Archive for May 2009
The Stuff of Goals
Sometimes it feels easier to try to change those around us than change ourselves. I think the route to affecting change in the ones we love is through changing our own thoughts and behaviors. It can upset the balance of an ingrained, often times dysfunctional pattern, when we do finally change our behaviors, and that new imbalance can be disorienting at first. Difficult, even. But long term success is a reward for those who follow through. We become healthier, and over time, our improving health influences those around us in a positive way. Good things are worth waiting for.
- Of value to someone, or trash?
Since I’ve returned from my trek in Nepal, I’m feeling even more motivated than before to follow through on a goal that I’ve been struggling with for quite a while. I want to distribute possessions that I’ve accumulated but no longer use. Aha! This reminds me of another of those messages that I heard once and it stuck with me ever since. I think it was a friend, Soma, that I met through the Twin Cities FreeNet, who told me she was distributing books from her collection to release the ‘energy’ of them back into the world. I love that thought and have considered it ever since. I like to think about the original author, obviously, composing the information with visions of a future audience receiving value from it, but also of the editors who worked on it, and the printer and binders who handled it. Even the people who cut trees or produced the paper. They all put their energy into creating that book. If it gets read once and then stored on the shelf, that energy becomes stagnant; trapped.
For some reason, I find myself thinking about returning the energy of stuff gathering dust in my house and garage, back into the world, an awful lot more than I find myself doing anything about it. I can consider my writing about it here another small step beyond just thinking about it; my first actual action toward doing something. Well, maybe that’s not entirely accurate. Last fall we signed on with a pest control service and were required to pull all the crap out of the garage to clean and assess the related pest issues. I put my hands on a lot of once perfectly useful stuff that now hasn’t been used in many years. It was a pretty good motivator. I cleaned up old stuff. I took pictures of stuff. I talked about listing it on eBay or Craigslist. Most impressively, I successfully placed what was more accurately identified as ‘trash’ into the proper receptacle; the one that gets dumped into a big truck each week.
Surely of value to someone. Now if I could only remember where I put it.
For a week or two after that, I even made good on a goal of finding something each week that was just taking up space here and deserved a ride in the big truck that comes through our neighborhood every Thursday. But that didn’t provide the feel-good result that is the reward of returning the energy force of those who produce products, back into the world. I want to decide if freecycle.org is a group for me and finish what I started toward posting ads on craigslist.org. I want to possess less stuff and I want to release the stagnant energy back into the world. I want to move from thinking and writing about it, to doing it. A worthy and deserving goal. Am I up to it? Sure. I’ve seen one of my sisters successfully disperse the majority of her accumulated possessions. Although, she had the added incentive of having sold their house to spend retirement living in a 5th-wheel trailer. I know it is possible. I’m just not clear yet on what time table I will finally make it happen for me.
Feel Free to Change
One day, a long time ago, my son –I think it was my son– told me I should drive a different route to work that morning, just for the change. I’ve heard similar suggestions, for a variety of purposes over the years, but for some reason, the suggestion that day is one that stuck with me. I don’t know why some basic messages resonate with me for a lifetime like this, or whether the same kind of thing happens for others. My high school football coach said, “If you can touch it, you can catch it.” –referring to either a defensive or offensive pass catching opportunity. I hear it in my mind as clear as the first time he said it. Other memorable messages that come to mind are of a bit more personal nature. Maybe remembering those kinds of messages is easier to understand. But this is really beside the point regarding change.
Try testing yourself with a variety of simple changes. Fold your arms with the opposite arm from your usual, placed on top. How does that feel? Clap your hands with the opposite hand from your normal habit, in the more superior orientation. Clasp your hands with your fingers intertwined as if you are begging or pleading for something, but slide the position one finger away from your regular grip. That is how easy it is to change. Sure it feels weird, uncomfortable even. But how hard was it to do, all things considered?
It is that easy to change many things in our lives. It is somewhat amazing how quickly we are able to adjust to the point of things not feeling so weird with a little repetition, too. And it is impressive how some basic changes of similar scope, can apply to our mental processes, as well. It all starts with recognition. When we pay attention to how we move and position our body, that awareness can lead to choices to do things differently. The same exercise applies to our thought patterns. When we make an effort to become aware of how we think, about situations, ourselves, or other people, then we have done the most important work toward allowing for opportunity to change. But first, we have to recognize our thinking, and that just may be the hardest part. I believe we are all incredible masters of deluding ourselves. And if we are slightly aware of the fact that we are doing this, we tend to become masters of justifying what we are up to.
