Lessons From the Canyon

We just returned from our annual Thanksgiving camping trip.The car is unpacked, the boots are off, and the washing machine is steadily rinsing away any traces of campfire smoke. The trip may be over, but there are lessons and memories still to savor.

Apparently the picnic table is more comfortable than the cold, hard ground!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We looked for a gator but never found one even though the tracks were everywhere!

I was booking the reservations this year just as we faced our first real cold snap, thus I chose to find a campground near the Georgia-Alabama border not too far from Florida instead of our usual Smokey Mountain haunts. This was the first time I’ve ever been camping where the signs cautioned us to be aware of alligators rather than bears!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We stayed at Florence Marina State Park but our primary destination was Providence Canyon, a state park that is affectionately know as “The Little Grand Canyon.”

Providence Canyon

I had an interview with Sean Moffett on Wednesday afternoon, so we didn’t get into the campground until right before dusk.We had about 30 minutes to set up camp and get a fire going for dinner, all while my stomach was making it very clear that I missed lunch. Luckily, we’ve been camping together several times before so we pretty much have camp set-up down to a science.

Lesson 1: The more you do something, the easier it becomes.

The lake/river/reservoir (I swear, every sign called it something different!) at Florence Marina State Park

After dinner, we spent some time sitting in front of the fire. I could tell I was wound up. I was impatient and kind of snappy. I wrote recently about being overwhelmed, and I was letting that get to me again. It’s been a busy fall with trips and events (for example, we just flew back in from Baltimore late Monday night and I had to be ready for camping by Wednesday morning). On top of those logistical challenges, I’m also having to adjust to some of the (very cool and completely surreal) opportunities that have been coming my way since I published the book. As a result of all of this, I’ve had a more difficult time than usual managing anxiety the last couple months.

Lesson 2: Just removing yourself from the situation does not remove yourself from the mindset.

So, there I was, fed and warm sitting next to a campfire with my boys and I was still stressed and irritable. Brock and I talked through things and he came up with three action points to help going forward when I am in similar situations: 1) Learn to say “no,” 2) Learn to delegate, and 3) use a key word to let him know when I’m close to meltdown. I thought this last idea was genius as I’ve tried to communicate to him when I’m feeling close to the breaking point, but he often doesn’t comprehend the magnitude at the time.

Who needs turkey?

Eventually, we made our way to the tent and promptly fell asleep. At some point during the night, I awoke to the sound of footsteps on the fallen leaves just outside the tent. As I woke Brock, I recognized a familiar snuffling sound right by my head. I looked down to Tiger’s bed in the corner of the tent and realized it was empty. Our dog had pushed open the zippered door with his nose, exited the tent, and could not figure out how to return.

Lesson 3: You can prepare but you cannot control.

Brock and I have worked with Tiger extensively to the point where he is frequently off leash. This training meant that when he did get out, he stayed close and came right back.

That’s my vest on the left and Tiger’s on the right. Can you tell who has a bigger torso? 🙂

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After breakfast the following morning, we headed just a few miles down the road to Providence Canyon. The canyon is not a natural formation, rather it was formed due to poor farming practices in the early to mid 19th century.

Lesson 4: Big things can have small beginnings.

The land originally consisted of gently rolling wooded hills. The early cotton farmers cleared the land of all existing vegetation and dug shallow furrows into the soil every planting season. Erosion took care of the rest. Now, almost 200 years later, the canyons are 150 feet deep and and growing wider by 3-5 feet each year.

I wonder what the farmers would make of this?!?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s wild to realize that the road leading to the park as well as the park buildings will be swallowed up by the canyon within my lifetime.

Lesson 5: Always be ready to adjust.

The continually retreating fence line.

We made our way down into the canyon floor. Up close, it was apparent that the canyon walls are more sand dune than stone.

Lesson 6: Impressive exteriors can conceal weak interiors.

