Twenty-Five

A few (many) years ago....when I was twenty-five, I lived in an apartment in Seattle. It was a one bedroom, where, for the first time in my life, I lived by myself, with my cat, Eddie. At first that apartment felt strange and spacious and sort of decadent, since I had only lived with groups of others up until that point: a family of seven, a dorm, college and post college houses and apartments full of friends. I paid affordable rent for digs that had a view of Lake Union, the Space Needle and Queen Ann Hill. From my large window I watched morning light, sunsets, a famous lighting storm that I think the Seattle Times still sells photos from and lighted Christmas ships pass by throughout the holiday season. The building was in a neighborhood right in the city and had an actual asphalt parking lot where I could park my car. I started my job at the hospital at 7 and made it home by 4, which left plenty of time for an afternoon walk around Greenlake or to Pete's Market to see what sounded good for dinner.

At that point in my life, my sister and one or two other friends met up nearly every weekend for Breakfast at Julia's Fourteen Carrot Cafe which I could walk to. Their Tahitian Toast with a side of fresh fruit and yogurt was, and still is, one of my very favorite breakfast food memories of all times. For awhile, on Thursday evenings, my sister and one of these same friends took turns making dinner, after which we would tune in to the latest episodes of Family Ties, The Cosby Show and Cheers......one of the very best TV lineups of all times. 

At twenty-five I took the occasional weekend trip, understood I had never met someone like Marc before (we had been dating for about a year and a half at that point) and dreamt of going back to school. I enjoyed my friendships, loved to cook, walked for exercise, read and made things. I chopped enormous salads topped with cottage cheese, shredded cheddar, raisins and crushed saltines many nights for my dinner. I drove into downtown Seattle to shop and look and dream. I loved all kinds of music but had a special passion for classical. I knew I loved the out-of-doors, writing and taking pictures, and had a sense of adventure. I liked where my life was and where it was going. I didn't know exactly what the future held, but didn't really feel the need to either.

At twenty-five I didn't know that within the next five years I would be married, move all the way across the country and then back again, or have twin boys. I didn't know I'd have a husband who would give me flowers the day before our anniversary (which is, by the way today!) so that I could enjoy them the entire day of, or that another baby boy would come along. That I would explore my political views, quit a paying job to stay home and raise kids or exchange a vibrant city for the suburbs. 

About a week ago, my older boys turned twenty-five and I am (blank) years over twice their age. I think they live in a more complicated world than I did at that age.....but perhaps my parents felt the same way about me and their other children.  The one thing I do know is that certain themes have carried on throughout my life: my interests, what I value and the purposeful ways I spend my time. I can look back and see a similar pattern in my boys; activities each of them showed an interest in from an early age and the ways those have translated into how they currently choose to spend their time and energy. 

Have they noticed this pattern? I'm not sure and I don't really want to point it out....just to encourage them to pursue whatever it is that they're interested in. I want them to have the same sense of discovery about their own lives that I did and still do about mine.

Fun Stuff

Recently, I opened an email from the instructors of a workshop I'll be attending next month. It will be several days of shooting photos on the Oregon Coast for which I am hugely excited: The light playing off of sand and sea. The thought of capturing quiet, moody scenes; of telling a story in tones of blue and tan. Of instructing my camera to record the monochromatic drama of a foggy morning on the shore or the noisy colors of a seaside town.

All of the above make my heart beat just a bit faster, so when I saw that the subject line of this email read 'fun stuff', I thought 'Yep, it will be.....Can't wait". I scrolled through the message and found that there were a couple of assignments for participants to turn in beforehand. Cool! I love assignments. Love learning. 

The first one asked that we return a collection of 25 or so favorite images we had taken so they would be able to consider ways to work individually with each of us before we all meet up in Oregon. They wanted to find out what kinds of images we like to shoot and be able to identify themes within our work. Sounds good. I was pretty sure I could come up with these and set about placing a few, that to my eyes anyway, were "good" into a desktop file. Turns out, this was a bit more difficult than I thought it would be: 

'I really love this one.....but what will they think? This image speaks to me, but have I made it clear why? I put a lot of thought into this photograph.....but will they understand what it meant to me? Are any of these even......GOOD'??

