Cycles amd Stories... 2016's nut of a shell

As if to illustrate my final frustrations with this year, my eloquent wrap up that I wrote on my long drive was not saved, and I haven't found the motivation to rewrite it.
I've changed tones a bit, however, as I've spent the last few days in a much different place than I started this year.

In 2015, I became fascinated with two concepts that carry our culture: the stories we build and the cycles of life that we drift between. I was crowned weave this year into the them of stories and cycles-- appreciating the evolution of my own story, cultivating my instinct to share stories all under an acknowledgement and appreciation for the cycles happening around us: seasonal cycles and revolutions around the Earth as much as the Nitrogen, Carbon, Rock and water cycles we often neglect. At my first recollection, I considered I had failed this theme, because I hadn't regarded it too often throughout my year. This year, my story took a sharp turn, however. I appreciated the familiarity of the cycles around me as my story changed with each season. 

I started this year in love with a man I had wished for half my life, on a rooftop in Manitou, Colorado. A few weeks later, between 500-mile drives, we talked about marriage, and how to co-exist together. A few months later his addiction to alcohol resulted in his death, and a chapter of my life closed forever. The end of this year finds me doing squats in line outside of an REI in 33 degree rain in Albuquerque. I'm in love again. I'm spending the holiday with my boyfriends' kids at my space in a 27 acre park in my favorite city in New Mexico. I have a job I love but work hard at, I have a space to call home, my car just turned a year old and I've got it 65% paid off, I have my health, though I'm about 12 lbs lighter than last year (for better or worse), I own a gun, and I have a huge path of possibility before me.

Below I will recount the achievements and losses I have grown through this year. But undeniably the greatest thing I've learned, felt, exuded... is the power of love. Especially unconditional love.

There will be times when love is all you have. Life will frustrate you, cripple you, anger you, and pain you. People will do this too. I have been faulted and appreciated for finding the beauty in the worst of things-- even people. But everything has beauty. And everyone needs love. And if you love so hard you hold on... then you'll be rewarded. Whether it's with a huge or a smile or a lifetime of opportunities, it's worth it to love. Sometimes it hurts, and often it's confusing, but love is something no one can take away or control, but you. 

Rather than simply review, here's my 2016 in stats.

-Miles Driven: 23,000k my car ~5,000 miles in 15 passenger vans and probably another 5,000 in other cars. This equates to over 300 hours sitting in my car, plus at least as much driving around for work. And I HATE sitting. 

-Mountain Summits: West Spanish Peak, Colorado 

-Two friends lost to alcoholic hepatitis

-New states added to my list!: MI, MN, ID, NE
(4 trips from New Mexico to Michigan/Minnesota)

-Countries added to list: England

-Number of nights traveling/camping vs in my own bed 145/221

-Friends that visited me: Brother, Elliot, Sarah 

-Number of books read: Just ONE! What a year...

-Work accomplishments: Group leading an adult trek, pulling off a wedding, reunion and two rendezvous in one summer

-Another wedding planned and missed- hah. :-/ 

And so, the calendar cycle ends with me completely unsure of what the future will hold. With everything that has happened this year to me and to the world, I've stopped having high hopes for the future. I'm holding on to what I have every day knowing that it can, and probably will change. But I'm also going to keep working on myself. Despite not knowing what 2017 holds, I'm pretty excited for the journey. 

Death Touch

Driving down the highway through Nebraska, I got put on speaker with my boss's 13-year-old son.
"How long do I have to wait before I dig up my dead pigeon" he asked. I'm the noted expert in my community, so I responded to check it out in the Spring if he was looking for the skeleton. (Time has a unique pace in the desert. It's amazing how quickly the clouds can pass overhead, and how long a summers day can feel. Yet a season can blink by without a rain.)

