Posts Tagged ‘People’
Truly Gorgeous
We were blessed with about as nice a day for bike riding in late October as one could hope for in our part of the world. Afternoon temperatures rose into the 60s(F) yesterday, and we enjoyed every bit of it.
Our gang of intrepid pedalers reached Stillwater in what felt like a blink of time. When we arrived at the photo frame, a mom was taking a picture of her daughter. Bob volunteered to take a picture of them both. In turn, she agreed to take a picture of us. We asked Lilly to stay and be in our picture, too. Her mom said Lilly smiled bigger for ours than when posing with Mom.
Before stopping for some lunch, we rode up and over the Hwy 36 bridge, pausing for a portrait in the middle, overlooking the beautiful St. Croix River.
On the other side, we were in Wisconsin for a short loop before dropping down a big hill to cross the old lift bridge that is now limited to bikes and pedestrians. This delivered us back to the bustling energy of families with young kids in Halloween costumes, enjoying festivities along the riverfront.
Navigating our way to a little market where a few of us purchased something to eat, we took advantage of public tables to consume some sustenance.
I brought my own lunch.
Bob gave me a thumbs-up of approval.
While sitting there, I caught sight of a very attractive woman approaching from the market with her arms full and visibly gushing with a glow of love. She was looking at an equally handsome man who was cuddling a tiny bundle that I knew had to be their beautiful baby.
I couldn’t help myself as they tucked the blanketed cherub into their pram and prepared to move on. I approached them to let them know how truly gorgeous it was to witness their obvious love and joy radiating so unmistakably. Their baby was 9 weeks old. Their happiness was such a delight to see.
I’m glad to have intruded on their space because they seemed really delighted with my gushing over them, and that rewarded me with a burst of their love energy.
The ride back to our cars was a continuation of superb cycling weather and scenery, and we reached just under 30 miles ridden by the time we finished.
I wonder if my legs will feel stiff in the next 24 hours. I hadn’t been on the bike since we did the Mickelson Trail in South Dakota.
I’m really grateful I didn’t pass up this opportunity to get out and enjoy the fabulous day and my fabulous cycling friends.
.
.
.
.
Starting Small
By the end of the day yesterday, we were seeing reports of the massive gatherings that happened in cities across the country, and contemplated what it would have been like to be in a gathering that large. At the same time, we highly value the chance to contribute our energies to smaller communities of rural citizens.
We are only up at our lake place in Hayward, WI, for the weekend, and didn’t have a lot of information about the local plans for No Kings Day. The pin on the location map put it at what I thought was an odd intersection of highways 27 and 63.
When we arrived at a spot to park our car, there was no hint of any atypical activity anywhere. Undaunted, Cyndie was ready to forge ahead no matter what. Then a car pulled up with two women who asked if we were there for the protest. That made four of us, and we walked to the corner and stood tall with signs, quickly receiving supportive honks from passersby.
In minutes, five others walked up, and shortly after that, the group doubled in size again. Checking with each other, we found that everyone was visiting from Minnesota, which brought a laugh. Soon, we learned that Hwy 27 travels along Hwy 63 for a few blocks and then turns to the east. The locals were all at that intersection, roughly three blocks to the south of us.
An intersection that made a lot more sense.
The hosts of this gathering were reporting headcounts of 500 early on and then 1200 not long after, in a city with a population of around 2600. I appreciated the chance to visit with someone who has been living just outside town for years after retiring and moving from a suburb of Chicago. The number of participants in the protest was very impressive to them.
The gathering was on all four corners of the intersection and stretched a long way down each of the blocks, generating an exciting amount of honking from like-minded supporters. Only occasionally did we receive scowls and middle finger gestures.
Glancing behind me at one spot, I noticed a guy sitting on a cement planter and wearing a red MAGA cap, silently holding a small sign that said, “God – Guns – & – Trump.” Eventually, he stood up but remained silent, and the people all around behaved as if they had no clue he was there.
I tried to surreptitiously snap a photo of his sign, though it meant the man remained out of sight behind the folks in the foreground.
It wasn’t a massive group we stood with in the small town, but there was no less energetic fervor shared in objection to all the offensive actions being enacted by the current administration.
It was pretty special to see the quiet little vacation community so vibrantly engaged in participating in the lawful, peaceful protest. Gosh darn, I wish all those people who didn’t vote in the last Presidential election had exercised that right when they had the chance.
.
.