The second assignment asked the opposite: The request was for a collection of 'misses'; in other words, images we've taken that for whatever reason simply didn't work out. Whaaatt?? My first thought was to politely shoot back a response letting them know I don't normally show people those. That if it was more difficult than I thought it would be to pull together some of my more decent images to show, then sharing any misses might be kind of too personal and embarrassing and.......Oh Geez.....cringe-worthy.

Of course, the reason for this second assignment is that there is just as much to be learned from figuring out what doesn't work as in finding out what does. That pin-pointing the reasons for a miss can translate into more successful and productive time behind the lens. This is perfectly logical. It makes perfect sense. As part of the workshop these two professionals were offering to look at my work from all angles and give me a few pointers so that I might become a better photographer. But still, it meant showing a couple of people who I aspire to be like just a little.......who maybe in some small way I would like to impress with my skills.......some of my worst artistic choices in the form of digital disasters. Why couldn't they simply want look at work I think is good (or even OK) and take it from there?

Years ago, the first time I had a piece of writing critiqued by an entire classroom full of writers, I was a such a nervous wreck I could hardly pay attention to the discussion. After class I quietly collected a manila envelope containing the 30 or so copies of my story marked up with my classmates comments and suggestions, took it home and stuck it, unopened, inside the cupboard above my desk. And even though I had participated with honest effort in this exercise by reading, reviewing and writing constructive criticism and comments on the stories of the others in the class, it still took me a month or more to open it up and read my own. And when I did, I learned a whole lot.

After a couple of days I concluded (correctly) that hesitating to participate in this way made me somewhat of a hypocrite. Me.......the person who constantly encourages my kids and anyone else who will listen to scoot out of their own personal comfort zone and make the time and effort to pursue whatever it is they're most interested in........was having a difficult time thinking about doing just that. It made me feel uncomfortable......vulnerable......like I would be choosing to expose my soft underbelly, and I was reacting like a big chicken. And yet I know it's a necessary part of the process. An important part of the journey.

I think that sometimes in my hurry to learn, my rush to get where I want to be, I am tempted to hop, skip and jump over the small steps. Fortunately, I've been able to figure out that as unsettling as those steps may be, it is even more precarious and difficult to travel backward in order to figure out what I may have missed. I've learned that following a passion (at the risk of utilizing a very overworked phrase) isn't always about becoming GOOD, or even aspiring to BE GOOD, at what ever said passion might be. And it's not AT ALL about being validated, and CERTAINLY SHOULDN'T have anything to do with expecting praise. The truth is that in doing something you enjoy over and over again, one cannot help but become better at it. And in photography the rewards are this: With repetition and in paying close attention to results (whether they be awe-inspiring or astoundingly miserable) one inches ever closer to expressing the thoughts, stories and pictures created in ones imagination within the confines of a visible image.

So I twitched, grumbled and cringed my way through a recent catalog of photographs, stopping to pay attention only to the ones previously deemed worthy of the desktop trashcan. I decided which unfortunate clicks of the shutter I should include in the file labeled Assignment #2 and sent them off, together with Assignment #1.

I don't particularly love to look at my failures and showing them to anyone else is something I like even less. But it makes a difference, and giving them due attention is just as important in the growth process as enjoying the feeling I get with something that 'worked'.

Wishing you a wonderful weekend! I'm going berry picking tomorrow!

Warmly, Margaret

Parenting

When stepping back for a moment to review the past many years of parenting (25), certain themes emerge. If I was forced at this moment, to come up with a short list of what I hope to have taught our boys, this is what immediately comes to mind: 

Be brave. Look forward. Attempt to see the 'big picture'. Value education and life long learning. Know that it's better to have zero good friends for a couple of months than to have ones that aren't right for you right now. It's your life, there are twenty-four hours in a day and you get to choose how to spend them. Have compassion....always. Trust your own ability to make a decision.

