Month: January 2022

The day was a usual fall Saturday morning on my way to volunteer at Bear Lake. I usually leave home early and stop at Sprague Lake to decompress before the day with visitors, and to check out trail conditions. I go in my volunteer uniform but am not “officially” on duty until I reach Bear Lake.

The temperature was cool that October morning with a bit of snow here and there. The lake was quiet with a skim of ice and hardly a breeze. The trail was a bit icy but easily navigable. As I was walking along the board walk on the west side, I lingered a moment to look northwestward for moose who were sometimes in the nearby willows. I paused to admire the rays of the sun that were about to crest the eastern hillside.

A young man ambled by and stopped ten feet from me. We nodded to one another. After a short silence, the 20-something dressed in an unzipped parka and a blue stocking cap resting on his blond head said, “It’s a beautiful morning, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.”

“I saw a moose when I was out here yesterday morning,” he remarked.

“Wow, that’s great,” I replied. “I don’t see any signs this morning although it isn’t uncommon for them to be here.”

“I love this place.”

I waited a moment and then asked. “Where is home for you?”

“I’m from Atlanta. This is my first time in Rocky Mountain National Park. I flew to Denver four days ago and immediately came up here. I’m going back this evening.”

“You picked a great time to visit,” I responded.

“I needed this. It has been a tough time for me with COVID and work and everything. Coming here is the best thing I’ve ever done. It has restored my soul.” He paused and continued, “Do you live here?”

“Yes.”

“Do you ever get tired of it?”

I smiled, “No I don’t. Every day, every season is different. I don’t take this beauty for granted.”

“You are so lucky.”

We stood in silence for a moment and then I added, “I better get on with my day. It was nice to visit with you. Keep enjoying the park. Safe travels home.”

He smiled, “Thank you,” and I turned to continue my walk around the lake. I reminded myself of how nature heals consistently, and I can never take this place for granted. The best thing about meeting people in the park is that they show me continually how special these mountains are and how renewed I am to enjoy their nature every day.

People talk about returning to “normal” after the pandemic. The idea of a “new normal” is touted. These conversations have intrigued me to wonder what is meant by normal and whether or not normal is a useful idea.

This discussion may be moot as I am not sure what normal ever was nor if the good old days were better than now. Normal is a perception that may not exist. Normal may now mean that NOTHING is normal. As Davie Hollis noted, “In the rush to return to normal, use this time to consider what parts of normal are worth rushing back to.”  This reflection may be the challenge to our individual and collective futures.

COVID-19 has changed our lives drastically. People write about the disruption as well as the new opportunities. I think about what normal means if equated with the usual, average, or typical condition. Was that state so great? It is important relative to conditions of stability and consistency, and yet, change has been occurring so dramatically for years that I wonder if there is a usual order that we can or even want to count on. Normality may be a comfortable path but may not be interesting.

I have never felt like I was normal. I don’t mind being a bit quirky and am attracted to people who have similar dispositions. I feel that being atypical is not dreadful, but just who I am. I like it. People who want to be normal may lack imagination or courage.

Normal can be conflated with routine and I rejoice in the lack of routine that makes up my life. I like days that are predictable, but I also like days when I do not know what might happen and am open to adventure when it calls. Normal days are best when filled with gifts and opportunities. Something that is wonderfully surprising on a normal day is welcomed.

I do not know what the future holds. I do not expect that normal will exist again if it ever did. I don’t want to return to normal. I hope that abnormal with its connotations of anomalous and aberrant behavior does not become my normal. Yet, I resist defining an ordinary life for myself. I subscribe to what Val Kilmer observed, “There is no normal life. There’s just life. You live it.”

One of my pet peeves is people who overuse the word “awesome.” I hold that word in reverence. The popular usage refers to something extremely good. For me, however, I only use it when something is truly AWE-some. Those moments are highly attainable but few. As I further explore the word, I find deeper understandings concerning unexpected encounters with natural wonders and a feeling of being part of something larger than oneself.

