Interesting Converstation

I went to the eye doctor today to update my prescription, get a new pair of eyeglasses, and also refresh my sunglass prescription. It was the first time I had visited this eye doctor, so she asked me why I came in and I told her that I am moving and just wanted to get my eyes checked before the move. We chatted for a bit, she asked me a series of questions...where are you moving? What are you going to do for work? Are you single or married? Nowadays I just say single unless it is someone who I can captivate for over an hour. Once I told her single and moving to Montrose, she looked concerned and said, "Wow! It is going to be really hard to meet someone in a small town, isn't it?" I recognize transference when I see it, and noticed she does not have a wedding ring, and she is young, so perhaps her mind for herself is already focused on meeting someone. I just laughed her off and said, "Well, there is probably a Match.com or something in that area of the state", got my prescription (and I must note that next exam we may delve deeper into "progressives"...ugh...meeting 40 soon...), and I left.

Never once have I thought that if I move to Montrose my prospects of meeting a mate are less than zero.

But, in Denver, they are as well.

And, I already had the man of my dreams. Now my job is to have the life of my dreams. And this is another step toward that life.

I watch Oprah's "Super Soul Sunday" each week and she had the music artist India.Arie on last Sunday. India.Arie hit it big with music, lost herself, went into spiritual crisis, found herself, and is now on her path. She said one thing that spoke to me. "The one job we have in this life is to be ourselves." Yes. Yes. Yes.

Since Mike died, I never really determined who I was. I kind of stayed the same person only minus him. But I have had a number of reminders that I need to connect with who I am. I remember a phone conversation I had with Meg after a book club. My lovely book club, full of wonderful women who are moms, married, and lead professional work lives. I wasn't connecting, and every meeting I was feeling more and more isolated. I was trying to be the same kind of person as they were, but couldn't be which lead me to frustration that I was trying to fit a square peg in a round hole.

This journey to Grand Junction and Montrose is MINE! I get to do with it what I wish. And I get to fulfill my job to be myself. Maybe that person never meets the next man of her dreams. Maybe that person doesn't love the job or the area and chooses something different. Maybe that person snuggles in and embeds herself into this new community and lives there for the rest of her life. Who knows!

All I know is that signs point me in my direction. My love of Montrose back in 2000. My desire to leave city living behind. My desire to work in hospice and also work in community. The fact that my truck and house sold in perfect circumstances. I just need to breathe, listen, and move slowly but assuredly toward the next step. I have all the belief in the world that my next steps will be utterly amazing and exactly what I need to fulfill my job in life of being me.

Mindfulness

I spent the last year in grad school learning about self care, meditation, and mindfulness. I have always found these topics to be fascinating especially around the mind/body connection. One thing we learned was mindfulness when doing the dishes, driving, answering the telephone, taking a walk...just being present and not preoccupied with other things, thoughts, or distractions.

One thing we did not discuss is having mindfulness in times of distress. None of the above are distressing events, but experiencing my anxious yellow lab having diarrhea in the backseat of my car, all over his chocolate lab brother and my fabric car seats, as I went through Eisenhower tunnel today was not something I learned about in class with regards to mindfulness.

Let me back up and explain. Preparing to move has taken over my life since graduation and my job offer. I am completely and totally excited about it, and quite frankly wish I could say "Beam me up Scotty" and my house, along with everything in it, would be taken someplace I could access at a later date. But, no. I have to pack, put the house on the market, be out of it for showings, make decisions about who I will sign a contract with, and prepare for a new job in a new town. All by myself. Me, myself, and I. Now, I have had some help-Liz with the crawl space and respite at Mom and Dad's yesterday with the dogs for 5 hours while the house was being shown-but most everything is being done by me.

Foresight is a hard thing to come across when selling a house. I invited my folks up to Dillon for a night with the dogs and me tonight because I wanted to A) Spend time with them, B) Enjoy 80 degree weather instead of 90 and C) Be gone while the house was being shown. Little did I know that once the house was on the market (Monday) and showings were scheduled ASAP (Tuesday) that I would have to be out of the house most of the day Tuesday with my anxious, large, overzealous, totally loving, awkward, 90 lb labs.

It was all too much for Stan. After 11 years of knowing him, I am finally understanding him. He thrives on consistency and predictability. Otherwise, he goes nuts, or as Oprah would put it, "Becomes out of alignment with the universe." Thus, ever since I have been getting ready to put the house on the market (cleaning, packing, having people over here and there) he has been off kilter. Hence, the diarrhea in the car today. I think all he wanted was to get "back to normal." Sorry, big guy, we aren't going to see normal for a while.

Which leads me to say that I have a lot to learn about mindfulness. Because, after weeks of packing and sleepless nights I was hoping for one night of respite. And I didn't get it. Instead of being mindful, and taking a "Que Sera Sera" approach, I yelled, slammed things down, cursed, and wished for a martini at 3pm-and I don't even drink martini's. My parents were patient and understanding as I pulled up to the hotel in Dillon where we were staying after calling to say that Stan pooped the car and we have to turn around and go home. This trip to Dillon was my idea, so I was feeling like I let everyone down. Needless to say, we came home, I turned the hose on the boys to their utter dismay, hand vacuumed and shampooed the car (I will get it professionally cleaned as well, in case you, the reader, is to ever ride in the back), I ordered Indian food, and we all settled in for the night in front of Master Chef on television.

