slow & steady

Slow & steady. That's me in many ways. I hate being rushed. I need time and space to process, to confirm. I need ample time in the morning to wake up, to read, or pray or breathe - or all three! Ask anyone who knows me and they will nod. I've been like this since a very young age. I'm at peace with this fact now. And yet, I see myself growing. Life has a way of continuing to put you outside of your comfort zone. Change is a constant. We can all attest to that. Even though not many of us enjoy big changes, they keep coming. And this afternoon I am thankful for that. Slow and steady. I'm adapting to new things, uncomfortable things, hard things. I'm making new space for good things too, exciting things. I'm saying 'yes' to things I sort of want to say 'no' to. I'm never sorry for that 'yes'. (Small note: if you have never seen "Yes man" with Jim Carrey, please go see it. You will laugh a lot, but you'll be awakened to something as well. We like that movie and quote it often in our home.) I hiked a 14er this Summer. What is a 14er you ask? A mountain that stands around 14,000 ft above sea level. They are scattered throughout our fine state and we are blessed to claim one right here in Breckenridge - Mt. Quandary. And trust me, it must get it's name because there are SO many rocks and boulders on that mountain. Sheesh! Neither Jonathan, nor I, had done it and he got the bright idea to do it on my 3 year anniversary of my cardiac arrest. "Ummmm, really?!" I thought. I was doubtful. Shouldn't we just do a nice little (flatter) hike somewhere else? I asked him if he really, REALLY believed I could do it. No, like do you REALLY, ACTUALLY think I can do it? I must have asked him some form of this question 10 times. Each time, "Yes, sweetheart. You can do it. We'll take it slow and steady. We'll do it together." O-kayyyyy ... Hmm. I wasn't so sure, but once something is before me, I'm going to do it. (Side note - the extent of my activity right now is a whole lot of yoga, hiking, and biking around Breck on my oh-so-adorable Cruiser-style bike. Not intense, just fun physical stuff. So this is why I was seriously questioning my ability to hike so far, not to mention so high up!) So on the morning of July 5th, we set out with our sweet puppy at 6:00 a.m. to hike up that mountain. What a thrill to put my gear back on after a few years of missing it. Get my hiking poles, put Nyah's backpack on her cute back - she has to carry her own food and water friends - and set out for something so physical. My yoga trained lungs were fantastic. No problem with the lack of oxygen or the exertion in that way. I breathed like a champ, I was so proud. Good job lungs! One step at a time, I got up that trail. It was hard at the false summits. My hip started to ache, my legs were dead at certain points. Cramping set in, but was remedied by food or water. One step at a time. Jonathan must have told me how proud he was of me a million times. That man is amazing. He is endlessly patient & unfailingly kind. We reached the top - finally. Tears fell. Good tears. Tears that symbolized gratitude, pride, amazement, bliss, relief, wonder, joy, companionship & intimacy. It was amazing. Reclaiming that day in such a physical way. I felt like the athlete inside of me had been sleeping for a while and she woke up! Three years ago my life nearly ended. And this year look at what I am doing on this day. We took this picture at the top as a family. I treasure it in a way that cannot be articulated. When you get to the top of a 14er, the beauty takes your breath away - not to mention there really is a lack of oxygen up there. Sure you've seen pictures of this sort of thing, but when you reach it on your own and see mountain tops before you, valleys, lakes, snow (yep snow in July), endless blue and green and every shade in between - it requires a silence. I just took it in. Grateful doesn't cover what I feel, but it is a word I'll use. I'm so glad I'm alive. Living my life with the man of dreams, in the place of my dreams. Family, friends, work I love. Simple things that make life so beautiful. I'm grateful. We got down the mountain, too, which sounds like it would be easier but it is not easier. By the end I was walking with Gumby, rubber legs. And I was sore for about 5 days afterward even with all the yoga and body rolling I do. I'm so proud of myself. It's a good form of pride. Good job body. Good job mind. Good job HEART. Thank you for pumping and working and getting me up there. It wasn't fast. It was slow and steady. And I'm good with that.

roberta jean ...

Remember those chore boards from when you were a kid? Those lovely little charts with empty boxes awaiting completion. I simply adored (and still do) anything that when accomplished, gets a shiny GOLD STAR sticker! Or pink or purple ... One of my most favorite tasks was setting the table. Not just any table though - the dining room table. WITH CHINA! My mother's beautiful plates - off white, gold rimmed, fragile, delicate and simply wonderful. People make fun of china saying it's wasteful and needless. In fact I did not register for it when I got married, but I love my mother's china. There were steps to setting the oh-so-special dining room table for holidays. First, you have to put the table extensions into the table which requires you to pull the table apart (SO COOL!) and put the long wooden extensions in. I love magic, expanding tables. The next step was to put these bright green, felt-lined (think of the last pool table you played on and it's exactly that texture) pads on top of the beautiful, and now HUGE, dining table. Then ... the longest table clothe ever, plates, silverware, gravy boat, salad bowls, water goblets, wine classes... It was like playing to me. The silverware wasn't just in a drawer, it was in a special box! And the dining room had a special cabinet with all these wonderful goodies in it. I can muster up the amazing smell of this cabinet right this very minute. Setting the dining room table for a holiday or special meal ... I simply loved it and I love even the memory of this job. My mother let me do it since I was pretty little I think. Though I cannot remember the exact age this task was assigned to me, I had to have been pretty young. There are certain times in growing up that you just love being an adult. Independent, confident, out there doing things and becoming someone. There are other times that I love being a child still. A daughter. Like when I go and visit my Marmee in Memphis and I walk into her closet. I do it every visit. It smells like Marmee. A very, very good smell. My mom has always smelled so good, and she started my grown up love affair with all things perfume, candles, oils and more. Back to the closet though - I love seeing what's in there. Her stuff. I'll just flip through it and browse. It's not the clothes. It's her essence. She's very beautiful outwardly, but there's more to it than that. I love seeing the colors and textures that compose how she expresses herself. And don't get me started on her jewelry. Roberta is sort of a jewelry fanatic. She has a lot of it - and it's awesome. I love opening her drawer and seeing it. Touching the different stones or chains. My father bought her some amazing jewels back in the day (I saw romance first hand when I was growing up) and it's only grown and gotten more and more unique as her tastes have changed and expanded. All of this takes me back to a young age. I love that feeling. I'm a daughter. I remember watching my mother many times when I was young. On stage singing. She was so beautiful. Loud and expressive with her voice. I loved watching her play the piano. I still do and request for her to sing songs from Les Miserables or Phantom of the Opera when I can. I loved cooking with her and also watching her cook. She made (and still does) yummy stuff. I loved watching her in her garden. Mom has an extremely green thumb. I loved watching her do her hair - the smells of a hair dryer just turned off, a curling iron heating up. The particular scent of makeup - Estee Lauder was her brand back then. I am considered by many as a very "girly" girl in this way. I love being a woman and all the feminine things that compose that. I think my mom showed me how from a very young age and I'm grateful for that. I love that I can call her up and ask her the most "Martha Stewart" question and she typically knows the answer or will find it for me. Something I'd don't take for granted. I love these memories - the emotions they evoke, the smells, the colors. I'm so grateful I have a mother like I do. I love you Marmee. You are beautiful. And you bring beauty to the world in everything that you do. Happy Mother's Day.