For years I've been growing my knowledge and building my reputation on all things in Nature...but the most common questions seem to entail that which has passed from this world. Kids bring me skulls, half rotting snakes, or we stop to look at the leftover rabbit's feet from a coyote's meal. I have become the expert in identifying skulls, desiccating lizards, plucking feathers off dead birds and the like. None of this is done out of menace or aggressiveness...but honor, gratitude and scientific curiosity. My museum exhibit collection includes several skulls and skeleton fragments, patches of fur, and a number of embalmed lizards, snakes and spiders that are as old as my parents. 

 A few years ago, when I worked in a different desert-- in California, some co-workers nicknamed me "Death-Touch" after a neglected mouse that was to be snake food died in my hands. I had many encounters with dead things before then, but not any experiences with the transition between life and death. The final breath, the energy transposed from one being, through the others in the room, and out into the expansive Earth. When my great grandmother passed away when I was 17, I opted not to be there for her final moments, and to instead remember her in all the happier previous moments we had shared, and through stories I had heard.
When my pet dog died, I heard about it days later in another state. Our pet cat crawled away, like many felines, to have her final moments in solitude.
I had reflected and processed all these events. I have spent hours reflecting upon and coming to terms with my own mortality. And perhaps not surprisingly, the person I spoke about mortality the most with was my recently deceased partner, Sid.

This summer, someone brought me to a baby rat, shivering on a stone behind our mess hall. Amazingly, it was still alive, but struggling. I did what any Naturalist might do... I picked it up, (double checked it wasn't a hanta-carrying deer mouse) and encouraged the kids nearby to touch it, pet it and hold it.

(As an aside, I've worked at a lot of programs in which nature is viewed and not interacted with. In my experience with connecting students to nature hands-on, I have seen much deeper connections arise.)
Before I knew it I was feeding it milk from a syringe and watching his tiny incisors pull the juice off a melon, his little face scrunching and slurping as his hands tightened and relaxed by his face. I was informed by a co-worker that she had already named it, and quickly found myself working to make it a home, keep it warm and feed it.
I was surprised he lived through the first night, but then I became hopeful, too. I've never liked the idea of caging an animal, even for the purpose of education, but this one seemed to find me, and so I began to imagine all his possibilities.
Two days later, as Harriet was warming in my bosom at breakfast, I noticed he wasn't moving, and casually excused myself to assess, and then bury him in the bushes before announcements.
The rest of the morning, I was wrecked. I played it off so nobody could tell, but that nickname Death Touch came to mind, along with the unforgettable passing of my long-time friend and short-time lover just two months before. One of my dear students, who was attending our Paleontology program from Belgium for the fourth year, said, "Cass, I think you have the same problem as me. You are better with dead things than with the living." His sentiment was felt, though I felt like crumbling in that moment. It was easy to get caught up in the loss...of Harriet, of Sid, of all the little beings that didn't arise to see the sun rise on the Earth that morning. In fact, the hardest moments were not when I was sad and longing for a companion, or in need of a hug...nor when I replayed their unknowing final breaths through my head... but those perfect moments under the sun with the leaves shaking, when everything else melted away and I was completely present, only to realize that Sid would never experience that moment, and it was mine to share with myself. 

Today, Halloween, all Hallow's Eve.... with the new moon yesterday and Dia de los Muertos tomorrow, the veil between this world and the next is said to be thin. I happened to be in Sid's old neighborhood. I walked on his old route through town and looked up at his apartment window. Mostly, I saw kids in silly costumes being fed sugar and tourists standing apart from the locals who knew Sid, but were probably not thinking of him on this day, in this moment.
I was reminded today of the life I am living and have lived. Of the precious breaths I am afforded, and the beautiful people who helped shape me to who I am, whether they're still on this Earth or not. I don't believe it is unproductive to reflect upon the dead. But I strive not to dwell on it. Instead, I hope to honor the Death that has Touched me by living fully and completely...and not taking things for granted, and using my energy to enact change and educate people. I'm also looking forward to creating an altar and sharing stories to honor those who have passed. 

