Wandering and Wondering

I am getting ready to go on an international hiking trip. Along with the usual routines of packing, I am getting supplies together in case evacuation is necessary due to wildfire. With the warm and dry conditions this winter, fire season never ended. Thanks to climate change, fire is now a year around threat. My main concern for evacuation if I am not here is that Gitch is saved. Therefore, I am preparing Gitch’s “go bag” with food, dishes, litter, and a couple toys in case my cat sitter must flee town with him.

This scenario reminds me of Roseanne Roseannadanna’s most famous quote “It’s always something. If it’s not one thing, it’s another.” This fire business, however, is new to me since I moved to Colorado. As I reflect, however, I recognize I have always lived in places where threats exist.

As a child in Iowa, I was both fascinated and terrified of tornadoes. Luckily, I did not have any direct experience with tornadoes but that did not mean that my family was not fearful. I remember numerous times of going to the damp unfinished basement and huddling in the SW corner in case a tornado might come. If a storm came in the daytime, dad and I would sit on the front porch and look to the west to check whether a tornado might be coming.

Although tornadoes can be surprising, technology has changed greatly and wireless emergency alerts, an emergency alert system, NOAA weather radios, and outdoor sirens can all signal the need to go to a basement or shelter in an inside room. The other good thing for Iowans is a tornado season still exists, although that season is also lengthening.

Moving to North Carolina, I learned about another phenomenon for preparation-hurricanes. Coasts are most vulnerable, but hurricanes can wreak havoc further inland. The forecasting methods are quite sophisticated with plenty of warning. Nevertheless, storm tracks change quickly.

I lived through Hurricane Fran in 1996. I was prepared with my outside furniture battened down and my car parked in the street away from possible toppling trees. It was scary. Tornadoes often precede hurricanes inland. The most memorable aspect of that night was the relentless winds that never stopped. At least in the Midwest, the storm was over relatively quickly –not so with the hurricanes.

Today I am not concerned with tornados or hurricanes, but fires. I will prepare as best I can. I can deal with anything if I make sure Gitch is as safe as possible.

In my initial blog writing six years ago, I talked about what my friend, Dan, said, “We live to tell stories.” At that time, I had ideas for stories to share based on my almost 70 years of life. I wrote for myself and to share with an audience. Recollecting and organizing my thoughts is both challenging and gratifying to my soul.

At a recent writing workshop, I heard the statement, “All writing is about relationships.” I thought about that idea for awhile as that connection had not been obvious to me. I reflected on my decades of academic writing of research articles and textbooks. Were they about relationships?

The more I deliberated, however, the more I realized that research is always about relationships among variables including correlations and sometimes cause and effect. I also concluded that writing textbooks is about establishing a relationship with students/readers regarding understanding of concepts and foundations.

Ursula K LeGuin also offered a perspective that guides my writing expressions, “Storytelling is a tool for knowing who we are and what we want, too. If we never find our experience described in poetry or stories, we assume that our experience is insignificant.”

My writing desires relate to the simplicity as well as complexity of growing up on a farm, the love I have with animals whether domestic or wild, and observations about the natural world in which I live. Writing for me provides a means for exploring what is important and why, as well as what might be common experiences that others can relate. My hope is that my work “evokes an echo in someone else’s life” as described in another blog I read recently.

Writing is my creative outlet. Visual arts are not my interest or forte, although I appreciate those who can create beautiful physical images. Authoring is a therapeutic release that sometimes makes me smile and other times conjures pain. It provides a focus for processing emotions for others to consider or in the case of my journaling will never become exposed.

Some people think to write while I have always been one of those people who write to think. That approach explains why I often go through a half dozen drafts of a manuscript or essay before I am ready to share. I have gone to writing classes that use prompts to stimulate writing. I am happy to participate but always reluctant to immediately share because I know that my writing/thinking is only partially complete in a first draft.

I also write as a legacy for myself. By putting my stories on paper, I leave a historical record for myself. I do not want to forget the experiences that have been so essential to who I am. I am grateful that writing and sharing stories creates order in my life and brings joy to my heart.

The email addressed to the Rocky Mountain National Park (RMNP) Information Office where I volunteer said, “Two weeks ago we lost our house in the Marshall Fire. My two sons are so upset that their junior ranger badges were in the fire. They were so proud of them. Is there any way that you could send us replacements for the badges? We will gladly pay for any mailing costs. Thanks so much, (name).” I immediately responded, “We are so sorry for your loss and would be happy to send new badges. We hope you will be able to return to the park soon. Best wishes.”