Work Dreams
After you retire, if you want to know how to start dreaming about bizarre work challenges again, just drive the commute to your old day job to walk through the workplace and visit all your former coworkers again. I did just that last Tuesday and was rewarded doubly.
I enjoyed the pleasure of seeing their precious faces again, while they applied their trade skills in a spiffed-up facility under new ownership and management. As a bonus, I was rewarded with a mostly unrealistic dream a night later, involving imagined situations I was supposed to play a role in, while having no idea how to proceed.
It was a treat to see them all looking as good as always, and have everyone still remember who I was. Of course, it helped that I brought a batch of Cyndie’s home-baked scones, fresh out of the oven, to distract them from any lingering memories of why they hoped to never have to listen to my lame attempts at humor ever again.
– Lynne, I’m sorry it took barely a few minutes before I came up with some snarky remark to poke fun at you. –
In the years since I retired, I haven’t noticed missing the work, but I frequently miss being with these people. We spend more time interacting with coworkers most weeks of a career than we do with our families. The folks I was lucky to be with for many years were a very special work family for me.
If only I could convince the staff that they should hold their next company picnic at Wintervale Ranch. I’m sure I could talk Cyndie into baking some desserts for the occasion. I would even promise not to make the manure composting area one of the main features I’d show off.
After a day up at the Wilkus’ cabin in the middle of the week, Cyndie and I have taken advantage of an opportunity to get away to her family’s lake place for the weekend. We brought Asher along, too, so we only needed to find coverage for twice-a-day horse feeding for the few days.
Since we prefer to wake up at the lake whenever possible, we drove up last night under the cover of darkness. I think it might have helped me avoid any more dreams about the old workplace.
When can I expect to start having dreams about weird situations of being retired?
.
.
Virus Mania
It’s as if there is some sort of pandemic or something. The coronavirus is everywhere. That invisible little bug that half the people think is being way over-hyped while over a million others are dead from and hospitals are being stretched beyond capacity is not magically disappearing in the way some hoped.
Ignoring it doesn’t make it go away.
Radio on-the-street interviews capture a scary number of people who complain they are tired of the pandemic and frustrated with officials who are struggling to mandate protocols that can limit the spread. Not the proudest moment for the human race.
Staying home all the time is too hard. Really? How hard is it?
What if we had to practice avoiding others for a whole year? I don’t know. Maybe try imagining how hostages who are held for four times that long muster the ability to cope.
We have the promise of vaccines to look forward to, so the beginning of the resolution of the pandemic is within sight. It would be nice if people could rise to the occasion of not making things any worse than they already are while we work through the process of vaccine distribution on the way to achieving herd immunity.
Try pretending that it isn’t a hoax. Play along with us for a little while, for the good of the rest of the world population.
After it’s all over, maybe all the people who have lost jobs and businesses can be retrained to become firefighters or search and rescue EMTs to deal with the increasing wildfires and flooding hurricanes that global warming has continued to exacerbate while we have been distracted.
Just call me little miss sunshine this morning.
Forgive me. I’m just reacting sideways to the unending reports of GOP and White House lunacy stinking up the remnants of our democratic election here in the U.S.
I trust there is hope for a better day hiding out there somewhere. [Insert joke about expecting to find a pony in here someplace.]
I’ll keep digging. And staying home as much as possible.
.
.
Bad Dreams
I reached for something that wasn’t really there and despite the nonchalant attempt at pretending I meant to do that, it was obvious to anyone looking that something awkward was going on. It’s hard to fake being in control when there isn’t control to be had. When the brain snaps to attention and static is the only result, it’s hard not to suspect the worst.
When limbs won’t move and words won’t form, I think something deep within us begins to recognize a dream is underway and nudges consciousness toward the surface.
How can sleep be restful when a spectacular theatrical extravaganza is going on in a mind and driving the heart to pound like a hammer?
How can sanity be maintained when virus-mania is boiling over from every reporting entity at a-mile-a-minute?
Thankfully, I can happily report that there have been no positive COVID-19 test results for anyone at Wintervale up to this point. Of course, take that news with a grain of salt because no one here has been tested, either.
In that same vein, we will not be attending any NBA games, but we had no plan to do so, regardless. I will miss watching the excitement of the men’s NCAA March Madness basketball tournament this year, but I’m happy that sports businesses have joined the growing movement to postpone or cancel events that involve stadiums, or theaters, or classrooms full of people.
There are going to be a lot of folks out of work at the same time that the financial machine is melting down and my feeble mind is at a loss as to how this is all going to play out.
