Scenes from Childhood

There are few things that take me back so vividly into childhood memories as summer nights. Sitting on my couch, cool breeze drifting through a dimly lit room. Outside sounds of the day dying down, not much traffic now. Closing my eyes I am transported to another time.

Growing up in the northwest we cherished those warm summer days, and the soft evenings that followed. Relaxed and slow, relishing the beauty. Cooling off with open windows, noisy fan, and glass of water. Lights turned low to keep it cool. The scent of freshly-wattered lawn from next-door. 

In our house summers meant Mariners games on the radio. We might not all be in the same room, but there was a sense of camaraderie as we listened and rooted for the home team. Coloring, folding laundry, or falling asleep to the voices of  Dave Niehaus and Rick Rizzs; "To the back, to the wall, it's outa-here!" I can almost still hear them today. "MY OH MY, Goodbye baseball!"

What are your favorite summer memories from childhood? 

Photography makes me happy

Looking through the lens of a camera is something magical for me (or, nowadays, looking at the LCD screen on the back of a camera). Framing a scene transforms it. With a camera in my hand I tend to look for beauty and "good" in the world around me. Even in a barren land, in the pouring rain, or in the midst of destruction there is a spectacular loveliness. It emerges as I point the lens intentionally. For the world cannot be captured as a whole in a photograph, the photographer must select a point of focus. Must make a choice of what to hone in on. I generally like to take photographs that I will enjoy looking at later, so I choose to photograph beautiful things (or capture the scene in an appealing way). The amazing thing is that after a photography walk I am more apt to search for the beautiful in overall life as well. And I usually find it.

Many times in life (and for SURE in the past few weeks) I haven't focused on the good, on the beautiful, on the lovely. I feel anxiety rising and turn to see darkness and scary things all around. Forgetting that the darkness is only part of the picture. Forgetting that the good is still out there. So the anxious thoughts become worse. And worse. And my world shrinks as I bow toward the ugly choking darkness.

Until I can turn and re-focus. On the good, the beautiful, the hopeful, and the loving parts of life. A camera helps me do that; helps me become more intentional with what I focus on. I think I should just keep a camera in hand at all times until I learn the lesson fully!!

I might not be able to get every day in, but I've started trying to take at least one photo a day. Thanks to my great friend Stephanie (thanks Stephanie!) I found a group of people who are doing the same thing. Well, we are all looking for the same theme each day together (right now we're doing the alphabet one letter at a time) but it works in my mind. Looking for beauty in the world around us each day. And I bet we will find it.

What helps you find the good in life when you are stuck seeing dark? Please share! I can use all the reminders and aids I can get right now.

It was a dark and stormy day in Montenegro . . . and oh so beautiful!!

You can do it!

Have you ever seen something so beautiful and touching it brought tears to your eyes? I'm a total sap, so it happens to me all the time.

Yesterday I was able to run in a 10K and stay to cheer at the finish line for friends who ran the Half-Marathon. I love watching at the finish line. It's kind of like the airport baggage check when loved ones are re-united, but even better. If you're ever discouraged or sad head on down to a local race. Such joy and encouragement all around.

My favorite is watching young kids cheer on their parents. A little boy yesterday could barely contain himself when he saw his Mom running down the home-stretch. Jumping up and down with an enormous grin on his face yelling out, "Good job Mommy!!." He was so proud and utterly delighted.
My other favorite is watching people cross the finish line who have obviously struggled and worked so hard to get to that point. Don't get me wrong, it is amazing to watch the uber-athletic people jet across in record time while barely out of breath (crazy kids), but there is something about those who had to struggle to finish that is beautiful. You can see it in their faces at the end. Pain and fatigue, but also pride. They know they are bad ass. Training was not easy, but they did it. The race was long, but they did it. Watching them accomplish this goal, and watching their friends cheer on proudly . . . happy tears.

Most of the time training for a race is a solo sport. Sometimes run with a couple of other people, but usually solo. At the sidelines of a race it feels like the onlookers become a part of it too (just like the "sixth man" in basketball). I'm convinced this is why race times are often a little faster than training times. Encouragement helps the runners to run a stronger race. It made me wonder how I can be more of an encourager to people in everyday life who are struggling to "finish strong"in one area or another. I also started thinking about all the cheerleaders who help me to keep going when I'm tired. Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you. I live stronger because of it. It is a beautiful thing.

H2O

Water. I love water, it is probably my favorite element. 

Water is life, abundance. Our bodies are filled with the substance and we need it to live. Lack of water is an arid, withered, devastating sort of place. I feel a little lost without water around. My need for water is deeper than physical thirst.

