Tag: gratitude

Prehistoric Paddling Pals

Prehistoric Paddling Pals

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I don’t know why my newest paddling companions are gars. Lots of them. Every time I take my SUP board on the river I find gars surface near my board, grab a mouthful of air and quickly sink back to the dark depths of the water. I’m left going something like…”That was close,” or “GOOD MORNING!” I’m not scared of them but they often surprise me when I’m focused on my workout.

As the National Geographic photograph shows, these creatures have elongated jaws and LOTS of needle-sharp teeth. Some species can grow to lengths of over 10 feet. (gulp). My board is 12.6 feet long. And while I’m not scared of gars, I really have no desire to meet a 10 foot long fish with sharp teeth at 7am on the river. It just seems….unnecessary. Right?

While these fish can be intimidating, they really are quite amazing. They are largely unchanged over the past 100 million years and are often called living fossils. Their scales are so thick Native Americans fabricated arrowheads from them. They usually live in freshwater environments but can also live in brackish water.

While they have startled me when I’m lost in my paddle groove, I have come to look forward to encounters with them. They look at me or my board as they gulp air and then are gone. One day I met one of the biggest ones I’ve seen. He or she was probably five feet in length. Her scales were massive and she was laying on the surface of the water. The big fish didn’t hear me approach but when she saw me and/or my board, she was gone…POOF! I didn’t have any desire to become close personal friends but it was great seeing such an awesome fish.

Each morning I look for the osprey that are nesting along the shore. Today they were fishing, flying down the center of the river looking for breakfast. I saw the mallards and a kingbird. A brown pelican flew alongside for a while. I also look for gars and I didn’t see any during the first 2 miles this morning and I was disappointed. But luckily for me I saw two on the way back and they thrilled me with very close encounters.

Maybe I feel a little like a fossil trying to race my SUP board with kids in their 20’s. Being in the ‘over 50’ group I feel at a disadvantage physically. I have more limitations than my younger cohorts. However, what I lack in physical prowess I make up for in my mature outlook….”OH PLEASE LET ME FINISH AND PLEASE DON’T LET ME BE LAST!”

I’m getting stronger with my regular SUP workout and I am making new friends each day I spend on the river. To all my gar friends–thanks for saying hello and thanks for keeping your needle-sharp teeth off of my board! I’ll see you in the morning.

Wisdom of the Wild

Wisdom of the Wild

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My first morning back on the Gulf Coast found me paddling my SUP board from Mobile Bay into Weeks Bay. Since it was a chilly 51 degrees, there was nobody else on the water in boats or other watercraft. It was just the bay, the sky, multitudes of shorebirds and me.

As I paddled through the mouth of Weeks Bay I saw cormorants and pelicans along with wintering ducks and gulls flying, floating and feasting in the brackish water. Moving further into the bay I noticed something floating ahead. It looked like a pelican but it wasn’t moving. The closer I got to it the more concern grew within me. It looked like the large bird was entangled in debris. When I slowly and quietly glided up to the bird I saw with horror and sadness the situation.

What I thought was debris was actually one of its huge wings trailing behind it as this regal bird’s long bill hung in the water. Her wing was completely broken in two and the large bone protruded from feathers and skin.

As I glided up to the bird I sat down and eased closer allowing her to understand I was not there to hurt her. Being on a paddle board I had nothing with which to perform a rescue operation. Plus, did the bird want rescuing? The stress would most likely kill the beautiful creature given her weakened state. Not knowing what to do, I simply drifted with her and asked what she needed.

As we drifted together on the surface of the bay I gently spoke to her while asking for guidance from any angels that might be about. I decided to steer her to the sandy beach to see if she could exit the water. I knew this would be the only place I could attempt to capture her, if that was the right action for me to take.

Slowly we drifted to the remote shore. When we arrived, the pelican walked out of the water and stood, barely able to support her weight. I beached my board and continued sitting on it and asking what to do. “What do you need? What can I do for you?”

With great effort this magnificent bird crawled to a small bunch of marsh grass and laid down. When she got settled she breathed deeply a few times and her body relaxed. I went to a deep place within and knew that the only action called for was to allow her to die in the sunshine among the grasses and sounds of life on Weeks Bay. Any attempt at rescue would kill her at this point. She would be better served by allowing a quiet passage rather than a traumatic one.

So I sat on my board weeping quietly, asking for angels to carry her across the rainbow bridge. After her breathing slowed I gently pushed off from shore and gave thanks to her for being a teacher for me.

Sometimes the best action is to take no action.

