A Glowing Fire

I hesitate to call experiences ‘humbling,’ because it’s always seemed to me that the act of declaring humility defies the essence of it. That said...

The day after my last post I went in to meet with the faculty advisor overseeing my internship to discuss objectives. I expressed my passion for literacy, and the next thing I know, she’d set me up to meet with a group in the area that coaches adults who struggle to read and write at a fifth grade level.

 The building was of simple brick, located in a quiet industrial corridor offset from the main commercial artery that cuts through the Salt Lake valley. A receptionist let me in to a locked door at the top of a stairway which led to a basement illuminated by artificial halogen light refracted back from clean linoleum floors. It had a sterile feel and smelled of warm air from printers and copiers, gone stale and still in the dead space of the hallways and their dark rooms. There was a second where it all made me wonder why I’d come.

I picked up the muffled sounds of human voices, following them until a room opened to view. A room full of people and light and laughter. The only common denominator of any of our physical features was that we were all human, but everything from style to iris color to age was represented across the board. They drew me in quickly, introductions were sincere and immediate and within minutes of entering this foreign place, I found myself a world that immediately became part of me.

There was one man whose image I couldn’t help but seek to capture any time it would escape his notice, something familiar about his movements struck me. Tell tale lines of a lifetime’s expressions carved a decorative surround to his warm, honey brown eyes. His color palette was of burnt copper and earth. These beautiful, stunning elements stuck out to me before I noticed the ragged challenges of a difficult life his image otherwise bore testament to. His writing was some of the most genuine and heartfelt I’ve read or heard and came from the purest place in the human soul. It wasn’t until he spoke to read it, in a gravelly voice of dried tobacco, that I understood my draw to him. He was the living shadow of a friend I have known and loved for years, a resemblance all but buried in the effects of radically different lifestyle. It caught my heart to see familiar fragments of a dear friend reflected back in the eyes of a stranger.

In my pursuit of personal achievement, I forget that every race requires winners and losers. I forget that the values I grew up learning to embrace, the American Dream, are founded in competition. The AmeriCorps Vista with whom I share desk space said it well today -

 "The 'pull yourself up by the boot strap' mentality suggests that through hard work and perseverance one can succeed. I do agree with this statement to a degree; the problem is that it is only half of the equation. Opportunity, or more specifically, the lack of opportunity, is the elephant in the room that no one wants to discuss."

In our little microcosms, we don’t see the full scale of the lives of those who surround us. Rather, we exist in a place where it’s easier to judge people according to our starting point and standards we’ve held ourselves to, rather than to make an inquiry into what are uniquely theirs and why. I at least am guilty of that. I have never intended to be a harping, insensitive critic – but those are steps I’ve unfortunately tread in my evaluation of the world around me. There are things I’ve taken for granted about my circumstances and the wealth of resources available to me. Even the resource of love I have come to ponder as a strange and perplexing commodity that we are not blessed equally with, either in our reception of or capacity to give, let alone understand.

It just harrows me to know and to see firsthand that despite so much abundance in some of the world, there are still people who fall through the cracks. Human lives that get overlooked, people we don't realize can't read nutrition labels, release forms or even junk mail. Whoever said ignorance was bliss was not only mistaken, but knew not the painful and limiting confines of illiteracy.

There’s a hymn in the canon, I don’t know its origins and can’t find them now, but it says that because I have been given much, I too must give. And so I am, or hope to. And having something to give as well as the ability to do so, I am realizing, is an incredible blessing in and of itself.

-JH 

Literal Progress

I have about a hundred other things I could and should be doing looking me in the face from the calendar on my wall, the list on the desk, the missed call registry on my phone screen... shut up. Give me a minute.

We talk of progress - in my country we love it, obsess over it, worship it at times. Progress is a word that by definition  becomes enshrouded in shades of grey and ambiguity. People throw the endorsement at all sorts of undeserving things. An unsustainable leap forward in industry riddled with opportunity costs to environmental, social and cultural entities is still called progress, at least until the shine wears off and the endeavor falls on its face and the critics flock like vultures to the remains. A circle progresses in an endless cycle, but does it really get anywhere? Momentum cannot always be considered progress, not all steps forward are headed in a worthwhile direction.

 I once heard that "if it isn't sustainable, it isn't real." Take that qualifier to progress and it truly shifts the wheat from the chaff. So, I've sought a more solid, consistent word for the principle of true progress and chosen literacy.

 Literacy is an applied, sustainable, real progression - an individual forming a closer relationship with the world around them through words, understanding, enlightenment. It often doesn't come easily - the costs are harrowing, sacrifices poignant, experience real and deeply human.

I believe in literacy. By that I mean I give my life, my energy, my passion and my blood for it. It's the principle behind the metaphors in my life - why I climb, why I seek education, why I love people, why I invest in relationships and experiences and life itself.  And while illiteracy may not be the most inimical barrier to true progress, it's one I'll happily kick in the teeth all the days of my life.

So here I am. Back in class for the semester and blessed with an internship with an organization that supports literacy as clearly as any, learning the skills I need to contribute to its crusade.

Still tired, still overbooked. But I'm where I need to be. In the moments that I realize this is tangible progress, these things I am building and will be able to share - conviction burns like fire clear and bright in me, and I forget the costs. I am content, alive and here.

