Thursday, September 27, 2012

My Best Day

I just had what is definitely in the top 5 of my best days. Too tired to write about it all right now, but here's a list of what it involved:

  • Taking a day off work (something I don't do often, and when I do it's usually for a practical reason like traveling).
  • Horseback riding (which I've wanted to do for years but hadn't yet managed to).
  • Estes Park.
  • Rocky Mountain NP (easily my favorite place on earth. Caveat: I haven't been to that many places on earth, but being in RMNP really makes me feel like I don't need to).
  • Elk.
  • Deer.
  • Other elk.
  • Fog.
  • Snow.
  • The smells of 2 miles above sea level - forests, clean air, aspens, crispness.
  • Awesome roommate. (This list is in no order, I would like to point out.)
  • Aspens.
  • Autumn aspens.
  • Elk.
  • Gigantic yarn store.
  • Taking pictures galore (yet never enough) of some of the best views God's created.
It probably sounds silly, loving today as much as I did, considering it one of my best days ever out of the approximately 9875 days I've lived on this earth (not counting the days before I was born), but I just felt so...alive today. So utterly joyful at the fact that all this exists, and that I get the opportunity to experience it. I didn't even get to do the one thing in RMNP that I really wanted to do today - go up Trail Ridge Road to the Alpine Visitor Center, which has great views of the whole park from 11,000-ish feet, both because I love it up there and because my roommate has never been up there (I think this was her second time ever in the park. The first was when we went on a hike early in the summer). They JUST closed it yesterday due to snow (of course, it WOULD snow badly enough to do that the day before we go). They'll probably re-open it tomorrow, ha. But point is, even though that's what I really wanted to do, and it didn't happen, it was still a perfect day. Just a different perfect than I pictured. And so lovely.



Just the best day.

(Also, I am now more firmly convicted than ever that I need to marry a Colorado cowboy. Mountain cowboy, preferably. That, and/or become a professional photographer who knits for money on the side. One of those is more likely and attainable than the other, I think.)

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

It's practically Aslan's country

All summer, I've been champing at the bit to go hiking, and especially to conquer another 14er. (I've only done one - Pikes Peak - though I've done it three different times from two different routes. And I do love it.) And despite now living closer to a lot of great hikes, and several fairly easily-accessible 14ers, I have done less hiking this summer than any summer since college (with the exception of the summer I stayed in DC between my two years of grad school). So when one of my friends/coworkers last week asked if I wanted to do a 14er with her and another girl from work, I said basically heck yes. We were going to do Grays and Torreys Peaks, which I had heard were on the easier side as far as 14ers go. So, Sunday morning, I woke up at 5am (a very difficult feat for me, and one I would only do for a very good reason like hiking a 14er), and got myself out the door in time to meet up with my friends at 6. I'm 97% sure that I heard some elk bugling when we were waiting in the parking lot, a park & ride that's right at the start of the mountains. I've seen a lot of elk in that area over the past year. That was pretty awesome (if that's in fact what it was. And if it wasn't, I'll never know, so good enough for me.) And then the four of us headed up 70, past Idaho Springs (which I kind of love a little bit - something about those old mountain mining towns really gets me), past Georgetown, with lots of beautiful changing golden aspens in the mountains and along the highway the whole way, even past a bighorn sheep just chilling there not too far from the road! That was pretty awesome. Anyway, then we made it to our exit, and proceeded to drive up miles upon miles (slightly exaggerated) of an incredibly rutted, rocky, narrow dirt road, uphill the whole way. That was...fun. Finally we made it to the trailhead parking lot which was already pretty much full by that point. We got one of the last spots. (On our way out, we saw dozens of cars that had just parked along the road leading up to the parking lot. It was a crazy busy trail.)