I realize this list could and should be (and really is) much longer..........but I said a 'short' one and the above is what surfaced during the few minutes I sat with my morning cup of coffee. I know that I'm speaking as just one member of a parenting partnership here......no doubt that if Marc were writing this he would have his own thoughts and additions.  I also know that each item could be the topic of an entire set of essays, but I'll save that for possible future posts.

I didn't step through the door of parenthood knowing how to be one, let alone a 'good' one. I'm pretty sure no parent ever has. Relying on well written books, friends and a spouse who share similar values, and an amazing set of parents of my own has helped immensely, but it's largely a 'learn as you go' venture, don't you think? Or maybe I should say adventure, which the dictionary defines as excitement, thrill, risk, uncertainty and precariousness......an apt description of many parts of the parenting journey. 

I will say that I have learned as much or more about how to be a parent from each of my boys as I did from any of the above resources. They taught me how to parent them; showed me that they are unique individuals and needed me to raise them as such. If somehow I didn't get it right the first time, they would be certain to circle back around to help me understand again......and again and again just to be sure I did. So as they leave this house, and then come back and leave again, most times for parts and experiences unknown, I can only hope that we've all taught each other what we need to know. That we keep sturdy, cohesive, respectful, strong and loving ties wherever any of us ends up.

This week one of our boys began a new job and showed us the view of downtown Seattle he can see from his desk. One bought a one-way ticket to New York and trusts he will have found a place to live by the time his plane lands. (I believe he will.) The third left to go camping and hiking in a national park (where I happen to know there are bears) without telling us just which part of this enormous park he planned to be in. He saw wildlife and waterfalls and rocky cliffs. He visited a glacier. He and his friends stuck their heads into an aqua lake floating enormous chunks of ice. They all gave us a call or sent us texts or showed us pictures. They each continue to sculpt their futures by recognizing desires and passions, and then using those to formulate words that turn into actions. They trust themselves and their decision making. I am so proud of them for this.

There have been moments in the past couple of years when I prematurely thought the parenting part was just about finished; that since the five of us are now all adults, much of the job is done. But now, especially now, I know that it's not. Even at my age......even at the stage of life that I'm at...... I continue to look toward my own parents: For sage advice. For the value of their lives experiences. For sturdy and strong ties.

Wishing you a wonderful week ahead.

Warmly, Margaret

Focusing

One of the things I love about making photographs is that two or ten or twenty of us can come upon the exact same scene and yet choose something completely different on which to focus.  This is just one of the ideas that was reinforced last week during the photography workshop I attended. One of the most important ideas I brought home with me.

Depending on the day, our group of  fifteen participants (plus two instructors) shot at one or two different locations. We were encouraged to take our time and walk around a bit in order to check out the surroundings. To slow down and think before composing our shots. To become aware of relationships within the frame and the play of existing light. To change our perspective by placing ourselves in a variety of positions in relation to what we wanted to shoot. It's amazing how differently you will view a subject simply by taking a step to the right or to the left. By moving either in front of or behind it. By changing your lens, tilting your camera one way or the other, or moving yourself up or down. 

Most importantly, we were encouraged to ask ourselves: Why do I want to take this photograph? What about this particular scene am I attracted to? How can I arrange each element in order to communicate this?

Upon arrival, a few of the shoot locations appeared chaotic and busy and full. I'm thinking that they may have been chosen specifically for these reasons! On those days, the challenge for me at least, was to find simplicity amidst all of this. To sift through the many competing stories I saw in order to  find the one (or two or three) that meant something to me. To figure out which story it was I wanted to tell......and why. 

It wasn't easy. I can quickly become overwhelmed by too much stuff. By too many options. Additionally, some locations were naturally more attractive to me than others. I had to learn to pick and choose and pare down. To remove what might detract and cause confusion in order to highlight what worked.

This business of taking pictures......it's a lot like real life.

Wishing you a wonderful week ahead.

Warmly, Margaret

Year One

I'm kind of big on anniversaries, those reoccurring dates that serve as both reminder and motivator.  I take advantage of the framework they create to make plans, resolutions and decisions. Use them as markers to look back at where I've been and see what direction I'm headed. When certain numbers show up on the calendar, I'm tempted to take a deep breath and turn in a circle with eyes wide open in order to view with greater clarity where I stand at that very moment. I want to pause and figure out how it is that I ended up on this exact piece of ground.

