Happy Holidays...from Montana, Idaho, Washington, Utah, & California

Well, it's Christmas Day. I am at the Ramada Inn outside the Spokane Airport where they graciously let me use their internet even though I am not a guest. I am supposed to be on a plane to Los Angeles right now. That plane was canceled due to technical difficulty with the wing de-icer. From Los Angeles I was going to fly into San Diego to spend time with Maureen, Bobby, my mom, and Bill. Now, I will be flying to Salt Lake City, Utah and from there I will fly into San Diego. Yesterday, I was in Montana at the school with all the kids. Within 24 hours I will have visited five states on my holiday tour. That was not really my intention, but it sounds kind of cool.

Surprisingly, I have kept my cool. I was even dancing a little right after I heard because a song I liked was playing - Buck would have been proud! I remember the first time I had a flight get canceled on me I completely broke down sobbing and could not seem to get it together to even talk to the agent to get a new flight. I was not even going to miss any major event, I just could not handle my world changing on me. Did I mention I was in college when this happened? I was a very high strung girl. Maybe I am keeping my cool because I have lost my voice, so I could not pitch a fit if I wanted to (I got a slight cold and then laryngitis kicked in). Maybe it is because I have been through the experience of having a flight be canceled on Christmas day with debilitating back pain radiating down my leg causing me to limp through the airport drugged up on pain meds (on this occasion I was in Minneapolis and they wanted me to fly to Boston to get a connecting flight to Detroit after already flying in from Hawaii). There have been several other times where a flight was canceled or delayed and I let it ruin my mood, my day, probably even my whole trip. I could pass my relaxed attitude off on experience, or my physical well being right now, but I am not going to.

I find that I have become a more relaxed person. In other words, I think I am growing. I will not attribute it to "growing up," because I saw many "grown-ups" that lost their cool when the flight was canceled. I am simply growing, the direction is irrelevant. I have learned to take things as they come. I can choose how to respond to events in my life. Amor fati, choose your fate, love your fate. Events happen in my life that are out of my control, but that does not mean that my fate is out of my control. I can decide how I will respond and thus determine my fate, and thus love my fate. It is a little scary sometimes because all the responsibility is on me then, I cannot push it off onto fate, or God, or the powers that be. My life, my fate is my own. And right now, I love it. I may not be on my plane, I may not have a voice, I may not be with my family, but I am here. I am alive, I have an amazing job that was hard to leave for a weeks vacation because I will miss it, I live in an awe inspiring area full of beauty, and I am surrounding by love every day. I chose my fate, and I love my fate.

Merry Christmas and thanks for reading - it feels so good to have a voice even if only through the written word at the moment.

Winter is here!

Wahhoooo! I have been up on the mountain the past two days and it has felt so good! Not to mention all the sledding, sorrel soccer, and snow sculptures at school. I do not know the last time I have allowed myself to enjoy winter this much and really go out and play in the snow. Yesterday, was the ski-trip with the kids from school. It was a great day. There was plenty of new snow and the temperature seemed just about right. I really liked spending the time to help some of the kids get the hang of things. I also realized my skinny skis are a little out of date and do not allow me to "float" on the fresh powder. In some ways, I could not have cared less, I just had so much fun hanging out with the kids.


Today I went up for a little cross country skiing and I am feeling it in my muscles already. I brought the right poles and found it to be significantly easier. I owned the downhills, well until the tracks suddenly stopped and I went skidding across the trail. There were bluebird skies and it was incredibly gorgeous. The thought that kept going through my mind was, "I live here..." and having a hard time really comprehending that. I feel unbelievably lucky and more alive than I have in years. Who knew all this could come to pass from a little debilitating back pain and dropping out of my doctorate program??

Skiing

I am scheduled to go on a ski trip with some of the students from school on Thursday. I thought it might be a good idea to warm up my ski legs before then, seeing as it has been six years since I have been on skis. Feeling pretty anxious and very hesitant (to the point of driving all the way around the roundabout at the top of the mountain and beginning to head back down), I called my dad for a pep talk. I remember him being my faithful ski instructor as a kid, I know he would have some words of wisdom. He first asked if anyone was going with me. When I told him no, because I did not want to be embarrassed at my lack of skill. He made a comment about how if I did bring a friend it would be a sure way to lose them. He began to tell me of the last time he took me skiing, several years ago. Apparently, I fell down and he went over to help me up. The conversation (if you can call it that) went something like this:

D: Do you need some help, Sweetheart?

Erin: I hate this! And I hate you!

Dad: What's wrong, are you ok? (moves closer)

Erin: Get away from me!!

Dad: Ok, do you want me to just ski down the hill and leave you here?

Erin: Noooo! Don't you leave me here!

Dad: Ok, what can I do to help?

Erin: Shut up! Don't talk to me!

Dad: Ok, then I'm going to go.

Erin: Don't leave me here!!!

Dad: What do you want me to do then?

Erin: I told you to shut up!!!

After my conversation with him I started to make more sense of my skiing anxiety, I do not think it is a sport that came very naturally to me. However, today went fairly well. I hopped on the bunny hill and was amazed at my carving skills. Not one snow plow. The highlight of my bunny hill experience was riding the chairlift with a four-year old boy who had "Please hold onto me on the chairlift. I am only 4. I fell off the chairlift before." taped onto his helmet. His name was Jackson and he was so cute. As I went down the hill practicing my turns I was slightly embarrassed to realize the little guy had beat me down the hill, but that is only because I was working on my technique, right?