Awe is difficult to define. Further, the meaning of the word has changed over time. Related concepts are wonder, admiration, and elevation. It is an omnipresent feeling of reverence, admiration, and fear produced by something grand, sublime, and powerful. Seeing something as beautiful or positive is not necessarily something that is formidable. Being in awe is a 10.0 on a 10.0 scale.

In Awe: The Delights and Dangers of Our Eleventh Emotion, neuropsychologist Paul Pearsall presented a phenomenological study of awe. He defined awe as an “overwhelming and bewildering sense of connection with a startling universe that is usually far beyond the narrow band of our consciousness.” Pearsall described awe as the 11th emotion beyond love, fear, sadness, embarrassment, curiosity, pride, enjoyment, despair, guilt, and anger. Awe may be the most overlooked, undervalued emotion.

Awe can be a positive or negative and most people associate it with the positive. People experience awe, especially aesthetic awe, when they are not in physical danger. It is interesting to me that “awful” seems to be the opposite of awesome although they can be related.

I am open to AWE experiences in my life and am thrilled when I feel that sense of wonder. Weeks ago, a major storm front come through the area. I started out walking near my house at daylight with clear quiet skies to the east. In five minutes, the sky became yellow and orange to the west with the rising sun reflecting toward the tumbling clouds coming over the continental divide. Minutes later, the clouds descended into the valley turning to dark gray, snow began to fall, the wind roared in, and a blizzard was upon me. It was awesome, and conjured mixed feelings of wonder, sublimity, and respect for nature.

Those same feelings of wonder and awe have come to me seeing a spectacular and highly unusual sunset, standing on top of a mountain with a 360-degree view, seeing ominous storm clouds towering in the distance, or hearing music that evokes a powerful nostalgic emotion. The feelings are humbling. Sentiments of awesomeness draw attention away from myself and toward something grand in the environment.

As I wander, I hope for experiences that fill me with awe. I want to feel connected to the world and the presence of something greater than my small self. For me, going outside, pausing, reflecting, and slowing down are pre-requisites for awe. Realizing awe refreshes my soul.

I think back nostalgically about my family and my early years growing up on an Iowa farm. Not everyone had an opportunity to experience the agrarian life of the 1950’s and I did not always appreciate it. In retrospect, however, I continue to practice these 10 observations every day.

1. Early to bed, early to rise makes a girl healthy, a little wealthy, and mostly wise. I still love getting up early.
2. An apple a day keeps the doctor way, and even more so if it appears in an apple pie or apple crisp.
3. After the rain is over, look for the rainbows and be ever hopeful about the pot of gold at the end. I chased rainbows as a kid and never found that pot of gold. I’m still looking.
4. Chores are routine regardless of the weather or how you feel. Animals don’t feed themselves. No excuses. Just do it.
5. When the going gets tough, don’t give up. You can’t control everything that happens. You may not achieve all that you desired, but something will happen as long as you stick with it. Later I incorporated Kenny Rogers’ advice, “You got to know when to hold ’em, know when to fold ’em, know when to walk away, and know when to run,” and my life has been more balanced.
6. Slow down and appreciate life. There is beauty everywhere. Farm life allows one to take “minute vacations” to savor the sunshine, the animals, and the landscape. I will never forget the farm woman I interviewed for a research project who talked about being in her hay barn and seeing the sun filtering through a window and feeling she was sitting in a cathedral.
7. An 8-hour day does not exist on the farm. This knowledge prepared me to work hard and play hard my whole life.
8. Be careful what you say on the telephone if you are on a party line. That admonition applies to social media these days as you never know where something might end up. I still hate to talk on telephones—thank goodness for carefully edited email and texting.
9. Saving even a penny is worth it. The pennies add up and you never know what the future might hold. Saving was a habit that allows me to live comfortably today.
10. Few things are accomplished alone. Farm life is not an individual endeavor, and you need family, neighbors, and friends. Helping others and asking for help when needed makes my life rich.

I am not romanticizing farm life and I know townies and city kids also learned valuable lessons. I am grateful for my roots, however, and the influence of the messages I received in my rural upbringing.