So thus began our hike. It starts pretty much already at tree line - none of the trail is tree-lined or tree-covered, but the first part has shrubs surrounding it, which were pretty awesome because they're changing colors too - and I'm definitely not used to hiking a 14er with fall colors around! Actually, I'm not used to doing much hiking in fall, period, which is sad. Point is, it was lovely, but different than most hikes I've done. Also, it was ridiculously hard. I don't know who keeps telling everyone that it's easy, but it was more difficult for me than any hike I've done. Except maybe the Incline, but that one's a lot shorter - and there's a reason I've only done it a couple of times. Of course, to be fair, I am very much out of hiking shape this year. I learned today that though my body is happiest when I'm hiking, I can't go from a couple mini-hikes-that-are-really-mostly-walks a month to expecting to be able to hike a 14er without any problem. I was really struggling for a lot of the journey. I kept getting the fuzzy spot that usually means an impending migraine, which I got a few times last year when starting hikes. Usually taking an excedrin or two takes care of it, but I think this one was so difficult for me that my body was just not having it, so it kept coming back. Luckily it never actually manifested itself as a migraine, but it was tough. I was more lightheaded than I usually am on a hike.

Of course, it might have just been the view.





At one point, I really just wanted to stop. Just either stay where I was and let them go on ahead, or start to go back down. I almost did. My legs were just not having it, aside from my lightheadedness (which did eventually start to go away as we got higher). But then I decided to keep going, at least as long as I could - I usually tend towards wanting to give up too soon once things get difficult, but that's just no good for anything. In the end, we didn't quite make it to the top, because we had a time limit - we wanted to get back in time to let people rest/shower/etc and get to Mass for those of us who hadn't gone last night (I knew I would have a tough time getting myself to go afterward so I went Saturday evening). We got to a pretty good point, though, and we were happy with it. Someone who had a map or an altimeter or something said that where we were was around 13,900, so we're calling it 14,000. :-) Seriously, though, that trail felt like it was going on FOREVER. And ever. And we had earlier given up all hope of doing both Grays and Torreys (they're right next to each other, so you can go up one side of the saddle to one and then back over the saddle to the other, and then back down pretty easily), so we were just trying for Grays, but...yeah. It just wasn't meant to be today. We did feel slightly shamed at the number of children who were going up the mountain faster than we were. That's the way it goes sometimes, though. How awesome for those kids to be raised hiking 14ers! Slightly jealous. In any case, we made it as far as we did, and it wasn't the top, but it was none too shabby.

The problem with hiking mountains is that you then have to hike back down. The hike up is always strenuous and tiring for me, to say the least, but going downhill is a lot more painful. Going up uses the muscles we always use, more or less. Using them to a greater degree, pushing them harder than they typically have to go, but nothing too crazy. That's why the first time I hiked Pikes Peak, when we just went up (all 12.5 miles of it) and had someone meet us up there to drive us back so we didn't have to hike down, I was barely sore at all afterward. It was actually kind of disappointing, not really feeling it after a hike like that. Anyway, going downhill requires different control, different muscles, different maneuvering. Going downhill always reminds me that I need to get new hiking boots to replace my 10-year-old boots that have had their day. (Hello, ankle pain.) Going downhill makes me think I might need to start wearing a knee brace on one or both knees - last year on a hike I was climbing down from a rock and bent my knee too far, and it's bothered me on and off ever since when I bend it too deeply, and my other knee...well, I don't know what the heck is up with that one, but sometimes it feels like something in there is just going to snap when I'm going downhill. Mostly when I step down with it bent. By the end of the hike I had taken to doing a weird little hop when there was a particularly big step to go down, and I would land mostly on my right leg (the one with the sore ankle) and I'd keep my left leg (with the really bad knee) mostly straight when I landed. I was in a pretty sorry state by the end of the hike, though with good spirits because, hello, me + hiking in the Colorado beautiful mountains = happy!




