I started to get pretty confident in myself and headed up the mountain for a blue run. As I started getting higher in elevation the visibility began to lessen until I could only see several yards in front of me. The dread returned. As I got off the lift and stared down a hill I could not see what I was getting myself into, except for the fact that it dropped steeply in elevation, I asked myself what in the world I was thinking! To my surprise, I made it down the hill without falling and without any major panic attacks. Somehow, someway, skiing is ingrained in my body. My legs always seem to know what to do as my body weight shifts from side to side. I think I had a good teacher growing up. You could have left me on that hill years ago, but you didn't. Thanks, Dad.

Getting Back on the Horse

I made a commitment to get out of my "Buck funk" last weekend. It worked. I had spent quite a few weekends moping around my apartment spending a lot of time on the couch. I knew it needed to end. I knew I needed to bring some new energy into my life. My weekend started out great by going to see "Into the Wild" with my friend Laurah. It was a great film based off of the book by John Krakauer and I highly recommend it. Afterwards, I ran into some friends at Eichardts, and even made a few new ones.

On Friday, I ventured out cross-country skiing at Schweitzer's and was brutally reminded that there are mountains in Idaho. Cross-country skiing takes on a whole new meaning when one moves from Michigan to Idaho. There are hills on the trail, large ones. Needless to say, I came home with a large, swollen lump on my butt from repeatedly choosing to "sit down" instead of losing complete control. The second time I was sitting on the very hard, icy snow in my thin polypro, I was on the verge of getting mad at the world for my disheartening cross-country skiing experience. I thought of my puppy. He would have given me the "why are you sitting on the ground, we have a lot of exploring to do" head tilt. I would have laughed. So, I smiled, got up off my rump and continued on down the trail. When I elected to sit down once more, I even laughed out loud at the big city girl sitting in the snow in the middle of north Idaho. I also struggled significantly on the uphills, which I attributed to my lack of experience....I later figured out it was because I was using my alpine ski poles. Whoops!

On Friday night, I had dinner with friends and then we all went to hear a coworker belt out a little bluegrass at a local open mic night. On Saturday, I got up early and went and swam laps at the fitness center. It felt sooooo good to get back in the water. Erik and Kendra picked me up in the afternoon and we spent the day in Couer d' Alene hitting all the hot spots such as Costco, Michaels, and Lowes. Wherever I go, I somehow always find a married couple to adopt me as their single friend to tag along on roadtrips... I picked up a little tree at Lowes and came home and decorated it. Perhaps, in the spring it will find a home in my yard. On Sunday morning, I went out walking to the longbridge was once again awed that I live in such beautiful place. It never ceases to amaze me that this is my home! With music playing in my ears, I started dancing on the sand and knew my heart was alive.

Water Smooths Rough Edges

My aunt who lives in Moscow, Idaho came to visit over Thanksgiving. She also brought her dog, Gus, a husky-yellow lab mix who fills out with this incredibly, gushy, soft, thick coat come winter. His eyes are soulful and soft. He moves slow and sometimes it feels like he can read what I am feeling. I often got the impression he was looking at me and his eyes just said, "You're missing something, aren't you?" Gus stayed home on Thanksgiving and Nancy came over to the school, saw the campus, and ate dinner with all the kids. Afterwards, on our way home we stopped in Clarkfork to visit my friends Erik and Kendra and made room for a second round of pie. I continued my favorite Thanksgiving tradition and we all played Cranium (Speaking of, I hope the Pogacich family Thanksgiving did not let that slide this year with my absence. I would be very disappointed!)

The next day we had a movie marathon. It felt great to slow down, but it was hard at times. I kept looking for, aching, and missing Buck. He would have loved the walk we went on. It was his favorite place to go. I bet he even would have gone swimming in the ridiculously cold water. I do not know how many times I imagined him running around the corner, his shaggy hair flying flat around his face and that sappy grin he always seemed to have. As I have mentioned previously the water level has dropped in the lake, and it was mesmerizing for me to see a different landscape of rocks and driftwood laid out before me. On the way back, I started walking along the water's edge, punching through the thin puddles of ice in the sand with the tip of my red boots. I began to notice all the driftwood collected on the sand. I could not stop looking at it. There were pieces of all shapes and sizes; long sticks, little knobby knots of wood, larger, thicker logs, teeny little pieces - but all of it was incredibly smooth. Something about it just moved me. It seemed too simple; water smooths rough edges.

I thought of Buck, I thought of myself, I thought of the water, and I thought of my dad. I have known for a couple of years now that being on, or just being near water rejuvenates me. I know I got that from my dad. He speaks of moments where he needs "time on the water" to center himself when he finds himself getting short with people, or just feeling in a funk. For me, water is soothing, and it also smooths out my rough edges. I relax, I breathe and I feel myself take on the quality of the water. Waves give me energy and a light heart, whereas flat, calm water turns me inward and contemplative. I have this sense that Buck needed water, too. As a stray, and with his flamboyant personality there were definitely some rough edges that needed smoothing with him. He loved his walks around town, but when we would drive towards the lake he would whine from anticipation. Water meant something to him. On our first playdate we went to a beach, and as I walked into the water to show him it was safe, he tucked himself right behind me and would only go as far as I would go. Once I swam, and let my feet leave the bottom, he swam, and then there was no looking back.

