Late Bloomers

My favorite moments in life are those of serendipity. You know the ones--where you've carefully made plans & life surprises you with what seems like a miracle that you weren't expecting (& didn't even quite know you needed!). Such was my experience recently when I traveled to Canon City, Colorado with my family for a bike ride along the "Riverwalk", a groomed trail beside the Arkansas River. What's not to love? After an exceptionally rainy year, this warm day in mid-July was the first time in ages we'd seen the sun come out (talk about cabin fever!). We were all itching to be outdoors, and a bike ride along the swollen river seemed like the perfect day trip. Indeed, the nearby Centennial Park was filled with families picnicking, playing games & making ice cream, and a gentle mood of relief that summer had finally arrived seemed to linger over everyone like the sweet melody of an old favorite song. Yet to my surprise, after we biked a few miles beside the river, the trail abruptly ended at the railroad tracks with a large yellow barricade & a warning sign against trespassing. To my right, however, was a steep path ascending up a craggy mountain & another sign that read "Tunnel Trail." It appeared rocky & forebidding, but in the back of my mind I recalled hearing about this trail that had 3 tunnels blasted out of granite, which I thought my boys might be thrilled to see. So even though we were quite hot & pestered by flies near the river bank, something in me just HAD to go up that trail, despite the initial whining of my children...

What I discovered was the most gorgeous bike path I've ever seen. Soon, we were awestruck by the spectacular vista of the Arkansas River & surrounding wilderness that followed the Royal Gorge Railroad tracks, as well as delighted to pedal through old tunnels that had been dynamited a century ago for mining. Naturally, my children made wolf howls & choo-choo train sounds each time we entered a tunnel's depths, gleefully listening to their echoes. (I was secretly glad there were no bats. ; )

Now, bear in mind that I'm a middle-aged chick who's terrible at bike riding. Terrible at most sports, really--but of course, I fake it for my children so they'll grow up "adventurous" & enjoy the outdoors. Nevertheless, when the exceptional beauty of nature whispers to me, there's just something that takes over my spirit, despite my meager athletic gifts. I have to keep going, even though my lungs strain & muscles groan. So for the first time in my life, I found myself pedaling with such wonder & exhilaration that I surprised myself, eager to see the next bend, the next vista, each one a revelation for the eyes. For all intents & purposes, I became a pretty good biker! Not about to win any races, but thoroughly enjoying myself, and I marveled that I'd somehow managed to negotiate this sport rather late in life.

And that's when I saw them...

Cactus roses & blossoms of extraordinary color, rooted in the most prickly of desert plants.

Vivid Indian Paintbrush, whose scarlet petals covered several high meadows in a sea of red.

Wild roses displaying delicate, paper white blossoms, with lush green leaves regardless of the desert ecozone & Rocky Mountain altitude.

Geraniums that littered hillsides & every rocky crevice, waving their bright petals like flags.

Even the rare Coyote Melon below, found only in western, arid areas like the Mojave Desert, Baja & Joshua Tree, happen to grow in the wilderness near Canon City as well. They've been enjoyed as far back in evolution by such creatures as the Mastadon (scientists have discovered remnants of their DNA in animals' intestines). But their fruit is incredibly bitter, so Native Americans tribes simply roasted & ate the melon seeds. 

But the one that really took my breath away is the Indian Blanket Sunflower below (which I featured at the top of this post). This wildflower bursts with rich hues, yet always grows out of the worst dusty soil imaginable. 

Everywhere I looked on this trek were blossoms of staggering color & design, overwhelmingly lovely, and each one a late bloomer. You would have thought it was April for all of the flora that surrounded us, yet it was JULY! And how these sumptuous wildflowers persist in spite of wind, heat, altitude & soil that looks more like gravel boggles the mind. It's as though Nature was holding her own quiet celebration that day for those who persist, strive, and dare to thrive. If you've ever read any of my posts, then you know how excited I always get about wildflowers, but here in the high Southwestern desert, these exquisite blossoms whispered something unique:

Sometimes late bloomers can be the best of all.

