the big apple! I'm going to Chicago to present at a regional conference this weekend, but am looking forward to posting more now that we are finally getting into a bit of a routine. It was hard to get adjusted to life in a big city, a new job for both of us, and a three hour time change - but we're finally settling in.
One more bit of good news - an article I wrote about Olympia is appearing in a three page spread in the November issue of Healthcare Traveler. Check out the online article at: http://www.healthcaretraveler.com/healthcaretraveler/article/articleDetail.jsp?id=385523

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)

Color Theory

Butterfly
Originally uploaded by starryeyed_grl.

About a month ago, I was sitting with Ted watching a fire burn in our fireplace in Olympia, when I began to think about the nature of color. I thought back to an elementary school science experiment when we held a crystal up to a window to catch the sunlight. In amazement, we watched as the prism radiated all the colors of the rainbow! I know now that the prism merely reflected the colors that exist all around us at all times, and that an opaque object absorbs colors, thereby appearing dark. But what I still do not understand is how we are able to see so many colors at the same time!?! Think about it - all colors exist at all times, but we do not perceive all colors at all times. Instead, we see an incredibly complex array of colors and shades, which we can perceive and discern simultaneously. In fact, if we looked at a wall containing all the colors of the world, we would be able to perceive all the various shades all at the same time with no trouble! What an incredible feat!
And yet, behind the colors that we do see are all the colors that we do not see. For example, if we look at a dark blue couch, we do not see all the colors that the couch absorbed to appear dark blue. But those colors still exist! Behind everything seen is a whole array of things that are unseen!
This concept was reinforced to me on our flight back from Memphis to Seattle. Seattle, like Eor from Winnie the Pooh, always seems to have a grey cloud hanging over it, as those of you who live near there can attest :-) But as we were flying towards Seattle, all we could see was a brilliant sunny sky framing the low hanging grey clouds. Though the people on the ground could not perceive the beautiful blue sky - it was there just above the clouds. Behind everything seen is a whole array of things that are unseen!
I find this thought wonderfully comforting! Imagine walking out on a rainy, cloudy day. The sky is oppressively low and dark, the rain pounding, everyting cast in a pallor of gloom. Of course, you might feel overcast as well. But all is not as it seems! Above the clouds is a sunny sky, just waiting for the clouds to pass before it can become visible!
We should always question what is lying just beyond the edges of our perceptions - just behind the veil of what we can see and what we think we know. We may just find all the colors of the rainbow!

Posting By: Rebecca
Photo By: Ted (taken in California)

What If?

Evening View from Campground
Originally uploaded by starryeyed_grl.

What would happen if everyone recycled at least the bare essentials?
What would happen if everyone switched the lightbulbs in their homes to the new energy efficient kind?
What would happen if half the people who owned a home had a compost pile?
What would happen if half the population grew their own vegetables?
What would happen if half the population bought only organic foods?
What would happen if everyone carpooled to work?
What would happen if every car was a hybrid?
What would happen if we all drove fifty miles less per week and walked to get the essentials?
What would happen if we all exercised outside?
What would happen if jet skis and snowmobiles were also hybrid?
What would happen if everyone planted one tree?
What would happen if everyone turned the water off while they were brushing their teeth?
What would happen if everyone switched to energy safe appliances?
What would happen if we all stopped investing money in throw away technology?
What happens to the clothes in clothing stores when no one buys them?
What happens to the food in supermarkets if no one buys it?
Is it really cost effective to throw the food away?
Is it hurting anyone to give it away?
What would happen if McDonald’s and other fast food chains stopped putting plastic toys in their meals?
What would happen if cities only allowed one type of each store per 50,000 people?
What would happen if people stopped using plastic diapers and more diaper cleaning services were available?
What would happen if all the hydrogen being produced from nuclear waste were harvested for energy?
What would happen if everyone had solar paneling?
What would happen if people built only what they needed, not what they wanted?
What would happen if every town had a farmer’s market?

Serious Questions - Let me know if you come up with any answers! If we all put our minds together - I bet we could come up with at least a few solutions!

Posting By: Rebecca

A Book Review and My Thoughts

Writing the Next Great American Novel
Originally uploaded by starryeyed_grl.