JH

Lessons from the Riv

Four states, three rivers, many nights under the stars and under the elements, go go go... and rest. In my own house. My own bed. Nesting in for the fall semester, which starts Monday. Dug my heels in this weekend - turned down some boating and climbing invitations in favor of simply just existing in one place, not hounding more highway miles in pursuit of another adventure. Though I do love adventure and the summer has been full of it to a blissful degree. All good things come to an end, and great things are ahead.

Headed up to Jackson Hole last weekend to run the Snake for the first time, just for fun with friends. Completely gorgeous place, amazing canyon, beautiful water. Loved the section. And playing on the water with friends is a riot, I can't even explain the liberation of taking it all in for recreation's sake vs. guiding. Totally different. 

Spent a night at home, did some laundy, threw everything back in the car and headed for Moab. I hadn't been there since last fall - in five summers, that's the longest I've been away. The Colorado Plateau melts me to my core - especially under rainstorm when ruddy waterfalls pour off of Wingate cliffs, when brilliant red stands in the foreground of menacing, ominous black clouds, when entire roads wash away under a crimson flash flood. I saw it all and then some. Reconnected with a batch of people I love. Put in my third trip with a private school from Denver, forty something high school juniors, twenty some canoes, a night of heavy rain and chaos aplenty, and my second unintentional swim of my career. Can I just say that watercraft should be, without exception:

• Closed hulled and watertight, i.e. kayak
• Self bailing, i.e. a decent raft
• Incapable of holding water, i.e. constructed of pontoon flotation, like a cataraft  

Canoes are ridiculous. Whoever thought of putting their bathtub in a river and steering it with a silly stick was  a primitive being from whom we should have learned and evolved technology to include the above three bulleted conditions. I've guided half a dozen canoe trips in my guiding career,each was special in its own right; and I have at least six reasons that the next time this group calls, it's kayak or no deal. 

Going through what would be a benign and unremarkable wave train for a raft, squared up, paddling through the waves, and ten of them break right into the bathtub. Of course it fills up. I'm looking down into the chocolate milk of the Colorado, sitting in my seat still, gear bobbing from its ties, the only thing above water. Canoe is completely immersed up to the gunnels. It didn't even flip. I bobbed out and swam it to shore, got elbows deep with a bail bucket and a few hundred pounds of water, five minutes later back in the current. 

My dear friend and co-guide complimented the speed and efficiency of the self-rescue a number of times, and I was like hey thanks, I still swam. It got me thinking though. I'm no canoodler, I'm a friggin' whitewater guide. There are the things that translate - experience, ability to read the current, medical training, knowledge of the environment, authoritative personality. And then there's the actual art and craft of canoe paddling, which I'm novice to. Inexpert. Inefficient. Imperfect. But I sure can haul a drowned bathtub full of junk through a swift current and hammer out a complete recovery in minutes flat. 

And so it is with life sometimes. We get swamped, we swim without meaning to, we lose our seat and our footing and occasionally flotation itself. There are times when a good and honest recovery effort is the best you can bring to the table, when a flawless execution was simply outside of your skill set. There's a lot to be said for the fortitude to not give up and be swept away, the humility to make ammends/apology, courage to get back in the saddle and go for it again. I give people credit for that - and if you look, it can be seen everywhere. Humanity is amazing.

And canoodling still sucks. 

;)

JH

Anniversary Night

One year, one place. Interrupted by many gypsy excursions hither and yon, but the keyholder of one dwelling in the universe for an entire year, as of today. First time in my adult life.

   An ocean of puffy golden clouds over the Wasatch, crescendo to pink, dissappate, darken. City lights twinkling behind charcoal silhouettes of trees, the last stripe of red flaring over the Great Salt Lake before the sunset is out, snuffed by the shades of enveloping night.  Enter on its waves, its obscuring curtains of black - cricket song, cool gentle breeze and motorcycle hum. Salmon baking, bed of rice waiting inside, garlic pepper goodness adrift in the air. All this from the back deck, lower level, same condo, different year. One. Whole. Year. And I'm still here. 

  I cut my hair today. While driving. On the interstate. Reached for an unsuspecting pair of scissors and lopped my ponytail off. I'd been contemplating a change half seriously, thinking of a birthday rite of passage. Some changes need to happen with no further thought in the moment they're given, though - and so it is and will be. Haggard and choppy until I have time to bask in the opulent radiance of a salon, get it shaped, colored, teased. I won't pretend to mind until then, it wasn't about the aesthetic, but rather the liberation and shedding of a finished history. Time spoke and the blade fell. Hadn't been above the shoulders since middle school.

  Birthday in a month. Edging in on some of the goals I'd set when musing about it a few posts ago. Cutting useless weight from my hair, frame, habits. Honing in. Simplifying. And honestly, some days still just trying not to drown. All is well though, happy to be alive, in my own shoes and on my own road, crossing state lines ceaselessly, the means to the tying of ever-loosening, unruly ends. I am so nauseatingly, exhaustedly sick of traveling. But I'm at the end of the what-I-wouldn't-give rope - and I'm not giving up what's left for the comfort of sitting still. 

  It's progress of sorts to have one place I've come back to for a solid year. Like a homing pigeon. Perhaps in years to come, I'll cease to fly the coop and figure out what it really means to be still. 

  And then again maybe not. This gypsy blood runs strong though wearied, aged and with increased responsibility.  

