As my heart goes to Boston, my anger rises

I don't like that my first entry in Portland is this one, but I am worried.
Soon I'll "publish" the other posts I've been tinkering with the past few months, but the moment is now wrong.

The bombings that happened in Boston this afternoon are jarring.

When my friend called me from Boston a few hours ago to tell me that she was safe, I was thoroughly confused. I scrolled around on NPR as she told me that two bombs had gone off near at the Boston Marathon finish line, but the news wasn't on the web yet.

Moments later the headlines switched and so did my anger.
I immediately thought of the race that I finished just yesterday in Portland.
I thought of Adam who's completed nearly 10 marathons and runs almost daily.
I thought of myself and as a cheering supporter- beaming with pride as I watch people cross the finish line.

This is unacceptable.
These shootings, these bombings, these cries of anger and revenge.
I can't tell if our world is getting worse, or if I am just getting older--It's likely a fusion of both.

I also don't get it.

Below are 2 tweets that really stood out to me this afternoon:

via @tomgoom: "A marathon is a collection of amazing people that have worked hard, sweated & sacrificed. Why them? #bostonmarathon"

via @NBCSN: "Reports of Marathon Runners that crossed finish line and continues to run to Mass General Hospital 2 give blood #PrayforBoston"

If by some chance anyone from Boston is reading this. Please--open your hearts, homes, and veins.

I on the other hand will lace my Nikes back up tonight despite my sore legs.
I will hit the sidewalk with the attempt to balance respect with disgust.
I will run as far as I need to in order to regain my own personal level towards the acceptance of humanity.
If you are a runner, I'd encourage you to do the same.

Set your intentions...Build your community

Portland captured during a rooftop conversation, paired with a cup of coffee

I am slowly relocating.
Relocating my passions
Relocating my efforts
Relocating my love
My time
My process
My meditation.

I feel myself disconnecting from my home.

When I packed my bags and headed for Europe I was a 19 year old kid ready to experience another culture and another way of thinking. I hardly looked back at the home and the town that I was leaving.  I knew "MoTown" (Monmouth), my small college town, would be right there waiting for me when my Euros ran out and my clothes had reached the utmost level of stank. Sure enough, months later, there she was, just the same.

I have been a residence of this town for nearly seven years now. The thought of that gives me a sense of pride and a conflicting demand that I damn well deserve an award for lasting this long. I've had short stints of living in neighboring cities and one stint of moving home completely, devoting 2 hours a day to my commute, but alas, Monmouth was home.

Though lately my college town has turned into a crash pad. Home to my skis and gear, home to my Sly's automated food dispenser, home to my comfy bed, but no longer home to my soul.

My gravitational pull with moving to the city began about a year ago. I slowly deepened my memberships with Portland causes that I supported, and without realizing it, found excuses to head north on the 5. I planted myself right into the Portland community. I now serve on two Portland  boards' programming committees, I am dating a great man who lives and works in Portland, and am deep in the interview process and job hunt seeking development work in the metro area.

I am setting my intentions to become a part of this community. I feel a connection stronger than any connection that I've ever felt with a hometown. Some people move to the country when they feel this, but I yearn to move to a city who runs on volunteerism and giving.

I know it may sound odd, but I also feel that Monmouth is letting me go. She is ready for me to expand and move closer to the mountain, the desert, my community, and my partner. I finally feel ready. I am not leaving out of spite or challenge (though Monmouth has a way of driving people out, trust me), and I am not leaving knowing that she will always be there to catch me. I am leaving town knowing that I will never again live here--but forever thankful of all she gave me.

I am setting my intentions and packing my boxes.

I can't tell you how excited I am.

Comparison and Inspiration

"Yard-sticking", or comparing yourself to your peers is an extremely easy thing to do.  
"He is such a stronger climber than I am.... 
She is so much prettier than me.... 
Wow, look at his credentials, he's so much more qualified for the position.... 
I could never make my macaroons taste better than hers..."
----
I was trying to kill off the last hour of my 9-5 by catching up on my latest edition of Forbes online. As I flipped through the electronic pages, an article on the Summit boys showed up. This was twice in the last month that the founders of Summit Series had an article devoted to their accomplishments and future endeavors.

I first heard of Summit via Outside magazine. The article revolved around the recent philanthropic purchase of a mountain. Yes, a mountain. Please take the time to read the full story here. Is worth your time I promise.

Done reading? Awesome.

These four founders went out and purchased a the 10,000 acre Powder Mountain to take philanthropy and creative brainstorming to the next level. My jaw dropped as I initially skimmed through the article. I could feel this sense of lust for their success as my body seared with a dull ache at the thought that I could someday become large enough professionally to get to Powder Mountain and attend their conference.

"I'm a do-gooder! I want to change the world! Pick me! Pick me!" 

The latest Forbes article (find here) refers to Summit's Powder Mountain as "Endeavor Camp"; The home of the next wave of innovation. That has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? The article touches on the idea that these four twentysomethings raised enough to create the Summit Series conference while their peers are working to scrape up enough dough to buy their first home (or hell, even their first apartment).

I'm one of those peers. 3 years deep in the non-profit field, just shy of twenty-five, experiencing the daily balance of financial stability and sense of adventure. I couldn't help but compare myself to these Summit guys. If this was a game, they were TOTALLY winning.