Yesterday was the one year anniversary of my first post on this blog.  I'd been considering beginning one for quite a few months before that. By the time I punched Publish Post for the first time, I had already spent time outlining and figuring out my font, format and header. I had thought a lot about why I wanted to do it. Why it would be good for me. What I wanted it to focus on and be about. What I wanted to focus on and be about. 

In the very beginning I was nervous. None of my family, friends or acquaintances had blogs at that point......that I knew of anyway.  And of course, I wanted to let them know what I was up to, because......well......I wanted at least a few readers, followers and viewers. I wanted at least a little bit of feedback. Even though I'm comfortable with being an independent thinker, feedback really does help. There is always risk in putting oneself out there and I knew I ran the risk of making a fool of myself to varying degrees. Realizing that those I know and care about might not 'get' or understand whatever it was I planned to 'put out there' made me queasy, and for a few days pages I had already written stayed safely put, safely private, locked inside my computer. In the end, I followed my heart, my passion and my gut, and pushed that darn button.

I have to say now......a year out......that publishing This Friendly Village has been a great discipline. I have learned a lot. I've become quicker with the decision making, the thought process, the pictures and the posting.  I think I've become a better writer and photographer.  I have become more brave. 

The transition from one stage of my life (parenting) to another (an empty nest) was made easier when I gave myself permission to share. By committing to photographing, documenting and posting while exploring a few things I'm passionate about, I've been able to define what more I might do with my time......now that there is more time. To see, as I chose topics and subjects, what rose to the top. Should I have been doing this all along the way during the past 24 years? Maybe. I am definitely aware of how much I would have loved it if certain aspects of the Internet had been around when our boys were much younger. (Not to date myself...but I didn't discover blogs until a couple years ago.)

I've spent some time wondering if I have used my time in this space in the way I hoped I would. Did I find new things out about myself? Confirm what I have already known? Have I discovered new interests and met new people? Learned more about my relationship with my camera, keyboard and computer? With those I know and love? There have been a few dead ends for sure, but overall, the answer is 'yes'. And now that I've completed my first year, I'm looking  forward to the next.......few. It's made a difference in my life. I hope that in some small way it has made a difference in yours too, for we are all in whatever it is we're in.....together.

Warmly, Margaret

Who Would You Choose?

At some point a few years ago, I wondered: If I could have dinner, one at a time, with any three people (currently living), who would they be? Dinner, because it means a couple hours of conversation. Because ones choice of restaurant or food says something about them.  I would go armed with questions, but hope for more of a chat than an informational interview. In the end, I would want to come away with an understanding of the inherent traits that make this person tick. With a mental picture of the circumstances that allowed or encouraged them to do what they've done so far in their lives. I would want to know how they feel about their experiences and accomplishments, and aside from what they've written, filmed or recorded, what they are like as a person. I imagine I would allow enough time to pass between dinners in order to think about what each one had to say. To absorb the details, meaning and results of how they have spent their life.

My list has continued to change throughout the years,......which, I guess is the fun of it for me. The writer, actor, comedian and musician, Steve Martin, pretty consistently makes the cut. I find him intelligent and funny, and possessing an interesting range of talent. I am currently reading his novel,  An Object Of Beauty .

Tom Brokaw has been on it for quite awhile, too. I've been fortunate to have heard him speak twice this past year. The first time was in May as the commencement speaker at The University of Montana. I was so moved by this speech, that when I saw he would be speaking at Benaroya Hall for Seattle Arts and Lectures, we made plans to attend that a couple nights ago, as well. He didn't disappoint. As we listened to the editor of the Seattle Times interview him, I kept thinking it was hard to believe that one person had experienced so many historical events up close. My favorite anecdote was when he shared the serendipity of being in Germany when the Berlin wall came down. I am also currently reading his new book, The Time Of Our Lives. Perhaps I'll agree with what he says and thinks.......perhaps I won't. But I know that I respect the experiences that likely back up what he wrote.

