It is good to love many things, for therein lies the true strength. — Vincent van Gogh
I woke up around 5:45, looked east and didn’t see much, but I could tell it was going to be a good sunrise….
I made coffee and just a few minutes later I saw this!
I kept watching and this appeared next.
Just after 6 am I looked toward the Spanish Peaks!
And this happened right before the sun came up…
May every sunrise give you hope
Ever since I wrote this post about taking a worry vacation, I’ve been thinking more about why we worry. Of course there is a reality to why we worry. When I watch the tiny birds outside my window, I think about their worries. They need to be ever vigilant or some other animal might eat their food or even eat them!
In the history of our ancestors on this planet, it would seem the hyper-vigilant of the species must have survived longer than the lazy ones. But in this day, I have very little to worry about.
I realized yesterday that I live in a time and a place where I have less to worry about than just about anyone else in the history of planet earth. I’m warm, I’m safe, I’m well-fed and I’m happy. Yes, many of us have hit the sweet spot, and yet still we worry.
I wonder what percent of why we worry is based on completely faulty reasoning. Some say we worry to feel in control because our attention is turned to solving a certain problem. While we think we are solving the problem, we have the illusion that we have control over it. Worry can be reinforcing. We think due to the fact that we worried properly, we got the desired outcome.
The faultiness of this logic became far too obvious to me when I recently learned that I could not live without supplemental oxygen. It had never occurred to me that I would ever have trouble breathing. I had maintained a healthy lifestyle at 5,000 foot elevation and certainly never smoked. Then, after a few years living at 6,500 -7,000 feet, a doctor observed that I might be hypoxic. Very observant. But it still took a couple years and too many different medical tests to prove to me that I needed to live on full-time oxygen.
See how that theory about worrying properly worked out? Ah humanity! How we labor to convince ourselves that we’ve got this, and yet we still all have to die of something…
Since then I have tried to keep my heart open to change, because it’s coming whether we like it or not. These are my watchwords now:
“Even in seemingly dormant times, we are in transition. Losses and gains are in constant play. We are the change-agent, and we are changed. Even without toil, we transform. So wisdom advises us to open our hearts to transition; to honor fully what is passing, to learn from all that unfolds, and to welcome what arrives at our door each day with courage and curiosity.”
Morning rituals help me center myself for each new day. Since moving out into the southern Colorado foothills with few neighbors, I feel privileged to be able to view an unobstructed sunrise every morning as a part of that ritual.
Often I think, “It won’t be amazing today” and then I turn around in my bed and see something like this.
Living here has made me even more grateful for my life and that it has led to this place full of love and acceptance. It has also led to some tough physical challenges for me. The simple act of breathing has become more and more difficult. I can no longer live without supplemental oxygen. For a while we wondered if it was lung cancer.
There is nothing like the ‘c’ word to make you sit up and take notice, and the challenges of simply breathing every day naturally call my attention to my own mortality. Many years ago I was a follower of Stephen Levine, a well-known poet, author and teacher best known for his work with those with life-threatening illnesses. For over twenty-five years, Stephen and Ondra Levine provided emotional and spiritual support to those who were dying and their caregivers. I highly recommend his books to you. I went to hear him speak in Boulder once for an all day event. That was the beginning of my own internal conversation about my own death. I still enjoy listening to his meditation called:
“Take each breath as if it were your last”
I used to feel so afraid of death. Then my experience of moving quickly in and out of consciousness with a traumatic brain injury provided some strange reassurance. Death is simply the final loss of consciousness. Death is inevitable and really quite simple. I accept it now, and try to love each day that I have left to be alive.
I need to imagine myself in the future doing what I love. For me, now, that is a radical act of courage.
Those who know me, know that I find most human behavior exemplified in the 2012 Disney Nature film Chimpanzees. Go watch it and you will learn the simplicity of how most of us behave and why. Protecting our young is the female role in nature. Aggression against others is the male role, especially when it comes to defeating our enemies. This is human nature or our natural behavior when confronted with the many challenges of life.