When my boss's son digs up his pigeon, my hope is that we can acknowledge that it's life has passed, give it thanks, and use its skeleton to further his knowledge and curiosity of the world around him. I am thankful for Harriet,  and the bobcat that unknowingly donated her skeleton and tail to my museum last year. And to Sid... for all he was and gave to this world. And for what he showed me about myself, as well as who he has since woven into my life.

Black Screens matter, too.

As a lifetime Environmentalist, I have learned that people either care about the Environment, or the don't. The ones that care either believe in the larger impact of their small changes, or they think that making small changes like showering less is useless compared to the hundreds of companies that are wasting billions of gallons of water, for example. 
This message is for Enviro-lovers who think that their changes matter, as I do. 

What search engine do you use? I bet 80-90% of you use Google*. What does your g-mail interface look like? What color is the background of your most-often used webpage? 

Me in my natural habitat- on the trail. 

Did you know, that almost 10 years ago, blogger Mark Ontkush noted that if the Google Search engine was black, rather than white, 750 Megawatt-hours would be saved a year. Why? Cause even the tiny bits of energy used to brighten a screen add up! And when millions of people are spending hours on screens (a different issue...) all that energy adds up. 
Someone who read that post at Heap Media decided to make a web-page: Blackle, that uses a Google Search engine over an all-black background. They have estimated almost 6 million watt-hours have been saved from people using the Blackle search engine. The next step I made was to use a dark-color for my Gmail theme. 

So, does the .5Watt hours that I've saved in my years of using Blackle and dark g-mail counter act the __ energy used to make __? Probably not. But every time I load my search engine, I'm reminded 
1) I spend too much time on the internet. I'm an outdoor educator. Get the heck outside...
2) Contrary to popular belief, the internet, and electricity are not magic. It comes from somewhere. Often from coal removed from mountains through detrimental Mountain-Top removal, or from pollutant-heavy Fracking. My hope from this blog is not that everyone will through their computer out and commit to a life of hugging trees, but rather that you're AWARE of the world we're apart of, and the consequences of your impact to our Earth. 

Another thought: Holding on to all those old e-mails means storing your data, which takes energy. It could be debated that going through each e-mail to make sure you should delete it would use up more energy than it being stored...but think of all the 'junk e-mails' going out now...How many of those are being stored, with all their photos and coupon codes and fancy designs, in people's e-mails, and how many servers are being stored by Google just for junk mail. Yes- this is my brain on Environmentalism. 

Final facts: 
The internet uses 3% of the US's electricity production. 

Me again- contemplating the energy use of the internet, clearly. 

*This is based entirely on assumption and is purposely un-researched. 

Natural Beauty

Last week I got shamed for all the leaf litter on the walk way up to our Education Building. "It shouldn't look like that when you have guests in the building" the woman touted. A man remarked to me about the same concrete slab over a year ago as I was sweeping it, "A good shopkeeper always keeps it clean" or something to that effect. I was proud in that moment that he acknowledged my efforts-- a use of my energy I thought was for my own aesthetic...but I had almost the opposite reaction to the woman's comments.

I am not a shopkeeper. I don't want to sell anything to anyone. I don't want anyone's money. I live frugally in a space that's as close to nature as I can get to still allow me to share my views on nature with the world. And nature has leaves. There's a fine line between showing someone you worked hard, and showing someone you're shallow... in my opinion. I can clearly value the opinion that I take pride in my space, and I want to make it accessible and inviting...however... I think our aesthetic standards for each other and this world are unrealistic, unnecessary,and uneconomic.

A few years ago I worked at a Nature Center in Rye, New York. I would enjoy the lovely bike ride over the hills and through the trees to get to work, even through the expensive department stores and Cafes the lined the small main street. I didn't mind the incredible incline of the driveway on my last leg...but I HATED climbing that hill when the local who would volunteer to blow the leaves off the driveway was there. He volunteered his time... to use a gasoline powered leaf blower. To blow leaves...off the driveway...at a nature center. I'm still dumbfounded. The same thing happens at the park I'm at now. WHY do we feel that something has to look manicured, manipulated and touched by (wo)man to be Beautiful?
*I* think it's beautiful when weeds grow in the dirt patches between the irrigated plants. I think it's incredible when a little seed can hold on through the rains and the windstorms and thrive in the environment it has adapted to. (If you think so, too...you should tell my County that they should stop spraying bee-killing herbicides...)