JH

Front Porch

Unberievable. Picked up a wireless signal on the front porch of the Gelco. Internet in this town used to be hard to come by, apparently in 2010, its been gettin' around. Mixed feelings - appalled, bummed, shrugging... maybe I'll just toss the laptop into the Little Salmon once I hit post, I can hear it gurgling along on this starry night. My cell phone's still dead to the world 3 miles from New Meadows, ducking out of society will just be one step less convenient with wireless signals creeping over the land.

Alive and well in Idaho. For the weight of preparation and reluctance for departure, transition came quick and seamlessly. Different life here, way different. Loving it. Writing often - for pleasure, for art, letters and cards too. Taking a step back in time and leaving the internet and cell phone out of my actual communication routine. It comes highly recommended. Pushing the reset button on programs, paradigms, priorities...

Been swimming every night, hot springs and river. Rafting most days. Family's been at the cabin. Hiked up the 'trail' to School Marm peak tonight with friends. Wore flip flops, 'cause I wanted to. Didn't bring a camera, 'cause I wanted to selfishly absorb the moment without considering its publicity. Brilliant and stunning, sunset over the bends of the Salmon River, surrounding peaks and snow capped Seven Devils. I will take and post pics at some point, shot a roll of film last week, felt amazing. Ran most of the way down, flip flops and all. Want to do the trail every night I'm in Riggins, good exorcise for the soul, exercise for the cardiovascular unit. And in Riggins, there ain't much else going on besides drinkin and talking trash, the former grows boring from the sidelines and the latter's been done ad nauseum. Local boys on the beach tonight were still talking about their glorified high school football days, a good four plus years ago. Time moves slowly here, it might be time for the old to go out, but the influx of new is sleepy and delayed, so the old stays on replay well past its prime. Speaking of, I'm finding that you can only spend so much time alone with an Ayn Rand novel before you start to go a little nutso. Damn you Atlas Shrugged.

All in all, things are beautiful. So alive and here that it hurts - no place I'd rather be. I'm not going into any more depth, and not interested in making the language or the post any prettier. Happy, healthy, life is simple.

Peace and love,
JH

Mellow Yellow

I generally dislike yellow. Typing it, I've oversimplified the word even - what a curious assembly of letters, a rolling syllabic duo. Lately I've either cured my aversion or put it into retirement.

A yellow scarf, t-shirt, nail polish, dress, and quart of paint now adorning two furniture pieces. Like the Yellow page of a child's learning book, all these similar items assimilated into one unlikely place - with me.

Little yellow tokens of my willingness to embrace New and move forward, perhaps. Maybe like taste buds changing with age, my visual taste is changing the accepted layers of deliciousness; I'm merely experimenting with parameter expansion. The yellow furniture came on a whim, I just pulled a card at Home Depot. It worked with the burgundy and green tones. Done deal. New furniture. Bingo. Fresh, change. It fits perfectly.

Admittedly reluctant to embark on the JH Gypsy Excursion v. Summer 2010. I'm happy here and now - Florida made me deliriously, delightfully appreciative of dry air, wildflowers, topography, melting snowpack and everything that is late springtime Wasatch. Maybe I'm buying yellow faith and courage, attempting to transport these wildflowers and this feeling with me in my travels. I've never in my life drug my feet like this - I guess it's partially due to how deeply I've tread these familiar places over time. And I'm a little tired of the process of vagrancy - sucking in breath for upheaval, building momentum. Getting there.

I'm finishing the remodel just in time to drop everything, hop state lines and relocate myself. That's like taking the gift from under the tree, unveiling it from the wrapping, seeing the photo on the outside of the box but leaving the scene without actually opening it or playing with the contents. God willing, the house will still be here upon my return. I'll absorb the newness of it all fully when the CFS of the Salmon drops and the huckleberries have been plucked into shriveled oblivion.

Still moved by an undying thirst in need of quenching. Just moving slow this time around, my youthful affections grown into deep and abiding love. I've sown wild oats in passionate, girlish whims over the course of the past summers. Sweet, perennial fields wait now... to be danced in. Slow dance, this time.

JH

Quarterlife Confessional

Life is strange.

Enough so that I’ve abandoned belief in coincidence. Some things are inconsequential enough to come together without force. Other seemingly simple things strike at moments too opportune for me to negate even the possibility of divine orchestration.

One juicy, delicious blessing I have in my life is that of a Best Friend. Movie and literature portrayals don’t touch this. We've been together in spirit for over a decade now, distance has come, gone and come again, and the friendship grows ever stronger. When I think about it, I really, truly can’t believe the amazing and profound influence this has been on who I am. I’m grateful for our connection every day, every moment I’m alive.

Relationships like that don’t just happen. And they don’t grow without effort to be a true friend to the other person, and to be a person true enough that one would want to call friend.

I read back through my blog the other day, musing on the musings. There’s been a giant snowball barreling down the hill of my life the past few years. It looks like self sacrifice, it’s fueled by insanity, it manifests in my ability to overbook and over commit, and it grips like an iron stranglehold. My vices are my vise. I like being busy, I am fond of challenge, I’m relatively capable. So I take on new things, I try to do it all, I make sacrifices.

It’s not working any more.

I’ve distributed my energy too far and wide to have any left over for myself. I stopped reading. I took on more jobs. I gave up much without realization, but my efforts were too diluted to count for lasting satisfaction.