There are signs everywhere warning hikers not to climb the canyon walls. I only slightly broke the rules:)

I even made it back down the hill!

Once the scale of the erosion became clear, people tried to slow the effects.

Kudzu was planted in the mid 20th century to try to anchor the soil.

Lesson 7: There is a tipping point where momentum becomes inevitability.

A more recent attempt to slow the collapse of the canyon walls. You can see that erosion is winning the battle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Although the walls of the canyons are washing away, the depth remains fairly constant because it consists of a denser and harder stone than the chalk-like walls.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lesson 8: Sometimes the surface needs to be washed away to reveal what is underneath.

Providence Canyon is in many ways a man-made geological catastrophe. However, rather than simply hide it away, the state has chosen to turn it into a park that celebrates its beauty and also educates the public about its root causes.

Lesson 9: Don’t be afraid to celebrate the beauty that comes from devastation while learning how to avoid it in the future.

It’s impossible to deny the beauty.

We came across an old homestead identified by the following sign.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lesson 10: We are more adaptable than we realize.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
We saw many interesting landmarks along the trail.

It’s difficult to see in the lighting, but these are two trees that have grown together at points.

 

Lesson 11: We can grow together yet still be distinct and independent.

Unfortunately, we had to cut our trip short and forgo our planned second day of hiking since Tiger injured his foot.

Morning playtime with the boys

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lesson 12: It’s okay to play even if you’re hurt.

 

Providence has its appointed hour for everything. We cannot command results, we can only strive.
Mahatma Gandhi

I am going to strive for continued peace and serenity through the weekend:)

Tiger is just going to sleep!

Can you say ‘spoiled dog’? 🙂

 

 

 

Life Lessons From a Mechanical Bull

English: Gator Conley on mechanical bull, inve...
Not the bull I saw, but I loved this picture! Photographed in 2007 at G’s Ice House. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

No, I didn’t ride the bull. What are you, crazy? I have a marathon this weekend and I would be way too embarrassed to tell people that I couldn’t run because I fell off a taurian hunk of metal in a identity-confused bar in an aging tourist town with its own character issues. No, thank you.

This is me sitting on a non-bullish seat. Notice the lack of movement.

But, let me back up a bit. I went with a group of friends to Helen, GA this past weekend for Oktoberfest and to celebrate some birthdays. Helen is 1/3 kitschy Bavarian-themed village, 1/3 mountain country town, 1/3 biker bar, and 100% touristy. It has some of the best people watching outside of California, especially during October with its combination of Oktoberfest and Halloween.

This guy sits motionless until someone drops in a tip. Then, he strums his ukulale. Nothing ever moves but his fingers. Creepy.

Back to the bull.  I used to see those things (real and mechanized)  all the time when I lived in San Antonio. I think they were a requirement in any venue over a certain size. I haven’t seen one in quite a while and I was surprised to find two mechanical bulls newly installed in a bar that catered to heavy-metal bikers just last year. I guess the cowboy-hat wearing set pay better. I watched patrons try their hand at riding the bulls. Most were thrown off in seconds. Then, partly to encourage participation and partly for the joy of it, the guy running the ride got on. Watching him was a completely different experience. This guy could ride. Now, I’m sure some of the talent came from the wearing of the cowboy hat, but I learned some other lessons from him as well.

Also in Helen. I bet this bird felt like he was riding a mechanical bull!

Look Forward

The launched riders had a tendency to leave their gaze where they had been rather than look ahead. The talented guy kept his eyes looking straight ahead, even though straight ahead kept changing.

Don’t Fight the Motion

The more rigid a rider, the sooner the bull would send them flying. In order to stay on, the riders had to move with the bull rather than fight against its bucking.

Balance

This word is stalking me.:) The unschooled folks grabbed onto the rope tightly with both hands. This left their body free to swing wildly too far to each side. Our guy? He left one hand free to act as a ballast that balanced his body’s movements. Pretty smart.