[I actually had to pause this blog for a couple of hours so I could admire the passing colors and shapes of the clouds from a thunderstorm at sunset. (Photos below). I wish we could all pull away from our mirrors and enjoy the simple beauty around us... supposedly some people need additional inspiration for this (like...drugz) ...but that's a topic for another day.]



So, quiz time: How much do your society-inflicted aesthetic-opinions affect your daily decision?
Example.
WHY does a businessman have to wear a suit to be respected?
QUIZ: Who do you trust more:

OR

?

Okay...that may be unfair. (The second photo is the CEO of patagonia. Not wearing a pantsuit or anything. Just chillin', dressed like she's got stuff to do...aside from a photo shoot). 

What about...which of these parks would you rather visit to immerse in nature?

(The first one is in NYC...believe it or not)

I'm sure there are dozens of more examples...of how our focus on the superficial has caused us to overlook the important, or spend tons of money and time on things that we deem important, merely to satisfy other superficial desires. 

Which is why... I plan to start a website ClosetsforCollege.com... asking wealthy people to cash in their expensive garmets to raise money for kids to go to College. (Anyone want to help me get this running?) Imagine if some celebrity sells their Oscar's dress for even a couple thousand bucks. What an incredible gift a semester of college can be to an inspiring academic such as myself. I will maintain that I don't actually remember much from my college classes, but I thrived in the closed community that a college campus provided me...and I know many young adults who would THRIVE given that opportunity. Or at least an opportunity to go to college without holding down a full time job.

Now your homework: THINK about the next time you made a judgement or a comment or have a thought about something's appearance... whether it's someone's outfit, or their car, or the arrangement of the grocery store. There are times when an appearance can tell you something-- like how great a driver the guy with two dented bumpers and a broken tail-light is... but there are other times where our optical opinions inhibit our ability to appreciate the beauty, functionality and downright Good around us.

View from my blog-spot. Check out those Mammatus!

I did it!

I know I have strayed from environmental topics for the last 6 months to a year...and I assure you, the urgency of environmental awareness has not escaped me... but I've just been so dang overwhelmed with life lately. 
TODAY is the last day of September. Which means that TOMORROW, I can breathe. 

September-- and endless array of To-Dos, Camping trips, meetings... 

October- Whole chunks of days with NO expectations. AHH (The orange bars are people coming to visit!)

 This last month concluded one of the hardest periods of my life. I have failed, I have cried, I have succeeded, I have had grace, I have climbed mountains, picked a toilet paper roll from a toilet of pee, eaten 4 bowls of fro-yo complete with ample toppings, and many, many things in between. And now I'm Done. 
But I don't know quite where to go from here (as could be indicated by the fact that I'm writing this blog at 9:53 on a Friday after a LONG week/month/season). 
We live in a society of To-Do's with very little acknowledgement for what's Done. 
So I'm going to start by patting myself on the back. 
By Showing the world my accomplishments, even if you don't have a clue what they mean. 

Cause Look!

Every single square of color is a school/group that I organized, managed, planned, communicated with and executed in some way. And every column is a staff person that I managed/led/guided/walked beside on their journey to participate in this trip. 
Any NOBODY died. Instead, people had fun...! Some lives were changed, even. 
So NOW...that I did that. Before I do it again... How do I pat myself on the back, for real? Beyond writing this blog, or getting filthy drunk (cause I don't really do that). Any suggestions?

A Long awaited end...

New Mexico...

I'm typing this with my thumbs from a coffee shop in Taos. Twelve children that I'm responsible for are meandering through the Paseo arts festival and I'm simultaneously horrified that something will go wrong and intrigued by the tan moth on the other side of this window.