I just got a B+ in a class I could have spent five minutes more to get an A, for example. The non-profit I edit for is still waiting for me to hit a week, maybe two, old deadline. I got a ¼ of my flooring in before realizing I’d dead ended the flow and had to turn back, pull it up, and start over with the end more clearly in mind. I’m just not being effective or striking the mark with accuracy the first time around.

Who knows what else I’ve lost in my frenzy.

All I know now is that while this madness I’ve created could be sustainable, it doesn’t have to be. I’d like to regain something of true, authentic and raw happiness. I wasn’t born to be a robot.

It’s three months minus spare change til my next birthday. A lot can happen in three months. I can’t effectively and permanently change my habits overnight, but I bet there’s a lot I can do in the range of three months to hone in what gives my existence real meaning.

Also noted in my blog scan – I’ve failed to record some crucial, intrinsic quarterlife goodies, such as the developments surrounding the ‘what I’m doing with my life’ dilemma. Total quarterlife material right there, and I’ve never even bothered to mark the progress or muse on the journey. So here it is.

I’m declared as an English major, news which didn’t stun the ears of former teachers, but took some growth and increased perception for me to accept. I didn’t want to be an English major. I didn’t want to be a teacher when I grew up. I wanted to be an icy, powerful business woman, and here I am in the middle of the humanities field – right where I discovered, albeit with reluctance, that I need to be.

I need school. Like oxygen, like water, like vitamin D. Need it. Because it is the hallowed ground I walk to prove a challenge to myself, a birthplace of invaluable relationships and experiences, the refinery where my raw materials are gathered for development and consecration. There are other places where this occurs, but school is still irreplaceable. It’s not for everyone, but it is for me.

All things hideous and beautiful considered, I’ll be around Academia for a while, likely a good long while, as my vision has expanded and I aim now for not only literacy but expertise. Bridges will be crossed when arrived at, I can only speculate what they’ll look like, but I aim to reach the end of the line in the career path I choose, to attain the ultimate degree available in my field.

I feel shy saying that. I don’t know why. I’m pioneering my way through college, no one in my heritage has been there. It makes me feel like a gawky strangeling in a new land.

Anyway, it’s late and in summary, I have recognized that if I am to give the things that matter the energy that will make them happen well, I have to prune back my outreach and implement improved time management policies. I’ve identifed and said as much for a while, but it’s time to go and do it. And do it better, and not strike out.

I am grateful for friendship that keeps me in check and lets me know when my feet are on solid earth, gently pulling back to the soil as needed.

With love,
JH

It's Killing Me.

Slowly, softly.
Just like that.

Bereft of balance and bathing in chaos, I drone on at a deadly pace, robotic accomplishments, forced effort. I make it, but it's little more than survival. Self criticism creeps in - why isn't this done? Where is your perfection? What is the holdup? Even, where is your flair and charisma?

Then I recall the fury of the past few months; triumphs, exercises, tests, breaking news, milestones, projects, unforecasted storms enveloping entire provinces of my being and realigning everything from it's comfortable place. And I think, it's okay, I can be gentle with myself now, I know. I'm worn, yet not beaten down.

Dali said: "Have no fear of perfection - you'll never reach it." I would have come at that with fists flying a year ago. Now I nod and feel relief wash over my being - relax a little. Survival isn't always enough... but at times, it's a remarkable achievement.

That said, maybe this is humility. Maybe this is being real. None of it is bad, it's all just coming in at warp speed and peeling layers of static away until things are completely raw and new.

I have experienced a new sensation - a pang of wanting something to step in and save me, to intervene on my behalf. Some people look to Jesus for that. All I've got is an exhausted face in filmy mirror... but I'm open to alternatives. Maybe more open, real and alive now than ever.

Then again, maybe not. Maybe I'm just swamped. Change and subjectivity could be life's only constants.


With love, still...
JH

P.S. Because that was way too serious and borderline depressing...

;)

Spring and the Musts

Surfacing from hectic, crazed few months of winter. Vague illustration: many 13 hour days on end. Running a business, teaching hundreds of ski lessons, freelance writing projects in addition. Entertaining a 15credit load of college classes, maintaining relationships, grasping for sanity, sharing space with another human being plus visitors and houseguests, life....

Cheers to spring. New buds on the trees, sunshine and blue skies. The turn of new pages and onset of much improved schedule.

I've been climbing every single day this week, at the gym and outside now. The approaches have been a little muddy, and some snow patches to be tromped through, but so worth it and so gorgeous out.

Two days on trails/road with my mountainbiking class, love it, getting worked by it, can't wait to love it some more and get worked by it less. My biking instructor (who is a radical triathlete and power-woman extraordinaire...) commented that there are Three Musts if you live in Utah:

Skiing
Rock Climbing
Mountainbiking

Amen to that. And I'm 3 for 3 this week.
Love the Wasatch!

JH

Post Equinox

This may come off as intolerant. It is.

I really can't stand complaints about problems people are capable of solving, yet unwilling to solve or admit fault with.

 I detest the description of circumstances as 'lucky' when the person within them has struck a match of opportunity against the friction of preparation and sacrifice.

I laud expression, ALL expression, in its right time and place. But there's a difference between expressing fears and strife vs. aimless whining. The former tends to go down better with a chaser of effort, ambition, and fortitude.

I tire of seeing the brilliance, strength and ability in people who are unwilling to embrace and work with it. By tire I mean it exhausts my soul; it'd probably break my heart if I let it.