We don’t have to continue to think about things in the same way we have for years before. I am doing ongoing work to recognize my negative self-talk and my pessimistic slant on potential situation outcomes. It’s powerful stuff. Another thing I have begun to practice a bit more of late is smiling for no apparent reason. I notice when people around me wear a grim look on their face, and that is not how I wish to appear. I have written here before about putting a smile before happiness and then happiness soon follows. I am all for it, and then when I appear less glum, I can look forward to soon feeling more happy. I’ve faced worse challenges.
Choosing to change, and to change for the better, is worthwhile exercise. One that supports my journey to optimal health, mind, body, and soul. It’s a message that deserves to get stuck in our heads, don’t you think?
Hardships
There is something that Jim Klobuchar shared more than once while I was traveling with him, that has stuck with me enough that I have found myself invoking a version of it myself, 
multiple times lately. It is something that deserves consideration pretty much any time of any day. To paraphrase him, it is simply to put whatever the current topic on my mind is, in the perspective of comparing it to the grand scheme of human hardships. It works pretty well. Unfortunately, I think it is easier for a person other than the one fretting over something, to break the focus by suggesting a comparison to more grievous circumstances. So, when I have been remembering this of late, it has tended to be when someone other than myself deserves to hear it. But that can get irritating. Fast. More for them, than me.
Luckily, I think it is sinking in enough that I just might have acquired it in my arsenal to ultimately use for myself; with a little practice. I’ve faced worse challenges.
Happy Monday.
Lucky Guy
I’m feeling really grateful lately for a lot of things. Mostly, people who have enriched my life. I’m a lucky guy. Lucky to know so many special people with whom I have been able to connect and who join me in discovering the subtleties and nuances of ourselves and the world we are in. I was born into a family of siblings, and to our parents, that have certainly made me who I am today, and they have all always been a step beyond ordinary. As time passes, I am learning more about what that has meant for me and how it contributes to the person I have become.
I am lucky to have Cyndie and my two amazing children. Those of you who know me understand how lucky I am to have Cyndie in my life. And I’ve said many times that my children have taught me more about myself than I wanted to know at the time, but that I now am eternally grateful to have learned; and who better to learn from? I have also been blessed by knowing and becoming a part of Cyndie’s family.
I am lucky to have a friend in Gary, a connection that was somehow made before either of us were aware of it, so at the time we met, we were both sure we already knew each other. Lucky to have discovered Pam on the trek. The whole group I traveled with have me feeling like I’ve won a lottery. Then, looking at the big picture, I’ve won that lottery of wonderful groups over and over. My soccer friends, cycling friends, Brainstorms’ virtual friends, lifelong EP friends, coworkers who became friends. What luck! I sometimes feel I don’t deserve to know people like Eapon and Chris and Andy. Rich, Steve, and Curt, Julie, Rhonda and David, Suzanne, Ann. Thank you, Laura, for allowing me to be a friend. Howard and Judy, Grace, RJ, and Ian in Portugal and Walter in New Zealand. David, Paul, Steve, David, Kevin, Todd, and Eric. Hal. Jodi and Jody. Kym. My other Gary. Murph, JC. Some of you I don’t see so much any more, but you’ve made a lasting impression that keeps you in my thoughts. You continue to contribute to who I am and to my feeling of being a lucky guy for knowing you.
Some folks say you make your own luck. If I have, I would be happy to take credit, but my thinking is, “How lucky is that?” As in, I am so lucky, I even lucked out and made some of my own, without even realizing it!
You are all good people. The named and the still to be named. Did I mention Warren? Or Ed! There are two Eds. And John. There are quite a few Johns. Katie. Judy, Linda, Elliott, Mary and David. Elysa and Julian. In this moment, I am thinking of you all.
I am a lucky guy.
This is one of my favorite images from the trek.