What is not natural is non-violence in the face of violent opposition. In fact it seems counter-intuitive and certainly not in our best interests. And yet, Gandhi defeated the most powerful colonial power on earth with these methods. Martin Luther King also championed this response to hate-filled, deadly mobs. Even that Capital policeman who seriously considered shooting at the rioters who were attacking him on January 6th, decided that his best means of defense under the circumstances was to tell them he was human and had children instead. This probably saved his life.
But this method did not save the lives of Gandhi or Martin Luther King. The “might makes right” assassins murdered them both. They were both quite clear that this would probably happen. Witness the many strong American advocates for racial justice. Medgar Evers, Malcolm X and Martin Luther King knew that they would probably die at the hands of assassins, but this did not deter them from walking the talk everyday. Not one of them lived to be 40 years old. These were the human leaders who decided to believe in something far more audacious than brute force. It wasn’t about more powerful guns and bombs for them. It was about taking a stand against those who had no sense of fairness, equality and integrity. Those who felt boundlessly insecure about their place in the world. Those who simply said: “might does make right.”
Democracy is also a force that stands stubbornly above the simple and stupid assumption that whomever has the most guns wins. Democracy is based on the idealistic assumption that we can each have our say at the voting booth and then have a peaceful and civilized transition of power in our country.
Amazingly, this system has worked for decades, until a few ill-informed, hate-filled white-supremacists led by the craziest president in American history, decided might makes right. That mob crime scene at our capital was a sacrilege, a violation of all we find sacred about this country. I cannot imagine the day I would break down the doors and windows of my capital and destroy so many symbols of our democratic system of government. In other countries these traitors would be summarily shot.
How ironic that the system these anarchists hate so much, is the exact same one that will save their lives!
I was introduced to Colorado at the ripe old age of twelve when my Dad decided to take a new job in Boulder. A move from Emporia Kansas to this mecca of hippie culture in 1966 moved me fast forward into a new way of seeing. I’ll never forget the time some guy on “The Hill” offered me acid at age thirteen. I much preferred candy at The Country Store on Broadway at that age. For us the culture shock was just beginning!
A couple years later we moved to Colorado Springs so my Dad could take a job at Colorado College. From one of the national centers of hippie culture to a majorly conservative military town, how shocking for our young, vulnerable minds. Between Fort Carson, The Air Academy, Peterson Air Force Base and NORAD, the military presence was hard to miss, and our teachers in junior high and high school were often retired military officers. My brother John, the natural rebel, had the most trouble with the conservatives there. He got suspended from school for wearing a peace symbol around his neck! We all wore black armbands when members of the Ohio National Guard fired into a crowd of Kent State University demonstrators, killing four and wounding nine on May 4th 1970. This was the first time I protested anything.
“Tin soldiers and Nixon coming, we’re finally on our own.
This summer I hear the drumming
Four dead in Ohio… ” – Crosby, Stills & Nash
Then I went to college for short periods at Colorado College (2 years), University of Northern Colorado (1 semester) and CU-Boulder in quick succession. What was I seeking? To understand Asia and learn Chinese after living in Bangkok at the end of the Vietnam War.
Over the years after college I lived in Asia, on the West Coast (Seattle), near the East Coast (Cornell University) collecting graduate degrees and worked at a number of university libraries. But Boulder always called me back. I felt safe and comfortable there. After one of my most harrowing years, studying Chinese at the Stanford Center in Taipei, I found myself sitting there wondering where I should move next. I chose Boulder, a place where I always felt safe and comfortable. I ended up with a position at CU-Boulder libraries for a few years.
So really the theme of my life has been, go out and explore the world, then return to Colorado for safety and reassurance…
The crowning glory of my love for Colorado has been our move six years ago down to the foothills west of Walsenburg. With an astounding view of the Spanish Peaks and the Sangre de Cristo Mountains, out in the country, far from all people noise, that’s the Colorado I love best! I have climbed peaks, run rivers. even biked a few off-road trails, but now I’m happy just looking outside and dreaming of past adventures…
“The world is full of magical things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” – W.B. YEATS