Have Fun

After all, isn’t that what it’s all about!

 

Now, I really have no desire to ever ride a mechanical bull (I know, I know. Shameful for a Texan.) but I happen to think these four lessons apply themselves rather well to life in general. Oh, and I would add one more for me personally: Bagpipes make better party music than polka. Just sayin.

The view from the cabin – a peaceful contrast to town.

Thinking of all of you in Sandy’s path. Hoping you stay as warm and dry as possible and that this storm doesn’t take you for a wild bull ride.

Right This Moment

Since last April, my daily breakfast has consisted of a green smoothie: 1/2 a banana, frozen mixed berries, protein powder, cinnamon, vanilla, kale, spinach, almond butter, and almond milk. Prior to last spring, I consumed my pumpkin oatmeal every day for almost 5 years: oatmeal, pumpkin, blueberries, flax seed, protein powder, almond milk, and walnuts. I’ve loved the switch to the smoothie. It still fills me up until lunch and it helps me increase my consumption of leafy greens without the time commitment needed for endless salads. I’ve loved the smoothies. Until today.

Georgia welcomed its first real cold front of the season last night. I awoke to a cold house, the wind blowing through the cracks in the windows and reaching up through the floors to wrap itself around my ankles. I poured myself out of bed, wrapped my body in layers of rediscovered winter clothes, and went to make the coffee. While I was enjoying my coffee, I realized I was dreading my breakfast. Dread or not, I made my smoothie and drank it down, which led to a subsequent drop in my core temperature with accompanying shivers. I usually meditate after breakfast, but this morning that was replaced with a mad dash to a hot shower.

Those smoothies, in all their green-powered awesomeness, are perfect in the warmer months. But, perhaps, I need to recognize that just because something was right for me yesterday, does not necessarily mean that it is right for me today. I suppose I will need to revert to my pumpkin concoction for the next few months or invent a new breakfast. Spinach oatmeal, anyone?

7 Life Lessons From the Trees

English: A scenic photo taken near Madison, Wi...
English: A scenic photo taken near Madison, Wisconsin of a red pine (Pinus resinosa). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I learned how to garden before I ever learned how to cultivate my own life. My introduction to gardening came with the planting of a single bald cypress sapling, its spindly form centered in an enormous mound of amended soil encircled by a protective fence.  Over the years, I perfected my techniques until I knew exactly what to do to grow a healthy and beautiful tree. Those years spent with my hands in the soil taught me many lessons that I now apply to the rest of my life.

 

Digging In

With my first tree, I had not yet found the balance between effort and effect. My three-foot sapling sat in a hole that required moving what felt like a metric ton of dense Georgia red clay. That amount of effort was not sustainable for the dozens of other trees that were eventually planted. I learned to dig wide, avoid the roots, and focus on loosening rather than removing the soil. This method still made the trees happy yet did not cause me misery in the process. Outside the garden, life should be a balance between effort and ease. Do not be afraid to work hard but do not work harder than necessary.

 

Amending the Soil

The existing soil in my one-acre plot was inhospitable to sensitive roots; its clay base would not allow air to circulate and would suffocate the life out of young trees if it was left to its own devices. However, if I amended the soil too much, the roots would never learn how to survive in the more difficult terrain once they outgrew their initial hole. I had to find the right balance between hard clay and soft soil to provide a safe environment for the saplings that would still allow them to venture out into the harsher world. Be aware of much you amend your own surroundings in your life. It’s good to be comfortable but be careful that you are not so snug that you cannot grow and expand beyond your current boundaries.