I was looking through some of my old writing for magazine ideas, and stumbled upon a book review I wrote this past September. It is a testament to how powerfully the book affected me that I wrote pages and pages about the thoughts it inspired. I've included an excerpt of the review here. This entry is a little more personal than usual - but the book touched me and it might touch someone else as well - so here goes.

September 14, 2005

Last night I read the book "The Myth of You and Me" by Leah Stewart. It moved me and touched me in a way that few books do. Sonia and Cameron had been friends since they were 14, but the close friendship ended tragically eight years later when Sonia confessed she had slept with Owen, Cameron’s college boyfriend. Eight years later, shortly before her wedding, Sonia attempted to contact Cameron, who was working for Oliver Doucet, a famous historian, as a live-in caretaker and research assistant. After Oliver died, he left instructions for Cameron to contact Sonia in order to deliver a mysterious package. Her curiosity peaked, Cameron left Oxford and headed to Boston, ostensibly to find Sonia and deliver the package. Cameron ends up back at the same fork in the road that she faced eight years before, and is forced to relive all the moments that led to her decision to end her friendship with Sonia. Over several days, she begins to heal old wounds and stir up old relationships. In a sense, she returns to the fork in the road and chooses the other direction.

Stewart talks a great deal about the fact that many truths coexist at the same time. Life is not linear, as most people view it, but like a string that continuously crosses over itself and reconnects. She theorizes that the end result is evident in every choice, and that once a choice is made, a new, alternate life forms alongside our own, in which the opposite choice was made. Though I have heard this theory before, it was not compelling to me until now. Each fork in the road would have an infinite number of forks alongside it. Stewart also discusses the fact that it is impossible to ever know all sides of a person because each person is a world. I find this thought to be immensely comforting. In each of us lies the destruction and creation of a world. Which path we take becomes a matter of choices converged with circumstance. No, more it is a matter of choice. Many bad things happen to people who choose to remain basically good, and many good things happen to people who choose to become derelict. It is not that some people have better luck than others, merely that some people have better attitudes. Is a good attitude an inherent personality trait? I think not. I choose to believe we are all blessed with the ability to choose how we want to act, despite whatever circumstances may have befallen us at whatever age. From then on, life is about continually choosing the best attitude. Many people do not want to believe that life is a series of choices, but instead choose to believe that life is a series of good or bad things that happen to them. In this view, they bear no personal responsibility for their actions or reactions. It is an easier view to be sure. I personally like the complexity and responsibility of the former view.

I began thinking about all the different choices I have made in my life, and all the different people I could have become as a result of these choices. The possibilities are infinite! All of my choices and attitudes have led me here - to an apartment in Palo Alto, California, agonizing over writing, and chasing the days away with the love of my life, as we explore all that the world has to offer us. At times, I think I have been very lucky indeed. But I also realize that I am here because I chose to be here all along. I am still choosing. Where will I be in five years? I have no idea, but I do know that where I will be is beginning now, in the decision to stay in today to write, in the decision to be mindful of the moment, in the decision to be aware of my blessings, in the decision to be aware of other’s needs, and the decision to be aware of our connectedness to the world.

Ted and I have often stayed up late imagining versions of our lives together. A few of our favorites:
Version One- Nomadic adventurers - We do travel nursing until we save up enough to have a good nest egg. We hike the entire Appalachian trail before joining the Peace Corps. After returning, we work for Doctors Without Borders, he as an FNP, and I as a coordinator and UN liaison. As a hobby, we work for National Geographic, detailing our travels, Ted with photos and I with words. When we do want to settle down, we move to a small North Carolina town, or possibly Rogersville. I teach and work part time in the coffee shop that we both own. He works at the shop full time. We adopt several children and own a self-sustaining farm. Both of us continue to do freelance work.

Version Two - A variation of Version One, but diverging after hiking the AT. Ted goes to school to become a FNP. I go to school to major in International Relations. I work for a nonprofit, while Ted works for a rural clinic. We have children. Eventually, we open a coffee shop and own a self-sustaining farm while doing some freelance work. We continue to travel the world for fun.