As I am writing, I am aware that I am not sure if I have a point to this post. I keep going back to all that smooth, but strong driftwood. It seems to be so much more than just sticks and hunks of wood. I feel close to Buck when I think of it. In this strange way he is one of those pieces, and I know I am, too. As I led him into the water, without hesitation on our first day together, to my place of peace and love, I let him into my world. I let him into my heart. That is something I have not done in years. Maybe Buck and I both needed to soften up a little, to feel a little love, but maybe it is not one another we were meant to love. Maybe we were not meant to drift to the same shore together.

Snow!

I love it when it snows for the first time, especially when it snows so much it leaves everything covered in white. I cannot help but see it as a new beginning, everything is white and innocent. It started snowing last night and had not stopped when I went to bed. There is also something ridiculously exciting about seeing the first snow fall in a new place. It is as if Sandpoint has transformed itself right before my eyes, changed its clothes, or dressed up in a costume - a beautiful costume. I had dinner and drink plans with my neighbor and I ran almost the whole way to his house. I was just so excited about the snow. When we walked out of the pub it seemed only natural to start a snowball fight. When it comes to throwing anything my aim is about as good as my ability to match a tone when singing. It was a painful loss, but I played dirty and tied it up by saving a little snow in my hand and whitewashing his face once we got back in the car. It was a great way to get me laughing and smiling. I know I needed it. I cried almost the whole way home from work as I realized that the grown-up, rational part of me has dealt with Buck's absence admirably and with grace, but the little girl part of me did not understand any of this and just wanted her puppy home. As much as I learn about myself, my emotions, and how to express them "appropriately," I think there still comes a time when I just need to cry and let all the junk out. I went for a walk this morning, or I attempted to walk this morning but the ground was so slippery I decided to just go play in the snow. When I started slipping and sliding all over the sidewalk I started to laugh out loud at myself. I immediately thought of Buck. It would have been great to have him with me today sliding all over the sidewalk as well. A perma-grin stuck to my face as I walked home knowing that Buck was going to be with me the rest of my life regardless if he came home or not - he taught me to laugh at myself and all the little things in life that used to frustrate me. When I got back to my little house I went in the backyard and made my first Idaho snow angel. Snow!

Another Lesson

On my drive home tonight I passed a truck on the side of the road that had blinking lights on it and there were men doing something in the ditch. My first thought, as morbid as it is, was that they were scooping Buck up off the side of the road. Let me explain this by saying that one of the tips I read in "How to Find Your Lost Dog" was to call the area's department of transportation daily to see if the dog had been killed on the side of the road. I also search the side of the roads as I am driving. I do not want to believe he is on the side of the road, but if he is I want to know. He could also be there barely breathing waiting for me to scoop him and get him to a veterinarian. This is only one of the many scenarios that has played through my mind the last few days. I have gone through them all: mountain lions, wolves, a nice family taking him in as their own, him joining up with a coyote in eternal neutered bliss, losing his collar and ending up in a shelter that does not scan for microchips. I imagine him shivering, lost, and scared running across highways. I think about where he sleeps, or if he even sleeps. I think about if he is eating and thank myself and Erik and Kendra for all those times we fed him more than the recommended two cups a day. I imagine his cuddly coat keeping him warm as he curls up in some grass or maybe an abandoned barn. I think of how much build-up there is in ears now that I have not cleaned them for days. I imagine rolling him over onto his back and rubbing his tummy as I cradle him between my legs; his whole body goes limp as he completely relaxes and slows down from the excitement of me seeing me. I wonder if he is aching for me as I ache for him.

Now that you know what runs my thoughts as I drive and interrupts my attempts to distract myself all day long, I'll share the most recent lesson I have learned from this experience. I called my mom as soon as it hit me. You may have guessed by now. I called her and began to apologize for all the times I was out past my curfew, or drove across the state when I was only 16 and forgot to call her when I had arrived. I apologized for all the times I made fun of her for worrying. I apologized for all the times I said I would call when I got there, and never did. I told her I got it. I do. I now know what it is like to hate the morbid thoughts that enter my head. I know what it is like to jump at every phone call that comes from a number I do not recognize. I feel my heart quicken when I check my messages and hear I have a new voicemail. I have cursed him and loved him more than ever in the same moment.

I think almost every girl talks about how she will never be like her mother when she grows up one day. Whether I was happy about it or not, I think in some ways I have always known I will grow up to be like my mother. I am ok with that. I am proud to grow up and be like her someday. I am proud that I have learned to love with all my heart, and know that with that sometimes comes worrying with all my heart. I am proud to be my mother's daughter.

My Puppy

Buck is missing. He went hiking in the mountains in Montana with one of my coworkers and his dogs. His dog and Buck ran off after something/one another. An hour later his dog came back and Buck never did. He searched for hours and called and called. He picked me up from work and we searched for another 2 hours. This was Wednesday night. He had Thursday morning off work and went out again. No luck. I went out there today with a coworker and hiked the whole trail calling for my boy. No luck. I told as many people as possible about him and I am getting some fliers made up as we speak to post in the area. He also has a microchip in the event that he loses his collar he can be scanned to retrieve my phone number. I am dealing with this better than I was earlier. I feel better having done so much for him today and my Ginas have been incredibly supportive.