On other occasions, we have received phone calls to the Information Office from distraught visitors describing lost “passport (to your national parks) books.” This spiral bound full color travel guide is 6’’ x 4’’ and includes 112 pages where people can collect time dated stamps and purchase colored stickers from the parks they visit. Every one of our visitor centers has a “passport” center that is popular with park attendees. People have collected these stamps for years and are proud of their well-travelled books. We are always happy to try to reunite visitors with the books or to help them get new stamps for the dates they visited.

These two examples illustrate the value that citizens place on national parks. Our parks have never been funded to the extent needed compared to the importance most people place on them. Ken Burns and Dayton Duncan stated in 2016: “The parks are the Declaration of Independence applied to the landscape. They are the belief in equality made manifest, stating for the first time in human history that a nation’s most magnificent places should no longer be the exclusive preserves of royalty or the rich; they should belong to everyone and for all time.”

Parks provide economic engines for communities like Estes Park and protect our nation’s history, wildlife, and cultural heritage. We can learn about our country’s past, present, and future in the national parks.

More than 320 million people visited America’s national parks in 2025. Over four million visits were to RMNP. This popularity cannot be divorced from deep concerns over ongoing staffing and budgetary cuts and attempts to erase history and culture across America’s park system.

The popularity of national parks is not surprising. What is astonishing is the federal government administration’s relentless attacks on these places. In the past year, a quarter of park service staff have been fired or forced to resign. Park protection and outreach work has been eliminated in the name of keeping parks open. Thank goodness we continue to mandate a timed-entry system during the busiest times of the year at RMNP. It is controversial, and yet, is what keeps the landscape and wildlife from being overrun by people.

I am adamant about ensuring the history, science, and culture of our national parks are protected. I want young people to love the park through the Junior Ranger program. I want the opportunity for all folks to visit parks. Parks make life better.

My mother was always on a diet when I was growing up. I inherited her obsession over the years as I struggled with issues of weight control. As I have aged and no longer worry about managing my weight, I have recognized the enduring messages over the years about body image and dieting.

Mom talked about faddish diet strategies and yet, always came back to the basic idea that counting calories was the answer to weight management. She did not have major weight issues as I recall but perceived that she did. Her obsession got passed to me.

I was a chubby baby but of “normal” weight as a child mostly due to being active. I gained the typical college freshman ten pounds despite being a letter winner in field hockey (fall) and volleyball (spring). My weight increased after college when I was less physically active. I was a stalky gal. Going to graduate school in my mid-20’s was a turning point not only in the education I received but the start of a 40-year running routine.

I also established a new relationship with food at that time. Growing up on a farm, I experienced the need for a big breakfast to prepare for a day of labor. Lunch also needed to be substantial. Dinner was more like a light supper. Yet, when I moved to the “city,” dinner also became a big meal of the day.

My relationship with food began to change when I took a behavior modification class. I learned to eat when I was hungry and that I did not require three large meals a day. I wasn’t that hungry in the morning so eating something high protein when I felt the hunger was better than having a farmer sized breakfast. I also emphasized healthy eating. I gradually lost weight over the years until today I am at a consistent weight.

In the back of my mind, however, I do not fully accept that my body image is OK. When I hear about the new GLP-1 weight loss drugs, for a fleeting moment, I think I should try that. Then I recognize I am reacting to an outdated image of myself. Old perceptions die hard. Today I put my priorities on healthy eating and living, and try to let go of the past.

I am an active person. I love movement. Activities like running, hiking, cross-country skiing, and biking have been lifelong pursuits for me. Over the last few months, however, I have realized that I need more than active movement. Well-being literature suggests people, especially older adults, need four forms of exercise: strength, flexibility, cardiovascular, and balance. Changes in my joints need attention that basic cardiovascular work does not improve.

These forms of exercise include cardio aerobic action for heart health, strength training to build muscle, flexibility for range of motion, and balance movements to prevent falls. A well-rounded routine combines these to address overall physical as well as mental health. For years I have regularly had 150 minutes of moderate-intensity cardio each week but have done less well with the strength building aspects.

In one of my earlier blogs, I wrote about how I lacked the discipline to do yoga unless I was in a class. I re-evaluated that position during COVID when I could not go to regular classes. My favorite yoga teacher had given me a 20-minute routine that I had filed away but resurrected during the pandemic. I have done at least 3-4 sessions of that program each week for several years and it has been helpful. As an aside, I know that it is hard to measure “prevention” so I do not totally know if I would be better without these home yoga sessions, but it is all good.

I do not feel my balance is bad, but I recognize that using poles when I hike has prevented falls over the years. I now focus on my stability twice a day by balancing on each foot for 10-20 seconds as I brush my teeth. That may not be enough, but it is a start.