As far as the third person on this list......I'm not so sure. I'm kind of picky, and so still thinking about this one.

If you could share a dinner with any three living people....who would they be?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

***On a Holiday note:  I've put together a Calendar for 2012 . Each month is professionally printed on a loose 5 X 7 glossy card (not quite as heavy as a post card), along with one of my photographs. I designed it so that each month could be easily displayed in a frame, on an easel or stuck to the refridgerator with a magnet.

It will be available via an etsy.com shop within the next couple of days. I meant to have it ready to go by today......but due to technical difficulty (I had to get help setting it up!) it was delayed. If you're interested, please check back. I'll post a link here soon so you can take a look at a sample and get more details.***

Wishing you a wonderful weekend!

Warmly,

Margaret

Their Turf

We've spent some pretty special weekends during the past six years with each of our boys on their college campuses. They've taken a bit of planning on our parts, what with arranging time off work and travel plans. The older boys started college when Joey was a high school freshman, so during those years we needed to line up places for him to stay, and rides to and from football practices and games before he could drive. There were hotel  and dinner reservations to make, football or concert tickets to secure, activities to think about and weather to plan for.  I often cooked or baked something to bring along so they each could enjoy a taste of home. We otherwise loaded the car with seasonal items such as coats, hats, gloves and boots; things they may have overlooked as they packed up during a warm week in August.

These weekends took some planning on the boys parts as well. For as excited as we were to go see them, they seemed appreciative and genuinely happy when we showed up. It was obvious that they put some thought into what we would do. They showed us around campus and around town. We were introduced to their friends, their friends parents and their professors. To good music and cool cafes. They showed us the best places to get hot dogs, sub sandwiches, burritos, steaks, burgers, pancakes, pizza, cups of coffee or great beer. We saw where they lived, studied, hiked and played. We were able to experience snapshots of their college town and campus life.

Looking back, it's been fun to see that traditions have formed surrounding these weekends. We have almost always done certain things or eaten at certain places from year to year. There are requisite parental runs to Costco, Walmart and Target. Trips to the mall or REI. Marc and I have both found things around their towns or on their campuses that we enjoy doing while the boys are in class, taking a nap or otherwise engaged.

I had kind of a lump in my throat during the last weekend I spent with Patrick before he graduated. At his school they have separate Mom and Dad Weekend's, so Marc and I were each able to have a couple days of good one-on-one time with him each year. At the University of Montana, where both Peter and Joey attend(ed), it's a Family Weekend. Last weekend was Joey's second. Just a couple more to go and I will have a lump in my throat about that campus, too. Peter was such a great sport. Although he still lives in Missoula, he kept reminding us that it was Joey's turn, allowing and encouraging his brother to make the plans and call the shots.

What a great opportunity for parents to see the adults that their children are becoming. We've returned home each time feeling so proud. I'm hoping they want to continue with some kind of similar weekend tradition, even after graduation.

On the website Make It Missoula I wrote about......you guessed it.....Family Weekend this week. To look at some photos and take a quick read, click here: GRIZ Family Weekend


Wishing you a wonderful weekend!

Warmly,

Margaret

The Way It Goes

We're planning a Road Trip to Missoula to visit Peter and Joey. Life has been somewhat of a whirlwind these days as far as our family is concerned.....our front door seemingly in constant motion with all of the comings and goings. No longer is the time we spend with each other predictable. Gone are the days with schedules; knowing what time the boys will get up, leave or come home on a daily basis. When I know exactly when or if  they will be able to show up. Jobs, school, opportunities......It's a different stage of life and any attempts at predictability are futile..

We see each other when it's possible with no expectations. Each visit will be made the best of.  As it turns out, the one who now lives the farthest away will be home for a few days while we are in a different state visiting his brothers. When we return, we'll see him for just a few minutes, if at all.

We're home, they're not. They're home.....we're not. Our relationships are about love, priorities and timing. Appreciating each visit for what it is. Being thankful that we live in an age where long distance communication is fast, inexpensive and easy. 

And that's the way it goes......