Oh so Bittersweet
I’m not sure how to write the conclusion to this Himalayan Trek adventure. Living the end of it was pretty easy, but at the time, I was, for the most part, unable to fully process what it meant to me or what I was really feeling. I do know, it was oh so bittersweet. Now I have the added perspective of time and the many occasions I’ve retold my stories to family and friends, yet I think I have less, rather than more of an understanding of what I think about my experience. I guess I have no conclusions to draw; that is, beyond the simple fact that it was an absolutely fantastic adventure.
The sun, as it appeared through the Kathmandu smog
I was not all that excited to be back in the big city of Kathmandu. We still had a whole day to kill before we all went our separate ways and different flights home. My mind was definitely still back on the trek and Kathmandu had little allure for me. I took a mid-morning nap. That evening our whole group was invited to dinner by Tiger Mountain, the company that we trekked with. The next morning we were driven to the airport and the group split into three sets as not everyone chose the same air travel arrangements. I flew with Jim all the way back to Minneapolis, through Bangkok and Los Angeles. It was mostly uneventful and a little drawn out by prolonged layovers.
It was really nice to be home again. I am very much a home boy. I am not all that interested in travel. The opportunity to take this trip was a special one and I am exceptionally happy to have done it. I have heard from many people who have found themselves driven to visit the region multiple times. I am torn. Part of me is very satisfied with having done this and feels no need to return, but another part of me completely understands the inclination to return and would be very weak about resisting a future opportunity to go back.
Jim and I upon our safe return to Minneapolis
I’m still feeling a bit of grief, daily, over the absence of my trek companions. I miss the people of the Khumbu Valley and our Sherpa guides and, of course, the Himalayan Mountains. I don’t miss the stress it caused my lungs. I think it would be fair to report that my cough has finally cleared up, three weeks after arriving home. It just occurred to me that I still haven’t finished writing captions for the remainder of my photos in my Picasa Web Album. That will give me something to do now that I’ve finished writing about the trip.
So, that’s it; my trek in the Himalayas. Thank you for following along on this tour through my trip journal. I hope you were able to feel a little bit like you were traveling with me. Now my attention turns to my next adventure: the 35th annual Jaunt with Jim bike ride in the middle of June. A week of biking and tent camping, this year in the land of voyageurs, to the international border and the Gunflint Lodge. I expect I’ll be writing about it…
Shockingly Fast
The only way I have been able to identify what day it is, is by looking at what I wrote the day before. It must now be Saturday, 18 April. The morning appears clear and sunny at 6 a.m., but what we need is for that to be the case in 3 hours. But it’s a good start. Our wake-up call is scheduled for 7 a.m. and Gary is sleeping all of it, while I am up, dressed, packed, and ready to go. I think I am really wanting this to happen.
Last night I was coughing so hard that I gave myself an intense headache. This morning it is a little less persistent. I wonder if it can possibly be gone before I get home. I dread coughing the whole way on the long flight. My lungs still have a bit of rattle when I exhale.
At 6:45, tea is offered at our door! The sound of an airplane suddenly fills the air. It dominates and makes the area seem really small, as if it is right outside our room. We head down to breakfast where Lhakpa (#1) honors each one of us with a ceremonial end-of-trek scarf. Then we are ushered out and walked around the runway to the departures building. Jim has agreed to be a guide for a child (of a friend of our cook, Gyalzen) who is on our flight, which adds a little excitement/confusion to the process. No line for men through security, but a long line for the women. The security check was entirely superficial. 
Then, two twin turboprop flights later, we are allowed outside and our Agni Air plane is waiting. They throw in the bags, we hop in, the door is shut and we are off! It is a rush like an amusement park ride to move off the flat at the top and drop down that runway. Passengers toward the back put their hands up in the air in fun, but are really hoping and hoping that it will be airborne before we reach the cliff that drops off at the end of that runway.
The flight was in the air 15 minutes earlier than we were told it would be and only lasted about 30 minutes. It is mind boggling and in shockingly fast fashion we are torn from where we were just having breakfast to now be in Kathmandu again. My mind can hardly keep up. It feels strange to have left the remoteness of the Khumbu Valley, yet still be in the relative limbo of a place where it is suggested we don’t drink the tap water and streets are often nothing more that rutted dirt trails. Five hours after I was greeted for morning tea at the door of our room in the lodge, I am showered and lounging on a bed in the Yak & Yeti Hotel.
