Rose

I sit here on the front porch of the cabin early on a Saturday morning. The dew is heavy on the grass and the hummingbirds are feasting at the feeders. The only sound is a crow chasing a red tailed hawk over the meadow and chickadees in the pines. At times like this I wonder if I really want to leave the cabin to find a home of my own. Then I remember this past winter, shiver and continue my house hunting. I am satisfied as I look out over the lawn and see the beauty I have created here over the past six summers. The turf is well fed and weed free. The perennial beds are blossoming all around the cabin with roses, black eyed susans, peonies, hydrangeas and phlox. Pots of geraniums and beds of snapdragons add splashes of color. It has been an honor to care for this historical treasure. The peace and serenity I have found here has added a multitude of textures to the fabric of my being.

I look over the railing and observe the fullness of the wild climbing rose I cut down in April. The canes had become woody and non- productive. The weight of the plant was corralled by heavy gauge wire and nailed to the cabin logs. I’d been told by native Montanans that these heirloom roses could be cut down harshly and they would rejuvenate completely. So one very brisk morning, I conducted a dormant pruning. Donned in a canvas jacket and wearing leather gloves, I hauled out a truckload of branches. Then I waited. Temperatures rose, daffodils and tulips bloomed, the rose did not survive. I couldn’t believe I had been so foolish. I know better than to prune more than 30% of a plant at one time. Restoration pruning takes two to three years to accomplish successfully. I had annihilated my favorite shrub. Last year neighbors stopped by just to tell me how gorgeous this plant was. What was I going to tell my landlord? I accidently killed a 75 year old rose that his grandparents had placed there or the settler before them. Me, the master gardener teacher. By Father’s Day, when the other roses were blooming, there was one green sprout. Please, please grow.

Thirty days later, fertilized, watered and prayed over, it is rallying with a passion. The succulent new growth is an emerald green and profuse. Hallelujah! This plant speaks to me on so many levels this morning.

· It speaks of faith that life is reborn from the ashes of what can appear to be insurmountable devastation. Like the mythological Phoenix, we rise from our challenges and greet the new day. My faith and trust are even stronger after walking through the dark night of the soul and reaching the light on the other side. The root system was tough and irrepressible.

· What appears to be dead can be a matter of timing; it will bloom again. It may not be on our schedule but it will happen. I reflect on dreams I have carried and wonder if maybe someday… I have dreamed of a partner, a new home, writing a book…these dreams may be dormant but they are not dead. When the time is right, they will bloom. I cannot see it now, but someday I will. There is still life and growth under the surface.

· One year of flowering was sacrificed for the overall health and benefit of the whole. This rose will be even more glorious next year. Continual thinning will eliminate the necessity of such radical measures in the future. We can make huge changes all at once in our lives or small incremental moves that take us higher on our path. Sometimes we do them both simultaneously. There are times when I have taken an unnecessary detour and then I see that it was an indispensable fork in order to give me a new skill or a new perspective. The time I forfeited was made up in the awareness I gained.

· I really dislike this cliché, but it comes to mind, “What doesn’t kill you makes you strong.” Don’t people tell you this when you are so far down you can’t see any hope? I want to kick them in the shins. The rose says it more beautifully by gentle demonstration. I can see where my rough edges have been worn down by adversity. Maybe it is age, or wisdom, that allows me to accept the softer side of me. I don’t need the woody branches that were the stiff and rigid belief systems that I inherited. Through the years they have been discarded one by one. In their place is a flexible bough with budding shoots and tiny blossoms. I can bend, I can be pushed flat but time has shown me that I will rebound even more resilient.

So thank you, Rose, for giving me so many messages as I drink my coffee and the morning sun. Thank you for surviving my overzealous efforts. I didn’t mean to be so punitive in my branch removal. It is one more lesson to understand that sometimes people think they are helping us but can appear to be cruel. Their words can cut to the bone. All the while they are trying to help in their own way. Just say “thank you” and keep on growing. Keep on thriving. Pull up the juices stored in your roots and bloom, bloom, bloom.