These are the ones for whom life hasn't been easy. Every force of nature & trick of environment has conspired against them. Yet these factors have only caused their colors to become that much more rich. And naturally, I couldn't help taking a little solace for my own journey in the stories of endurance that these wildflowers tell. Like many of you, I was never the shiny young thing in high school or college--I'm the kind of person who took years to unlock her passions & find her way through the maze of life, coming into her own only after hard work & her fair share of setbacks. In a culture that worships glittering youth & overnight internet millionaires, people like me often feel lost in the electronic shuffle of social media & relentless, surround-sound boasts of success junkies.

Yet how could I not look upon this unsought moment of serendipity as surely a pinnacle of life? I'm healthy, my family's happy, and Nature was putting on a show for us that rivaled Fourth of July fireworks, if we were only willing to stop long enough to truly look. So as you continue on your own journey, I'd like to encourage you to pause for the quiet stories you see all around you of endurance & tenacity, along with the rich rewards of those that are the sometimes the slowest to bloom. The road is worth it...so worth it...no matter how long it takes. Though our paths are full of unpredictable twists & turns, and few have a smooth trail to the kind of fame or success we see peddled in media, these late bloomers can remind us that the unexpected does exist... 

And often, their hard-won beauty is the brightest miracle of all. 

"It's never too late to be what you might have been." 

~George Eliot 

(Pen name of nineteenth-century English novelist Mary Anne Evans,

one of the greatest writers of the Victoria era. Her first novel was published 

at age 40, and she had to use a male author name to be taken seriously.)

Allow the journey carry you to who you've always wanted to be...

Beautiful Dreamers

I have a secret...

I am a veteran dreamer. From way back. When I was in second grade, I was seated in the rear of the classroom at a separate table & told to color with crayons while the rest of the children learned to read. My teacher deemed me "simple" & unable to keep up with the class because I frequently appeared lost in thought, as though I'd traveled to another realm. 

And she was right. 

I was in another world. But what she didn't realize is that I was actually quite busy.

In my mind, I was visiting new lands & holding conversations with creatures who had wings & engaged in fascinating adventures that stretched the limits of reality. I remember how difficult it was for me to focus on rote learning, particularly since my mind was always spooling at the speed of light. By the time I turned seven, I had my subtle daydreaming technique down pat--all I had to do was fold my hands in my lap, tilt my head a bit & let my eyes drift to the side, and my spirit could escape from the classroom entirely. No one could tell I was lost in imagination, because I kept a vague smile on my face to make it look like I was listening. 

This habit had negative consequences on my school work, of course. And you might think I would have become discouraged by the teacher's assessment of my intelligence. I knew full well she thought I was dim, because another student came up & informed me that I was seated at the "dumb" table. The teacher heard her words & didn't argue.

Cool! was my reaction. I get to color! Not only did I get to dream, I could draw whatever I'd imagined & then take it home to show to my mother.

Thank God I had the kind of mother who always told me I was smart & creative! It never occurred to me to internalize anyone else's assessment of my abilities. And what my mother gave me, along with her consistent & enthusiastic approval for creativity, was her undying faith in possibilities that bordered on magic. While others might have recommended medication or behavioral therapy, instead she saw a little girl whose soul was big enough to try and embrace all the beauty in the world.

Now, in middle age, after finishing several college degrees, holding jobs, and checking off many things from my bucket list, I still find that the creative dreamer in me--that girl who loved to look at the world as full of wonders--is what I like about myself best. And I actually think it's what makes me the most beautiful inside. Forget the fact that I adore makeup, have too many shoes, and love to snag retro-bohemian clothes on eBay. What makes me feel the most luminous within is viewing life the way my mother taught me: As a world brimming with light, beauty & promise, where nothing is impossible.

And I have a confession to make: I see people that way, too. I get so excited when I meet everybody. They're all so beautiful! Each one a spark of energy I've never encountered before! In truth, I'm the kind of person who has to sit on her hands to keep from hugging everyone in sight--even strangers. Over time, I've had to learn to reign myself in because I scare people. A couple of my dearest friends "get it" & are gracious enough to run around with me in the woods every spring, hugging all the trees & greeting the new flowers. My little boys, of course, enjoy it too, and we prance through the forest crying "Welcome!" to every blossom we encounter. They're only here for a short time, don't you know? And surely they deserve to be celebrated. Especially with a lovely picnic blanket & tea set... 