There are many versions of these plans, but all with the basic thrust of traveling, helping others, and owning a coffee shop or a self-sustaining farm. In some versions, our son is Byron Charles. In others, he is Gabriel. In others, Isaiah. Our daughter is Isabelle, or Zara, or Elizabeth. In some versions, we have no children at all. The best part of all these versions is the pleasure we derive from dreaming together of all these different lives, all our different selves. All the different roads we could take together. And we know, even in the midst of these plans, that life can change in a moment, that we are not guaranteed the breath of tomorrow. And yet we dream, because we can and because we hope, and because we trust.

I try to imagine sometimes what life would be like if Ted were to suddenly die tomorrow, in the same way that mothers try to picture losing their children, in an effort to somehow prepare for an almost inevitable blow. I try to picture myself getting out of bed, making myself get a job, sorting out the bills, eating meals that all taste bland. Once you have found your other half, it is difficult to imagine being alone again. Perhaps in this version of my life I would still travel overseas, join the Peace Corps, and basically continue along as in Version One, except without the coffee shop, and perhaps with fewer adopted children. I really don’t know. I pray that Ted and I will be able to go on like we are now, hand in hand, for as long as we both shall live, which is hopefully to the same exact moment, although I know that the chances of us both dying at the same time are slim. And yet, when one or the other of us goes, the one who remains still has choices about how he or she will live. We can choose to get out of bed in the morning and face the day. We can choose to go on, as a testimony to the strength of our love.
Life does not happen to us - we mold our lives. I, for one, will continue choosing to be happy. And alive. And in love.

Lee's Ferry Hike

View of the Colorado River from the top of the Spencer Trail
Originally uploaded by starryeyed_grl.

In the hiker's paradise of northern Arizona, every day counts, especially when you only have three months to explore all that the area has to offer. Because the Coconino National Forest, which includes Sunset Crater, the Wupatki Ruins, Mt. Humphreys, Mt. Elden, and most other trails near us, is closed due to the Brins Fire, we decided to drive two hours north to Lee's Ferry for a weekend of camping and hiking the first chance we got. Situated off Route 89A just past the Navajo Bridge is the Lee's Ferry recreation area, a remote park which marks the point where the Paria River joins the Colorado River and also affords breathtaking views of the mouth of the Grand Canyon - if you're willing to climb a few strenuous trails.

Even though we got an early start on Saturday morning, we did not arrive at the campground until noon, which translates into triple digit desert heat. We set up the tent and waited for the harsh afternoon sun to fade before setting out on the Spencer Trail - a three mile round trip vertical climb to the top of a 4,740 foot plateau. From the ground we could not see the trail, or even the top of the plateau. All that we could see was a 1,560 foot red rock towering over the winding Colorado River. I started to have second thoughts about the climb, but the guide book assured us that the top afforded incredible views of the river valley. Anything for a photo, right? Any time we feel intimidated by a trail, we pretend that we're members of a National Geographic photography team. Do you think those guys get those incredible photos by sticking to the comfortable trails? No way! In fact, when we visited Washington, D.C., we stopped by the National Geographic museum where we saw an underwater photo of a trout swimming through an Alasakan stream. The photographer wrote that he waited for hours IN the freezing stream to get that shot. Needless to say, we were willing to climb 1.5 miles up a trail to reach the promised views.

Though we had each come prepared with a gallon of water, we were not prepared for the intensity of the heat. Within ten minutes, the cool water in our Nalgene bottles was steaming hot, and the heat settled on us in unrelenting waves. There was no way that we could make the climb even in the late afternoon, as there were no water sources or shaded areas along the trail. Reluctantly, we turned back for the day with a resolution to awake early and try again. The rest of the afternoon was spent lounging on the white sands of the Paria beach, immersing ourselves in the chilly Colorado River, and watching rafters float by on their way towards Phantom Ranch.
At four thirty the next morning, we awoke to an amazing sunrise bathing the cliffs in soft red light. We sat for a while enjoying the sunrise before heading back to the Spencer Trail. Already the day was warm, but bearable, as the side of the cliff was still covered in shade. As we climbed steadily upward and navigated the loose rocks, we were rewarded with increasingly grand views of the valley below - red rock reflected in the river, stretches of buttes and canyon valleys, the winding blue and green of the Colorado River. Darting lizards, desert flowers, odd rock formations, and steep drop-offs punctuated the trail. At several points in the trail, we could not see where the trail led next, or where we had been previously due to the vertical nature of the climb. We hugged the cliff walls until we reached the top of the plateau.