After reading the Forbes article, I logged on and readdressed both my twitter and online non-profit groups by adding more forward-thinking companies and following more of my peers. I then signed up for the 2013 Community Leadership Conference in Portland, and brushed up on the projected trends of fundraising in 2013. 

By this point it was way past 5:00 yet I remained in my work chair and took the extra time to reflect on how I personally help move my own community forward. Honestly, I do a lot. I volunteer, I serve on committees, I work for a 501(c)(3), I give to numerous organizations that I believe in, I participate in online discussions about my field, attend conferences, and I often encourage others to serve on boards of their own interests and push their own communities forward. Maybe you're in the writing community--take the time to edit others' work, or tutor a kid who's having a hard time in English class. Maybe you're in the nerdy-nature community--lead a hiking group! Teach people how deeply rooted the love for nature really is. Move someone else forward.

My mind was gone; brainstorming various creative ways that I could bring in those extra dollars at work so that I could help more students. It was then that I realized that I wasn't comparing myself to the Summit Series founders because I was envious of them; in fact, I was inspired by them. 

I suppose that inspiration can be seen as a form of positive comparison. Something you work to be compared to, to be associated with; held to their high standards and levels of respect. 

I may never get to that mountain in Ogden, Utah, but look at what I've accomplished even in these last few hours through reflections on learning about more of my peers that I believe have already "made it". 

As a community we lead and positively compare and inspire others. It is through our actions and mentality that we can help one another get to the higher levels of  achievement.

Hats off you guys. Cheers.

Element

 

Sitting in my Subaru, sunroof open with a brisk 30 degree temperature washing in from outside--body bundled up in a ski coat and a scarf. Despite my hiking boots and wool socks, my toes felt tender and cold.

In front of me is a rock barricade serving as a reminder to visitors that beyond its wall the earth drops 100 feet into a canyon, home of Lake Billy Chinook. The lake sits protected in between the steep canyon walls and measures about 300 feet at her deepest point. This lake is my element. It is here that I learned how to slalom ski, spend countless summer days on our boat with family and friends, and drive her often enough to know her every bend and turn. I've never felt a more present calm excitement with anything else than I have with this lake.

Right now the lake is collecting the surrounding run-off snow, growing colder and colder as it waits for the Spring season. In May when we de-winterize the boat it is always hard to jump back into her waters, but she knows we can't resist. Throughout the years we've learned how cold her bite can be as your body submerges and she wraps her wicked cold arms around you. As a skier, you can't straighten your ropes and get your ski on fast enough! But by late August, her waters welcome you like a warm drawn bath.

Being that it is December, it clearly is too cold to play in her right now (hell, it's damn near too cold to play around her), so I witness her beauty from afar on a rest area bluff near our home. Directly in front of me is Mt. Jefferson; Prominent and tall against the blue skies. A small ring of clouds surrounds the base of the mountain, I've decided that it looks like a small white tulle tu-tu. As I study the mountain and it's cloud tu-tu, I feel the sun warm the left side of my face, channeling it's rays in from the southwest. I've come here to write, and to allow myself to just get lost mentally.

Thanks to the snow covered ground though, I can't seem to stay concentrated enough to write for more than 30 minutes without jumping out of my heated car to go play in the snow. I am the only one around for at least a mile, maybe more. I dance around and write words in the snow, snapping photos left and right, knowing in my heart that my photos will never capture the essence and the joy that I am feeling. I also feel my cold toes though, hibernating in my wool socks. I am usually one to ride my boundaries and push through the cold, but I know that I have to cram these toes into ski boots come Sunday, so I need to listen to them when they say "Yo--I am cold--Stop prancing around and warm me up."

I texted Adrienne a picture of me alongside the lake and with just the text: "me and my lake"
Her response: "You look beautiful in your element."

I feel it that connection when I am out in my desert world, whether it be absorbed by sun or snow. I feel grounded within my element.

My phone vibrates as Adrienne sends me a photo of her dancing in a yogi-esque pose against the red rocks of Moab. I suddenly feel that she understands the exact elation that I feel now. Two Willamette Valley nerds who can't seem to escape the allure of the desert. There is definitely something about that desert sunshine despite the outside temperature.

The desert has a way of calling people home to their inner Self and spirit.

Back from hiatus

Getting back into writing is a funny thing. I guess I didn't know how to pick back up after so many months. Where do you even start? How do you even start?

"Once upon a time..." no.
"Hello friends!" no.
"Joining us live from Oregon, here's Melissa!" no.

Let's not pretend that I didn't have things to write about or talk about during my unexplainable blogging hiatus--we all know that my mind runs a million miles an hour constantly. My pens still fill the thin lines of my various journals. My pencils still attack the white spaces of any current book I'm reading as I relate and debate the material that the authors present to me.

I don't enjoy playing catch up. I enjoy telling the now and discussing the moment. Whether it may be current climbing endeavors, stories and realizations from the trails, or even just thoughts from my bed on those sleepless nights. As of late, I continue to piece my self worth and confidence back together as I work through the constant battle of unhealthy eating habits, feeling myself becoming stronger as the seasons roll along. My calendar continues to fill with various trips and outings. My love life has flourished; now blessed by a man who sets me free, all the while holding me close as we talk about both the now and the future.

The holidays are upon us, and I've got a 2 week date with the desert. One of which will be blanketed in the Oregon snow, and the other seared by the Arizona sun. Lord knows the desert brings out the best in me.

I look forward to getting back into the groove.