The aspect that challenges me today relates to strength training. This approach is “hot” in the media, and I do not always succumb to popular trends. On the other hand, I feel like I am not as strong as I used to be. Recently, I began attending once a week Pilates classes. I feel the same way about doing that activity as I once did about yoga years ago. I do better in a class or with others than when I am on my own. With my schedule, however, going to regular classes is a challenge. I am exploring, although not as vigorously as I should, how to do a strength training program at home. I am working on the resolve.

By writing this blog, I have put my karma out there and, just maybe, I can hold myself accountable for the strength building in the future. I am hopeful.

I could not wait to turn 16 years old. Growing up, 16 was the magic birthday that allowed a person to get a driver’s license. I had learned to drive on the farm and was more than ready to get that license since I had had the learner’s permit since the day I turned 14. A license meant freedom to not rely on my parents or other friends to take me to after-school activities and 4-H meetings in Cedar Rapids. People have different hallmarks in their lives that represent a rite of passage and turning 16 was one of two major events in my life.

A rite of passage is an event that marks a person’s transition from one life stage to another. These changes are often social in nature. Rites of passage for distinct cultures have been around for centuries. The right to drive was paramount in rural Iowa. Although I am sure it was not evident to me at the time, it symbolized a new sense of responsibility and belonging. I had to act more like an adult than a child.

Although graduations, marriages, or birth of the first child might be significant passages for some people, the other significant milestone for me was turning 62 so I could get a lifetime senior pass for National Parks (and other fee based national lands). Having that pass did not change my life like the driver’s license did, but it was important knowing that a privilege of my age was that I would always have access to the National Parks.

I often thought I was the only one who felt that turning 62 was a passageway until recently when two of my younger friends celebrated their age entitlement for a park pass. Both went directly to a nearby National Park upon turning 62 to get this coveted badge. I am glad this privilege did not change over time with the number of baby boomers becoming eligible.

The park pass represents a coming-of-age validation. It symbolizes celebrating aging as a positive thing. It shows how much I appreciate and value federal public lands.

I suspect death will be the next major transition. I have no idea what the afterlife will be and whether I can write about it. For now, I am just grateful that I have had these two important markers in my life.

“Regrets, I’ve had a few / But then again, too few to mention” is an iconic lyric from Frank Sinatra’s signature song “My Way” (1969). Living a full life, accepting mistakes, and taking responsibility for choices are my goals for today. Wishes, thoughts, and prayers, however, are no good without action toward those goals.

I hope I am not close to death, but I recognize I am slowing down. I am running out of time to do some things that I once inspired to do such as run the Boston Marathon or climb more 14teeners in Colorado. Although I regret not having specific experiences in my life, in another way I am blessed and  hope there is still time to act on other goals.

I recently heard about a book by Bronnie Ware, The Top Five Regrets of the Dying. The list includes: (1) “I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me”; (2) “I wish I hadn’t worked so hard”; (3) “I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings”; (4) “I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends”; and (5) “I wish that I had let myself be happier.”

Rather than regrets, I have been thinking about what I can do now. A colleague reminded me that it is easy to wish these things when close to death, but harder to act upon them when alive. The good news is that there is still time to turn wishes into actions. I do not want to become overloaded with distractions that thwart these actions. The questions that are important for me to address relate to “how does” statements (e.g., “How does one have the courage to live a life true to oneself?” “How does one develop the courage to express their feelings?”)

I am thinking about how to let people know how I feel such as how much I like what they do or what they stand for, or how grateful I am that they are in my life. I want to regularly remember to be in contact with my family as well as friends who have been inspirational in my life. I am focusing on mindfulness and staying in the moment so I can feel happiness and joy when it comes to me. These actions are how I want to live now so I have fewer regrets and focus on actions rather than wishes at this time in my life.

Over 76 years ago, my great grandma Drexler sent a “Welcome for the New Baby” card to my parents. She included this original poem:

To Mother and Dad,

I am glad Karla Ann has come with you to dwell.

She may be like Mother or like Father, time will tell.

I am really thrilled because she is a little lass,

From what I expect she will have some class.

Six great grandchildren I claim as mine.

I suppose there will be more in no time.

To even the number to more boys there should be,

I am trusting you and Jim to that you will see.

Then toward your service you would have a good start,

You would really and truly be doing your part.

If you divide them even you would be discreet,

For your family would be complete.

                                                     Grandma Drexler

                                                   

I enjoyed this poem that my sister found among the memorabilia that my mother kept over the years. It struck me as enlightening given the times and the message.

My father returned from WW II, married my mom, and began farming in 1946. I came two years later. On an Iowa farm, having boys was necessary to help with the farming. I do not think my parents were disappointed with having a girl, but it meant, as my great grandma suggested, a boy should be coming along soon.

