The powers of three-year-olds

I went today to visit my friend Sara and her three kids (and her husband, too). They are a lovely family and are doing really well. We try to make sure to see each other at least once a month since we lived so far from each other for so many years, and here we both are, full circle, both close to where we started.

Her daughter is full of life and has been verbal from before she could talk. Today, Sara told me a story that happened last Tuesday. Her daughter was having a not-so-good morning and Sara was reprimanding her for whatever transgression. Caroline, in a fit of anger, said to Sara "Your day is cancelled!" HOW AWESOME!

Imagine if we could just cancel someone else's day? Just take it away from them as punishment? We'd never need any other power, because that one would just be the end-all-and-be-all! And, on a twist, I have to say I'd love the ability to cancel my own day once and a while too. Just have a break, but nobody's expecting me anywhere, because my day doesn't exist. It's just been cancelled.

Apparently about a year ago, when Caroline was still only 2 and a half, she once said to Sara, "Get out of my mood!" Which is also not only clever, but totally sums up what we grown-ups need to do for each other sometimes.

Children are wise. Why do we unlearn that?

36

I am 36. I am still in my mid-thirties. (Yes. I am. No. 36 is not late-thirties. No, I'm not listening. It's not.)

Fun facts about the number 36 are available easily, as is all other knowledge of the world, on Wikipedia, of course. I harvested these three from all the others.

First:

36 is the number of degrees in the angle of all 5 tips in a perfect star.

Ah, perfect things. A perfect star. Drawn with a protractor. From 1982. When I was 9.

Second:

36 is the sum of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and 8.

Well, that's just cool. And nice and round. And happily mathematical.

Third:

The sum of 1+2+3+...+36 is 666.

Great. The sign of the devil. Hmmm...

Darlin' Do Not Fear

Through Pandora, I discovered Brett Dennen. I love him. His songs are simple and sweet. This one was just playing, and I really heard it for the first time. I do that, you know, don't really listen to a song, even one I've heard again and again. Anyway, this one is apropos this week.

These are excerpts. The song is Darlin Do Not Fear What You Don't Really Know.
Listen here, but don't watch, because the hand held camera will make you sick. :)

From its place on the mantle my heart and was taken down
scattered in a thousand little pieces on the ground
And out below the street lamp like an orphan with a halo
Darlin' do not fear what you don't really know

'cause it won't last - the worries will pass
All your troubles they don't stand a chance
And sometimes it takes more than a lifetime to know
Darlin' do not fear what you don't really know

If you have a broken heart or a battered soul
Find something to hold on to or to let go
to help you through the hard nights like a flask filled with hope
Darlin' do not fear what you don't really know

I will

Bad things sometimes are done to good people. The key is, though: the bad thing was created by someone else. So the good person (me, in this case) doesn't own it. It isn't mine. I am affected by it, but it's not mine. So moving on from it is easier.

I had a relationship this year with someone I came to love. We started out dating, I broke it off because it wasn't working, I went back looking for friendship, I discovered a lie, I left for "good", I sought the friendship again, I thought the friendship had potential to be a relationship again, and I found out the entire thing had been a lie, from the start.

It's been quite the journey. And difficult. There're details that are mind-blowing; details that are disgusting; details that are shocking; details that are just plain sad. Sufficed to say, though, that the details aren't really important any more. I've had my fill of details.

I am okay. Good, even. It has been 11 days since I learned that I'd been duped, tricked into thinking something existed that didn't. It's been 11 days since I learned that some people are ill. I knew this, of course, but I'd not had a relationship with anyone who has a real disorder before. It's powerful stuff.

It is the big picture that is important now. This is the big picture as I understand it today:

- I am a loving, trusting, pure-of-heart person. (Not to say I'm naive, because I'm not; purity is something different. I use that word to mean that I always have good intentions, my interactions with others are always organic, my emotions are always available to myself and others, and I do not possess the ability to hurt another person on purpose, nor to I have the ability to understand how others can do so.)

- I have a deep desire to be in a partnership with a man, but that hasn't presented itself to me yet in a real way. I need to be increasingly careful to not see potential where it isn't because of this desire.

- I trusted someone who shouldn't have been trusted. I had no way of knowing that he didn't deserve my trust. So none of this is my fault.

- I am not willing to give up who I am at my core, so I will trust again. Some might see this as wanton at best or stupid at worst. I am not really interested in a tempered version of myself and so, I will trust.

- Karma is very powerful. Whenever I've said in the past that the Universe is watching over me and I listen to its messages, I really mean Karma. That my behavior and intentions are so honest and open that Karma helps me get what I need. I believe this is why things come easier to me, why I often find myself in the right place at the right time, and why my life is simple, clean, and beautiful. Karma will work out what needs to be worked out in this case without my intervention.

- I have truly wonderful friends and family. Ones who listen to me, love me, understand me, and are protective of me. They are willing to hug me, cry with me and hold my hand when I need it. They are patiently waiting for me to laugh again.

- I have a honed ability to process information, evaluate my emotions, gather information from inside myself, and move forward in ways that are useful and healthy. I have exercised this ability numerous times in my life, and it has served me especially well this time around.

I realize this post is cryptic. I realize, dear reader, that you aren't getting the whole story. But my intention in this post is to outline the future, not get bogged down in the past.

So, as I move through another January and into a new year, I will walk tall, with my given confidence and belief in myself. I will slowly stop wondering why. I will stop glancing back and instead I will look forward. I will continue to do yoga two or three times a week because it is as good as therapy. I will start to want to eat again. I will laugh, loudly and obnoxiously once again.