Moral of the hike: I need to take better care of myself, physically, spiritually, mentally. Get more in shape (I have big plans for showshoeing this winter), maybe get my knee checked out because it really doesn't feel good doing what I did today, and...man, sometimes hikes don't turn out quite as planned, but God sure did show off when he made Colorado. I am so lucky even to be able to HAVE these mountains to look at, let alone hike up them. This place makes my heart so happy, even when everything else just seems not to be going very well. The mountains are still there, whether I'm just looking at them or taking advantage of this wonderful playground. That crisp clean mountain air is there waiting for me to breathe it. The fall foliage is there for me to enjoy. I mean, think about it - God didn't have to make this place as beautiful as he did. He could have made leaves just to wither and die and fall to the ground with no fanfare, with no color, with no beauty. He didn't have to make anything beautiful. But he did. He did it for us, because we love it and respond to it and need it. It is such a gift. Such a gift. I am so thankful that I've never "gotten used" to the views of the mountains, to the scent of mountain air, to golden aspens. Just this afternoon, driving home from work, I was turning onto the interstate to head back down the mountain and, as I always do, I made sure to check out the mountains to the west. It's been really hazy lately, but this afternoon the haze was gone and there was some break from the cloud cover that we've had most of the day, and the mountains looked like they were snow-covered - but it was just little puffs of clouds clinging to the peaks. And I couldn't help but gasp and exclaim in joy at the beauty of it. I love that. I love that I completely dork out when I see the mountains (or elk. Or buffalo. Or deer. Or a fun bird). God speaks to us all through different things, and he speaks to me through that stuff. We're his children, and he wants us to be happy with the gifts he gives us, and the mountains? Well, that's a gift he gives me that absolutely makes me feel like a little kid. In the best way. :)

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Sunshine and rainbows? No, but it's not Mount Doom, either.

So, I had a really great birthday and a really great post-birthday weekend complete with more birthday festivities (of sorts), and it was all good and lovely and wonderful.

Now it's back to real life.

I love fall, I do, completely, but we only got a tease of it the other day and since then it's been back into the warmer temperatures that I'm more or less done with. I'd like fall to come and actually be here and stick around for a while. Or at least as long as fall knows how to stick around in Colorado.
_

I like my little mini-house-attached-to-the-house. It's nice, and so much better than my teeny room last year, and it's great. But I can't help feeling like I'd just rather be back in the Springs, where my family and my dog are. And friends who are on my ever-growing list of long-distance friendships I'm trying (and mostly failing) to maintain. It's hard having a life down there and a life here that I'm trying to work harder at so that it does feel more like home up here. It's hard to visit home a couple times a month, or whatever, and inevitably miss out on opportunities to maintain and build friendships up here; it's hard not to go home all the time. I don't know what the answer is.
_

I have a job. There are great people there; the organization is great and wonderful and something I know we really need. I have a steady income, even if it's not enough to be very comfortable, or get out of debt any time soon. But I'm sick of feeling like I'm in the completely wrong place, wasting my time acquiring no skills that I'd actually need in a job I want to do, using nothing of the two degrees I have that I got for a reason. And I'm sick of feeling like there's nowhere else for me to go, even if I had the courage to leave. I'm sick of feeling stuck. I'm sick of feeling like I haven't even really grown up yet because this is not the job I'm supposed to have. Not at 27. Not as a graduate of Notre Dame with a master's degree. Not when people I went to grad school with got jobs almost immediately as directors of various diocesan offices, jobs with the USCCB, campus ministry jobs, and/or, you know, got married. There's nothing wrong with or demeaning about my job now, but it feels like I'm wasting the education God allowed me to get. It feels like I'm completely under-utilizing my gifts and talents and abilities and knowledge. Of course, if God wanted me to be doing something else he could make it a little bit easier for me to find what that is...but still. Point stands. If people know what my job is, sometimes I'm embarrassed to tell them my educational background (or I just downplay the fact that I have a master's degree by saying it's only in theology which, really, is an awful thing for me to do); if people know my educational background sometimes I'm embarrassed to tell them what I do. I know that's more of a me-problem than anything else, and it's definitely a pride issue I need to get over, but still. I can tell sometimes that people have that question in their mind, why are you doing what you do if you have a masters in theology? But, again, maybe that's just something I have to get over - I should just be thankful I have a job, and that I get to live in Colorado again.
_

I have pretty much no constraints on my time. Sure, I have the occasional thing I'm committed to (right now, flag football on Saturday mornings, Biblical school one night a week, Bible study one morning a week), but I'm single which means having no one really depending on me, no one else I have to schedule around, and I can go to the store whenever I want, go to church whenever I want, take a walk, whatever. But boy, it gets old. One of the most irritating things I hear/see (married) people say to single people is to enjoy being free to do whatever, whenever. As if any of them would trade their husbands/children for the opportunity to be able to go waste time at Target on a random Wednesday evening? I know that's not what they're saying, but sometimes it feels like it. Sure, there's looking for the positives in every situation, and that's valid. But sometimes you're in a situation for so long that the positives start to become redundant. There's nothing special about being able to do anything any time if you have that option all the time. And maybe that's the point - always being thankful for it. But let me tell you, being perpetually single is hard, and it gets really old.