 

English: A picture of compost soil
English: A picture of compost soil (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Support Only When Needed

I have to chuckle when I see young trees corseted up in bindings and stakes like a character in Fifty Shades of Grey. This support certainly prevents the immature roots from pulling out of the soil or the narrow trunk from snapping in the wind, but it also keeps the tree weak. A tree that has never had to face the buffeting wind or driving rains unprotected will not learn how to become strong in the face of adversity. I let my trees fend for themselves in all but the harshest storms, where I would run out into the yard and throw heavy bags around their bases to act as temporary anchors. Support is wonderful when it is needed but it should only be used as much as it is necessary. It’s important to be able to accept help when you need it but also recognize when you can do it on your own. Once your roots are established, it’s time to let your trunk grow strong.

 

Use Natural Fertilizer

With my first tree, I fell sway to the advertising. I surrounded my tree with granules and mixed fertilizers into the water in the hopes of helping my tree grow faster and become healthier. The tree showed no response, but my wallet sure did.  Once I switched to natural compost, the trees and my wallet thrived. I look at most fertilizers like processed foods – you pay a premium for a product when the natural form is often cheaper and better. In fertilizer as with food, there is often an inverse relationship between advertising dollars and the healthfulness of a product. Nourish your body with natural foods and allow them to fertilize your health and vitality. Your vibrant body can then become the advertising.

 

Water Deeply

I made the classic beginner’s mistake – I watered my new plantings frequently, but briefly, scattering drops of water that never fully penetrated the surface of the soil. Although the trees appeared to be sitting in moist soil, the needed water never made it to their parched roots. I learned that the best way to water the roots is to leave the hose dripping near the trunk for hours. Proper watering cannot be rushed. I am sometimes guilty of shallow watering in life as well. I may find myself in a yoga class but my mind is elsewhere. I might be at a romantic dinner while my brain is planning for work. Or, in my biggest struggle, I rush through meditation without allowing the peace to soak in. In your life, fully commit to what you choose to do so that you can gain the full benefits.

 

Let the Light In

Pruning hurts. I was scared to make those first cuts, very aware that they were permanent. I was afraid I would ruin my tree, afraid that it would never be the same. The fear was unfounded. Although the tree looked alien at first, its white scars advertising the new cuts, I soon grew used to its new appearance. The removal of some of the unneeded branches allowed light to permeate the canopy which before had cast darkness on all around it. New plants were able to dance in the sun that now filtered through the tree. I faced the most painful pruning of all in life – the removal of a husband. Like with my trees, it took time to adapt and adjust to the new reality, but now there is light beneath the canopy. Sometimes we have to prune back some branches in our lives to let the sun in.

 

Plant Companions

My first tree was a loner for a season, standing tall in a sea of grass. Over the next few years, I planted companions, shrubs and perennials that kept the sapling company and enhanced its beauty. A wonderful symbiosis began to occur; the tree provided needed shelter from the hot Georgia sun and the companions held in the moisture around the base of the tree. In your life, choose companions that enhance your beauty and find ways to improve their lives as well. An abundant life is always more glorious than a single tree standing alone.

Alaska forest - trees
Alaska forest – trees (Photo credit: blmiers2)

Let’s Go On An Adventure

Kayla and Tiger aka Beauty and the Beast

My friend Sarah and her daughter, Kayla, came over for a visit the other day. Kayla was no damsel in distress on this day; she was happy and giggly and eager to get to know Tiger. They played ball on the stairs tirelessly for over an hour, dog and child finding joy in the simple act of fetch and retrieve. Kayla never questioned the goal of the activity, nor complained as the tennis ball grew ever wetter with slobber. She simply delighted in the moment. It was adorable to watch this slight three-year-old learn to command the ninety-five pound pit bull as she ordered him “down” before she would release the ball, letting it tumble down the stairs. When her mom announced that it was time to go, Kayla initially protested, begging to stay and play with Tiger a bit longer. Soon, however, she brightened, and asked, “Is it time for another adventure?” Sarah responded to her daughter in the affirmative and then turned to me and said, “Actually, we’re going to the grocery store, but for her that is an adventure.”

I can’t claim that I am able to view a trip to Publix as an adventure, but I love the message from little Kayla – approach every experience with curiosity and allow for excitement even in the mundane.