I will.

Dogsledding!

Okay, the dogsledding.

Back in, oh, I don't know, September, I began poking around looking for a winter trip. It was probably right when I got back from Canada, as I tend to get itchy for the next trip right after I've come home from one. I have no idea how I landed on dogsledding, except that I was looking for winter trips and women's trips. There was a 5-day 5-star extravaganza in Minnesota. It was snowshoeing, dogsledding, cross country skiing, lodge-with-a-jacuzzi all rolled into one. And required a flight into Deluth and then a rental car. It would've cost upwards of $3000. I considered it for a half a second.

Then it dawned on me that there is probably dogsledding in Maine. And viola! there it was Mahoosuc Guide Service. I contacted Polly, asked a few questions, and had quickly booked the full-moon trip for an overnight in January.

I arrived after a leisurely drive up through NH and Maine that took most of Friday. I checked into the lodge they offer on their property, which is gorgeous. Polly and Kevin (the couple who own and run the business) built it themselves. It has a large common room with kitchen and living room, and two bunk rooms each with a bathroom. It was a like a really nice dorm. I had a nap and then went over to the main house for the meeting. We got all the gear we needed (boots, parkas, mucklucks, and bits and pieces like mittens, etc.) We met as a group.

The players:

Erol and Laurie from Northern VA (last year they went ice climbing!)
Paul and his 12 year old Sevi and 12 year old friend Dario
Mike and his 12 year old Margot and 12 year old friend Sarah
Me

The staff:

Polly, owner
Bonnie, ski guide (older retired woman)
Dan, college kid working with Polly over break
Eliot, 12 year old local kid helping with the puppies

We set off Saturday morning after meeting the dogs, leading them to the dog transport truck, which looks like this:



We drove for a while and dropped off those in the group who would sled in. The skiing group then carried on. After getting ourselves sorted out, we put on cross country skis, donned our packs on our backs, and set out for the 5 mile journey to camp. We were Bonnie the ski guide, Paul (one of the dads) who pulled a toboggan the whole way, Eliot the local kid, and three puppies in dog sledding training who just ran free with us. It took us 3.5 hours to get there, and I fell about 8 times. I've never been on cross country skis, let alone with a huge pack on my back in very deep snow. It wasn't hard, per se, but it was counter-intuitive to an alpine skier and it was sunny and warm (20 degrees!) and took energy to get up. At one point, I asked Bonnie, who was behind me, to go ahead because it was going to stress me out to have her watch me get up! She obliged.

We arrived at camp around 3 and were greeted by the sledders, along with a warm cook tent and tea. The sunset was lovely and the full moon rise was amazing as we collected firewood for a campfire that was to take place later on the lake! I've never burned a fire on ice before. We had a dinner of mac and cheese (the real thing with chunks of cheddar), sausages, and veggies. We walked around camp in mucklucks, which are essentially canvas slippers. You put them on over your socks and down or felt booties and keep dry and warm. At one point, one of the 12-year-old girls came running out of camp and yelled "I'm walking on a lake in my slippers on the snow!" in a singsongy voice. It was exactly what we were all thinking!

We went to bed about 9. It was 0 degrees at 6, so I have no idea how cold it got. I had to sleep with my contact case in my bed with me so they wouldn't freeze, so I popped it in my bra to keep them warm! We were in two sleeping bags, sleeping on a pine bough floor over packed snow. There was a wood burning stove in the tent, which went out mid-sleep. But I was never cold. Nice and toasty in my long underwear and layers. I had to get up to pee in the middle of the night and was met with heavily falling snow outside! It was beautiful, and warmer.

The next morning, after pancakes and bacon and coffee and tea, the skier team headed out while we readied the camp for our departure. We cleaned up, stacked wood, put down new pine bough floors all for the next group (who would arrive on Tuesday). We got a dogsledding lesson, and headed out. I drove my own dog team the whole way out! I had a kid for a while, in an attempt to even out the weight, but then he went back to another sled. We travelled 7 miles across the lake to get back. The dogs were awesome, it was silent and beautiful, and the sun came back out for our trip. I loved every minute.

When we arrived back, we put the dogs back in their places, ate lunch and hung out waiting for the skiers. They took a long time, so we finally headed down the road to find them. Right as we saw them coming, there, in the middle of the road was a moose! I've never seen one in the wild and she was a gorgeous cow. She headed up into the woods pretty quickly. It was a great ending to a great weekend.

My batteries all froze, so I don't have any photos of my own. I got a few from one of the dads, and I'm hoping more will make their way to me, but I figured that the universe was telling me I didn't need photos of this trip.

Here's a few more of theirs:

Breathe in my nose - out my mouth

I went dog sledding and it was amazing, but I haven't the energy to write about it.

Remember this post?

Well, maybe I should listen to myself better. And always trust myself more than I trust other people. And stop worrying about being alone. And look for people who are as pure and good as I am. But I didn't. And I'm paying the price.

So I'm in reflection, and that can't include writing right now.

I'm hoping in another few weeks, I'll be okay.

There is nothing to say

I haven't posted since December 18, I just realized. And I have nothing to say. Nothing is moving me. I am feeling settled and boring and pretty unmotivated for anything.

But, I'm going dog sledding in Maine this weekend, so perhaps after that, I'll have something to write about.

So, wait.