The next morning I paddled back into the bay. As I paddled along the shore I saw her, white head laid across her brownish-gray back. I envisioned her last breath with long bill pointed skyward as she gazed into the sky from which she had fallen.

Grateful for the Small Things

Grateful for the Small Things

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Okay, so this juvenile bear isn’t exactly small, as the title suggests. Neither are the two others that are part of this family. The mother is huge and healthy and I am overjoyed that I spent time watching this precious family romp on my decks Thanksgiving night and a couple nights after that instead of being in some store getting pepper-sprayed while reaching for a $2 waffle iron.

In preparation for my upcoming move to Coastal Alabama I’ve been sorting through clothes and ‘stuff’ that I have accumulated in the past 5 1/2 years here in Asheville. While I’m grateful to have warm clothes to wear and a nice home in which to live and toys to play with, I find that the most important things can’t be bought…like spending time with my bear friends.

A few years ago I installed a small water garden to provide water for wildlife. One afternoon as the bears were playing around my home, a young one came up to the glass door where I was sitting with my camera and placed her wet paw on the glass where my face was peering out. I pressed my face closer to the glass and she licked the glass. I could almost feel the tickle of her warm, pink tongue on my nose as I giggled. What could be more joy than this? A $2 waffle iron? Hardly.

Last week I helped celebrate Micki Cabaniss Eutsler’s birthday. Micki is a neighbor here on the mountain and she was my first publisher. I met her shortly after moving to the mountain and our connection led to her company, Grateful Steps, publishing their 7th book, my first. I was able to tell Micki, at her party, how much I appreciate her mentoring me in the publishing realm and helping me believe in my abilities as a writer.

As I feel my time in these lovely Blue Ridge Mountains come to a close, I am mindful of the many people, places and animal friends that have enriched my life and blessed me with experiences that are forever woven into the fabric of my life, my soul. The visits from the turkeys, raccoons, flying squirrels, ‘possums, bears, hawks and song birds are gifts that cannot be bought. I consider these wild creatures my family and their well-being and health brings such happiness to me, such celebration!

We live in a time of change. A time when darkness is exposed more and more. Rather than dwell on the horror of it all, let us joyfully celebrate the light that comes and do whatever we can to see that it increases. For baby bears, friends, trees, the snow falling across the valley as I type this….I am grateful.

To learn more about my books and my work please visit Turtle Island Adventures. (No…the snow is light today…the image of Riceville Valley was taken last year…I see this every day as I walk…snow or green, it’s amazing!).

The Psychosis of Christmas

The Psychosis of Christmas

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This piece was written four years ago but it seems to fit perfectly again this year. With no editing, I present the following commentary.

I stopped dead in the aisle, overcome with three different Christmas songs playing at once along with the noise of an air compressor rattling twelve-foot high shelves. The compressor was keeping giant inflatable globes pumped up but it was creating a background noise that did not quite cover up the tinny tunes blaring from various outdoor speakers or the overhead Muzak speakers spreading Christmas music. I had to stop walking my cart down the aisles of tacky decorations and breathe. I muttered out loud, ‘What am I doing here?’

Almost immediately my inner muse giggled and I understood. I was doing research for an article on greed that had been on my mind for a couple of weeks. The only logical, reasonable explanation for me being in the gigantic store was research. Certainly I would not, in my right mind, enter into such a madhouse the weekend before Thanksgiving.

I wandered on, through a fog of fake Christmas snow, to find two cheap boxes of Christmas ornaments with which to finish my hodge-podge of a tree. I thought of my tree. Many of my ornaments are hand-made by my daughter and me or they are old and carry some sentimental value. My tree is not the most beautiful tree from the standpoint of outer beauty, but it does have a lot of heart and a lot of Christmas-past memories that drape its branches. I wanted a few sparkles to make it glow. Thinking of the hand-made ornaments on the tree made me remember a Christmas years ago.

When my daughter was in first grade we went on our yearly excursion to the tree farm. That year I found I could not kill a tree. Armed with a saw, we wandered through rows and rows of beautiful trees but I could not bring myself to kill one. So we purchased our first artificial tree. I have had some version of a fake tree for the past fifteen years. A lot of love has gone into the artificial trees and I rest well knowing one more tree each year is out there breathing for us. Thus far I’ve saved fifteen trees.

I really love Christmas, even with the retail hoop-la. Two of my friends and I admit we listen to Christmas music long before Thanksgiving arrives. It is inspiring and hopeful and it brings back such good childhood memories. I almost felt guilty for putting my tree up before Thanksgiving but my family is visiting and I decided to bring in the Christmas spirit a little early.