So call me the April Fool & I'll wear the crown with pride. For me, this dreamy tendency makes each day enchanting. Like you, I continue to do laundry, go grocery shopping, cook meals, and fulfill all kinds of household & career obligations. But I never fool myself for a minute that such activities help me "get ahead." In my heart I'm already where I want to be. If I can run my hand through a child's silky hair, listen to his or her fanciful stories, feel sunshine warming my skin, smell new blossoms & hear the gentle rustle of wind through trees, I've "arrived". And as spring temperatures warm the earth beneath your feet, I hope you'll be foolish enough to take off your shoes & socks once in a while & feel its stirring beneath your toes, maybe even letting it trickle down to your soul. When you do, I hope you'll lie back on the grass & take some time out to visit with the most beautiful part of yourself--that part of you that knows how to dream. How to revel in the wonder & mystery of life, & how to let your spirit soar to wherever it wants to go. You never know, you might just find that it carries you to where you've always wanted to be after all...

Photo credit note: All images on my blog are either my own or were gleaned from pictures in the public domains of popular social networks like tumblr, facebook or pinterest. If you own the copyright to any of these images & do NOT want them used publicly, please contact me & I will take them down immediately! : )

Holiday Hush

All right, I confess--I tend to get a bit overwhelmed by the holiday season. As beautiful as the month of December is, all the purchasing of presents & wanting to make others feel happy & dearly loved can sometimes leave me bedraggled. I mean, does it really matter if my gravy's lumpy or I don't tie ribbons particularly well? Probably not! Like most of you, what matters most to me is that my family & friends are healthy & happy. So this year, I had a radical thought: what if the best gift I could give to others is ME? A sincere heart & joyful spirit who surrounds others with peace & kindness? Who loves others for their authentic selves--not for what they can do for me or provide under a Christmas tree? Yet to do that, I realized I needed to first find that peace & authenticity within myself. So rather than running around like crazy trying to make everything "perfect" this holiday season (& God knows, I'm guilty of that in years past!), I decided to take time out to truly appreciate the simple joys of December & to allow a hush to settle into my bones.  

For me, this means stopping long enough on a ski slope in Colorado recently to notice how the clouds look like Angels over the mountain tops. When I lifted my eyes, honestly, I could almost hear them singing! And I wondered if this wasn't just mental fancy on my part--if there really IS something in the universe that rejoices when we take time out to notice the beauty & wonder all around us.  

And a few evenings ago, while I was out jogging during a light snowfall, at one point, I simply had to stop, clutch at my heart, and gasp. Why? Because as the snow filtered through the sky, the setting sun shone through the spiraling flakes, making each one flicker gold. The sight was so heart-stoppingly beautiful that it brought tears to my eyes. Even though I tried to capture it here (rather badly) on film, nature's poetry still left its mark on my soul in the form of a deep peace. And that silence, that sacred hush, is the true gift that I think December can bring. Within its quiet chill are moments that allow us to pause & appreciate something I can't even quite articulate--but that I believe has something to do with the eternal inside the temporal. A beauty that is at once fleeting & yet so piercing that it can endure in our hearts for all time. 

If we can relax long enough to feel that "sacred hush" during the holiday season, and let it replenish our souls, then we actually have more to offer other people! We have the gift of ourselves that can truly love & cherish those around us.  So as you make your way through this happy, hectic, harried, & hustle & bustle month, I hope you can also give yourself the opportunity to take long walks, to gaze at the sky, to allow snowflakes to fall on your tongue or notice shapes in the ice & patterns in the snow. In other words, during the midst of the holiday rush, don't forget the hush. Because long after the lights come down & the decorative trees have been turned into kindle, it may well be that these quiet moments are what you remember most.

Like the sweet message from a precious child left for you in the snow . . . 

(Photo credit note: All images on my blog are either my own or were gleaned from pictures in the public domains of popular social networks like tumblr, facebook or pinterest. If you own the copyright to any of these images & do NOT want them used publicly, please contact me & I will take them down immediately! : )

Angels in Disguise

Nothing prepares you in life for seeing a policeman step out of his cruiser with an assault rifle as big as Texas when you park in front of an elementary school to pick up your child. Believe it or not, you will tell yourself the most absurd things. The first thought that went through my mind was, "Oh, it must be law enforcement Show & Share day, and he's going to let the kids see his unloaded firearm." But when I went up to the school building and peered through the window and saw not a single child in sight, I knew. 

