IRL Moments

November is an exciting month. This fall has been phenomenal and I feel like things are just getting better and better. Wait, no, I didn't mean to write that. Things have been good, and then the end of October took a bit of a dive, so I realized I needed to do some planning to better things and make November wonderful.

November is obviously a great time to reflect on blessings and think of all the great things in our lives. It's a time for service, for thinking of others and getting into that happy Christmas spirit of charity and love and forgiveness. So as I pondered how to make this month great, and how to stop being selfish and thinking about myself, I realized that I have a problem, one that maybe you can understand.

I live almost entirely in my head. I block out the present so often to think about the past or the future. I don't think everyone is as dysfunctional as I am; whenever I'm around the Lewis (Bate!) family I think "now here is a group of people who really know how to live, how to enjoy each moment and make the most of it." Maybe you disagree Liz, but I just feel like in general you guys are pretty good at being present and not getting stuck in your mind. That's how I want to be. And I feel that's one way of showing gratitude and appreciation for life-by loving it and experiencing it fully, whatever it is, not wishing for something else.

So as I pondered this, I remembered my IRL moment in Chicago. In Real Life. A truly life-defining moment when I stood in front of that little stage in that little club on Lincoln Avenue, watching Cloud Cult perform some of my all-time favorite music, and I felt alive. I felt present like I rarely do, experiencing my life to the fullest because it was so worth experiencing. And I wondered then why these moments are so rare, why so few things in my life warrant my full attention.


The things that do stick out to me, that bring me into my reality every time, include snowboarding, surfing, the first little while in Albania, when everything was so new and incredible and I tried to take it all in (mos Lizi, e di qe isha e frikesuar dhe e cmendur, dhe nuk isha vete veten, ne fillim, por edhe isha e zguar gjithemone...hmm. ose jo? ndoshte nuk punon kjo shembull), every Cloud Cult concert I've been to and especially shaking Craig's hand (oh my gosh!!! that still makes me a little giddy), watching sunsets and snow-tipped mountains, looking at the night sky, all things that bring me into myself  and the present.

One reason people like "dangerous" or intense activities, like sky diving, or snowboarding, or rock climbing, or what have you, are because these things force you to be aware, to be in your body and sensing the world around you, or you could die. Every near-out-of-control activity forces you to rely on instinct; mind wandering just doesn't work. Traveling I think is the same way; it gets you out of your bubble and your mindset and forces you to look at things differently, to observe people and places and customs, whether out of curiosity or survival, it doesn't matter. Your eyes are open. Connections with others, connections with earth, recquire an act or awareness in the present. Such wonderful moments. But so rare!

The thing is, every moment warrants my full attention. Every moment could be just as beautiful. I just need to learn how, learn how to see, live, breathe each moment, instead of escaping to some place I've created in my mind, to some projection of the future or some remembrance of the past. So this month is dedicated to IRL moments, to being present to experience not only my life, but also to be aware of others around me, and hopefully be more able to help them, to connect with them, to serve them.

So join me if you dare! Participate fully in life this month. And I'd love to hear about your own moments, love to hear what brings you to a sense of awareness and being you don't normally experience. New babies? New hobbies? New loves? Lets be grounded to life by the sheer awesomeness of each minute, each opportunity to live and love and share.

Happy November!

What Do You See?

So I realized something today as I came home from a run. I was walking to cool down a bit, and noticed a sign for a restaurant. I couldn't even tell you how many times I've seen this sign; I live across the street from it now, and I've driven past it countless times during my ten year stint in Provo. But I don't think I've ever really seen it before today.

I don't see things. I see what the things mean. What that sign means to me is that there's a red lobster very close. (Your red lobster julie!) But what about the sign itself? What is it made of? How long has it been there? How sturdy is it, how long will it be there in the future? Is it a big sign or small one? If I just stop and think about it from memory, from one of the many times I've passed that sign, I would not be able to answer any of those questions. I just don't pay attention to details. Should I? Do you?

There are so many things around us that just become part of the background. Tonight I sat by an empty parking lot, writing silly things under the moonlight, and then I looked up and saw all these poles all over this deserted parking lot. Poles. What were they for? How tall were they? How many? Just little things that I'm sure I've never even observed before, never had any conscious thought about. It's weird. How much of our surroundings, how much of our world, just gets regulated to the background?

I know that's a part of what keeps us running, being able to tune out stimuli that are not impacting us or important to us, or else we'd be overwhelmed by the myriad of movements and details all around us. But I think sometimes it's neat to stop and look around, and truly see that tree over there, or that person riding past on a bike. A real person, who is connected to me forever from that one moment that we shared in space and time. hmm.

Time

Time since...
~I last ate meat = 2 months 17 days

~I last saw Cloud Cult live = One month (too long!)

~I went camping for real = I don't even know the last time!!!! That's horrible. Way too long.

 ~I got the PT Cruiser last time = 2 years and a month

~I went snowboarding = 6 months

~I last dyed my hair = 6 months

~I got my scooter = 2 1/2 months

~Time till i can't ride him anymore = I don't want to think about it!!!