Wishing you a wonderful weekend!

XO, Margaret

PS. You can read about my love of a good Road Trip , specifically our trips to Missoula MT, here!

R and R

We  recently took a week off for some much needed R and R. Good to clear the brain every once in awhile in order to be effective for what lies ahead. When I find myself a bit sluggish, taking too long to complete simple tasks or uninspired...I know that it's time.

One of the things I love to do is immerse myself in a good book; live in the world of  its author for awhile and let my imagination take off. I enjoy time on vacation where I can manage a few good hours with book in hand and no distractions. My choices may or may not be a little lighter and often are affected by what's on display at the local bookstore where ever we decide to visit.  When possible...and it usually is....we're able to find small independently owned bookshops where the owners or employees are available to chat and give a couple of recommendations. Whitefish has one such store and we make it a point to stop in each time we pass through.

This time I picked up a copy of The Reading Promise, by Alice Ozma when I noticed two or three stacked on a table near the front of the store. I scanned the cover and leafed through the pages, then asked the woman behind the counter what she thought. She confirmed what the book jacket said, that it is about a father who made a pact with his young daughter to read to her each and every night without fail for as long as they could both keep it up. Loving books, this piqued my interest. The fact that the sweet lady who works in the shop teared up when she spoke piqued it even more.

At this point, I won't tell you much more about it except to say that it was written in the honest voice of  a very bright 22 year old girl. It is her true story and about so much more than the fact that her father read to her every night without fail until the day she left for college.  A great pick for anyone who loved to be read to as a child or anyone who has the opportunity to read to a child. It is for those who look forward to curling up with a good book and who nurture their love of reading.

I loved this book and am happy I walked through the door of that shop and picked it up. I'll be passing it on to others, and yes...it brought tears to my eyes as well....in a really good way. 

XO Happy Reading!

PS. One of the best parts is that Alice Ozma shared the list of books and their authors that her father read to her from the time she was in third grade throughout high school. As many as they could remember anyway. What a gift!!

Summer Learning Garden

The other day I noticed some enormous lavender bushes flowering in the back lot where our local Farmer's Market is held. Thinking the vibrant purple would make for some nice images, Marc and I ended up back there late yesterday afternoon, my camera in hand.

As soon as I was close enough, I realized that it wasn't a light breeze moving the blossoms back and forth, and that indeed there was no power tool in the vicinity responsible for the constant buzzing.  I have kind of an irrational fear of bees......don't make me explain. One flitting here or there is fine (although a flitting one did end up in my ear the other day), but when they congregate in great numbers, I've been known to change course in order to prevent a lot of embarrassing screaming and dancing around.  Anyway, I didn't bring along my zoom and would have needed to crouch in way too close for my comfort in order to get a good shot. Thank goodness most of the other plants in the garden weren't as attractive to them at the moment.

(Don't get me wrong......I have a great appreciation for bees and am thankful for all of their hard work and usefulness......they just scare me.)

The fact that I bypassed the lavender sent us wandering around the rest of the garden, and what a wonderful spot to wander in any time during the planting, growing or harvesting seasons. Peaceful and inspiring. Beautiful and thought provoking. A community space put to good use as a Learning Garden. We walked the pathways between several small plots, reading the informative signs posted along the way. There were flowers, fruits, vegetables and herbs. Poles, trellises, rain barrels and compost. A rich variety of food, beauty and potential photo opportunities, which of course, I know will change significantly and rhythmically throughout the summer and fall.   

Today marks the Northern Hemisphere's summer solstice. It is the longest day of the year, the instant in time when the top half of the earth is tilted closest to the sun and the astronomical first day of summer. We're lucky to be able to celebrate here with cobalt skies, wispy clouds and the promise of the sun warmed offerings of the earth in the months to come. What will you do to celebrate?

Wishing you a wonderful week!

Warmly, Margaret

Helping Out

What does this weekend hold? Rising early to help out at a high school football event. Even though I no longer have a child that plays or even one still in high school, I'll be at my assigned table by 7:30. Thank goodness for the husband who will tap my shoulder, the coffee maker that wakes me, and the friend who most likely will send me a text to be sure I'm on my way. I'll arrive coffee cup in hand.......It's a great thing to do.