After our unexpected day, the most poignant was as I was watching TV, Stan came over to me to lay down. He was still wet from the bath, and I had the AC on, so he was probably cold. I put a blanket on him and pet him as we sat together. And I thought, "I have had upset stomachs before...I have had to ask (or plead) family or friends pull into a gas station so I could use the bathroom. He tried to tell me, but he couldn't, what he needed. He and I are not that much different." It was endearing, and it got me to realize that maybe mindfulness can happen later, after the disappointment, frustration, anger...maybe mindfulness can happen in retrospect once I can appreciate the situation for what it is...Life.

As I have told Meg, "What I don't like about life, I love about life." That unpredictability could lead to your dog with diarrhea in the car, or a beautiful night in Dillon looking up as the stars shimmer over the reservoir. The most important thing is that I am here to experience it, whatever turn it takes.

As of this afternoon...

...On the market!

Note to self

My dear Melanie,

I have been meaning to ask you this since you accepted a job in another town and decided to move...why, oh why, have you purchased so much stuff in your life? Why, oh why, haven't you cleaned out under your bed for a number of years, or scrubbed under the bathtub, or dusted the walls? Because now, you are in a cleaning and packing...bad dream (the kind where you feel like you are suffocating under water)...for lack of a better term.

I know, I know...retail therapy can be so satisfying. And who wants to crawl around on a floor with a vacuum on a weekend? But...now you are paying the price. Yes, every item of clothing you have is really cute and you try to wear each one...your 25 pairs of shoes cover all seasons, even the pairs you found after 2 years under your bed...you can never resist buying that cute pair of earrings...and what is one more book, right?

It all adds up, my dear, into stuff, stuff, stuff. You should consider what you are contributing to the landfill right now. Your ecoprint, my friend, is a dark shade of gray...not green.

This is not a note to shame you...rather, remind you to put things in perspective...

You have amassed over your lifespan a pretty remarkable genre of books, items, and clothing with which you feel kindred. The English tea set from Aunt Kakie. The Parisian painting in your dining room. Every book Tim O'Brien ever wrote. Those earrings your friend made and the ones from Santa Fe. Use those items, my friend, and don't be seduced by those Crate and Barrel advertisements, a trip to 5 Green Boxes, or a saunter into Anthropologie. Your style is already among the things you own, so use them, wear them, and entertain in and with them proudly. And remember, your shine from the inside is what matters most, not all the stuff that surrounds it.

Yours truly,

Your dear Melanie

Ramblings

It has been a busy few weeks since I graduated. I have been getting my basement organized-Mike and I put so much stuff in our crawlspace, and I am unearthing so many things that have been forgotten. My favorite was a box of cassette tapes from high school with a note on it to me: "Future project-write down titles and get CD's". Well, that never happened because that box has been living in a crawlspace for 12 years!

I have been trying to infuse a little fun into my weeks, and a few naps. Yesterday I went to the Gardens with Susan and her new baby girl. I haven't spent much time with Susan so it was a nice way to spend the morning. I then got summer fever as I joined Meg and her family at the community pool and ate pizza. We watched a movie later. It felt good to decompress and be with good friends.

Today, I am back at it. Only, though, after mourning the loss of James Gandolfini. I saw every episode of The Sopranos, sometimes twice. He was a captivating actor, and I found myself having a crush on his Tony Soprano character because there was something about him. RIP Mr. Gandolfini and thank you for years of entertainment.

Sometimes you just need to lean in

Two notable experiences happened this week. Both were a reminder that sometimes in life, you just need to lean in.

The first, and really most important, is that Dad and I hiked the Hanging Lake trail today. He has wanted to do it for a few years now, as we all try to get to Glenwood every year for the pool and are called to the seduction of the Hanging Lake trail every time we drive through the canyon. What I love about this trail is the myth that surrounds it. Some say it used to be easier; some say it was recently renovated; some say it is one of the hardest trails...everyone has their memories of years past hiking that trail. I know I do, but I can't remember if it was easy or hard. It is as if once you master the trail it wipes all memory of the experience out of your mind.

I must admit, I was anxious this morning about the hike. I didn't want to chicken out and let Dad down, but I also know my body has limits. I was remembering a hike to Mt. Sanitas in Boulder where I went with a friend but couldn't even make it halfway up. Dad may have had some anxiety as well, but he didn't say it nor show it. We both gave each other the okay that if it got too hard we could come back down. But in my heart of hearts, I knew that I was in it. 

The first part of the trail was like stairstepping rocks. Luckily, Dad brought his ski poles and shared one with me. Then the trail might even out, then more rocks, then really steep sandy gravel. We happened upon six bridges and each bridge got a "woo hoo" from me because it meant straight and level ground for at least a few steps. I was sweaty, glasses foggy. Dad was careful, purposeful. We only saw a few people going up the trail as it was early. The end of the trail were these steep stairs that I almost turned my back on. But I knew I couldn't do that to Dad.