Best wishes,

Pat

First step

I am sitting in the shade of the cabin as the sun beats on the front porch. The heat can become beastly in July right around supper time. A breeze puffs down the hill from the forest, crossing first the orchard grass in the pasture and then my lawn before it reaches me. The scent of pine needles and cottonwood blossoms are carried along with the cooling breeze. I am distracted first by a butterfly and then by the realization that the lawn needs mowing one more time. I can hear voices floating  up from the horse park and jet skis buzzing across the lake. My chair is a tractor seat that has been nailed onto a tree stump. It goes beautifully with the old wooden, electrical spool that serves as my table. 

I must create a "platform" for my book proposal. This is a publisher's version of a business plan for for a book. The platform describes how I intend on getting the word out about my book. It includes social media - I better learn how to tweet - interviews, contacts, newspaper, magazines and television. I do have experience in this area, not only from the job I have now but also for years working as director of the Farm on Wheels, Inc. and development coordinator for the NYFVI. I sent my promotional materials to ABC, CBS and Oprah describing my agriculture program. I cannot begin to convey my excitement when a crew from CBS news spent two days with me going to inner city schools filming me teach and joining young students as they learned hands on activities at the farm. I found the 1997 VHS tape, amazing it has made all of these moves across country, and had it converted to a DVD. I picked it up today. Step One of the book proposal project. Now, I have to figure out how to make it available as a link to this site. You will all get to see it as soon as I have that figured out. The right person will show up, I am positive. 

Each day I hope to make one step toward my goal. I'm going to set up a calendar of deadlines. The next person I need to find is a copy or line editor. I have some ideas where to begin. It will help me to select which stories will go into the proposal if I have an editor that is not related. Each family member has their own favorite.

I will have to share with you that I am still house hunting - six years and counting - and I am working with a personal trainer. There are many balls up in the air, so to speak, but it is time for these things to  fall into place. I am sure I will manifest a home that is conducive to writing where heat can be expected by turning a dial and not dragging wood up from the basement. The stronger and healthier my body, the more confident I feel speaking in front of a group. Yes, it is time.

Next post I will share with you my intention and why I wish to write. I am content that I made myself sit down and I actually wrote without finding a reason to do housework or plant additional flowers. Until later..

Book Proposal Launch

Ok, this is going to be the beginning of something new. My blog usually consists of my commentary of life and the awareness that I gain from being in nature. I called my vignettes "stories" and a friend told me that term indicates fiction writing. This is not fiction. 

I wish to share with you, my reader, my dream. I love to write. I'd love to make my living by being an author and speaker. A part of me always denied this yearning and kept me pursuing more practical careers. A little more than a year ago, I started posting to this blog. It was my first venture into having my stories out in public. Next, I presented some of my work to Montana Woman magazine. The editor, Cindy, allowed me a section in this beautiful, monthly magazine. I am so grateful for the opportunity. Having a deadline each month gives me the reason to set aside time for writing. 

I have recently returned from a Hay House publisher writer's workshop in Denver. Hay House publishes Marianne Williamson, Wayne Dyer, Deepak Chopra, Gregg Braden and many more. If you attended this workshop, you may submit a book proposal on December 28 without an agent. One person will receive a $10,000 advance and a publishing contract. Two people will receive a Balboa Press self publishing contract - worth over $7,000. The odds of winning this contest are about one in 50 compared to the average one in hundreds of thousands. This is my shot and I am going to take it. It is my intention to share this journey with my readers so that your energy and support will help guide me along this path.

When I first arrived in Montana, there had not been an agriculture agent here for 15 years. I was charged with teaching my clients how to grow their food in spite of the fact that  I had never grown anything in the Rocky Mountains. I decided to plant a vegetable garden on the courthouse lawn in the middle of town. This way, people would know where the ag agent was and I would learn along with my clients. If I was making a mistake, the whole town would see it. I would teach what I had learned. People loved seeing the garden mature as they drove to work each day. I had many wonderful phone calls and yes, everyone knew where the new agent set up shop. It didn't matter if the garden succeeded or failed, the purpose was the learning.