Upon reaching the summit - we felt we were on top of the world! In one direction, we could see the beginning of the Grand Canyon and the winding Colorado, in the other we could see the Echo and Vermillion Cliffs, Lake Powell, and Navajo Mountain. All along the ridge were cairns, or rock piles, left by previous hikers to mark the summit. We added our own rocks to commemorate the occasion.

Though we could have sat for hours, we knew that we had to be back by ten in order to make the descent before the heat of the day set in. Reluctantly, we gathered the camera equipment and made our way back down the trail. We could still see rafters preparing to go down river and fishermen heading upstream to catch trout. The colors of the place are so vivid - as though a veil has been pulled away to reveal their true colors. Never have I see such blue sky or such red rock - the pictures, as stunning as they are, do the scene no justice!

After an afternoon of playing in the river, we headed back home - and none too soon. The day after we returned, the Forest Service closed down route 89A due to the raging North Rim fire. The Brins Fire (near Sedona) is now nearly 90% contained, but the North Rim fire is still steadily burning. Although the South Rim is still open, the entire canyon is fillled with smoke from the fire. Everybody should pray for rain, as that is probably going to be the only thing that will stop the wildfires from consuming the drought ridden Southwest! We live up on a mesa, and the fires have not come near Flagstaff, so you don't need to worry about us. We're more worried about the state of the forests and anxiously awaiting the reopening of the Coconino National Forest. Can't wait to see all of you who are coming to visit! Don't worry - we'll find something to do around here. You're probably breathing a sigh of relief that we can't take you hiking. HaHa!

We miss you all!

Posting By: Rebecca
Photo By: Ted

New Website for Ted's Photos

First, let me apologize for not posting sooner. I haven't forgotten about everyone who checks the site every day hoping for a new posting. During our week out of town, we had no internet access, and this week we've had trouble uploading Ted's photos. We finally figured out the problem - and a solution. Because Ted is hoping to get some of his work published, he has started taking photos in raw format, which is too large a format to post on this blog site. On our last hiking trip, he took some photos in fine format so that I could post them here, but that format is also incompatible with this site. Instead of trying to take shots in simple format, we've decided to post his photos on another website so that you can look at more photos and view them in a higher resolution. The website is:
www.flickr.com/photos/infinitehorizons/

I will add this website as a link in the sidebar as well. So far we've only uploaded the photos of our most recent hike to Lee's Ferry and our trip last summer to Santa Fe. We'll add more as we have time. Since we will be maintaining a separate photo page, I won't have to deal with the frustrations of posting photos on this blog, which should free up more time to post. E-mail me if you have any trouble accessing the new website, and I'll try to fix the problem. Enjoy all the new photos! Also, the blog site sometimes takes a day to show my new postings on the front page. If you don't see a new posting, go down to the Archives list on the sidebar, and click the current month. The new postings will then appear on the screen. Hope you like today's post about the Lee's Ferry Hike!
Posting By: Rebecca