This is part intolerant ranting, part self coaching. They say that people point out the faults in others that they most recognize in themselves, even subconciously. We're hyperaware of what we are striving to control - internally and externally.

To people who are young, childless, healthy and living in the United States*: If you dislike your circumstances, change them. No, seriously, stop making excuses. Change your circumstances. Oh, they're complex? Well so is the mind, and it's capable of finding a way, and you live in a time and place with virtually limitless means.Change exacts a price, and no one said it was going to be simple or comfortable. In fact, I don't recall comfort and ease as prerequisite conditions for life itself. But don't call an unwillingness to pay the price impossibility.

My peers* have at times lamented the difficulty of their lives to me, expressing their powerlessness, their unmet needs and desires, longings. I can be gentle when it's called for, but when hopeless rhetoric continues to spill forth with no light at the end of the tunnel, I lose all desire to be accomodating. My interpretation of the golden rule as it applies here: If and when I have abilities I've sold out for a defeatist attitude and dismay, I would hope to be encouraged to lift myself to the strong and competent being I am. I don't want to be babied, coddled, saved, validated in weakness or even distracted. I want to work hard to solve my problems, I want to be believed in. Maybe everyone isn't on the same page with that, but that's what I'll give and would like to receive. Sure, the quarterlife phase is hard - but it's a lot harder when you hold on to counterproductive attitudes.

The time has come to cash in on some of my abilities and pursue some goals, hard, relentlessly. Some pending changes...

I don't want to write more; I need to write. Not blog, not email, not jot, not doodle, not casual journaling. Good, hard writing in private sessions consecrated and dedicated for that specific need for expression.

I don't want to work out more; I need to be physically raw, to run breathlessly, heave like an animal and feel innate power surge through my veins. Run, climb, ride hard.

I don't just want to hang out to pass the time; I need reciprocated connections that nourish, are poignant and real.

I'm off the fence, done holding my breath, wasting my time, and swimming in fluff.

Spring is so invigorating....
JH

Huckleberries

I've said it before and I'll say it again. That Benjamin Franklin had it all wrong. It's huckleberries that serve as proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy. Perhaps I speak for myself - but it rings very, very true in this moment.

This past month has effectively rivaled any and every other in terms of busyness for me. Wow. I'm still not caught up. I'm still actually quite overwhelmed. But I'm coping. Credit due to the simple pleasures - a bowl full of berries, a nice talk with a loving friend, taking one extra run as fast as I can between lessons.

Life is good. Life is abundant. I'm swimming in it. And I love it.

A few newsworthy haps...
I bought a car, and it runs like a champ - mega improvement. Civic bit the dust. I sold it for $450 cash and an Ipod.

Ski season is wrapping up, bittersweet sunset on another beautiful year in the Wasatch, have met and kept some wonderful relationships, skied often and been well.

I am now a licensed and registered business owner. This has been a huge endeavor, and will continue as such while I set up office-y stuff; quarterly reports, payroll, tax withholding, etc. I confess... I love it.

If I can work my business just right, I'll still be able to spend half my summer on the river, the dirty one AND the clear one. That makes my heart sing just thinking about it! And you know what happens in August, right?

... Huckleberry harvest.

:)
JH

Say When

Fifteen days of blur. As a veteran, I know when the tides of tourism come and go in the ski industry, but they rock the boat nonetheless. Presidents' week 2010: over and done. Hallelujah!

A few kinks that got thrown into the mix this year:

Took my dear PHG, age 7, skiing the day after Pres'. Car blew up on the highway. Initial bid for repair: $800. Finding a way up the mountain, having an awesome day in spite of it all, and keeping the kid in smiles - priceless. It was a really gorgeous day - soft, sparkling snow and sunshine!

In the wake of the disabled vehicle, a lost wallet that led to a missed then delayed flight, which led to a belated birthday celebration (happy 8th, TJ!) and some treasured moments with beloved faces before a quick turnaround trip back to SLC. Short as it was, I'm grateful for the respite of soul.

Change sure is life's only constant, there are no guarantees. I admit, I do enjoy a good challenge. Something about the dynamism and charisma that crisis summons is such an endorphin high. At least when things turn out... ;)

I have been musing about tragedy, since the world is seemingly host to an abundance lately (see also: Haiti, Chile).

I wish suffering on no one and my heart goes out to those struggling in the aftermath of loss and devastation. I am inspired by the way people can bind together for positive outcomes and come 'back down to earth' in the face of devastation. Humility and team work are so much more beautifully infused in a society than pretentious, classist arrogance and enmity. Disaster can amplify the latter, too - though when faced with serious struggles for survival alone, people seem more willing to cut the crap.

Part of my ongoing Quarterlife education has been learning when to 'say when' and having the courage/tenacity to do so.  I'm coming to terms with my inability to be everything to everyone. That was once a goal, before I understood at a grown-up level the meaning of resources. Time, energy, emotion, the like... precious beyond belief! I have my causes to which I am absolutely and unwaveringly devout - but only a few; they know who they are.

The tiers of priority are stacked, with more opportunities clamoring for a place. I've only got so much. The foundation is care for self - there's nothing to give if your resources are bankrupt. Then family. And so it goes... and at some point, we all have to cut the crap, and invest where it counts - be real, be really there for those that need us.