Yesterday I just broke down as I was leaving work because I did not want to go home to an empty house. I found so much support from my colleagues and the kids at the school. I wanted to hold this all in, but everyone at work knew and the kids were hugging me all day. I can see the mountains he is lost in from work and I just kept imaging him up there. I just kept alternating between distracting myself to a point of "being fine" and then crying when the truth snuck up. I know I have only had him for a bit, but he has just been my constant companion here. He is there when I come out of the shower, he comes into the bathroom when I pee and lies down on the bathmat, he wakes me up in the morning if I do not get out of bed when my alarm goes off. He tries to cuddle with me when we're in the car. If I sit on the floor and watch tv he lays his head on me. I can see so many lessons in this, and I am grateful for learning them, but I want him back. I know I have kept myself away from intimate relationships because I do not want to feel the pain if the relationship did not work out, but as I sit here and ask myself if this pain right now is worth the joy Buck brought my life, I know it is. I know in some ways these things are not comparable, but what I'm speaking about is loss. Loving like you have never been hurt. I know losing him has made me more vulnerable at work. If this had not happened at work I know I would have tried to go through my day like nothing was wrong and told people I was tired if they asked what was wrong. Having so many kids come up and hug me, just silently hug me was so good for me. I never want people to see me sad, to see me vulnerable, but all those hugs today felt so good. Repeatedly going to that space of pain in front of people was worth it for all the support it brought. So now I am asking for your support. Even if you just say a prayer, or do whatever you do, put positive thoughts in the universe. He craves love so much I still believe the little rascal might come home.

My Drive

At night my drive from Heron, Montana to Sandpoint, Idaho is like driving through a river gorge. Shadows loom around me. The mountainside rises along the side of the road and as the moonlight illuminates the rock-face I swear for a moment I am once again rafting on the Salmon River through Idaho watching the world carve out before me. There was a time the moonlight was so bright as it flickered through the trees alongside the road, and my eyes were so tired from a long day of my own emotional growth with the kids I was desperately trying to find the disco ball that could create so much light in complete darkness. There are times as I've made the drive late at night that I feel like I am driving through black jello. The blackness is unlike any other I have experienced before. It is only I that create light. When I step on the brakes, my rear window brake light almost startles me as it pierces the darkness. The darkness is a blanket that cloaks my car, and carries me home safely.

On the morning drives into Heron I am amazed by the undeniable beauty that spreads before me. The mountains take on this unbelievable purple hue as the sun rises, softened with translucent clouds and mist that sit just above the ground. The frost on the wheat fields sparkles like diamond encrusted blades of grass. The peaks of the mountains are hidden by the low lying clouds and fog and I try to convince myself that maybe, just maybe the mountains never end, they just go on forever beyond those clouds. There is also a quiet that is filled with peace and the slow, warm movements of morning and awakening.

Driving home in the early evening, I watch amazing sunsets on the lake across the mountains. Oranges, purples, blues - where do I begin? The numerous pine trees all turn black as they become silhouetted against the luminescent sky. The mountain peaks begin to reflect in the lake at just the right time and it is as if this hidden door to a world of amazing natural beauty is opened up. And oh, if there was a way to walk across that reflection into the mountains, into the beauty then that world would be one of eternal sunsets.

Fall in Idaho

Woah, where have I been for 20 days??? I just realized my last post was on the 5th of October, and now October is almost past! So what have I been doing?? Well, I got sick for about a week and thoroughly enjoyed taking the time to slow down and get healthy. I always love a great excuse to sit around, drink buckets of tea, eat soup, and watch movies. I've also been spending more time with co-workers outside of work, which is great, but our conversations always end up back about work and the kids! We are thinking about putting a time limit on work talk...

Buck is still my best bud. My favorite place to take him is Pend Oreille Bay. The trail starts near the train station. It's a large gravel path that runs north along the lake with a couple yards of trees and foliage between the trail and water that acts as a great wind barrier, but is thin enough for Buck to run through to repeatedly "check on the water." It is a great place for me to take him and let him off the leash. The other day I decided to take him there in the morning before work on one of my late start days. Never again. As I sat on the dock with my feet dangling over the water after we had walked 80% of the trail and we were about 5 minutes from the car he decided to go swimming, completely submerged swimming. I am also convinced he attempted to push me in as he came running out the water, ran to the dock, shook himself all over me, and then leaned up against my back with all his weight. If it was not for the ladder I grabbed onto I would have ended up in the water. I took my wet dog in my car, where he proceeded to jump into the front seat and then home where I had no time to take care of him as I had to get ready for work. I think it was our first fight.

Today it was one of those gorgeous fall days with a brilliant blue sky, crisp air, and a golden landscape. Buck and went hiking on the Mickinnick Trail that offers great views of Sandpoint, Lake Pend Oreille, the Pend Oreille River and the Cabinet Mountains (which the school is nestled in!). Buck is so cute. He has learned to recognize the signs that mean we are driving somewhere to go hiking or walking and he gets so excited he starts whining and whimpering in the back of the car. As we reached the end of the trail there were little bits of frozen ground and I can just imagine in a couple of weeks if I were to do this hike again there would be snow the last mile or so.

For those of you who knows that my sister lives north of San Diego, she was evacuated for a few days because of the fires, but she and Bobby are home safe now, thank goodness. I am off to attempt to make pear butter with pears I got from a neighbor. I will add new pictures to the album later tonight or tomorrow so check 'em out!

Empathy

Each evening the students have a "last light." Most simply put, it is a time when the school comes together to wind down for the evening. All the tables are moved out of the living room and we sit on couches or against one another with pillows everywhere and in between everyone. Sometimes it is lead by staff, or a group of students, and sometimes just one student. There might be music played, or a book read, perhaps someone shares from their life story, or we reflect on past events.