This blog is going to be like that. I encourage you to select one of your dreams and follow that path with me. I will continue to post my "vignettes" but will also be sharing my process - emotional, physical and spiritual - as I develop this book proposal. The staff at Hay House told us repeatedly that our ego would try to stop our progress. I listened to authors and publishers recount situations where writers gave up because they thought that "no one wants to hear what I have to say, who am I to be publishing, who will buy my  book or listen to me, I am not worthy, I probably wont be selected, " and on and on. When those thoughts began running through my mind, I thought what about those 3,000 readers I have on my blog. They are my support network. I will ask them to help me. 

What is so amazing to me each month is where you readers are located. Half of you are in the Ukraine. I have followers across the U.S. and in more than 20 countries. I say this to demonstrate how varied my audience is. I will gain so much from your unique perspectives. 

** There is a comment section under each post. I would appreciate your feedback very much. All you have to do is mouse over the word comment and a text box will appear. We all have dreams; we all have fears; we are all buoyed by each other. 

I read once, "If you want to be a golfer, golf; if you want to be a painter, paint." I want to be an author, so I am writing. More to come. 

Beginnings

I was brushing Lakota’s mane. It had been a seemingly endless winter and her long tresses were rolled into tight little spirals and knots. A mist of detangler, some finger pulling and finally the wide toothed comb. I actually enjoy this process – it is a mindless task that allows my brain to wander and relax. As each tangle unfolds I feel my being settle; my breathing quiets. The scent of her filles me, her munching soothes my soul. I know that I love her completely. Then why was I grooming her and preparing her for a potential new owner?

When I thought of losing her or giving up my dreams of us becoming old ladies together, my heart would clench. Tears would well. I could feel anxiety rush over me. It felt like death – sudden, irreparable, final.

The word beginning hit me out of the blue. In an instant, I saw Lakota taking a young girl to the state horse show. I saw her being doted on and fussed over. Lakota would be a best friend and ally as this young lady traversed the pinnacles and canyons of high school. Her life was just entering a new chapter as was mine. When Lakota and I began our story, I envisioned joining folks exploring the Bob Marshall Wilderness and Glacier National Park, going camping on weekends, driving cattle, and possibly learning western dressage. I had only owned her 10 days when I had a serious accident and fractured my sacrum. Lakota waited for me for a year until I could ride again. The next two years we rode around the farm and the forests nearby. I came to realize without a truck and trailer we weren’t able to meet up with groups who were traveling with their horses. All the assurances I had been given that you could just jump in a trailer going by, had been unrealistic. Our third year, Lakota suffered a traumatic injury and sat on the sidelines for over eight months. I have come to a point where I understand I either have to go big, by purchasing a truck and trailer, or find Lakota a new home. Riding around the farm alone has lost its appeal.

My beginning will be to invest in property and put down roots. My choice is financing a home instead of a truck and trailer. If I allow myself to feel the love I have for Lakota and still move forward, allowing us our new beginnings, I feel at peace.

Why do I feel I am losing something? Why do I hang on so desperately to the past? Why do I cling to old dreams even though I can see fresh ideas pouring into my mind? Change can be scary. Change is continual. When I look at my life, the biggest changes have brought the biggest rewards. Getting married, having children, going to college, moving, even dating and buying a horse. Every change has allowed me to grow and become more of the person I am. Change has never made me less.

I am only afraid when I think I am doing it alone, when I forget I have a higher power. At those times, I feel inadequate and not able to face the challenge. When I remember we are all one, we are all connected, that there is a force supporting me – I find the courage. Change is an opportunity for life to get even better.

I am talking to myself here. I saw that the man I care about has moved on with someone else. I put an offer on a “fixer-upper” house and wonder if I have what it takes to pull this off. I am at a workshop for writers because this is my dream. Should I stay with the job I can do with my eyes closed for the security? We all have doubts. All we can do is face them one at a time and keep walking through. I ask each day to see my life the way Spirit sees it. Use me to help others. Let me see me as the loving, perfect soul that the Divine sees. My judgments of myself and my lack of trust in my decisions, perpetuates my fear of change. I ask to see these changes as the new beginnings that they are. Jumping into the void is easier if you go with me. Come on, let’s go.