~I first stepped on Albanian soil = 6 years. Six years people, geez!

~I last did Joannie Greggins = No idea, but Karen, who somehow ended up with the video tape, just sent it to me thinking it was mine and she had stolen it from me. Want it back Julie?

~I got my very own bed and private room = 10 months. And I love it. The bed especially.

~I graduated from college = 2 years 6 months

~I graduated from high school = ahhh, 10 years. :(

~I dropped out of Grad School = 6 months

~I started contemplating this tatoo = 4 months. Rather than scolding me for this one, lets celebrate my show of restraint in not just impulsively getting it done, as I so often did with my hair. That said, pretty sure it's going to happen.

~I last saw Dan = don't even know. Are you interested in soup in pumpkin bread bowls? cause i want to see you and i'd make such a thing for you (and friends?) if it would make you hang out with me. (or maybe i'm just trying to get you to comment on my blog. do you still read this?)

~I went to a hockey game = Almost a year? Was halloween the last one I went to? whew, fix that soon.

~I became the Field Administrative Assistant at Outback = 3 months

~I saw my older brother = almost a year. Last Thanksgiving. that's sad.

This post is sad. For some reason I thought it was fun at first. Now I think it's just lame. ah well. here ya go!        

Ode to Dusk

Oh Dusk, thou art so fair
The lovely gleam upon thy hair
Thy precious sky makes me stare
And yearn thy loveliness to share...

Okay so this isn't really that kind of ode. I just realized, driving home tonight as the shadows lengthened and the sky turned a deeper shade of blue, that dusk is my favorite time of day.

I've had this thought before. I think it when I see outlines of mountains, stark guardians standing out solidly against the rest of the hazy world, their forms gaining strength as others blur, colorless and firm.

I've thought it watching sunsets light the sky on fire with brilliant orange and red clouds fanning out from the setting sun.

I've thought it listening to the night sounds, the noises of the world growing quiet while crickets and birds sing their last songs for the day.

But tonight was different. Tonight I realized the real power of dusk. It is in this time as in no other time that I can be completely, unreservedly, myself. There is some magic power that unites my soul to my body, and all images or frustrations or concerns just sort of melt away till all that is left is my bare, rejoicing spirit.

 I spent eight hours today working with a person I do not particularly enjoy being around. I was impatient and silently sarcastic, thinking mean things I would never say to him like:

"I can't imagine how I wouldn't have put that together myself" or

"What could possibly make you think I care about that? Stop talking!!!!"

One lesson to be learned here is that I am mean and judgemental, which is true but not the point. The point is, until dusk I felt anger towards him and resentment that I must spend the time with him. Filled with such unhappy thoughts, my mind obviously was not much geared towards revelling in being alive and I certainly wasn't feeling my-self-ish; I had shut down almost entirely and refused to make any effort to connect with this human being.

Then I looked around at the deepening night. I saw the trees, and the last rays of day shining across to the tops of the mountains. I saw the twinkling lights pop out as people retired to their houses, relaxing at the end of the day in the cozy solitude of home. I saw the first star appear in the sky (planet, whatevs) and the moon gain strength from the dying sun.

And I felt at home. I felt completely at ease, at peace, one with the universe and the road we were hurtling down. I realized I can never be anyone but me at that hour. If someone wanted an honest conversation with me, wanted to really commune with me, that's the hour. There can be nothing but truth. Nothing but open, honest, connection, at dusk. Man it was brilliant. I can't do it justice but I sure enjoyed it.

This does not mean I made any breakthroughs with my coworker. I pretty much ignored him as I had been doing, content to sit quietly and enjoy the revelry. But I was not hostile towards him, I felt no animosity, simply a desire to sit and reflect on my own thoughts.

Dusk dusk a magical time, the more I write the more I rhyme....

okay that one was no good. I apologize.

RIP Leonard

Well, it's been a long road. Leonard and I first met sometime in June or July last year. We've traveled many roads together. Soon after becoming acquainted, we drove to northern California where I visited Julie and her family, then my brother and grandpa. A long road with just Smalls, Cloud Cult, and the quiet sound of Leonards crappy, treadless tires to keep me company.

Leonard had a mind of his own. He heated or cooled at his own disgression, the automatic benefits somewhat lacking when old age sent them haywire. Whenever he felt like it, he locked me in or out, like in the epic incident when my gas light was on, running on empty, and I hopped out to read a meter. The doors locked of their own accord, locking me out while the engine idled away its tiny reserve of fuel. This resulted in a panicked situation leading me to pay $140 to have someone pick my lock and let me in. There were two more such occurences, though luckily much less expensive.

Then the delightful moment when my backpack, complete with the only key I had for Leonard, soared off Mount Timpanogas and it cost another $300 to make two keys. 

The random moments when the alarm was set unbeknownst to me, and I had to scramble to turn it off in the middle of the night or in parking lots.

But Leonard has warmed me when it was cold outside, his seat warmers heating me long before the heater got around to working. His sun roof allowed the stars to look down upon me as I drove at night. He took me to Sun Valley to visit Smalls, to Idaho to see my family, and to Washington to visit Jackie and Lindsey.