Flying Home

We're sitting in the Phoenix airport waiting for our plane to Knoxville, looking out at the rocky peaks in the Phoenix horizon and discussing all the airports we've flown out of just this year alone: San Francisco, Memphis, Knoxville, Salt Lake City, Houston, Dallas, Chicago, and Atlanta. Shouldn't we be getting some frequent flyer miles by now? Small planes, large planes, planes that serve meals, planes that don't, planes with passengers squeezed in like cattle, and planes with leather reclining seats - all the options that United States airline travel offers. In this age of easy travel - where we can fly from 116 degree arid desert heat to 90 degree humidity - from miles of red rock to acres of lush forest - all in a day's travel, it's easy to forget what an amazing feat it is to propel a muti-ton steel plane into the air, keep it as well as all the passengers and luggage aloft, and fly at an altitude as high or higher than the peaks of Mt. Everest. Mankind can do incredible things!
Among these incredible feats is man's ability to reflect on and imrove upon past actions. Those who travel frequently have begun to think about the environmental impact of traveling, and have begun to develop solutions to offset the negative effects of flying. One of the most exciting developments is the idea of offsetting carbon emissions by investing in things that absorb carbon. For example, Al Gore, who travels frequently to lecture on global warming, offsets the carbon he produces through flying by investing in mango groves in India. The women in Indian villages benefit from planting a sustainable and marketable crop, and the environment benefits because the mango trees absorb carbon. (Check out this month's Wired magazine for the complete article about Al Gore's environemntal efforts) Though carbon offsetting is in its early stages, many up and coming companies are beginning to develop plans to make the idea mainstream. Definitely a trend to watch!
Speaking of people who are interested in the environment, we attended an informal party last night hosted by one of the nurses on Ted's floor. Everyone was laid back, interesting to talk to, eco-savvy, and eager to discuss outdoor adventures as well as our environmental footprints. Tevas (sandals) and dogs abounded, and the conversation focused on one group's fishing expedition to Mexico, another couple's road trip to Canada, and frequent fishing trips to Lake Powell and hiking excursions to Buckskin Gulch. Needless to say, we fit right in! As we cooked out on the grill, exchanged stories, and shared insights - we knew that we had found a place we would love to call home for three months (and maybe longer.)

By: Rebecca
P.S. Sorry no picture. Typing in the airport in a hurry!

A Sunset reflection

We're safe in Flagstaff, and now have internet access up and running. Yeah! Already there is much to report - from the drive down through Idaho and Utah, to our two (short) hiking excursions, to our adventures in downtown. I said in an earlier post that I left my heart in San Francisco, but it's starting to catch up to me here in Flagstaff. The aromatic desert air, the colors of the sky at sunset, the smell of an approaching storm, brilliant flashes of lightning, and hiking trails galore- including a trail leading to Mt. Elden that starts at the end of our street - all combine to make Flagstaff one of our favorite destinations to date. Of course, we could never replace the wonderful friends we made in Palo Alto and Olympia, and we miss San Francisco and walking to downtown Olympia, but there is something about the desert that quiets the soul - that exudes peace.

Yesterday, I picked Ted up from his last day of classroom orientation, and we headed to Sunset Crater for a short hike. Our timing was perfect - the sun was just beginning to sink behind the San Francisco mountains, and the nearly full moon glowed behind the pink and orange tip of Sunset Crater. Sage and cedar filled the air with a sweet and musky aroma while we wound our way through lava rocks and cinder. Though Sunset Crater erupted in 1065 A.D., we passed a tree with a volcanic rock melded into its roots - meaning that that particluar tree has been around since the time of the eruption! Touching its smooth, driftwood like branches and running our hands through the slowly decaying mulch at its base was like touching a moment in time. I could almost see the terror of the Sinagua people who used to inhabit the valley as the ground began to shake - see the lava as it crashed through farm land, houses, trees and boulders on its innocently destructive course - see the simmering molten lava and the black ash as it fell for years after the eruption, forcing the people to move into new territories.

And yet, in the peaceful moment of a warm sunset, touching a thousand year old tree, looking out at the forest regenerating in the crater, and brilliant red flowers growing in the cinder - I could see how beautifully the landscape had been shaped in the centuries following the destruction. I thought, too, of the Sinagua people, whose new home we had visited a few days before in the cliff dwellings of Walnut Canyon. They, too, had adapted to a new environement, learned to make their homes in cliffs and to grow crops on the sides of mountains. Their cliff homes are empty now too, the stones they used worn white as the bark of the incredible tree by the centuries. Yet, their cliff dwellings, like the remnant of their valley dwellings, remain a windswept testament to our ability to adapt, to live in harmony with what is around us, and to move forward from areas of destruction to small, carefully carved havens of peace.