JH

Holiday Love

If I see one more piece of candy... I'm probably still going to eat it, and continue the month long chocolaty, sugary buzz I've had going, as well as fantasize about spending the entirety of January on a veggies-wholegrains-100% juice only detox plan.

If I have one more event to go to, I'm probably going to enjoy it as much as the others, and appreciate the wealth of people I've been blessed to spend the season with. I'm also going to appreciate the stillness, peace and warmth of a silent house a little more every night, til my day-to-day gets more boring and attains even the semblance of routine.

Christmas week has been truly glorious, one that I will look back on fondly. I've had more time off of work this week than the past seven seasons combined - bookings are down, no surprise given the second year of the recession, but it is more drastic than I expected. Yesterday the Children's Center was as busy as a normal spring day. Usually the fourteen days surrounding Christmas have the place filled to the brim with a delicately organized chaos and pandemonium. Yesterday was a breeze, the kids could even converse over lunch without shouting across the table just to hear one another. I even got the afternoon off after teaching a private lesson, and that's after having the entire week off already. A co-worker makes (delicious) fortune cookies, and yesterday mine read something like : Fear not, prosperity will come to you soon. Ironic.

I like my friend Tim's take on the whole thing. He pointed out yesterday that we might actually have to ski this year. Like take real runs, for fun, while waiting for lessons. We might like it. Our bills might increase or be harder to pay. But what if we actually spend this season doing more of what we love, what we're here for in the first place? In the long run, it probably won't matter that we made less money. It's still going to be a great season.

While visiting home for the week, I got peppered with questions about my relationship status, as per norm. There are distant relatives and friends who maintain a 'milestones only' conversational pattern - and I really haven't had much to report in terms of milestones. My last graduation was high school, and I haven't been capital Dating Anyone in over two years. I'm boring holiday catch-up material, for sure.

My paternal grandpa always has the best (most worthy of recap) way of asking/saying It. Last year, he gave me a sad-puppy faced look and said, over Thanksgiving dinner, "Are you EVER going to find someone and settle down??" This year -

G: So, you have a boyfriend down there [in Utah] yet?

JH: No, why would I need one of those?

G: To keep you warm.

JH: My furnace works well. In my car and my house. And I have a lot of blankets and winter jackets. I stay pretty warm.

G: Well, you're sure getting pretty, if I were your age.... (trails off and leaves room to refill glass of whiskey...)

I know Gramps means well, and I like to think everyone else does too. There's a sadness for him in my being single that I don't share, but I can see it's a way of him being worried about me, an extension of his love and concern.

People come from different frames of reference - Grandpa found his 'sweetheart' at sixteen, and they figured out how to make a life together, paved the way for a whole room full of people to exist in the world, and still love one another, flirtatiously even, sixty years later. From belonging to a family to creating one, they've never been alone.

My other side of the family is comprised largely of young families, people who married within a few years of high school, most of whom had at least one child by my age. Similarly to my grandparents, they've not spent time alone. They hope for me to share a bit of their brand of happiness, and are looking forward to giving me the 'pat on the back' for achieving it. Not a bad thing.

What's amusing to me is the assumption that this is something temporary, a holding out for something better kind of stage. I guess it is for some people. And I guess if I chose to look at it that way, I could adopt the perspective. It seems limited, though.

As a rower, I know in reality and metaphor the cost of momentum, the effort it takes in terms of muscle and dedication to steer a craft through rough waters and around obstacles, to have a destination in mind and exert the continued effort to get there.

I'm not beached, waiting for a pair of muscles to stroll up and take my oars and write my story for me.

I'm downriver from that, my efforts are direct and focused, I am moving along swift currents. Someone might sidle up with mutual intentions someday, but I'm not going to camp out for it, I'm not slowing, and I'm not aborting ship for someone else's dreams. I don't think my well-meaning relatives understand that. But I do love them deeply, appreciate their lives and concern for my welfare.

Time and energy are precious commodities. I have enough to invest in my writing, work, learning and studies, and the people who I've already recognized as permanent and beautiful fixtures in my eternal life. And then those commodities are pretty well distributed, and I'm satisfied with the return on the investment.

I'm taking the spring term off from school. As much as I want to push my graduation date back, I don't see much point in doing so at the expense of Everything Else. I'm happily employed - which I'm recognizing more and more is an absolute blessing. I've got a substantial chunk of my novel written, am in love with the characters and eager to pour more of myself into it's creation. And it looks like I'm going to have to spend more time than anticipated actually enjoying skiing... shucks ;)

I hope the spirit of Christmas and the warmth of the holiday season has filled your hearts and homes. I send love and good tidings your way, and extend the invitation again that y'all come visit the greatest snow on earth and ski some Utah powder this year.

Love,
JH

Settled In

I realised I promised follow-up from the New Place post... here ya go.

Still working on putting a photo collage across the blank wall...

Ferguson Canyon makes a nice backdrop for writing and studying.

Visitors welcome!

The Wasatch is calling YOU.