This was a lockdown.

And it troubles me how difficult it was for me to convince other parents of that fact.

An emergency lockdown simply didn't factor into their plans that afternoon. Like most of us, their minds were caught up in what errands they had to run, when to pick up their other children from daycare, and what appointments they didn't want to be late for. A few parents were annoyed by the inconvenient "delay" while others were still trying to tell themselves everything was normal by saying that the kids must be "late coming home from a field trip."

Excuse me—every child from kindergarten to 5th grade, including all of the office staff, just happen to be gone?

"No—they're hiding," I had to inform them. "And this is the time to pray with everything you've got."

And pray we did. I grabbed several parents hands and began to pray right then and there. This is the nightmare situation that every parent dreads, and it was really happening . . .

Of course, when the sirens started to wail & the SWAT teams arrived, it got a little bit easier to convince other parents that this was, in fact, no ordinary day. And it was not going to get better any time soon.

Still, several parents complained that they should have gotten a "text" informing them of the problem. Really—so while the principal is hustling to call police and hide all the children from apparent danger, she ought to take time out to compose a message to you?  Not even the four gunshots I heard outside on the other side of the building seemed to alarm anyone around me that this was for real. But when police announced that everyone had to clear the area & return to their cars & wait until further notice because this was, indeed, an emergency situation with an intruder at the school, most of the parents finally fell into shock and ceased grumbling about the disruption to their day.

And then we waited. And waited. And waited . . . 

And this was by far the most excruciating part. Apparently, a middle-aged man with a suspicious backpack had been spotted lurking on school grounds the week before and had been kicked off the property by school officials. But when he was spotted lurking on the school grounds AGAIN with his same suspicious backpack, our principal took no chances and called police.

What happened next astounded me. It was only ten minutes before school was supposed to let out. The school crossing guards had already stepped out of the building to help guide traffic. Parents were already lined up to pick up their kids. Many school officials might have blown the thing off, thinking it's so late in the day—just let the kids go and have the police deal with this guy later. But not our principal. With extraordinary swiftness, she locked down that building and had her teachers hide the children so fast you would have that the school had been utterly abandoned. Police and SWAT teams arrived within mere minutes. The bushes, trees, and every shadow of the building were crawling with law enforcement personnel—and you could only spot them if you looked close. I don't blame parents for not quite acknowledging the severity of the situation—these guys were GOOD. Unless you were really scanning, you might not have noticed they were there at all.

But they were. In a sleepy mountain town in the Rockies of Colorado, these law enforcement personnel were our Angels in Disguise that day, along with the extraordinarily well-trained and effective teachers who took hundreds of cranky, tired school children late in the afternoon and expertly hid them while making sure that not a single one made a sound. Honest to god, I still don't know how they quite achieved that with so many squirrelly kids, other than they must have had magic wands.

Or perhaps angel wings . . .

Our story had a happy ending. The suspicious guy was apprehended, the grounds were cleared of any potentially hazardous materials, and the children were released, one by one under heavy police protection, two hours later. We were all very rattled—some children vomited or developed stress rashes from the frightening experience—but every child went home safe that day.

And though this might seem like an unusual Valentine's Day post, today my heartfelt Valentine goes out to all of those Angels in Disguise—the principals, teachers, secretaries, school nurses, janitors, and law enforcement personnel who make it their business, day after day, to care about the well being of our children and overall community. My heart was touched beyond belief this week by their professionalism, efficiency, and valor.  You probably won't hear much about this incident in the media because creepy people hanging around schools is hardly anything new, and happy endings don't often make splashy headlines. But in my book, these individuals are the real heroes in our lives.

Even if you can't quite see their wings . . .