Posting By: Rebecca
Photos By: Ted (Taken during our June 2004 trip to AZ)

Touching the Earth

The other day, Ted asked me if I had touched the ground over the course of the day. Of course I had touched the ground that day - hadn't I? After all, I had walked downtown, walked to the mailbox, and sat on the porch. Walking requires touching the ground, right? Wrong-if you define the ground as the earth. My feet had touched pavement, but my feet had not touched the earth itself. All of a sudden, the thought struck me that touching the earth requires a conscious and mindful act in most parts of the country. The simple act of sinking my feet into the grass (or dirt, depending on the area of the country I'm in) requires me to find an area that is not covered in pavement, to take off my shoes, and to intentionally linger with the earth.

Touching the earth has always been an act of renewal and regeneration, as it connects us to something larger than ourselves. Many of us who have homes with yards frequently interact with the earth - mowing, pruning, shaping, and fertilizing, until the ideal landscape has been achieved - so that we can sit on our porches and enjoy the views. But how many of us lay in our front yards to look at the clouds or the stars? Or climb our trees? Or walk barefoot in the backyard? Or leave our chairs on the porch in favor of a picnic in the grass? Perhaps the simple act of choosing to touch the earth each day will lead us to make the choice to connect to life in other ways - by reaching out to our communities, and to all the other areas of life that we often take for granted, but which are actually the very things that will strengthen, enliven, and reconnect us, if we are willing to risk the connection.

Scaring the Wildlife, and Other Tall Tales

For our fourth wedding anniversary, we decided to celebrate by backpacking a section of Mt. Rainier National Park. When we arrived at the Longmire Visitor's Center, we asked the ranger for his recommendation of a ten to fifteen mile overnight hike. He pulled out several maps, rubbed his beard, and mumbled, "Well, let's see," repeatedly. Not necessarily encouraging! He first recommended a trail leading to the Pyramid Creek wilderness camp, but changed his mind when he remembered the bridge was out. Then he pointed us towards a trail leading out from Paradise, but soon remembered the trail was still closed for the winter. Finally, he directed us to the Kautz Creek trail, though he warned us that we would have to forge the creek, and that we might need snowshoes in order to complete the trail. As it was warm enough to wear a tank top, we were sure that he was perhaps confused about just how much snow we would encounter, and forging a creek didn't sound like anything we couldn't handle. So we signed up for our wilderness permit (which is always a bit disconcerting, as you have to give an emergency number "just in case"), laced up our hiking boots, strapped on our packs, and headed out into the wilderness.

During the first mile of the trail, we met a group of rangers who warned us that we would have to forge the river up ahead, but were quick to tell us that we could do it without any problems. Despite the fact that what one ranger called a creek, another had called a river, we were not yet worried. Before we could reach the section of waterway in question, we had to walk across a rickety log precariously perched above a raging, five-star rapid river - not exactly my favorite moment of the trip. But we made it, and Ted, as usual, paused to enjoy the view from the bridge while I put one foot in front of the other and reminded myself to breathe until I touched dry land. Once we were safely across, we made our way through mounds of gray volcanic soil, and came upon the part of the river that we would have to forge. Though the path was treacherous, we managed to wend our way between rocks, tree stumps, felled logs, and mud to get to the other side (with the ranger's help). With the river behind us, we were free to climb 2,000 feet in three miles unimpeded. And we thought it would get easier after the river!!!

It took us nearly four hours to reach a vista point for lunch, and we had barely been three miles! Between the weight of the packs, and the steep incline, we were making terrible time. But we had gotten an early start, the day was unseasonably warm, the sun was shining, and the forrest smelled of warmed pine and cedar. And at least we were back in the wilderness, and away from the noises and stressors of civilized life. There is something about feeling my muscles stretch and strain that makes me feel euphoric and alive, as does pumping and filtering my own water, and preparing food under the open sky. It feels right - as though my body remembers how to live more simply, and wants more of the same. I feel more calm, more at peace, when the only thing required of me is to touch the earth, breathe the aromas of the forest, and scout out a place to pitch my tent. Laughing comes more easily, as does breathing fully and being able to empty my mind. For these reasons, backpacking is addictive, and we literally go through withdrawal if too many weeks pass without an excursion into the wilderness to renew us.