I'm looking forward to sharing time at the coaches check-in table with friends. After our shift we'll stay a little longer to watch and encourage. I'm hoping to take a few pictures and catch up with people I haven't seen in awhile. Of course we'll reminisce. Not so much about winning or losing or championship seasons, but about the kids. Where they were then; where they are now. We'll chat about the  strength of the program and how coaches, parents and volunteers were truly supportive. How fortunate it is that those involved were, and still are, able to grasp the 'big picture'. It made all the difference.

We'll remember lessons learned and friendships made amidst hard work. The postures of determination, intensity, satisfaction, loyalty, pride and fun. We will feel fortunate to have witnessed a group that gave their all to something they loved because they wanted to...... not because someone told them to. We'll mention how our kids learned that trust, taking chances, believing in yourself and your teammates lead to rewards unexpected. That they now know how to try hard and dig deep, and then find the place within that allows them to dig deeper yet. How they respect and encourage each other......still. How they can come back together a year or two later as naturally as brothers.

I'm not a fan of over scheduling kids or putting pressure on them to do something they either do not want or are not equipped to do. I am however, appreciative of those who create a positive environment for any safe activity a child or young adult authentically desires to participate in.

I hope my boys remember all the adults that generously donated time, resources and enthusiasm to their youth activities of choice. That they thank them by giving back many times over in the same way. That these experiences travel with them far into adulthood and make a real difference. That the positive and helpful lessons embedded into their character are silently passed on, modeled and incorporated into whatever else they do; however else they spend time.

Another class has moved on. Another group of excited new ones will begin to take their place. I'm predicting that in a couple of years, kids, parents, coaches and volunteers will still be looking back and commenting on what a great experience it was for all involved. Still coming back to help out.

Hope you have a wonderful weekend....however you spend it. :)

Margaret

A Favorite Place

There is a favorite place I love to go.  A place that alternately relaxes and energizes me. Where I become lost in thought. Encouraged. This weekend I had the chance to spend time there again, along the banks of the Clark Fork in Missoula. I love to look beyond the river at the university. To soak in the endless possibilities of being engaged in its presence. The current of hard work and direction cross over the water. The opportunity of those who just-aren’t-sure infects me. It is the kind of multi-leveled, multi-sensory atmosphere that those who are committed to learning create. 

We were in Missoula to be with our sons. One celebrated the transition from full time student to building a life there….at least for a while.  We helped another pack up and move home for the summer. The third took a few days to hang out with us before exploring his options after his own graduation last week.    

Will they put their degrees to use? Will they choose a job according to what their diploma says they studied? I’m not sure and it doesn’t necessarily matter to me.  My own degree is in Microbiology and Public Health. I worked for years in a field that was directly related….and then for years doing something else entirely.  I do, however, use what I learned every day, in everything I do and with a perspective that I may not have had otherwise.  I know that I ask different questions, dig deeper, and I hope the same thing for my boys: That they continue to want to learn.  

Along the way, we’ve heard the typical complaint questioning the necessity of taking one class or another. ‘I’ll never use this......’, to which I encourage ‘Tell me what you think in a few years.’ I enjoy art, music, history, writing, photography, cooking and travel. I have raised three kids with my husband. I can truthfully say at this point that, although I may not have wanted to take every class that was required, I do appreciate the time I spent exposed to them. They all apply….those classes that at one time I thought would not be useful.  

I don’t think I’ll ever tire of spending time looking across the moving water of the Clark Fork. It is running high……higher than I've seen it yet…….and was a little frightening in its swift transport of logs and entire trees.  This weekend instead of normally crisp, blue green whitecaps, water thundered past in softer waves, muddy and brown from churning and heaving. From collecting the input of small streams along the way. A flood watch is currently in effect and it all depends on the weather and how fast the northern Rocky Mountain snow pack melts.  Most times I find the river serene but this time it rumbled. Its rush and noise lulled me to sleep at night, but while I watched above its banks in the daytime, I was fully awake.