Wandering and Wondering

I was a stranger 10 days earlier. During the festivities marking the end of Ramadan, however, I was treated as a dear family member. This occasion happened 50 years and its memory is extraordinary for me. To celebrate, I am observing the holy month of Ramadan in a personal way.

Ramadan is the ninth month of the Islamic lunar calendar and is a time of fasting, prayer, reflection, and community for Muslims worldwide. I am not a Muslim but have known many Muslims through personal and professional connections over the years.

I first learned of Ramadan (called Ramazan in Türkiye) when I spent six months on an international exchange program in Türkiye. I participated in the experience with two host families. During Ramadan, Muslims fast from dawn until sunset and abstain from food, drink, smoking, and marital relations during the daylight hours. At sunset, a large meal shared with family and friends breaks the daily fast.

In addition to fasting, Muslims increase their prayers and engage in acts of charity and kindness throughout the month. In some ways the traditions are like what Christians, especially Catholics, might experience during Lent. Ramadan concludes with the festive day of Eid al-Fitr marked by prayers, feasting, and the giving of gifts. It is a time of joy and gratitude.

During the latter days of the month of Ramazan in Türkiye, I was staying with an extremely poor farm family in Samsun, close to the Black Sea. I was supposed to move to another family right before the end of Ramazan and my host family asked if I could stay for the Eid al-Fitr. I loved the joy of that celebration and the variety of food that came in endless amounts.

I am not fasting from sunrise to sunset, but I am keeping Ramadan by not eating sugar or drinking alcohol or sweet drinks during the daytime. I decided to undertake this gesture to remind myself of the specialness of my Muslim friends.

Ramadan will end this year on April 8. I will celebrate it quietly as I remember my time in Türkiye and the Muslim friends that I have known. I will also remember how the tenets of Islam and my Christianity are similar in the focus on gratitude, generosity, love, and kindness.

My two cats (siblings) have a birthday this month. I am not sure of the exact date since their feral mom gave birth to them in a rural North Carolina garage. I have chosen my great niece’s birthday on March 23 since she was born that day 14 years ago. In human years, they are now 72 years old-almost as old as me!

I love these kitties as I have loved the previous four cats that were integral to my life. I could not find the reference for the title of this blog, but it resonated with me. Anyone who has loved an animal has experienced the joy and connections that these family members give. I will not try to put into words what most people feel about their beloved pets.

Several weeks ago, however, I was talking with friends about my cats. I remarked that Gitch had had a urethra obstruction that required surgery and hospitalization and cost me several thousand dollars. One person questioned why I would have spent that money on a cat. In my mind it was a “no-brainer.” Although it hit my pocketbook, I had savings in reserve for emergencies and this certainly was one. My heart hurts for people who might not have the means to save a cherished pet in crisis.

My kitties had their annual well checks three weeks ago. Although they each have health issues (Mog has hypothyroidism and Gitch has a heart murmur plus the propensity to another urethra problem), they are doing well. I recognize they are aging just as I am. They have slowed down just as I have.

I do not dwell on their journey over the rainbow bridge someday, but I want them to have the best lives they can until that happens. I also know that it is possible that I may not live as long as them, so I have a financial plan set up in a trust for the care of any of my pets that might outlive me.

Pets require great attention. Inflation has impacted the cost of health care, medication, and prescription food for my darlings. Yet, my life with my cats is priceless. Happy Birthday Mog and Gitch!

Bunny tracks in the snow, ice crystals clinging to grasses, a gentle warning from a fellow walker about ice ahead, the chirping of a chickadee—these are incidents that happened one morning as I was walking along Lake Estes. I call them smile snacks.

Several weeks ago, I read an article about “joy snacks” in the Washington Post (WP). Although I liked that notion, I think of joy as something internal and broad. The events that happen serendipitously in my life and cause a physical external reaction on my face are what I call smile snacks.

I asked ChatGPT what it knew about joy snacks or smile snacks, and it suggested it might be some kind of product one could buy. Obviously “artificial intelligence” was wrong and not able to articulate what the emotions of joy or smiles might mean.

Smile snacks are identifiable to me and something I am open to each day. They provide a way of tuning into the pleasant, lovely, and unexpected experiences of my everyday living.