After lunch, we pulled on our packs and forced our legs to continue the uphill climb. Barely a half mile into the climb, we encountered a strange bird that we had never before seen - a small bird with a black body and a fuzzy white crest who had a deep, rumbling call. At least, Ted thought the bird was making the noise in question, and began to imitate it to entice the bird closer. The noise became louder with each imitation, and the bird began to look around, as though confused about the source of the sound. All of this was rather amusing, until the bird flew away, and the rumbling became a growl. We quickly realized we were not dealing with a mere bird. Though we never saw the creature from which the sound emanated (and let me mention that we were glad not to meet it face to face), we were frightened enough to use "the whistle" (every backcountry hiker's standby), and stood close together so as to appear bigger to the animal in question. After several loud whistles, the creature stopped growling, and we continued along the trail, albeit with trembling legs and racing hearts. Thank goodness for the whistle!

Shortly after passing the creature's territory, we came upon another bridge that led to . . . Snow! Yes, feet upon feet of snow, despite the fact that it was nearly seventy degrees. The snow was so deep and covered so much land, that we were not able to continue further without snowshoes and a topo map. So - two points for the ranger, and 0 points for us on the "well, I know what the ranger said, but we are master hikers capable of any feat" scale. So, it was back through the creature's territory and towards a precariously placed camping spot on the side of a hill (though we did have amazing views of what we named "Bat Cave Mountain" due to the fact there was a snow spot in the exact shape of the Batman crest). We slept soundly through the night, and though some creature ate a bit of our trail mix during our slumber, it obviously did not like M&M's and saved the majority of the trail mix for us.

The hike down the mountain only took an hour, which was good, as we were racing to beat the rain across the river. We drove towards Paradise, but the main portion of Rainier was hiding behind ominous grey clouds. Because of the impending weather, we opted to cut our outing short and finish celebrating our anniversary with the traditional dinner and a movie. And if you have to know - we did go see the "Da Vinci Code", and it was incredibly thought provoking. But I'll save the movie review for another blog. Hope you are all out enjoying the spring weather!

Posting By: Rebecca
Photo By: Ted (Kautz Creek - taken at the "three mile bridge")
P.S. Thank you to all of you readers who lovingly reminded me to get on and post more material. I appreciate your comments!

Pike Place Market

"Fresh Fish! Right Here! Come and Get It!"
"Do you see how big those fish are?"
"What kind of fish is that?"
"Take my picture!"
"Do you smell those roasted apples?"
"Look at those pastries!"
"I've never seen flower arrangements like that before!"
"Let's taste that marionberry jelly."
"Dried apples only three dollars a bag! We have cherry flavored apples. We have blackberry. Take your pick!"
"I think the guidebook said to try Jack's Fish Spot."
"I don't know. I think I'm hungry for some clam chowder. Let's stop here."
"Seattle's Best Coffee!"
"Do you want a double shot or single shot? 8 0z., 12 oz., or 16 oz.? What kind of milk? Whipped cream? Any syrup? OK. Next!"
"Piroshkies and borscht soup! I've never seen that before. I think the apple cinnamon ones are supposed to be good."
"I wish I could buy one of those flower arrangements and take it home!"
"Wouldn't it be amazing to live here? Every day we could stroll down to the market to get what we need. I could imagine us in one of those brick lofts right past Post Alley. I would walk down to buy fresh flowers for the dining room. You'd buy fresh fish for dinner. Then we could have coffee and piroshkies and walk by the water."
"That would be amazing!"
"Freshly made doughnuts! Five for a Dollar!"
"Get Today's News! Right Here!"
"Can you smell those roast chestnuts? I can't believe I'm still hungry!"
"Save some room because we haven't even found the famous crab cake place yet."

Overwhelming. That's the best word to describe Pike Place Market. A cacophony of sounds and aromas. Hundreds of tourists crowding around the locals who are actually trying to buy food. Myriad small food stands and taste samples. Creamy clam chowder. Melt-in-your-mouth crab cakes. Aromatic coffee. Daffodils, cinnamon roles, homemade jam, hand crafted jewelry, specialty soaps, leather journals, fresh herbs - all of this and more is packed into the stalls of the market. Extending for blocks, the market is a collection of food stands, artisan booths, restaurants, pubs, coffee houses, newsstands, and florists. Surrounded by food and community, we felt as though we were in another country! People slowed down to speak to one another, others were talking through open upstairs windows, or pausing for a drink in Post Alley. The world moved a little bit slower - probably because everyone, including us, had eaten one sample too many! The excitement of the crowds, the unexpected thrill of smells, and the abundance of locally grown food and coffee keeps us coming back to Pike Place on trip after trip to Seattle. I think I can smell the cranberry and white chocolate piroshky from here!