I have a feeling that not being able to watch spectator sports is going to become the least of our worries.
There will be unprecedented opportunities to practice the art of beaming love into the world in proportions greater than any suffering this latest pandemic might dish out.
May we all rise to the occasion.
Oh, and wash your hands out there.
.
.
Questions
.
who were all those people
in my dream this morning
before I woke up
where did they come from
and how did they know me
to include me so
why did my sunglasses
begin to flex the wrong way
confusing me
about which way they’re worn
I sensed right away
the flexing of the nose piece
would lead to a breach
which it did
as the dream progressed
and my search
for some tape
was a visual trip
past more people
I didn’t quite know
although I did
don’t you know
and while wrangling
with tape and sunglasses
several levels of failure
away from success
why did that guy
put Super Glue
all over the right lens
?
.
.
.
A Nutshell
Have I already shared this? I don’t recall. In a nutshell, here is a synopsis of the Wintervale Ranch story, composed for our “About” page on the Wintervale website.
Wintervale Ranch is a one of a kind retreat center started by Cyndie and John Hays upon their relocation from the suburbs of Minneapolis/St. Paul, MN in 2012. Inspired by their travels and life experiences, they began to explore the wonder of equine wisdom. Cyndie enrolled in an Epona apprenticeship program from which blossomed their life-changing move to a gorgeous paradise property in the rolling countryside of west-central Wisconsin.
With a wise herd of four Arabian horses and the beautiful setting not far from the Twin Cities metro area, Wintervale Ranch has become a destination for a variety of opportunities in personal and professional development, as well as rejuvenating health and wellness retreats. On twenty acres with forested trails, open pastures, an 11-circuit Chartes labyrinth, rolling hills with wild berries, perennials, flowers and towering trees, the setting provides an ideal atmosphere for quiet reflection, and opportunities for personal discovery and professional growth.
Wintervale Ranch is a perfect setting for individuals, teams, and small groups to explore possibilities beyond the usual limited focus of daily demands, while connecting with the wonderful wisdom of horses in a natural outdoor nurturing environment.
We invite you to inquire and begin your exploration of discovery. Find what dwells in your possibilities.
In the relatively short time that we have been striving to develop the vision we have for this place, it has become clear to us that our most rewarding outcomes result from the wonderful expressions of our guests, both their words and in the looks on their faces, as they take in the powerful ambiance of the overall setting. That type of reaction becomes magnified even more when the people spend time exploring the lessons and interacting with our horses during Cyndie’s workshops.
It is a thrill to witness learners discovering what dwells in their possibilities.
People visiting Wintervale bring this place to life, and at the same time, Wintervale reveals a broader depth of life to visiting people.
That’s it, in a nutshell!
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Repost: Lucky Guy
With my thanks to Rich Gordon, whose inquiry inspired me on Tuesday to revisit my memories of the Himalayan trek I did with Gary Larson back in 2009, today I am republishing something I wrote at the end of all the posts about that trip. From the Relative Something archives (with some updating edits), I bring you May 16, 2009’s “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 our world. I was born into a family, siblings and parents, who certainly made me the person 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 Larson, 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.
2016 Dec addendum: The luck doesn’t end. Since the time that post was written, I would add, David, Ward, the entire Rowcliffe family, Pattie, Tom & Sue, Bob, the Morales family of Dunia, Marco, Marco, & Jose. George and Anneliese. Doobie. I’d add Katie’s name a second time, because I feel doubly lucky for the ensuing years, as well as all the staff at the day-job.
Good people, indeed —the named and the still to be named— as this is far from being complete in naming people who have enriched my life.
Just like the moment that post was originally written… today I am lucky to be able to think of you all, once again.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Where
.
.
where are all the people
we meet along the way
for just a moment
for days, weeks, even months
sometimes years
who then vanish
for any number of reasons
they’re just gone
from our lives
as we all bob along
in life’s flow
from place to place
one job to the next
or schools
or towns that became home
surrounded by even more people
we don’t know at all
coexisting with strangers
extras in our movie
always there
but not really there at all
mobile mannequins
starring in their own biopics
that oddly don’t interact with ours
as scenes play out side by side
day after day
on the highways, in restaurants, and stores
the paths of our parks
with pets in tow
all these people we don’t even know
without the ones we did for a time
who’ve exited, stage left
while we continue on
with our small cast of family
and unique special friends
floating together
where the current goes
in the mysterious sea
of humanity
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.