Smile snacks improve the mood of my day. Big events that make me happy are important, but these smaller experiences add up to bring meaning. These positive emotions help me feel connected to a bigger world. One of the co-authors of the WP article noted that, “It’s not just about you creating meaning in your head… It’s about detecting meaning that’s already out there.”

Recently I came across another similar idea called glimmers. “Glimmers are those moments in the day that make you feel joy, happiness, peace, or gratitude. Once you train your brain to be on the lookout for glimmers, these tiny glimmers will occur more and more.”

I prefer the idea of smile snacks because it evokes turning up the corners of my mouth. Physiologically in a stressful situation, a smile relaxes one’s face and can lower stress.

Being open to smile snacks is important. They do not happen all the time, but I am learning to acknowledge when those opportunities occur. Noting beauty, having a brief connection, or remembering something special provides emotional nourishment to me.

I love living near Rocky Mountain National Park (RMNP) and donating hours each week to volunteering in various capacities. I embrace the idea that Ken Burns and others promoted about the story of the US National Parks as uniquely American and radical in that the “most special places in the nation should be preserved, not for royalty or the rich, but for everyone.”

This movement is monumental, and I applaud the efforts to expand the story of these special places that include natural beauty and wildlife habitat, historical events, and cultural significance.

The National Park Service (NPS) was established in 1916. The creation marked a significant milestone in the conservation movement in the United States as it aimed to protect the nation’s natural and cultural heritage for future generations. Today, the NPS manages over 400 sites including national parks, monuments, historic sites, and recreational areas. Recent efforts have promoted the understanding and appreciation of diverse natural and cultural resources.

This inclusion involves acknowledging events that are not necessarily happy stories. Yet, these accounts are necessary to honor American history. In the past month, the Amache Historical Site was dedicated near Granada, Colorado. It was one of ten incarceration sites during World War II to unjustly incarcerate Japanese Americans. The website suggests it is “a place to reflect, recommit, and further the pursuit of freedom and justice.”  In New York City last month, I visited the African Burial Ground National Monument. I had no idea about that history.

Although RMNP is almost 110 years old, telling the story of the park is moving toward recognizing better what Indigenous people contributed. One of the interpretive rangers working on this project emphasizes that the natural and cultural history is not being rewritten, but the story of RMNP can be more inclusive with better interpretations of the history through collaboration with Indigenous communities.

It remains crucial for the NPS to continue to address issues often overlooked in American history. I am proud that Rocky Mountain National Park is working to contribute to a more inclusive and equitable representation of America’s diverse heritage within this national park.

“You are in me, like a ring inside a tree. I won’t forget it.” This quote came from a book I recently read, The Exiles. This idea resonated with me as I have been thinking about people that I currently know or once knew.

This book was difficult to read because of descriptions of suffering people. It has, however, moments of hope and joy as it tells the overlapping story of three mostly resilient women—two who were exiled to Australia because of alleged crimes committed in England and one whose only crime was being born Aboriginal. The historical fiction is thought-provoking. Although not a happy story, the rings of a tree metaphor highlighted the female friendships.

If you have followed my blogs, you know that I have come to love trees and all their symbolisms. The ideas that the three women shared about rings of the trees inspired me.

Angelina first described, “When you cut down a tree, you can tell how old it is by the rings inside. The more rings, the sturdier the tree. So…I imagine I am a tree. And every moment that mattered to me, or person I loved, is a ring. …All of them, keeping me strong.” Later, Mathinna whose story ended sadly, reiterated to her friend Hazel, “And every ring is someone ye care about, or a place that you’ve been. Ye carry them with ye wherever ye go.”

I am grateful for the rings of people and experiences that give me sturdiness today. I think of my life in stages of time and remember fondly those who influenced me most. I cherish those growing up friends that I continue to care about even though some have passed away. The professional friends that became personal friends continue to inspire me. I value the friendships I made through sports, running, music, and most recently volunteering. All keep me strong.

I hope to gain more rings over time and am bolstered by what I have within me today. I like carrying those rings of people, places, and experiences in my trunk.

I recently returned from a few days in New Orleans and New York City. I enjoy my city visits that make me grateful for living in the country. I take pride in my rural roots in Iowa. In addition, however, I seek opportunities to visit cities for short periods of time. I like what both cities and rural areas have to offer.

City life and country living pose distinct differences with advantages as well as challenges. My recent city visit was a contrast to the first 25 years of my life and the recent 10 years of retirement where rural environments have been my home.