May your Valentine's Day be filled with warmth, chocolate, and all good things <3

HEARTWARMING UPDATE:

A week later, a first-grade boy went missing in our town. Over 75 high school students took it upon themselves to canvas a 2-mile radius until they FOUND him! Then they phoned police and stayed with the boy until an officer arrived. Turns out the child got confused & decided to "walk" home (a several mile trip). Forget after-school programs & sports—these teens dropped everything until the little boy was safe in his mother's arms. The recent lockdown had really rattled them, and all they wanted to do was be a force of good in the world. Then they stood in line to give the mother a hug with tears in their eyes—teen boys & girls alike. If you ask me, I'd say today's youth are shaping up to be one terrific generation <3

(Photo credit note: All images on my blog are either my own or were gleaned from pictures in the public domains of facebook, pinterest, or other popular social networks. If you own the copyright to any of these images & do NOT want them used publicly, please contact me & I will take them down immediately! : )

Unexpected Magic

Autumn always feels like a miracle to me—the crisp air, vibrant leaves, and that lovely stillness that pervades the earth, bringing a sense of contemplation & subtle understanding of life's rhythm & mysteries. It's as though, with the leaves fallen from the trees now, life becomes more fundamental, and we not only can see beyond the former foliage of tree canopies, we can also perceive the bare bones of our lives. Nature reveals much in her stark beauty. As we head towards Thanksgiving & our thoughts naturally become more meditative, I love to step out into Nature as often as I can to let the earth speak to me. Since moving to Colorado a few months ago, I've been taking my family on hikes nearly every weekend on backcountry trails in the Rocky Mountains that often lead to an elevation of 10-11,000 feet.

When I breathe the air at these heights & see the glorious views, I feel deeply blessed & also content. Nature & healthy loved ones are enough. The beauty of the outdoors is enough. The fragrance of the pines & soft chortle of wild turkeys or the call of the elk are enough. It seems like blasphemy in moments like this to be anything but grateful for life, color, love, and the majesty of nature.

And it's funny, but in times like this—when my mind is at peace and I don't waste a single thought on what I "want" in this world—that's when it seems like I experience the most magic. Some people call it serendipity: that unsought moment when a blessings arrives, light as a feather, that seems to synchronize perfectly with the contentment you've cultivated in your heart. For me, a delightful example of this phenomenon occurred recently when I took my family on a spur-of-the moment hike on an unmarked trail near my property. It turned out to be far steeper than we'd anticipated, with extremely rough terrain that luckily rewarded us with spectacular views. And as we neared the top, my son (who is no stranger to a belief in fairies), called out "Look mom—a kite!"

Indeed, at the top of a mountain (that was almost 10,000 feet) lay a dirty Star Wars kite under a boulder that looked like it had seen better days long ago. But my son insisted that "The fairies must have left it for us!", so my husband decided to unravel its string and give it a shot. It took a bit of time to straighten out its mangled cross sticks, but before long, we hoped we had it in working order...

The wind began to rise, and with my heart in my throat, I watched my boys' anticipation as my husband gave a yank on the kite string. If only you could see the joy in my boys' faces as that kite began to soar! They squealed & laughed & skipped & chased after it as the sun glinted off their foreheads & the breeze tousled their hair. Nothing on God's green earth could have made them happier in that moment than flying that beaten-up, discarded old kite.

And I thought to myself, "This is what magic really is." A swelling in the heart at an unexpected blessing. A child's glee. Abundant sunshine on a mountain meadow. A fragrant breeze. Laughter that you could almost swear was punctuated by the giggle of fairies. Or was that angels? And it didn't cost a thing. Simply a belief that in that moment, life is abundantly beautiful—more than enough—and a flimsy old plastic kite & some worn-out string are all it takes to thrill your soul & fill you up with a magical memory you'll never forget.

Oh, did I mention that we hadn't sold our old house yet & were paying two mortgages, my car needed fixing to the tune of 1,500 dollars, I'd pulled a tendon that made hiking precarious, and the trail back to my house was so steep that on parts of it we had to slide down on our butts?

None of those distractions could water down the magic of that particular moment—because I refused to let it. Because if I've learned anything about magic, it's this: Magic exists in the NOW. It's up to us to notice it & let if fill our hearts when it comes our way.

May this Autumn season give you many opportunities to stumble into magic. And may you have the wisdom & openness of heart to recognize those unexpected moments when they alight upon your world : )

(Photo credit note: All images on my blog are either my own or were gleaned from pictures in the public domains of facebook, pinterest, or other popular social networks. If you own the copyright to any of these images & do NOT want them used publicly, please contact me & I will take them down immediately! : )