The suggestion did not work for my parents as they raised three girls and no boys. As the oldest, I became my father’s helper. I was delighted with that role. I fed the livestock and learned to drive a tractor when I was six years old. Household activities like cooking and sewing did not interest me much even though I learned those things along with farming chores. I was a “tomboy” and loved having that opportunity growing up. I was more like my dad than my mom. Today I pride myself in this farm girl identity.

Boys were desired for practical purposes, but I felt implicitly that parents preferred boys and privileged them over girls. I suspect that this influenced my feminist views and career academic research that examined gender differences and equity issues. I make no apologies for my personal beliefs and professional efforts, so this poem helped me better understand the roots of my upbringing.

I hope the message to girl babies today contrasted to the suggestion over three quarters of a century ago is that females are welcomed and have the same opportunities available that baby boys have for the future. Although I respect the sentiments of my great grandmother, I am glad that the world continues to evolve.

Given the choice of anyone, with whom (living or deceased) would you like to have dinner? I have reflected on this question with hypothetical responses. Being shy, it is hard to think about carrying on a meaningful dinner conversation with someone whom I admire. On the other hand, my choices reflect aspects of my personality.

I think of three people readily that would be my choice. My mom is my first choice. I have had dinner with her many times, but I would love to have one more time. I think about the discussions I had with my parents around the kitchen table in the last several decades. I remember fondly the two Christmas eves that mom and I (just the two of us) shared at a restaurant after going to church. I value those memories and would love to have one more opportunity.

Since the upcoming 7^th anniversary of my mother’s passing in a few weeks, I have reflected on what I knew and did not know about her life, especially her last years. I know about her, but I am not so sure I know how she felt about aging and her declining health. I would like to be able to talk about these attitudes and feelings, but now I can only speculate.

The second person that I immediately think about is Jane Addams. Although I am not an historian, I have dabbled in writing about her and her influence on my chosen profession in recreation. She was one of the most famous people in the United States at the beginning of the 20^th century. As the founder of Chicago’s Hull House, she aimed to improve the lives of immigrants in the city as well as throughout the country. Jane Addams was an outspoken pacifist and was strongly associated with the peace movement. I would love to have a conversation to discuss her ideas.

Although I would be tongue tied, I would like to have dinner with a current figure, Rachel Maddow. She is a prominent American television host, political commentator, and author. I admire her intellect and straightforward commentaries. I know something about her life but would love to be in her presence and hear her speak about her career and her challenges as well as future aspirations. I know it would be an intellectual and straightforward discussion.

These dining partners reflect my values and aspirations. It is fun to think about possibilities, but more important is to enjoy the current dinner opportunities I have in my life that are not hypothetical.

The TV program, Seinfeld, was famously dubbed “a show about nothing.” I sometimes feel that these blogs are about nothing. I write about things that are interesting to me, but I recognize that some people could view the musing as about nothing. Writing about nothing, however, does not mean it is not important. It could suggest that there is no plot, no agenda, no argument—just attention placed on an “ordinary” life in hopes that it may be interesting.

I enjoy the process of writing. My daily journalling is private only for me. On the other hand, I have delighted for decades in sharing my thoughts with others and hoping they will have meaning from time to time. I hope my journal articles from my past as well as my current creative writing have redeeming values depending on the reader’s perspective.

As I look back on the almost six years and 250+ blogs I have written, I see my ideas as fitting into four not mutually exclusive “nothing” categories: triviality that matters, wandering travels, wondering mind, and daily routines.

I enjoy writing about trivial observations that matter to me. For example, I wrote about coffee cups that were important to me. Another entry was about why pie has been significant in my life. Nothing happens, but something is observed.

My writing about nothing reflects wandering purposely for travel in the world as well as to natural environments close to home. I love to write about nature and what I observe related to animals as well as their anthropomorphic views of the world. I enjoy thinking about how to advocate for animals as well as noting their habits.

Since I titled this blog, wanderingwonderingwithkarla.net, I like to write about questions that I have about the world in which I live. Entries about the families we create as well as reflections on notions of resonance offer no resolution. They reflect no moral or lesson but an acknowledgement of the existence of a myriad of ideas in my world.

My writing about nothing also relates to routines in my life that reveal my personality. I enjoy thinking about my volunteering as well as the role that daily walking plays in my life.

I have stayed away from writing about politics in these blogs even though I am tempted. Many people can state political analyses better than me, and I also know that my readers profess a spectrum of opinions. So, I prefer to focus on nothing.

I hope my writing feels quieting, observant, sometimes funny, sometimes serious, and/or sometimes challenging. I will continue to write regularly not necessarily about events but from my consciousness, which is everything for me.