Last week I unpacked the tree, put it together and decorated it. When I plugged it in I opened my arms wide and invited the Spirit of Christmas to fill my home while Christmas carols filled the room. That was before my trip to Christmas hell.

A bump to my buggy brought me back to the moment. I stood in the aisle with huge, fluffy angels and glittery stars trying to find a topper for the tree. ‘What is with this craziness?’ I wondered. Then I thought back to a news report I had heard weeks ago stating that retailers were fearful of the slow economy causing people to purchase less. In an effort to have a profitable season they moved their target date for holiday marketing up several weeks to lessen the possibility of a less profitable season. Goodness knows we all need a few more ipods or x-boxes or our lives would just suck, wouldn’t they?

Now I’m not being a scrooge but I have to wonder when enough profit is enough or when enough stuff is enough. Does anybody know?

I have a theory and it has to do with the greed of our particular little country, the good old USA. This is my theory. We are such a consumer-machine that the downfall of our country will not be through violence or disease. Our downfall will be a direct result of our greed. And China has already figured it out. All they have to do is poison the little toys that EVERYone has to have for their kids and before you know it, we’re being killed by our own greed. There’s something to be said for population control but wouldn’t be better if it was by some intelligent planning rather than our own avarice?

Before I continue I must point out that I have toys. I also have a nice home and fun vehicles to drive. I’m not trying to exclude myself from my own commentary. On the contrary, I’m asking all of us to take a moment and step away from the ‘wish list’ and ponder the idea that we could all get by on a lot less and most likely wouldn’t suffer in the process. Are we willing to turn ourselves into slaves to a retail god?

Maybe you don’t like my conspiracy theory but you have to admit it is kind of funny. Or maybe it’s really sad.

How do we invoke the Spirit of Christmas without buying in (pun intended) to the Christmas psychosis that has hypnotized our country? How can we take the values of love and giving and leave the retail circus behind? Is it possible to summon the beauty of the holiday season without the parade of plastic Santa’s?

I continued my research in the store, observing other people and looking at the over-priced LED tree-topper stars that claimed to blink as bright as Bethlehem. I just wanted something meaningful to top my tree. I pushed the squeaky buggy, weaving in and out of aisles of people that looked as confused as I felt. Finally I found a tasteful black bear with a wreath around his neck. YES! That would be perfect since I live in the mountains and have bears frequent my yard. I picked it up and read the price tag: $3.99. YES! That’s great. But wait a minute. Where was it made? Made in China. Never mind.

I walked away without the bear. My only purchase was two boxes of ornaments for the price of one and a half boxes. I got out of the store for less than ten dollars. But to exit I had to run the gauntlet of two extremely long aisles of candy, just what everyone needs after the stress of a psychotic Christmas experience.

Can we bring the beauty of the holiday season into our homes, into our hearts without the stress of having the prettiest tree, the loudest outdoor speakers blaring Santa tunes and without going into debt to buy presents that will be forgotten within two weeks? I’m going to try. This year my goal is to keep my heart open and invoke the spirit of love into my home and life. I believe it’s possible to focus on light and love rather than surcome to retail hypnosis.

In Star Trek: The Next Generation there is a race of human-machines. They are humans that are slowly turned into machines. The Borg, as they are called, has a saying: “Resistance is futile, prepare to be assimilated. We are the Borg.” Let’s don’t become assimilated into the greed machine. We have choice.

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Update 2011–I’m not putting up a Christmas tree this year. Many changes are happening in my life and I find myself preparing to move and showing my home to potential buyers. So this year, I’ll have to let my ornaments rest. Hopefully I’ll be relocated to Coastal Alabama next year. Meanwhile, I’ll enjoy wonderful memories of family visiting the mountain last year. Isn’t that what the Season of Light is really about?

Let’s see if our accelerated consumerism can take a back seat. On my list this year? To love each other and the planet a little bit more. What’s on your Christmas or Hannukah or holiday list this year?

Evolution of Humanity

Evolution of Humanity

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I sat in silence holding love and appreciation for this magnificent planet in my mind and heart. Images came and went–animals, people, bodies of water, forests, sky. There was only peace and interconnection.

Let this day be a marker for us to rise above our selfish concerns and elevate our thoughts to what is good for the whole. No longer worried about ‘making a name for ourselves’ or receiving recognition for who we are or what we do, may we drop all striving for me, me, me and open our hearts for the good of the whole, for the good of this beautiful water planet.

As Osho writes, May the veil of illusion burn away as the sense of groping in darkness dissolves. May we be witness to the process of humanity evolving into the beings we can be. Let all thoughts of separation drop away and may we let go the poison fed to our minds. May our entire lives become flames of awareness.