Now if you'll please excuse me, I have schoolwork calling/sucking my will to live. This semester ends THURSDAY. Get me out of here, I'd rather be skiing ;)

-JH

Stimulants

"There is a substance [caffeine] in tea and coffee which when taken into the human system, tends to increase the beating of the heart; which in turn increases the rapidity of the circulation of the blood and of breathing. This causes the body to become warmer and more exhilarated. After a time, however, this temporary enlivenment passes off, and the body is really in a greater need of rest and recuperation than it was before the beverage was taken. Stimulants are to the body what the lash is to the lagging horse—it causes a spurt forward but gives no permanent strength or natural nourishment. Frequent repetitions of the lash only make the horse more lazy; and the habitual use of strong drink, tobacco, tea, and coffee, only tends to make the body weaker and more dependent upon the stimulants to which it is addicted."

-David O. McKay

(read full article here)



Words to live by, as far as I'm concerned.
JH

December?!

Friends at Temple Square!

Friends and countrymen, 2009 is on its way out the door, its days are numbered. How bout that?

I celebrated my first Thanksgiving away from Boise last week; truly a lovely event with food, dear friends and great live music. It looks like I'll be in Salt Lake for Christmas too, another first holiday away from home and family.

Things are getting rolling for ski season, and I will be working as an Instructor on a more full time basis this year. I'm looking to store some funds for spring travels... locations TBA. Next summer's Plan won't really shape up until it's here. I, on the other hand, am shaping up to be prepared for it. Some of my wonderful and anonymous friends in Idaho have me inspired in the realm of fitness.

One of the guys I worked with last summer has the physique of a professional fighter, and is more or less on a permanent training regimen, which includes things like lifting cinderblocks and running full boar up hillsides so steep that most people would feel cautious walking down them. While I don't plan to emulate his exact regimen by any means, I do desire something of his results. Another co-worked and I have decided to be "at least as porportionally ripped."

For a woman, I have a fairly muscular physique. Attribute it to work and lifestyle choices - skiing, rowing, climbing, hiking, etc, or heredity, whatever. I genuinely enjoy physical work and feeling athletic and capable. I don't idealize competing with vintage Schwarznegger, but let's just say that I'd take that hulk over the gaunt, frail and emaciated frame of, say, MK Olsen on a bad year any day.

I'm looking at a comprehensive physical overhaul and losing about 20 pounds of excess. So far, I've been climbing and increased my activity level, but I'm just getting started. I have yet to discover a form of indoor, winter-evening friendly cardio I don't loathe outside of climbing, I hate the dull repetition of indoor running. So. I'll be writing more during the journey, but there's the forecast.

Some nerd notes… I indulged in a rousing bout of Trivial Pursuit last night, and ohhhh do I love that game! I’ve been on a foreign film bender, and intend to post more frequent reviews of film, lit and pop culture analysis. In my mind, writing a review is like the chocolate of rhetoric, and I have a mad sweet tooth for some serrrrious decadence. :)

Happy December, however and whatever your holiday celebrations bring, I hope it's a season full of love and warmth of spirit.
JH

Jealousy is not productive.

If you want something, go get it.

If you honestly can't have it, get new goals.

There's no benefit to wallowing in wasted emotion.

Let's get awkward...

As you may know, my sister is getting married in May of 2010. I only have one sister. And she is three years my junior. I'm as comfortable with this scenario as last year's winner of the International Hot Dog Eating Contest was with the contents of their stomach after the timer went off and they had a minute to hold still.

That said, I'm looking to beat her to the altar, and contestants are encouraged to apply... and quickly.

Some of the perks I'm willing to throw in, for the right candidate, include:

- A Season Pass to Alta Ski Resort, annually, for the duration of the matrimonial union.
- A place at my lavish and desirably located condo. Which is, I may add, kept meticulously clean to a professional level.
- Meals, often ethnic and/or vegetarian via my preference, though I can cook anything, and pretty well at that.
- Of course, the inherent benefits of marriage - tax cut, social position, partnership, blah blah blah.
- An enthusiastic and passionate partner for: outdoor adventures, globe-trotting, conversation, etc, etc.

In following with Ghandi's beautiful words, "Be the quality you seek," I wouldn't expect anything from a candidate that I do not expect from myself. Here are the pre-reqs advised for anyone wishing to apply, as well as some things that can be expected:

Self sufficiency to an acceptable, adult level. Candidate must possess the motivation and initiative to strive for multi-faceted personal growth, including but not limited to:
-A basic level of satisfaction with own life.
-Pursuit of educational and intellectual development, at the college level and beyond.
-A command of at least the English language; competent communication skills.
-An interest in health and nutrition, and an active lifestyle.
-Financial health - no outstanding debt to mafia or casinos, or obscene lines of credit.
-Ambitions, at the least, toward a career, and steps in that direction (i.e. school, employment...)

* I don't smoke anything, drink alcohol, or indulge in recreational substance use. Nor do I detest those who choose otherwise; however, that will be a tenet of the union, and on that note, no pets.

*I enjoy the company of people from all walks of life, and ideally, a partner would have a charisma that allowed the same, as well as relatively presentable manners, and social intelligence enough not to offend the masses, or cause riotous outbreaks in public.

* I enjoy skiing, climbing, hiking, the arts - modern dance, literature, galleries of stunning images captured by stroke of hand or lens, opera, musical performances in general. I like to attend events and lectures that stimulate the mind and heart. I enjoy the pain and gratification of self improvement, from breaking down my own misconceptions about the world to tearing the flesh off my palms on a route.

I am open a ceremony in one of these, eventually, although this or possibly even this could be negotiated for the time being.

Thank you for your time.