Tiger after his “adventures” with Kayla.

My own adventure came a few days later, when my boyfriend and I went to visit a friend in St. Marys, a small town tucked in the southeastern corner of Georgia. It was a short trip – an entire summer in one long weekend sandwiched between writing a book (which will be released soon!!!) and my return to school. Like Kayla, my boyfriend and I found joy in the smallest details of each day. My friend, whom we stayed with, had the brilliant idea of installing an outdoor shower in an enclosed and decked-in area of his backyard. We must have showered three times a day, enjoying the spray of the water against sweaty skin and delighting in the fresh air and sounds of the birds.

Ready for adventure.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We ventured into Florida for our first beach day, enjoying the sun, sand, and surf which eludes us in our usual land-locked lives. After returning to St. Marys that afternoon (and taking another shower, of course!), we made our way into “downtown” on the city’s premier transportation method: a golf cart. It was a lovely change of pace from Atlanta’s usual gridlock. Somehow, you can’t feel road rage-ish on a golf cart. It’s scientifically impossible.

 

We made our way to an outdoor patio where Three-Fingered Nick (our “blues” name for him) was playing a couple sets with a few other musicians. Nick is so unbelievably inspiring. He was a well-known and extremely talented guitarist. After losing a finger and part of his thumb, he stayed away from playing for a time, but with the encouragement of his wife, eventually returned to the guitar. He sounds amazing. Not just amazing for a man with three fingers, but just plain amazing. I love meeting people who have persevered through difficulty. They show the true beauty of the human spirit.

 

 

The next day, my friend took us to Cumberland Island on his boat. We wove through miles of pristine marshland, the only boat on the water. My friend, a naturalist and passionate protector of the St. Marys river, answered our questions and pointed out wildlife and habitat features. It was stunning.

Cumberland Island – Be thankful that humidity and mosquitoes have not yet learned to travel via the internet.

 

 

 

 

 

He dropped us off on the island. As I had done the official tour last year, I took on the role of tour guide for my boyfriend. Cumberland Island is a beautiful blend of history and nature, with a generous smattering of mosquitoes. We walked for mile or so through the dark and atmospheric woods formed by the low, twisting branches of the live oaks, their limbs decorated with the lacy veils of Spanish moss.  The air was heavy with humidity that seemed to even dull the sounds of the cicadas that surrounded us. We were alone on the paths, making it easy to imagine being on those roads a hundred years prior. Before air conditioned. Shudder.

 

 

 

Our first destination was the ruins of the Carnegie mansion at Dungeness Point. Since I am much more educated about the sciences than Georgia history, I’m afraid I didn’t do this part of the tour justice.

We then walked along a boardwalk to make our way to the beach (all we could think about at this point was sinking into the cold waves). We spotted an alligator off the side of the path. Luckily, my boyfriend did not have to prove to the gator that he’s a black belt:)

 

 

 

The surf felt as amazing as expected. Cumberland is a different coastal experience. A special place. No more than 300 people are allowed on the island at a time, so the sands are relatively bare. There are no shops, no bars. In fact, you must carry in and remove anything you want with you. It’s backpacking on the beach.  It was hot, sandy, and humid. But it was perfect.

 

Just hanging out enjoying the sea breeze

 

The beach is home to a large herd of wild horses. There were several enjoying the beach along with us. This particular stallion stood facing the ocean for hours, seemingly enjoying the feel of the wind on his face. Or maybe he was debating about trying to swim across the Atlantic? Or, waiting for a message in a bottle from his long-lost mare ? Who knows? I just know I felt as peaceful as he looked.

Luckily not our boat

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Most of us do not get to have experiences like these frequently. However, as Kayla showed me, we don’t have to wait until we have the time or money (or the friend who bought a house at the beach!) to have an adventure. We can find thrills in every day. Even at the grocery store.

So, what do you say? Want to go on an adventure?