There was a recent last light that really moved me. A student shared about a close friend who was killed in gang violence a year ago. Initially, the feelings came for me when many of the students began to share about the loss of friends from similar situations. It reminded me that there are many levels to what brings these kids here. In memory, Johnny Cash's cover of the song 'Hurt' was played (I did some research and found it was originally written by Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails.). The lyrics, the somber nature of Cash's voice, and sitting close with those hurting children I began to feel a connection with the ambiguous pain that has lead so many not only to drugs, but all the forms of self-destruction that we as a people engage in. This link will take you to a video of the song, and I encourage you to hear the song. The lyrics alone, do not do it justice. Cash's enunciation of the words, and the intonation of his voice elicit his raw self-hatred. I will warn you, it is not a pick-me-up, but for me it was an awakening, and understanding of a world I do not live in.

Hearing this song marked a clear moment of transition from sympathy to empathy in my job. In the last month I have found ways to relate to the students, I feel I have heard their pain, understood it, related it in my mind to parallel life experiences, but not been able to step into it, unable to feel it. That night I did. We all have forms of dysfunction in how we deal with life, no one is perfect. Mine is, and was, throughout my adolescence much different than many of the students I work with. Because of this, in some ways it has been hard to connect. It is in these moments, through the open sharing, songs, and stories that I begin to understand.

Snow in Sandpoint??!

I just checked the weather for the week and snow is predicted to mix in with the rain showers on Friday! I was ok with seeing it on the mountains, but wow, snow in October?? Get ready...

Snow on the Mountains

When I was driving home yesterday I saw snow on the mountains. It was so amazing to see. I felt so small, and yet so safe down in the foothills. I really felt connected to the land watching it so evidently change before me.

I have been busy. Two weeks ago I spent a weekend in Moscow with my aunt, Nancy. That is where this picture is from. Wheat fields border her land. The way they spread out for what seems like eternity is very peaceful. Spending time with her is rejuvenating. Buck endlessly played and ran with her new puppy Harry, and Gus the older dog barked and tried his best to join in on the puppy play. Buck slept outside, but was quick to find the door closest to where I was sleeping and made me a happy mom as he slept right next to it. Driving home I saw the most amazing sunset over the hills of the Palouse. It started off mild with pastel purples and pinks and then turned into deep oranges and red against the blackening night sky. Search Google images with 'Palouse' and you will get the idea.

I think most of all, Buck as been keeping me busy. I think everyone should get a dog before they even think about becoming a parent. Yesterday, during our morning walk off campus before breakfast with the students (we had both spent the night in the staff lodging) Buck decided deer were exciting enough not just to look at, but that they needed to be chased as well. He has always stayed by my side walking (even without a leash), so it took me by surprise when he took off, with only a moments hesitation and glance when I called him back to me. I continued on the walk, hoping he would join. He never did. I wanted to be angry, and there was a part of me that wanted to be sad, but I knew there was no point. Work was starting, and if he could chase deer, he could find his way back. I sat down for breakfast, and just as I got my food I heard over the radio that he was running around campus. I went outside, called him a few times, and he came running from the soccer fields. He was one mangy looking dog. Wet, muddy, and full of burrs. I praised him for coming, and with no other timely option, put him in the car.

At the end of the day I was welcomed by the smell of wet dog as I entered my car and was delighted to see that he had shaken his coat dry, spraying little drops of mud all over the place. I started driving home and did not remove my bag from the front seat (which is the cue that he can come up there). He was insistent and crawled up there, and laid himself down on top of my bag. Once again, I wanted to be angry and shove him into the backseat on his blanket, but as I looked at him with burrs all over, his fur all stringy, and those puppy eyes I could only laugh. I am laughing just writing this. I took him home, bathed him (another adventure), and cleaned my car. While I was cleaning the car he was trying to rip burrs out of his leg hair. He either got burrs or a hairball, or both stuck in his throat and proceeded to walk around the house making hacking noises. He then made this horribly loud noise (so loud the person on the phone with me heard it!) and threw up his dinner. He did this about three more times before we retired for the evening.

Believe it or not, I still love my dog.

Exploring Montana

One of my fellow co-workers asked if I would like to take a day trip to Kootenai Falls and a 500 year old grove of trees. Naturally, I jumped at the chance as I have been a little hesitant to go exploring far from Sandpoint on my own. We met at school and then Buck, Tom, and I headed out into Montana. After driving through endless miles of breathtaking mountainous landscape we arrived at the protected grove of trees. As we hiked around, under, and over the trees we started sharing bits and pieces of our life stories and the journey that lead us to Monarch. It did not take Tom and I long to realize we had quite a bit in common. We were both raised Roman Catholic with members of our families spending some time in the seminary and convent. We both had mood disorders marbling through our family history. We both had siblings with bipolar disorder and experience some sort of mood fluctuation ourselves. We started sharing books that made an impact in our life and talked about our experiences in relationships and our challenges with trust. We had stopped paying attention to where we were hiking and were pretty deep in the forest when Buck stopped leading us and motionlessly stared in front of us with his head cocked. He would go no further. Not ready for my first Montana wildlife encounter (i.e. bears), we heeded Buck's warning and turned back.