Water coloring on Women's Wilderness Trek

I couldn't begin to articulate all the emotions I've endured in the last 6 months. I am so grateful for the opportunities I've been afforded this year, and perplexed at how variable my life has become. And yet, while I couldn't have predicted who would move into my house or out of my life, or what coffee shop I would be drinking at on the first Saturday of fall... I have at least had the stability of a profession I'm passionate about.
As I sit here chatting logistics with three high schoolers on my last "trek" of the season, I can't help but reflect on all the journeys I've been on this month. I've climbed mountains and trees, trapped rattlesnakes and cleaned wounds. I have been dirty, stinky, cold, wet and happy-- often at the same time. I've watched sunrises and sunsets and slept under the stars... all while offering the same opportunity to young people from 5-17 years old. Each group of students has made it more evident to me how crucial it is for young people to Experience. To try new things, to be uncomfortable, and to say Yes (and Thank You) are essential to growth... and I've walked with kids that choose To and those that choose not to... or lack the inspiration to ask "What else is there?"

My dirty trekkin' pants

At the same time, I've been reflecting on all the opportunities I was offered growing up. It was up until at least 10 years ago that I was a young, hopeful girl afraid of being uncomfortable. Now that I've overcome that fear I get paid to climb mountains. I can get a 1 ton truck out of the mud. I can guide 30 people through a slot canyon. I can pretty reliably predict the weather. I have grown immensely in this job, even in this last month of exhaustion...

Nevertheless, I've been counting down the days until I can sleep in my own bed for a full week, even a month. I'm so tired from all these experiences...yet I'm already looking forward to next Spring season. And some goooood solid sleeps in between.

Office Views

You and I both know, that the house is haunted.

It is with great anticipation and perhaps too much delay that I have finally moved back into my humble adobe abode.

It's strange to step back into the world of my stuff, that someone else has been living in for the last 10 weeks. It's equally strange to finally wipe the gin stains off the floor, and clean the corners of a world that I had wanted to preserve when I left three months ago. Now that I can more easily accept his absence from the world, I'm left in this house without a home. Here I stand in a structure that has sheltered many different loves, lots of different laughter, and supported me through the rise and falls of my last relationships...and yet here, the most homely place I've had for the last 10 years, is feeling unfamiliar, and inadequate to the sweet simplicity of my tent filled with a book, Sid's pillow and my sleeping bag.

This song has been playing incessintly in my head for the last 4 months:

I've only lived here two and a half years, and there are echoes of previous partners, fiances, lovers, best friends, new acquaintances... Shelves are full of someone else's books, closets with stacks of Sid's clothes and computers, waiting for a quiet cold day... a crooked poster from last summer's subletter that has mocked me for months, and yet all of these things are shadows of the life and love that have been breathed into this small space.

So I'm settling back in, but with a strange unfamiliarity that I've never felt in this space. When I moved in, I made it my happy home. I've shared it and cleaned more than my share of it. Most of my stuff is where I left it, including labels to ensure that even visitors adhere to my organization needs. I spent much of the summer in a little cabin, moving in and out of my backpack depending on the day's adventure, and I was sort of inspired by it. I carried my day-pack with me everywhere, and it always had my basic essentials- 7 journals, colored pens, food, water, sunscreen, camera, chapstick, freeze-dried strawberries in a glass jar, first aid, a jump drive, a compass, my wallet, a letter so belated my last words are irrelevant, and a rain coat (that's a lie, I never carry one, but we always make the kids, so I pretend it's in there...This is why I live in NM).

A friend of mine a few years ago, sold everything she had down to 100 items. I'm not sure if she counted a pen bag as one thing or multiple, but as I've begun my list of 100 items I'd drag around with me, I've counted each of my favorite pens separately. I've also been appropriately teased for the fact that pens are the first item on my list after Wide Mouth Mason jar.

It's been strange settling into this world of stuff, so much bigger than my backpack, but a little too big for one person. The environmentalist in me aches to ease my impact by sharing the space... but now that my new roommate (and her partner and dog) has moved in, I'm seeking the solitude of my own space, albeit filled with the material memories of the others.