Posting By: Rebecca
Photo By: Ted

Olympia and Seattle - A Photo Collage

The lush evergreen forests in the South Sound.









Amazing sunset right outside our front door!













View of Seattle from Bainbridge Island









Fish Stand in Pike Place Market - Seattle













Ted in front of the Space Needle on a typical Seattle afternoon!






Photos: Top four by Ted; Last one by Rebecca

Spring Is In The Air

Spring is upon us now. I can feel it in the warm breezes, the increasing number of sunny days, the scent of lilacs, the rows of daffodils and tulips. The world is opening up, as is the town. After a month of hard work, we are finally beginning to get to know the area, to understand its quirks, and to appreciate its beauty.

We've discovered our favorite hangouts - Darby's and Otto's for breakfast, Batdorf and Bronson for coffee, and Fishtail's or The Oyster House for excellent fish and chips. One unique and wonderful aspect of the Olympia dining experience is that so many of the restaurants pride themselves on using mainly local and organic foods. It seems that everything from the eggs, to the potatoes, to the oysters, to the coffee and beer is produced and sold locally. The Oyster House boasts that "the oysters [they] serve today, spent last night in the bay." Otto's and Darby's post a list of their organic ingredients and the names of the farmers who supply them. Most restaurants also serve vegetarian options as well.

In addition to the local food, we have come to respect the variety and quality of the local music scene. Last Wednesday we went to see Matt Costa play a concert at the Crocodile Cafe in Seattle, an amazingly clean and intimate venue for an extremely talented musician. But we don't have to drive all the way to Seattle to see quality music. Olympia's thriving downtown offers a wider selection of music venues than most cities I've visited. Any given night of the week, I can slip into a booth to hear a jazz show, sit on a bench in the park to listen to acoustic guitar, or rock in front of a stage to one of the local punk bands. Last Monday, the local art hosue theatre even offered a rap show featuring Pharcyde, a group respected in many circles for their political and articulate music.

And the list of things to do doesn't stop at music and food. Last weekend marked the reopening of the Olympia Farmer's Market, and though it was still too early for much local produce other than apples, artisans, farmers, and members of the community gathered together to sing, dance, and eat under a rare sunny spring sky. The opening of the Farmer's Market (which was mentioned in Jane Goodall's book Harvest for Hope) also signaled the beginning of the Olympia Film Festival, sponsored by the New York Times. Though the downtown theatre is small, it offers a surprisingly wide variety of art hosue films, including Why We Fight and Cache this week. Priest Point Park and Bud Bay beach are surprisingly large parks for a city as small as Olympia, and offer acres of relaxing waterfront and walking trails. Though we have not yet had the opportunity to explore the waterways by boat, we have seen seals, crabs, and other sea life from the bridge at Percival Landing, which is about a mile of pleasant walking from our front door.

In addition to sightseeing, we have kept busy in more productive ways this trip. Ted has focused on developing his photography skills, and I tutor two to three times per week at a local middle school. Also, I have spent the majority of this assignment honing my writing skills and researching material for the book I am working towards completing by the end of the year. The past six weeks has passed quickly between trips to Seattle and forays into local parks, but the next six weeks will pass even faster now that hiking trails are beginning to open to the public after long winter closings. Our plans for the next few weeks include kayaking, sailing, camping in Mt. Rainier, driving the Cascade Loop, biking through the Skagit Valley Tulip Festival, visiting Portland, and, of course, hanging out at the Pike Place Market in Seattle at least a few more times. Last, but not least, a Mariners baseball game will round out our experience in the Pacific Northwest before we move to the desert for the summer. Every day will count, and I'll try to find time to update you all about the new adventures coming our way!

Posting By: Rebecca
Photo By: Ted (Bud Bay Inlet in Olympia, WA)