We grabbed a quick bite to eat in Troy, Montana and then headed to Kootenai Falls. The hike to falls was short, but included a bridge that passed over the railroad tracks and sure enough we experienced a train rushing past as we were a mere couple yards above it. Buck was not amused and had a lot of trouble with the open steps where he could see the ground below him. The water at the falls and through the river was this unbelievable aqua green and the rust colored rocks beneath the water made the most amazing contrast. It reminded me of the Caribbean Sea flowing through the Grand Canyon. The pictures do not do it justice. We sat for awhile at the falls and enjoyed the warm of the Indian Summer sun.

We continued to hike towards the Swinging Bridge, a suspension bridge that crosses the Kootenai River just below the falls. We encountered more open steps. Buck really struggled. At one point he crawled up about two steps and then stuck his head under one of the steps and would not budge. I felt horrible, but at the same time could not help laughing as he looked like a turtle. Tom decided to stay with him and I crossed the bridge. About halfway through I started to feel the sway and the old familiar fear of falling kicked in. All I had to do was look around me to realize how many beautiful things there were to distract me from a little swinging. I laughed to myself as I felt a little like Indiana Jones. Once I reached the other side and turned around I was surprised to see Buck at the top of the steps. It seems he just needed to make the climb on his own time, and terms (maybe he learned that one from his mom). I called his name as I got closer and he eventually crossed the whole bridge with me. I was so proud of my little pup for facing his fears. I also realized as I supported him through his fears, my own melted away. Something about being a parent I'm sure...

It was a great day for all of us. Fears were faced, doors were opened, and stories shared.

Running Towards

I am not exactly sure how many times I have been asked some variation of the question, "Wow, Michigan, so what were you running away from to come all the way to Idaho?" It is not only since I've been here that people have asked that, but also as I was preparing to leave Michigan those that did not know me well would ask that same question. I always found it troubling. I never felt like I was running. As I told a fellow therapist about this he was quick to suggest projection. It made sense seeing as there may be many people here that did run away to Idaho to escape something or someone. I however, did not ever feel like I was running. In fact, by strict orders from my physical therapist I have not ran, or jogged in long time, and it will not be happening anytime soon because it's pretty evident that it brings on radiating leg pain (thanks Erick!).

What came to me today was the thought that my only choice in this question is "running away." What about walking away? Or even better, what about running (or a brisk walk in my case...) towards. I decided to make them options and re-evaluate. I did not take me long to think of all the things I walked away from. I walked away from a lot of family and very close friends that live in Michigan and most likely will for a long time. I walked away from my back pain and everything that I had learned to associate it with. I walked away from my doctorate program. I walked away from a very promising position as a private practice clinician in a great clinic. I also walked away from a job in which I would spend most of my time sitting. In essence, I feel I walked away from what was leading to a very "comfortable" life. The odd thing was that the comfort scared me. I realized I was not ready to get comfortable. I wanted to try something new and I wanted to be more active in my job; I needed to be more active in my job.

What then did I run towards? I ran towards a place that when I first set eyes on it I was moved by its majestic beauty. I ran towards a job where my primary responsibility is to create a safe and loving space for 70 kids to grow and learn to feel their emotions. I ran towards a job where I have lost track of the number times my supervisor has said, "I want you to know how happy I am that you are here and a part of our staff. I don't think I can say that enough." I ran out on a shaky limb knowing that that is where the fruit is. I ran towards an aunt I always wished I knew better as I was amazed at our similarities. I ran towards my puppy, Buck. I ran towards the great outdoors. I ran towards the challenge of opening up and being vulnerable in order to make new friends. I ran towards the hope of inner peace.

At lunch on Wednesdays we have 20 minutes of silence to slow down, and reflect on what we are thankful for. All other meals we have about 30 seconds of silence. As the silence hits me and I ask myself what I am thankful for, without fail my inner voice says, "I am thankful to be here." As I thought about that on my scenic drive home one day, tears came to my eyes. I realized the "here" I was speaking of was not just work, or Montana, or even Idaho. I was speaking of being present in the "here and now" and not wishing I were someplace else. I was speaking of being thankful to be here, amongst the living in mind and body. In the last year I spent many days lost in the land of pain and pain medication wishing to be somewhere, and someone else. I am incredibly thankful to be here, now.

In short, I believe I ran towards being. I know this is a lot heavier than my previous posts, but I was feeling the need to clarify, for myself, and I guess whoever is reading.

"Forward, forward, let us not disappoint the moon before us."

Living the Dream

Well, I started work. Maybe you could tell by the fact that I have not posted in awhile. Work is...great. My sister once told me a story of a time when she was struggling with life and a doctor asked her what she wanted, or what what would make her happy, something like that. She told him that she wanted to want to get out of bed in the morning, she wanted to be happy to start her day and wake-up. As her story goes, this doctor kind of laughed, became patronizing and said something along the lines of, "Oh, Maureen, no one wants to get out of bed in the morning, we just do." My sister disagreed, and she persevered. I feel as if I have found a space in my life where I want to get out of bed in the morning. I enjoy the drive in as my time to relax, and straighten out my heart and mind before entering the world of 70 struggling, and hurting young adults. My drive into work is long, but it is so beautiful. I have turned corners and seen the lake stretched before me, or watched the mountains grow alongside me with the rising sun coloring the sky and felt tears well up in my eyes. Is this really my home? Is this really happening or am I just dreaming?