Meaning

I was filled with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety as I tugged on the snorkel mask. Hadn’t I been the first person in the group to say, “I’ll join any small excursion at the conference that does not involve me getting into a bathing suit or putting my head under water?” I was swayed by my colleagues who had seen sea turtles feeding in front of the resort while swimming. I love turtles. They have such a maternal energy. Standing on the beach for the first three days, I only managed to see the silhouette of turtle heads bobbing in the sunset light.

We broke up into groups for team building/leadership activities. One group took a catamaran out to a reef with a tour guide and snorkel instructors. Our entourage decided to do beach activities on our own which included body surfing, snorkeling and tanning. After all, we were saving over a hundred dollars and we all knew what we were doing. The first stop was Snorkel Bob's where we rented our gear. Properly fitted, we were off to the closest beach. My “teacher” had been snorkeling for two days so he was way ahead of me. Here we were in Maui, and a Wyoming, Montana, Nevada and Colorado resident were teaching each other how to take on the ocean. You have to admire academics.

I stood still about shoulder deep and put my face in the water. Ok, yes there were little striped fish down there. Cool. I tried to swim but found my heart racing after only a couple minutes. It was then I realized I was holding my breath while I swam and taking a gigantic breath when I lifted my head. Now to swim, breath and keep my face down. The first time I got the rhythm, I swam easily along the lava rock and spied on all the urchins, coral and neon fish. I was watching the fish dart about when way below me were three scuba divers. Holy cow! How deep was I? I popped up to find myself way out on the reef. I paddled quickly back towards land. I had been so focused on keeping a safe distance from the sharp rocks and coral I lost my sense of space. After a half hour of swimming, I was tired. The water was so warm and inviting but I was done. I took off my mask, tube and flippers and waited on a rock for the men to return. They were all about 20 years younger and able to traverse the increasing waves as the tide came in. It was then that someone from the other side of the reef yelled, “Turtles!”

My Nevada colleague asked if I wanted to go back out and try to catch a peek. I donned my gear in a hurry and jumped back in. We swam along the far rocks. The waves were pushing us towards the coral and it was a struggle to keep away. I had to use all of my strength. I kept his red swim trunks within sight as the rocks became larger and as confusing as a labyrinth. He pointed to a blow fish and then a needle shaped fish. On we swam. Nevada began signaling with excitement. I searched and searched and saw nothing. Then I saw it. I almost burst with joy. There on the bottom, was a beautiful sea turtle taking a nap in the sand between the giant lava rocks. Finally. I could say I saw one. We came to the surface to talk. The decision was made to continue swimming across the front of the rock formation and then return to shore along the far side.

I hadn’t gone far when I surfaced again. I was exhausted. Each time I tried to relax, the waves pushed me into the sharp rocks or pulled me out to sea. There was no resting. I looked for my companion, I shouted his name but he was nowhere. I was alone and so far out from shore that no one could see me. The people looked like specks on the beach. I had to calm down. I put my snorkel back on and attempted to regain my rhythm and swim for land. I couldn’t do it. I hadn’t swam in water over my head in more than 10 years. Why hadn’t I thought of renting a life belt? How did I get this far out into the sea? How did I lose my swimming partner? There was no way I had the reserves to get to shore. I had heard nightmare stories of people getting impaled on the urchin quills but could I do that to get onto a rock? The waves were getting stronger and stronger. I wondered if this was the way I would go. No one would ever know where I went. I’d just disappear into the vastness.

It was then I saw a snorkeler holding a board maybe 50 yards away. His head was submerged and I could not get his attention. I began paddling his way with all I had left. Plunk went my hand on the board as I found my target. Up he came. I told him I was struggling and could not make it back alone, would he please help me. Still watching fish, he chugged away holding the board with one hand with me trailing behind. I held on and assisted with my flippers to a meager extent. When we got close enough, I waved good bye to my rescuer and he was gone without a word. My friends were not on the beach but came in some time later. Trembling and shaken, I layered on my clothes and drank some water. I made up my mind to set aside the incident, while remaining in a place of gratitude.

