Notes from an Open Life

Last post from the road...

...though not really from the road. We've arrived in Portland and now have the task of rearranging all the stuff we've brought into some semblance of order. The plants all survived, which is good, and the cats all survived as well. Technology (read: Internet) is in place after 24 hours or so, so all is right with the world.

The last day of driving, the cats behaved extremely well. I think they were getting used to the routine: truck during the day, motel at night. If you'd seen them in the room, you'd think they'd been in motel rooms all their lives. Very casual.

Gorgeous scenery coming down Highway 84 - through the Columbia River Gorge, and seeing the amazing Columbia River.

We made really good time and then, coming into Portland, I didn't make the right turn. And I lost it. Portland is an easy city to get lost in (at least for me, a newbie), and being lost in a city with lots of narrow, one-way streets with a 20-foot truck and towing an auto trailer is exponentially worse. After three days on the road, to be so close to our destination and suddenly having a whole new challenge was just too much. I don't usually curse a lot, but curse I did, upsetting everyone. The problem was solved relatively quickly. But, I can't say that if it happened again, I wouldn't curse up a storm again. But we made it, and here we are. Things are much better after having a good cup of coffee after three days of in-room coffee. (Boy, I'm a sad case.)

Driving a car after three days in a truck and trailer is very very easy. Now that we've unloaded, and the car is off the trailer, it's kind of a joy to learn a new set of city streets. I'm sure I'll get lost again. But in a car, it's nothing that a few right turns can't fix.

Queen of the Road

Part of me is wondering why I'm blogging after a very long day in a truck with my wife and daughter and two freaking-out cats. But I wanted to take a few minutes to share some of the experience of the day.

We were fortunate enough to run into two friends and neighbors before driving off, and then had a great sendoff from friends. It was tough, and not without tears. Then, getting used to driving a fully-loaded 20-foot trailer, also towing a car and trailer. We made our way up through the Wyoming high plains, where we had a rainstorm. I've never seen the plains of Wyoming so green, with actual wildflowers of purple and yellow. A couple of wind farms (which made the "Awesome" list). And finally into Evanston, Wyoming, just a few miles from the Utah border.

The biggest adventure was the cats. Desmond essentially crammed himself under the seat until we got here. He was exhausted and panting, and we got him some water right away. He seems to be OK; we'll be taking special care of him tomorrow.

Trixie, on the other hand, despite starting out yowling and fighting with Desmond, halfway through the trip turned into the Queen of the Road. She was on our laps, acting as if she had ridden in cars and trucks all of her life. She stared intently at all the trucks going by.

I hope they are both willing to get back into the truck tomorrow. Not entirely sure I am.

The value of crisis

Occasionally I get together with a colleague and friend of mine, John Creighton, to talk about topics like community, change, schools, libraries and social networking, among other things. I am also fortunate to sit on a Colorado State Library advisory council, discussing the future of libraries, in Colorado and beyond. And, as you likely know, I'm also involved with the Special Libraries Association (SLA).

In my conversations with John and with the council, the topic of crisis continues to come up, in one way or another. In some ways, the conversation around the future of libraries is spurred by crisis. SLA, like many associations, is dealing with crises of revenue, membership and sustainability. The budget discussions for Colorado schools is framed by crisis. The economy in general is in a state of ongoing crisis, it seems.

I think that as a society, we'd rather not have crisis. The passing of regulation and legislation is an attempt to control crisis, and reasonably so. We can't live long in chaos. Prolonged crisis takes its toll on us as individuals and as a society.

But the value of crisis is that it is a catalyst, as reflected in SLA CEO Janice's speech at SLA. Despite the harsh nature of crisis - and our prolonged struggles to avoid it - it is through crisis that we become our most flexible and our most creative. Only in crisis are we able to let go of the old things that we need to let go of, and embrace the new things that we need to pursue in order to move forward. 

You can see this in many contexts: in the economy, in our myriad budget struggles, in the reduction of resources, in natural disasters: fire, flood, earthquakes. In our personal lives, we have crises: the loss of loved ones, addiction, sudden changes in our circumstances.

Crisis is, by its nature, devastating. It is shocking. It is difficult to comprehend. We often can't see how we're going to move through it. And when we shake off the initial shock, it refocuses our priorities on what is important now.

Crisis, navigated successfully and as thoughtfully as possible, brings forth our strengths and our resourcefulness. It brings us back to our connections with others - those we know and love, and those we didn't know, but who help us nonetheless. Ultimately, crisis renews us. 

Whatever the context - SLA, libraries, schools, economy, personally - once we've recognized the magnitude of the crisis, let's not get stuck in the crisis itself. Let us recognize the losses, and what we must face, and then look for the opportunities that await us.

I love living life. I am happy.

Back in July, through some means, I saw this 7-minute clip of Nick Vujicic.

I just watched it again today, as I was looking for a good post with which to close the year. And I thought this was a good one.

I could watch this daily and still be inspired by it every time. When I run into those times where I'm feeling sorry for myself, or focusing on my shortcomings, this is a good clip for me. I love to see Nick's smiling face, and I love to hear him say "I love living life. I am happy."

Part of what this re-emphasizes for me is the ability for all of us to create meaning in our lives. That we all have the power to choose how we perceive and create our lives.

I've certainly driven myself down the road of seeing all of what's wrong with my life, and it's not a happy road.

I've also driven myself down the road of being grateful for everything that's in my life, and that's a much lighter - and more powerful - road to travel. But sometimes I need to be reminded that that road is there for me.

Another thing I really take away from this is the importance of valuing our strengths. It is our strengths that get us through difficulties, and it is our strengths that move us into new areas of growth, learning and life. 

Mostly, though, I think this is a powerful affirmation of life:

"I love living life. I am happy."

I want to wake up and say that every morning.

I hope you all have enjoyed your 2009. For me, it's been a year of major change - scary and exciting and creative all at the same time. I love taking the time to reflect on the year, and look forward to what I want to do in the coming year. I invite you to do that as well. What do you want your life to look like? What meaning do you want to bring to your life? How do you want to see your life?

See you in the new year!

One year walking, China to Germany

Just saw this (thanks to Guy Mason) and had to share. I'd love to see this slowed down a bit. I'm sure there's something I could say about time passing, identity, change, location, continuity, etc. but I think it's better just with the visual. 

The Longest Way 1.0 - one year walk/beard grow time lapse from Christoph Rehage on Vimeo.