So what do I do at work? Well, first of all I am working at a therapeutic/wilderness boarding school for teenagers that are not making it at home. There are 70 students aged 14-18 and they have all attended and graduated from a therapeutic wilderness program. Follow this link to see an example. They have issues ranging from drug & alcohol abuse, to promiscuity, to aggression & anger, to skipping school with underlying problems of depression, low self-esteem, and anxiety. I am training to become a Peer Group Leader which means that I will be advising a group of students through their 18 month stay. I will talk with their parents, write a newsletter about their activities, process issues that arise, monitor and discuss their emotional growth and academic performance, and run group therapy sessions with students throughout the school. A large part of my job will also be forming a safe, secure, and healthy relationship with the students in my group, as well as all of the students on campus.

My main responsibility for the first few weeks is to form relationships and get to know the students. I've played beach volleyball three times this week! It's been great, it has also been a great way to start to get to understand the personalities of different students. We also have "work crews" which is a vocational aspect of the program in which we do work around campus. There are several crews: culinary, farm, construction, landscaping, garden, and forestry. I was on forestry and got to help build a bridge on a trail through campus. We were using axes and hatchets - it is such a great educational experience for these kids (and for me!).

Wow, there is so much more that I could write, but I think that this enough for now. The best thing about work is all the love I feel just being on campus. I did dorm checks last night and I completely lost track of time just talking with the girls as I said goodnight. I know it has only been the first week, but I am really happy to be working there. Buck is not as happy now that I am not his constant playmate, but thanks to a friend's recommendation (a new Sandpoint friend even!) to get a Kong, he is keeping occupied and not causing trouble. Dog-owners, if you have not heard of these, check them out. They are also a lifesaver if you just want some time away from your canine shadow. I have also been good about walking him before and after work, even if only 15 minutes. Good for him, even better for me! On Sunday he's going to have his trial day at work to see if he behaves. The students are really excited to meet him!

Next post I'll tell you about the northern Idaho version of a traffic jam...

Gold Hill Trail

Today has been a lazy day. I spent all morning waiting the for cable guy to hook-up my internet and as a result got glued to the tv and Cesar Milan's show "The Dog Whisperer." There was a dog who was obsessed with rocks! After the cable guy left I swore I was going to go enjoy the day, but then I got glued to my laptop and being reconnected to the internet. Now it's raining...

I'm also a little worn out from the hike I did yesterday on the Gold Hill trail. It was significantly longer than the other hike with a gain in elevation of about 1200 feet. The view was amazing. It was awesome to see the Long Bridge, Lake Pend Oreille and Sandpoint from above. We got a early start to avoid the heat of the day, which also means we had the trail to ourselves most of the way. That was nice, as Buck could be off his leash, except that I started to imagine scenarios where I was attacked by a Grizzly Bear or Black Bear and Buck had to run for help just like Lassie. At the end of the trail we cooled off with a dip in Bottle Bay.

A few nights ago I met some locals at Eichardts downtown. I received great recommendations about trails, places in town, nearby places to visit and possibly even a friend to help me repair my chronically difficult bike.

Here is a link to some more pictures of the trip out here and the area. There is a cool map feature I used that will show you where the pictures were taken! http://picasaweb.google.com/eknugent/WelcomeToIdaho

Mineral Point

At the Ranger’s Station I received a great packet full of different trails in the area. I decided to try an easy 4 mile hike with Buck. I can barely remember the last time I went hiking, and I was not sure how Buck would behave on the trails. I set out for Sagle, which is about 5 miles south of Sandpoint. Between the winding back-roads, my driving, and the poor shocks in the back of my car Buck got carsick. I did not realize this until we got to the trail head (after being lost for about 20 minutes), but I do remember at some point during the drive wondering why this part of the county smelled like dog food. Thankfully, I have a blanket on the backseat for him and it was easily cleaned up.

While on the trail I was constantly wondering how to describe what it was like to hike with Buck. The best analogy I came up with was a car. The dog simply has no cruise control. He is one of those cars that trails behind you, but does not pass you. If you move to let him pass, he cruises by, but then slows down to a crawl, or better yet, stops completely. I do not know how many times I ran into him, or he stepped on the back of my sandals. The positive side to it all was that I could let him off leash, and he stayed close by.

Visually, the trail was stunning. I kept coming around corners to see a view of Lake Pend Oreille stretching before the Monarch Mountains (I think). The trail led us to Garfield Bay and a very sparsely populated stone beach. There were only four other people that I spotted. The water was crystal clear, and refreshingly cool. Buck was in heaven. There were not a lot of waves and as a result he was much more comfortable going in the water. I started throwing him his ball, but he kept bringing it back to me (like a good boy!), but then he would shake his coat right next to me. I started throwing sticks and driftwood which lead him to create a little stock pile behind me as I kept grabbing new ones to throw.

On the hike back Buck had a surge of energy from cooling off in the water and was a much better hiking partner. He ran ahead, stopped, ran back to me, ran ahead, stopped and waited for me, ran behind me, and ran ahead of me the whole way back to the trail head. Good thing was that if I called him to me, he gladly came. Overall it was a good trip. No pain for me, Buck behaved, and some gorgeous pictures. I am going to miss this once works starts!

Meet Buck

Many of you know I was planning on getting a dog once I moved out here. Well, it didn't take me long. On Thursday I had a "play-date" with Buck and on Friday I took the little rascal home. He is...just great. I do not think I could have described a better dog. He's at home in the backyard alone for the first time right now. I can't stop thinking about him! Do you think he's lonely? I know he is.