The next morning I woke before dawn reliving the experience. I felt my limbs giving out. I could see how small the people looked on the shore. I felt the tide thrashing me first towards the rocks, then out to sea. I watched but there was no emotion. It struck me that my mind was trying to decide how to file this scene. My mind was attempting to give this experience meaning. In this instant I could decide if this was going to be a file of miracles – the man showed up with the board just in the nick of time – or a file of terror- I thought I was going to drown, I was alone, vulnerable, unfit, dragged out to sea to inhale salt water and die. What was it going to be?

It reminded me of an accident that occurred almost 30 years ago. My girls and I had spent a day swimming at our pond with the aunts and cousins. I was packing up the car at the end of the day, stuffing the station wagon with inflatable toys, life jackets, sand pails and towels. I turned back towards the beach to collect the girls. Where was my youngest? My eyes combed the sand and that’s when I saw her. A little pink blur was under the shallow water. In an instant, I was there reaching for her as she lay on the bottom looking at me with wide open eyes. I hauled her out and into my arms. She was fine. When my husband came home from work, I recounted the story. We were both giving thanks for her safety.

She seemed to be fine the first few days and then she became increasingly afraid of the water. Afraid to take a bath, afraid to wash her hair. Eventually, I couldn't get her near water to wash her hands or brush her teeth. Instead of getting better, she was getting worse. My husband and I took her to a counselor. It didn’t take long until he solved the mystery. Her sister was 2 ½ years older. Her sister was dramatically telling the story, as only a four year old can, emphasizing how dire the situation had been. The younger child was listening and becoming more fearful with each telling. The more she heard how scary the situation was, the more she felt afraid. If no one had applied a negative meaning to the experience, she would not have remembered it that way. It would have remained a neutral experience. We began retelling the story in a nonchalant way and the symptoms disappeared. We took away the charge. We changed the file name.

It is time for me to assign the snorkeling incident a meaning or maybe not. Can I leave this as a neutral experience? Can I put it in my memory without denying it happened, without giving it a charge that will sneak up and affect my future dealing with the ocean? Can I use this situation to see how I apply meaning in other areas of my life – negative or positive? It’s a choice. I am choosing to leave it as neutral. It happened. I am still here. I am grateful for my life and every breath I take. That is all the meaning I need.

Dog as my Teacher

Aries first day home June 26, 2007

After reading Your Dog is Your Mirror by dog trainer Kevin Behan, I looked at my dog, Aries, differently. Behan states that dogs respond to what their owners feel and not necessarily to what they say. Most of the book demonstrated the heart connection between humans and their dogs. The trainer had handled numerous canine behavioral issues which he felt were related to the owner’s emotional state.

I remember thinking – wow – if Aries’ behavior reflects what is in my heart, I could only be so fortunate. She is playful all the time. She is loyal, trusting and dependable. Aries never has a bad day. She likes everyone and everything. This dog is always wearing a smile. I must be joyful, loving and optimistic if my dog is my mirror.

In light of that idea, what keeps going through my mind is My dog is My Teacher. I could only aspire to be what Aries shows me. I don’t know if I can agree with Behan that she shows me what is in my heart or what I wish was there.

Aries demonstrates to me unconditional love. Right now, it is just the two of us. Aries lets me know every morning and every evening that I am the most important thing in her life. I can be totally who I am and she loves me completely. She is totally accepting, a walking example of unconditional love. Each day I see her and remind myself to be more accepting and forgiving in my work and at home. To me it is a process, to Aries it is who she is.

Aries trusts me completely. She does not worry that I will forget to feed her or care for her. She is always in the moment. How amazing would it be to have that kind of faith and trust? Aries lives without worry of the future and has no regrets of the past. Right here, right now. It is my intention to achieve that kind of peace and security. I tell myself “Surrender and Release, Let Go and Let God.” Eventually, I sense anxiousness over something at my work or fear of my future and I must remind myself to stop trying to control the outcome. Let it go. I say the Serenity prayer once more. Aries does not need a reminder.