The Water draws me. It calls to me. When I am happy it invites me to dance. When I am lonely it is my companion and embraces me when I dive in. If I am angry I go to the ocean and the powerful waves allow me to shout with them. When sad the sound of a stream, the quiet flow of life that will not be disturbed, massages my heart until the tears can flow; quiets me with peace when I am spent. When running in the rain the Water and I play together.

Water is powerful. Crashing waves and tsunamis prove such. It is also mighty when quiet; a small stream can carve its way through stone due to consistent and stubborn flow. 

Writing this I sit along the sea. The water soothing my heart. Keeping me company. Giving me strength. 

(Written April 23, 2012. Giardini della Biennale. Venice, Italy)

How was your trip?

"So, how was your trip? What was your favorite part? Are you glad to be back?"


It's difficult sometimes to answer those common questions. How do you boil down a month of experiences into a succinct response? Not that I mind the questions, it is fun to talk about the trip with people. I just don't have great answers without going into hours of conversation! Here is my attempt at brevity. 


Things I miss about Europe (in no particular order, and certainly not exhaustive):

• Food!!! Trying new foods is always fun, especially when they ended up being yummy most of the time. Random food experiences like a milk vending machine that spit out fresh milk, or being talked into buying dried figs at the market (which were really good). Trying the local cuisine like burek, kremna, squid ink risotto, cevapcici, pasticho . . . mmmm, my stomach is grumbling. 
• Walking, walking, walking. I love being outside and moving. One of my favorite things to do anywhere is just walk around and notice things and take pictures. We must have walked 6-8 miles most days (much more on some). Even though I'm decently active in normal life, I sit much more at home than on vacation.
• Wine for lunch. No further explanation needed!
• Back to the food arena; I loved all the daily markets. Fresh produce and meats and cheeses all set up every day in the city centers. Both beautiful and practical.
• Hearing other languages all the time. Sure it can be a little frustrating to not understand what is going on sometimes (I had my moments), but listening to people speak in different dialects is super fun too! Trying to repeat the sounds and enjoying the cadence of foreign speech. 
• History! The US has nothin' on Europe in this department. Walking past ruins from 70 AD, reading about history in the museums, hearing about more recent history from locals. 
• On a somewhat related note, art! Beautiful buildings and paintings and statues everywhere. Turn a corner and there appears an amazing mosaic or fresco just sitting there. Little architectural details that just aren't common around here.
• Meeting people from all over the place. I'm not a social butterfly or anything, but I do like to meet people who have such different life experiences. In Mostar, Sarajevo, and Dubrovnik we heard from locals about what life was like in the war. In Split we met a Canadian couple living in Switzerland. Everywhere we met people traveling from all over the world.

Things I am happy to return to (also in no particular order and not exhaustive):

• Hot baths! The hostels were great, but certainly didn't have bathtubs and didn't always have very hot water. Ahhh.
• Washing machine and clean clothes! I don't think I got too stinky, but it is much nicer to have mechanically washed clothes than hand-washed-in-the-sink and dried by hanging off the end of the bed. (We did have proper laundering twice during the trip, which was great).
• My own bed and pillow.
• Good cold water. Most of the trip had pretty good water (a couple of places it tasted icky), but Portland has some of the best water straight from the tap that I have ever had.
• Not needing a map to go out to dinner. Exploring is very fun, but sometimes it is nice to come home to the familiar roads. 
• Sitting alone in my condo. People are fun, and it is great to get out there. But I'm an introvert. Didn't realize until I got back how much I missed my silent alone time. 
• Friends! Missed you all. 

So, there you have it. In short, it was a good trip. Too many good things to pick a favorite. Glad to be back. 

The blog is back . . . for now

"'The time has come,' the Walrus said, 'to talk of many things; 

of shoes -- and ships -- and sealing wax -- of cabbages -- 

and Kings -- of why the sea is boiling hot -- and whether 

pigs have wings.'" (Lewis Carroll in The Walrus and the Carpenter)

What I say may be as random and confusing as the words of the 

walrus, but the time has come to write. It has been a while. Life 

became busy with good (and some tough) things in the past few 

months and I did not take the time. The time to sit. And think. And 

write. 

Recently I was able to have a day of reflection. In Venice of all 

places! (I'm a lucky girl.) It turns out that I have been ignoring 

my own voice. Not listening to those internal signals telling me

to stop and think and rest. To take time alone. To step out of the

chaos of normal life and think about the meaning of life. About 

what is good. About what should change. 

This is a transition time right now, and maybe that is why I am 

ruminating so greatly. In any case it is time to write. To help me 

remember that voice inside and give it room to grow. 

For quite some time I have thought of my voice as icky (both 

the internal and what everyone else hears), and that I have 

nothing to say worth hearing. Perhaps nothing here will 

amaze or astound the masses. That's ok, it is time to write 

anyway. To prove to myself that I CAN speak.

More to come.