He is a bearded collie - terrier mix. He's 10 months old. He was a stray at a "kill-shelter" that no one came to claim. A woman who runs a Second Chance Pet Rescue snapped him before his time and cleaned him up. His coat was mangled with fleas and he could barely see through the mess of hair that covered his eyes. He was rough and wild when she got him, but through the Cesar Millan method she had him behaving within a week!

He rarely tugs on the leash when we walk, and if he does, I lightly tug back and he heels without me saying a word. He has such a desire to please me and be loved. Oh, does he want to be loved. The little guy cannot get enough of it! If I sit on the floor he sprawls into my lap and rolls over so I can rub his belly. He also does not bark, unless I leave him in his crate when I leave the house. He follows me everywhere! I had to set the limit on the shower - but it's good to know it may be easy to get him in there to get cleaned up! I walk him down to the lake to play fetch, or on one of the many bike/pedestrian trails around here. We also took a trip to one of the state parks.

I also took him to the farmer's market on Saturday where I got homemade jam and fresh peaches. He stayed next to me and let everyone pet him without jumping up. He was just happy to be included. I ran into my new boss and new supervisor while I was down there and if he behaves he is allowed on the campus with me - so cross your fingers.

There was so much I was thinking about writing, but now that I'm finally at the internet cafe and writing about Buck, all I want to do is go back home to him! We're going to walk over to the ranger's station when I get home (about a mile from my house) to get some information on hiking in the area - maybe Schweitzer's?

"there's no place like home..."

I made it!! The drive was pretty uneventful. I remember the stories we heard better than the landscape! We brought a couple of books on CD with us and as a result the majority of the time we were lost in other worlds. Illinois, Minnesota and North Dakota had us navigating the Canary Islands as an oceanographer searching for a buried city with two dolphins named Pete and Susie. While driving through the other half of North Dakota and the beginning of Montana we were lost in northern New Hampshire listening to a family grow through loss and grief. We are still finishing the last book, "The Kite Runner," that took us through Montana and into Idaho. I read it last summer, but my mom and Bill are on their first go-around and find it "spellbinding." After dinner we've spent our evenings here in Sandpoint listening the book from my laptop. It feels like we're in the 1930's sitting around an old radio waiting for the next chapter and what will come next. Honestly, it's kind of fun.

Right after pulling into town on Sunday we went driving around in the rain and snooped in all the windows and yards of the places I was lined up to see on Monday with the rental agency. The one I was crossing my fingers for looked great. It even had a fenced in yard for my potential new pup. My appointment was at 1:00 p.m. on Monday afternoon and by 1:50 p.m. my lease was signed, with approval from the landlord to have a dog. ABF Moving did a fantastic job and my trailer full of material possessions looked exactly as I had packed it and was sitting in front of my little cottage waiting to be unloaded. I recommend them to anyone making a long distance move. It's about the same rental price as U-Haul, but they pay for gas and do all the driving. Considering the mountain passes we were driving through - the small difference more than paid for itself. Almost everything is unpacked now and we're thinking about grilling in the backyard tonight on the Webber grill my dad snapped-up for me right before I left Royal Oak. In all honesty, it's going to be more of Grilling 101 session. I have a few things to learn.

Sandpoint...is everything I remember it being from my interview visit. I know it's only been a few days, but there is this calmness that overcomes me being in this part of the country. I now understand why they call the area of Montana close to here God's Country. In the mornings I've been walking to the Long Bridge that spans Lake Pend Oreille and I cannot even find the words to begin to describe it. My instinct is to say that it is "breathtaking," but the feeling is more the opposite in that I want to breathe deeply and somehow take into my body all the beauty that's before me. My mom compares this view with that of Lake Zurich in Switzerland. I think the view seemed the most idyllic to me when the coal train started chugging by us on the other bridge spanning the lake. It somehow all seemed too beautiful to be real. Pictures are forthcoming.

I did not realize I would write so much! There is grocery shopping and unpacking that needs to be done. But what I am really looking forward to is wiping my feet on my new doormat with two ruby red slippers on it that reads, "There's no place like home."

a celestial event of cosmic debris

Some people have to remind themselves to stop and smell the roses. I literally stop to smell the roses quite often, sometimes maybe too much. Perhaps a reminder more suiting for me might be to stop to watch the shooting stars. My little cousin was talking about the meteor shower throughout the night as we were eating the best popcorn ever and watching a cute romantic comedy. She and my aunt were going outside to take a look and even though I was thinking how every meteor shower is the same and that I really wanted to go home and start the last Harry Potter book my cousin just gave me, I decided to go take a look, too. We laid down on the deck all snuggled up in blankets and staring up at the sky. I started to think of the other meteor showers I had taken the time to watch in my life. They all seemed to be surrounded by the theme, or idea of slowing down and taking the time to actually live my life, to suck all of the marrow out of it, if you will. It seemed to be a fitting reminder as I am getting ready to embark on the next big journey of my life. I know it will be tempting to rush into my new world to try and make it everything I am expecting, but what if I could just slow down and let it show me everything it has to offer me first?

I've been thinking for days how to write this first entry. I guess it's done now. It wasn't that hard, but I'm still gnawing over how I am going to describe the experience of this past week as I said my goodbyes. There are all these crazy metaphors running through my mind, but it has been hard to give clear, concise words to it. Maybe tomorrow, or maybe a metaphor will just have to do.