He's driven on golf courses and railraod paths.

 But then remember this? Though he did, in the end, get me to Vegas, it took a lot of coaxing and a lot of money to do it.

 And then. After a fuel pump, after new tires, (6 in the last year), after new brake pads and rotors, tie rods and leaking hoses, the final ride. Coming back from Idaho, Leonard died yet again. But this time, he did not restart.

I'm sorry Leonard, but this was one time too many. This was too far. The boys tried to fix it, ended up lighting him on fire so we took it to a mechanic, mechanic changed the cam sensor then the timing belt snapped as they tried to start it, possibly destroying my engine as well. Basta. I've had enough!

It's been a wild ride. I've spent probably 3 x's what we paid to buy this car trying to fix it up. About a thousand in the last two months, only to lose him now in such an unglorious way. But maybe it's time to move on. Time to get rid of things that are dead  and look to the future.

Farewell, old suckwinkle.

Provophenia VIII

Okay, while I would love to post about my first awesome weekend which happened on Sept. 17-19 and consisted of Cloud Cult, Wendy, Jackie, and Derek, until I have pictures I feel it would be very boring. So let me start with my second awesome weekend that just happend, with the amazingness that is a scooter rally.

Here we all gathered at the Lounge, preparing for the first big ride. I was surprised at the variety of ages and types of scooterists, as well as the largely male crowd.

 Here we are at Squaw Peak, a beautiful overlook after a lovely ride up Provo Canyon. Why have I never done this myself? It was so pretty and so fun to wind up the road on the scooter. We stopped at the top for quite some time and I got to know a lot of really cool people.

 Everywhere we go we park our scooters in a line and take pictures. It just seems to be the thing to do.

Buddy was so proud to have friends. that is another orange buddy next to me, slightly cooler colors and carrying two! The guy behind Laura got hit on his scooter recently and its out of commission for a while. Scary!

These guys are slow racing. Slow racing is basically going as slow as possible to keep from going far. Whoever touches their feet down first or reaches the end first loses.

 We went on a midnight (more like midnight thirty) ride out to Utah Lake later that night. I had to do it-once in a lifetime right? at one point I even envisioned myself jumping in the lake, as I do in all bodies of water, especially when its cold or absurd to get in. But by this point, I was so incredibly tired and freezing cold I decided that plan was silly. This guy...Blake? Jake...had the right idea with the face mask. .

We got shakes at Sammy's after that; fun, but the excitement was wearing away into utter exhaustion for me, and I was literally shaking from cold at this point. Still good times.

What I really felt was that I belonged. That I had found friends, people that shared something with me, in Provo. Not just the scooting, although obviously that is what brought us together. But these people were real, they were sort of rough, they were funny, and they made me feel so happy and a part of something. It was awesome.

Next day we met on top of the parking garage for the gymkhana. obstacle course thing.

 This little boy was too adorable. See the big jump? He didn't go off it. But wouldn't that have been amazing? Only one guy did go off it, the rest of us took the little jump.

This wasn't exactly the action shot I would have hoped for, but you can see that I really went off, right? I was super timid doing everything at first, but got a little more gutsy towards the end.

 The course involved a couple small balance things, going full circle around all four pillars, going under the limbo stick and trying to get a cherry, then turning around to go over another balance thing and then the jump.

 Michelle and her cool scooter. If you can see her shoe color, I think it is awesome with her scooter color. She's the one that gave me the courage to do the course.

 The Hurtado family, raffling off the scooter and other prizes, including the trophy Dave both made and won, after winning the gymkhana.

Some of my favorite people, Sean and Nick, in an amazing feat of balance and skill.



 Oh yeah, here I am doing the pillar. Don't let my look of terror fool you; I was amazing...or not. It was harder than it looked!

 All of us at the gas station before heading up the canyon. Well no, about a third of us.

We also went around the Alpine loop-this is us coming down. That guy behind me is crazy. He would lay on his scoot with his legs flailing out behind him. Not on the loop though; that's just crazy. By the by, who knew this drive was so pretty?! Absolutely amazing.

Seriously, every time I looked around and saw myself surrounded by twenty other scooters, I just had to laugh out loud. It's so ridiculous, but so cool too. Thoroughly enjoyed it.

Hodge Podge

These are some random pictures I found and for some odd reason wanted to post. Tonight feels rather ecclectic, and I take no responsiblity for what results.

I saw this while reading meters on south state street. It was really pretty.

Chris and I saw the most amazing view of the sunset while driving through cache valley once upon a time. I took several pictures from the car and this was one of the best.

These are Outback people. It made me happy. We were pulled over while they fixed a flat on the truck, and just sort of had a jamboree in the middle of the road.

This is my old roommates' dog in my purse. It's such a little dog.

Tonight the sunset was amazing because it was wind smeared. Subtle colors, almost blown out by the crazy blowing surges but still there in white-ish varities of yellow and pink and blue. Delightful.