I find myself compelled to immediately find the iPod I had stashed in the bag I left at the hotel while we trekked, and cue up the tunes that were most prominently stuck in my head the previous two weeks. One way to clear ’em is to hear ’em.
In the afternoon, Gary and I do some cruising and shopping with Bonnie and Pam. We stop for dinner and end up walking back in darkness. 
I seem to have developed the most confidence in taking the risks of crossing traffic. It is a system that seems to work best when you just do it. Make your decision and go. Don’t hesitate or stutter-step, as that creates indecision in the drivers and leads to trouble. But you do need to be willing to endure incredibly close proximity of moving vehicles.
By about 8 p.m. we are crashed in our rooms. I find some Premier League Soccer on ESPN. It doesn’t keep me awake long.
Return to Lukla
In this retelling of the days of the trek, I am now up to Friday, 17 April, but the journal entry for this day starts back at the night before. Just about the time we turned off the flashlights in the tent, it started to rain. It then got harder and harder and harder until it sounded like quite a downpour. Except for a moment of mild initial concern, when I turn my light back on to check for any obvious leaks, it was a great sound to fall asleep to. By morning, the sky was clear blue, and we survived the night pretty much leak-free. We are back to the old routine and are offered tea and washing water at our tent.
Breakfast on this morning deserves honorable mention for its non-breakfast-like offerings: after the oatmeal porridge came a pancake with tuna and onions, and cooked carrots on the plate. What little appetite that had returned to me a day or two ago, suddenly vanished again. After breakfast, we wandered over to where the Sherpas and porters were gathered to present them with cash as a tip for their services. Jim had an envelope for each person and would read a name and as they came to him to receive it, we whooped, hollered, and applauded. After he had handed out his last envelope, one porter stepped forward to report he didn’t get called. Jim assured him we would take care of it. I let Jim know that I had enough to give him right away, but he said he wanted to do it later after he figured out what the correct amount should be. There was a sliding scale and he had taken care of it all himself, but he needed to check his records. Later, Jim told us that he decided to just give him what he thought was the amount he gave the others, but then subsequently found the missing envelope and discovered he gave him too much. I offered that it served as compensation for his embarrassment over having to step forward and say he didn’t receive anything. Maybe in the future they will all be hoping they get missed the first time in hopes of getting a bigger tip.
Then we are off and it is a mostly uneventful trudge to Lukla. It is a long shift of hiking until lunch, which ends up being served around 1:30. We encounter just enough rain sprinkles to cause most of us to put on a jacket and some to cover their packs, and then it stops raining. The lunch stop is in a small, dark tea house where there was a rather large group of Japanese trekkers crashed out in various levels of rest. They slowly move out as we find seats at our place settings and food begins to arrive.
My cough is still bad. The afternoon kind of drags, but the views never end. It is all way beyond my ability to satisfactorily capture on camera. At one point, 
Jim turns and calls to the older Lhakpa, the Sirdar (Sherpa leader), and asks him to come forward, to walk the last stretch of the trail to Lukla, side by side. It is a poignant moment and reveals, I think, Jim is feeling added sentiment for the possibility this type of adventure may not happen for him again.
When we reach Lukla, the walk through town seems longer than any of us remember. We are done tenting and are given rooms at the lodge where we had tea that first day we arrived. The rooms are awesome and include a bathroom with a toilet. After our tea and snack, we collect the things we intend to donate to our service providers. Like several of the others in our group, I leave them my hiking boots, and then also fleece jacket, a dri fit t-shirt, some socks, solar calculator, some soaps, a pair of sunglasses, a nice ink pen, and left-over candy. It just gets turned over with nothing in the way of ceremony.
As I turned out the lights to sleep, I hear voices and activity outside and I peek out the window to find Lhakpa and the Sherpas sorting through the donated items. I have no way of telling whether our tips and donations were perceived by the staff as having our intended value. There were hints of evidence that the younger guys had a fresh spring in their step and smiles on their faces. I heard from others in our group that some of the guys had already done some shopping in town as soon as they arrived.
Relative Something 