Cities and country life are not necessarily a dichotomy. In my 35 “in between” years, I mostly lived in the middle of these two contrasts. Madison, WI and Durham, NC were not big cities and offered a blend of city amenities as well as proximity to the outdoors. One reason I resonate with parks and outdoor recreation as a profession is because of the way that cities, whether large or small, can offer outdoor nature-based activities.

Cities have advantages. For example, cities embody diverse cultures that highlight different cuisines, languages, and customs. Cities often provide numerous opportunities for entertainment such as theaters, museums, and restaurants.

Rural living has many of these same advantages in fewer ways. Estes Park has ethnic restaurants and entertainment in the form of high school music and theatre as well as community musical groups and arts. The natural beauty, peaceful landscapes, and proximity to nature that my small town offers, however, are important to me and why I chose my current country residence. Further, rural areas usually have cleaner air and healthier environments with outdoor recreation activities that lead to active living. My rural community fosters social connections and a sense of belonging.

Where one chooses to live is often a personal preference. The possibilities might also be based on career goals and social needs. My choices today are based on the quality of life that I seek in rural living.

Some people have more choice than others. I am grateful for the options regarding the places I visit and where I have chosen to live. I am thankful for this beautiful rural area and opportunities to make sojourns to cities for cultural visits. I am blessed with both worlds.

The gray wolf is native to Colorado. Historically, wolves lived in Colorado in all major habitats. During the latter half of the 1800s, hunters decimated wolf prey such as bison, elk, and deer. At the same time, domestic livestock were increasing in numbers. Because wolves killed livestock and game, they were eradicated from Colorado through shooting, trapping, and poisoning by the mid-1940s. Government sponsored predator control eliminated wolves throughout the western United States.

I have had little contact with wolves other than hearing them howling at night when I camped at Isle Royale 40 years ago. I thought they provided a beautiful melody and had no concern for my safety. I also have seen the wolves through high-powered telescopes at Yellowstone National Park. I loved the variety of colors of their fur. I wonder if I will hear them again someday. And of course, I had an affinity for wolves when I worked at North Carolina State University and supported the Wolfpack!

Colorado now has suitable habitat for wolves that includes sufficient prey and public land. A small group has been living in the state. In 2020, however, Coloradans voted to re-introduce wolves with only a tiny 50.4% majority of the vote. I studied the proposal and although I recognize the value wolves add to biodiversity, I did not know if this reintroduction would work, especially in an area with a urban-wildlife interface.

Nevertheless, 12 wolves donated by the state of Oregon were released about 75 miles to the west of where I live several weeks ago. I pray they will be self-sustaining and create a viable population.

The reintroduction of wolves into areas where they had been extirpated has both ecological and social implications. Their presence can lead to a more balanced diverse ecosystem as they help control herbivore populations and prevent overgrazing.

Further, wolves exhibit complex social structures within their packs. Observing and studying these social dynamics can provide valuable insights into animal behavior and communication. Their presence offers educational opportunities for the public to learn about and appreciate wildlife conservation.

A downside to wolves returning exists. Wolves might prey on domestic animals, leading to conflicts with ranchers and farmers. If abundant wildlife is available, however, this predation is unlikely to happen. Further, fears exist about human-wolf conflict. Although human interactions seldom occur, their reintroduction can lead to negative perceptions and fears.

The reintroduction of wolves is complex and multifaceted involving ecological, social, economic, and political considerations. I hope these wolves create a balance between conservation goals and the concerns of local communities.

I am fascinated by what artificial intelligence (AI) means to the world (and to me). It is here to stay. Like many aspects of technology, AI has both benefits and drawbacks. I have been playing with it as I write these blog posts and have mixed feelings. If I were still in higher education, I would be thinking deeply about this issue as I contemplate how it can help me as well as others (my students) become better and more creative writers.

I experiment with AI as I write these days. A benefit is increased efficiency in generating ideas. I have especially found it useful in creating titles for blogs. I have not used any of the generated titles, but the suggestions stimulate my thinking about how to make a title more appealing. AI also offers creative ideas that I can use as a foundation for my thoughts about a given topic. As I noted in my blog about socks, asking an AI program to give me history about socks speeded my research about the topic. My task was then to edit the suggestions and personalize the ideas.