Hand in hand with trust, must be patience. This is a quality I have worked on my whole life. Blame it on my personality type, my astrological sign - I’m an Aries, too – or my upbringing, but I am a get it done person. Be a part of the solution to something, or get out of the way. My co-worker and I joke about this all the time. I’d like to grow into the sweet, gentle, little, old lady in the back of the church that is wise and humble. I recognize that patience is a major ingredient to that achievement. Aries will wait for me for days, for weeks, for months. You could say it is because she has no choice. True. But when I leave her anywhere, she watches the door quietly until my return. Friends and kennel owners tell me that she doesn’t want to play, she doesn’t whine or pace, she just waits. She is obedient and calm. Her patience is unlimited. Her patience is not limited to waiting. Aries loves children. I took her to a sledding party where there were many dogs, kids, adults and activities. There was a disabled child there that could not join in the sleigh rides. She could only throw snowballs. Aries assumed that was a game and joined in catching the snow each time a handful was thrown. The child’s mother came up to me and said, “I am so sorry, your dog does not have to keep doing that for so long.” I told her, “Don’t give it a thought. When Aries gets tired, she will go lie down.” I can’t remember who gave out first, the child or the dog. I have seen her catch sticks, snow, or tennis balls from children for hours without getting bored or agitated. This must be where the saying “Patient as a Saint” came from.

Aries makes a sport of every activity. Ever since she was a pup, her favorite game is to catch the snow that is being brushed off the car as it is scraped in the morning. She makes me laugh even when I want to be miserable. This was a particularly bitter cold winter with more snow piled up than I have seen in years and countless subzero nights. Of course, it coincided with the winter I would sign up for a boot camp at the gym four mornings a week at 5:30 am. At 4:45 am, I am shoveling the walk and trying to find the car and Aries is having a ball. With each swish of the snow broom, Aries’ face is filled with white powder as she leaps and swallows the snow. She coughs; she gags and then leaps again. As I shovel, she grabs the shovel and tugs. I get angry because I’m freezing and tired and she pulls even more. Finally, I have to enjoy it with her. Her sense of humor is contagious. I can’t imagine cleaning the car without her dashing around my legs. I will remember her actions and be more like her finding enjoyment in little things - being excited by simple daily duties. No matter how daunting things appear, there must be fun in here somewhere waiting to be discovered.

Maybe her happiness stems from her youth. I told my friends when she was a fuzzy puppy, “I am treating her like she is 90 lbs. and I am wearing nylon stockings. This is how I want her to behave.” I spent countless hours training her and I have been rewarded for that effort over and over. The days of practicing drills, we were making an investment in our future. I had clear boundaries and expectations, consequences and reinforcement. She never questioned who was Alpha; she fell into her role as pack and relaxed contentedly. We would go on long hikes, swim in the lake and bask in the summer sun side by side as she traversed the road from sprout to mature dog. I was a mother bear in her regard, protecting her and the rules were clear. She didn’t need to expend energy in a power struggle; she could live life and find the ecstasy that abounds. I would be much more peaceful if I could remember that there is a power higher than mine. I am safe and protected. My relationship with the Divine is endless and the journey clear.

I do not believe for an instant that Aries is some type of super dog. She is a good dog. We have molded each other. She will be seven next month which is getting up there for a 90 lb. German Shepherd. Our time together is finite. I am choosing to learn the lessons that she presents to me. We humans, with our amazing brains and souls, have an ability to see everything and everyone as a path to our evolution. What can we take away from observing wildlife, holding a lover, raising a child or helping a friend? Are we able to use every opportunity to grow and become more of who we really are?

I can choose to become exasperated over the mud and shedding hair this time of year, or I can remember that soon things will dry out and Aries will be back on the front porch of our little cabin. I do not know if I will adopt a dog again after she leaves this world. I would have a great deal more options on where I can live without a pet. I will never regret this time and I treasure each day I am graced with her presence. People come in and out of our lives and pets do, too. Can I discover the lesson that each encounter brings to me?

What does my Creator ask of me? He asks me to be patient and kind, forgiving and trusting, love unconditionally and without regret. He asks me to be grateful for everything in my life and to know I am being cared for even if I lose my way. He asks me to be joyful and happy. He asks me to be of service to my brother. My Creator has given me a teacher and she is lying at my feet. Yes, Dog is my Teacher more than she is a mirror. Thank you for this gift. I am honored and grateful.

Aries and I December 2013

Gold Braces!

They are coming off Thursday, yippee - 90 days goes fast :)