_____________________________________________

Author's note: This is a joke. While a charmed happily-ever-after is by no means unappealing, I'm not actually thinking my sister's upcoming nupitals a legitimate impetus for marital connection.

;)
JH

In on a Friday

Listening to children babble, waiting for their breathing to indicate sleep, so I can go upstairs and clean the dishes from their dinner. Spent the morning in similar fashion, baking a pie and walking around the block with a child while it cooled, hand in hand, talking about sidewalks and late-blooming lavendar, sighing in the windy breath of fall as it sent leaves past our ears.

Another hour or two and live bluegrass will be racking my body with a non-negotiable instinct to dance and move to beats and riffs. I'll be one in a crowd, a nameless face, a simple afficionado out for a night's fix of rhythm and social stimulus, albeit with a degree of anonymity.

Later still, in a place quiet enough that ears buzz with sound's absence, I'll have to talk myself out of just...one....more page of someone's fiction, or someone's historical record, whichever way you'll have it, fighting my eyelides for another second of artificially lit morning. Lay it on the floor, face-down-spine-up as I assume the same and the lights go off, except those twinkling through the stained glass to remind me that the city is still there, alive and well, though I sleep.

And tomorrow, I'll be someone's go-to, I'll travel across the face of this valley and back, I'll do this and I'll have done that, and things will be delivered and I will be liberated slowly, painstakingly from the bonds of a weighty to-do list.

Come Sunday, I'll travel to the desert for a week, to become further aquainted with that renegade love for climbing. I've warmed up the musculature, torn the pads from my fingers under the light of halogen bulbs, pressing off molded plastic, fighting gravity. Days in the gym will hopefully lend some grace to the coming days on the rock.

I was made for this. Life. All of it.

Things I love about SL,UT right now.

- The Wasatch range and it's delicious canyons, the smell of sage, texture of scrub oak, and vibrancy of fall color in the maples and aspens.

- The Bombay House/India House/other fantastic Indian restaurants

- The Thai Orchid, especially that one darling waiter who remembers everyone.

- Alta Ski Area, the people who live, work and play there and the job I looking forward to returning to. Oh, and the epic powder.

- The beautiful people and friendships I've come across, learned from, loved deeply and been nourished from. My friends' children, their intelligence, compassion and unique personalities.

- The academic opportunities and atmosphere of having 8 sizeable colleges in one community. Lectures, people, films, readings....

- Ski premieres and the rhythm of the ski culture. I'm particularly impressed with the growing Telemark culture, and the quality of the videos they're producing.

- Climbing outside, inside, urban, and the interesting folks who do it.

- Film festivals in general - the Salt Lake Film society, Sundance, Banff, Wild and Scenic...

- Proximity to Moab and redrock desert, which I could write a comprehensive 'love list' for as well.

- Rocks. Granite, quartz, sandstone, limestone, conglomerate...

- Library system where I can go online, place an order for some obscure item, pick it up a few days later. The stock of foreign films, music and literature in the SLCO lib system is prolific!

- The LDS Church. Say what you will against it, but there is an interesting and well preserved historical culture. The Temple is iconic and lovely, the quarry is impressive. The people of the Church are often musically talented, dedicated to their families, goal oriented, hard working and kind. If you're an inflexible anti, at least you have something well defined and organized to pit your opinions against.

- The religious diversity. Again, say what you will, many don't look at Salt Lake as a diverse place. Salt Lake is home to an Islamic mosque, a Hare Krishna temple, a Buddhist temple, virtually every Christian denomination, and a myriad of other religious communities with loyal, dedicated followers who have strong faith and beautiful things to say about life. Not to mention the incredible architecture and impressive history of some of the buildings here.

- Ballet West. The UMFA. The Utah Symphony. The Opera. Kingsbury Hall, the UofU Modern Dance program, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, the Madeleine Children's Choir, the Eccles Organ Festival, Art Access Gallery...

- The efforts to create efficient public transportation - TRAX, the Frontrunner, UTA bus service.

- Crossroads Urban Center and their initiatives to end hunger, domestic violence, and to promote sustainability and education without restraint.

- Catalyst Magazine and the City Weekly

- Gallivan Center summer concert series

- $2 Ice skating at the Cottonwood Heights Rec center

- The variety of international languages spoken here, which is actually quite staggering thanks to the Universities, immigrants, and missionary program.

- The Icelandic community, the Greek community, the Tongan community, the Hispanic community, the Asian communities...

- Bowling at Sue Rich

- Silent movies at the Organ Loft

- Momos, Chai and Tibetan noodles at beloved Tibetan restaurants.

- The bullseye formation of the 215 loop, I-80 and I-15, and the grid system, all of which make it easy and efficient to get around town.

- Although I'm not really a part of it, yet, I admire the biking community and how often I see people commuting on two wheels. And how much they seem to enjoy it, come together, and throw fun events like warehouse concerts and Critical Mass rides.

- Affordable rent and a relatively healthy economy, all things considered.

- The sheer passion of people here - especially in terms of politics, athletics, spirituality - it seems that the people I meet are motivated to be well informed, to understand, to accomplish the goals of the causes to which they subscribe, to push themselves in the disciplines they pursue. It's so potent that you can't take a back seat here without diluting yourself. It's an inspiring thing, and only sometimes aggravating.

-An International airport

- Proximity to family - I can fly home to Boise in an hour, drive in five.

_____________________________________________
I could go on. Glad to be back.
JH