As I write (and the advice I would give if I were still evaluating student papers), I want to critically evaluate the information provided. Since my blogs are about personal reflections in wandering and wondering, I remind myself to reflect on the facts that AI uncovers that I can relate personally.

I asked an AI program to highlight implications for drafting personal essays. It suggested that “writers can use AI tools to analyze data, gather insights, and support their arguments. This can enhance the depth and credibility of personal essays.” Although AI excels at data-driven questions, creativity and emotional intelligence are needed. Limitations exist because human experiences are not illuminated. AI stimulates my creativity, but it cannot accurately reflect my attitudes, insights, emotions, and feelings.

I have no conclusions about this tool. Much will unfold in the coming months and years. AI can be valuable and has implications for both good and evil. I will capitalize on its potential just as I use other tools such as the internet and computers. I am open to broader implications for myself, human experiences, and writing.

Every year our library chooses a “One Book, One Valley” selection. This year it was The Stranger in the Woods: The Extraordinary Story of the Last True Hermit. This story is about a man who lived alone in the woods of Maine for 27 years. In 1986, Christopher Knight left his home and disappeared into the forest. He did not have a conversation with another human being until three decades later when arrested for stealing food. He lived in a tent year around and developed ways to store edibles and water, and to avoid freezing to death. He broke into nearby cottages for food, clothing, reading material, and other provisions. Michael Finkel, a journalist, interviewed Knight and authored the book about the solitude and isolation that this “hermit” experienced.

The book was an easy read and the library offered various programs that addressed issues raised in the book such as homelessness, solitude, isolation, and how to survive in the woods. I resonated with questions about what aloneness and solitude might mean. I would not choose to withdraw from society, but I see the value of solitude, especially related to being outdoors.

Solitude can be a purposeful and enriching experience. Aloneness is a neutral or positive state of being by oneself, often chosen for personal reasons. It can be refreshing. Loneliness, however, is a negative emotional state stemming from a lack of meaningful connections. I value and seek community connections often and also enjoy solitude. Those possibilities are not mutually exclusive. What one does comes down to the opportunities for choice.

I appreciate solitude and silence in the outdoors. As an introvert, I enjoy self-sufficiency and contentment. Solitude in nature allows me a tranquil environment away from the craziness of the world. Finkel suggested that each of us should consider spending just 5 minutes in solitude every day—something that few people do. Solitude and silence provide a necessary space for self-reflection to bring more perspectives to daily relationships.

According to the book, the hermit did not contemplate his situation. He chose to not relate to people as he focused on how to stay alive. In trying to understand him, however, one can wonder about how and why an individual might choose this life year after year. I am grateful that I can temporarily experience solitude and aloneness, and that I also have meaningful social connections.

Over three decades ago, I was traveling with a group of people to Baja Mexico where we were spending a week living in nature and exploring the meaning of solitude and places/spaces. At a rest stop along the Pacific we took a break from the drive to do a get-acquainted activity. We were asked to find something on the beach that “spoke” to us and describe it to the group. I looked and looked to find a shell that was flawless for the assignment. I came back to the group and apologized that most shells were damaged, and I couldn’t find what resonated with me. One of the participants asked, “Why does it have to be perfect?” That question started the pursuit of why perfection was so important to me. How was striving for perfection effecting my life?

My father was a perfectionist. He went to great lengths to get things exactly right. My mother was somewhat the opposite. She wanted to get things done efficiently and that trumped perfection for her. I needed to be both perfect and productive. How did I compromise those expectations? And how did I do it in a way that did not coopt my values or alienate others?

Since retirement, I feel less pressure to be professionally perfect, but still struggle with it personally. I do not like the stress and anxiety of pursuing perfection and am learning to adapt. For example, when I write I want to produce the perfect sentence. I have realized over time to just get the ideas down initially and then strive for excellence as I edit. If I wanted to write perfectly the first time, I would never write anything. Perfectionism leads to procrastination and overthinking.

Voltaire advocated, “Don’t let the perfect be the enemy of good.” I have tried to abide by this idea. I refuse, however, to believe that “good enough” is OK. Doing the best I can do has become more important than the pursuit of perfection.

As I eventually learned from that sandy beach years ago, “a beautiful thing is never perfect” as the Egyptian proverb goes. Pursuing excellence and finding balance is helping me lead a more contented life.