We got to the lake and it was stunning. A real wonder of the natural world. It was chilly but the sky was clear as was the water. We saw fish swimming and ecosystems filled with thick growth. I had left my camera in the car, so I am appropriating this picture that was posted online by "the Fletcher family"...

We sat there a bit, chatted with another person who had ventured up as well, and then headed back down. Going down on this trail is almost harder than going up. Not only must you watch your footing, your thighs are weak from the effort it took to climb the dirt trail, rocks and stairs. Jello would be the word to describe the legs during the descent. The pole was helpful but then I started constantly putting pressure on the one arm with the pole so that arm is sore. Dad scaled down beautifully and I was a bit of a mess, convinced I left my legs at the lake. It felt good when we were closer to our destination than the new hikers were to theirs.

At the end, I looked like a sweaty mess. Dad, on the other hand, looked just as dapper as he always does. Cowboy hat intact, no visible sweat, and only a little dirt on his pants...while I looked like I stood under the waterfall all morning. We went back to the car and got the camera. I knew we needed to commemorate this somehow...

The second notable happening is that I got a job. Not even one week out of social work school and I have been hired! It wasn't seeming that optimistic before graduating as I had applied to numerous places a month before graduation and was rejected or never heard back. I happened upon a social worker job opening at a hospice that covers Grand Junction, Montrose and Delta. I thought, "What the Heck!" and put in my application. They invited me to interview Monday, so I made it into a little vacation. I got to know Montrose, had my interview, and then drove through Grand Junction to Glenwood Springs. All the while, the little voice in the back of my head was asking me about moving, how I felt the interview went, and what I would do if the woman called me to hire me. I kept checking voicemail all week to no avail, until today, when I got her call. She asked "Would you like to come work for us?" I had done so much thinking all week I said, "Yes Please!" The opportunity is great...it is a reputable hospice with a monopoly of the industry in the valley. It reminded me a lot of Agape where I interned, plus it is a full time gig with all the benefits adults enjoy-health insurance, 403B plan, good pay, and licensure supervision for my clinical license free of charge. Every job I found in Denver was part-time, no benefits, and on call during hours not working. So, I had to weigh the move with the great opportunity that it is. I think the boys and I will enjoy the adventure. Montrose is within an hour of Telluride, Ouray, Gunnison, and Crested Butte. Weekends will be full of adventure for sure!

I enjoyed the time away, though it took until Wednesday to get relaxed. I drove through Palisade, where the orchards aren't yet blooming but it is still pretty. I love this picture-the brown and gray colors along with the vibrant greens...and the other picture-no produce was available just yet but I love the idea of this along a random road...

The drive to the interview was nice-I took US 50 over Monarch Pass. The views were pretty, though I ran into road work an hour before my interview which shattered my nerves...

Dad met me in Glenwood yesterday afternoon. In the morning, I drove to my favorite spot-Redstone. Like my flowers this year, some of the small mountain towns are waking up later in the season due to the lingering cold weather. Thus, none of the stores were really open, but I managed to grab a shot of Mt. Sopris...

I managed, too, to find one of my beloved Gnomes atop a post at a local store...

Sometimes, in life, you just need to lean in. Enjoy the scenery. Take hold of new opportunities. Life is so much like a river. Take the Crystal River for example, that runs along Carbondale and Redstone. No part of that river ever stays the same-It changes with the environment, the seasons, the rushing water. From Herman Hesse:

"But out of all secrets of the river, he today only saw one, this one touched his soul. He saw: this water ran and ran, incessantly it ran, and was nevertheless always there, was always and at all times the same and yet new in every moment! Great be he who would grasp this, understand this! He understood and grasped it not, only felt some idea of it stirring, a distant memory, divine voices."

It came, it went, it was truly great!

Last night Robert and I went to the Fleetwood Mac concert. We bought tickets 9 or so months ago, so it has been in the back of my mind that June 1st would be a spectacular night. And they did not disappoint!

They began the concert a tad late, but there was no opening act. Thus, the anticipation for them to come onstage was thick. Once they did, the crowd erupted in applause and I think I started losing my voice at the beginning of the concert I was screaming so much. They played until 10:55pm with no break. Not bad for a bunch of 60 pluses (man, when I am 65 I do want to look like Stevie Nicks! She is gorgeous!). 

They played a really great variety of music. You know when you see bands that haven't performed together for a while, sometimes they do a reunion tour around an album they just released, and maybe only play one or two favs. Fleetwood Mac mainly played favs, with a few songs peppered in that they recently wrote, and two that were uncovered after being underground since the 70's. There was this beautiful ballad Lindsey and Stevie sang together...sounded like Simon and Garfunkel.

We had nosebleed seats but they were smack dab in the center of the arena so we had the perfect view. It was truly one of those experiences I am so glad I didn't miss.