Every year seems like it's particularly tough, but this year I have more friends getting married than ever before, I think. A few years back there was a spate of weddings in one of my groups of friends, but most of them were at least a few years older than me. This year it's people my age. And I'm quickly becoming even more in the minority. Weddings are great, and fun, and I'm thankful I've gotten to go to the three I have so far this year. And I'm looking forward to the one I'm in in November. But it's also really, really hard. I mean, I guess I can compare it to really wanting to get married, but instead having to go to all of your friends' weddings. Alone. (Get it? Because that's exactly what it is.) Sometimes facebook is just the worst, especially those days when it seems like all anyone did was get married, get engaged, or have a baby - or post pictures of any or all of those three. And especially when it's people younger than me. I know that shouldn't matter, but it does. And I can't help but wonder what they did that I haven't that allowed them to get married at that age when I can't even get a date at any age, practically. What's so special about them? What's so not-special about me? I know that's not true, and I know that we all have our own stories and God has his own plan for each of us, and I know I'm not the only one who's still single, but it still feels like I've been left behind, forgotten about. When most of my friends are in serious relationships and I haven't been asked out in longer than I care to remember, it's hard not to wonder why. It's hard not to feel a little bit miffed with God. It's harder not to feel a lot frustrated with myself and whatever it is I must be doing wrong (because there must be something, right?) - but not really knowing what it is.

Some days it's just really hard to appreciate having lots of "freedom" while watching from the sidelines as all your friends enjoy their babies and husbands, when all you have ever really wanted is to be able to do that too. Sometimes it's hard to know how to enjoy living your life when you feel like you're still waiting for your life to start - because this can't be all there is. My life can't consist of going to a job every day that more often than not drains me in a wholly non-satisfying way, coming home to an empty room to do whatever I want, staying up too late, going to bed to get up and do it all again the next morning, always just looking forward to the times I can escape home for a weekend to see my family and my dog and enjoy life again. I know that's not all my life consists of, but that's a good chunk of it (or what it feels like, at this too-late hour when I'm overly emotional for some reason). I just wish one aspect of my life was figured out, at least for now. That at least one part of me felt satisfied with how things are going. But I guess I just have to keep chugging along, trusting that something good will come along eventually - a great job that's a good fit for me, a great guy who actually finds my weird quirks endearing, an opportunity to go live in the mountains and forget about everything. God has a plan, which I know - I just don't trust myself not to screw it up as I've probably already done countless times. No matter how often I do that, he can still make good come from my messes, but at some point you gotta think he'll just give up. (Note: no he won't.)

I know it'll all be ok, somehow. I may not get what I want; I already haven't gotten what I want on my own schedule. But right now, I just want a family. I know they're hard, and there are a lot of struggles that go along with them (to say the least). But at least there'd be someone there to struggle with. I hear it's nice to have that.
_

Well, that's enough from me on this for now. Pray for me, will you? If it's not God's will that I get married, or any time soon, at least for him to show me where I'm supposed to be right now (and please God let that be somewhere else - a new position at work if nothing else) - and for him to give me courage to do what I need to do, and trust in him (and myself). Life is...tough. I know I'll get through it, and something will happen, or it won't, and God will work on my heart to make it more like his, but right now...right now it's hard to see how any of it will work out.

It's not all bad, though. Today for lunch I had my leftovers from dinner when my parents took me out Friday night. We went to this awesome Nepalese place, which was decorated super-fun(ly), and they had yak. So I got yak curry, and lo, it was delicious. I was looking forward to the leftovers today but was slightly concerned since it'd been four days. Surprise #1 was that I had forgotten I had taken the naan we couldn't finish at dinner, which was also great. Surprise #2 was that both the naan and the yak curry tasted even better than I remembered them tasting. So that was a delight for my Tuesday.

And on top of that, Dunkin Donuts Pumpkin Spice flavored coffee. It tastes so much like fall. I bought my first bag of it last week, and it's just the greatest. Especially since it was on sale. So I've got that going for me, which is nice.

Also, today was the September birthday celebration at work (which is slightly funny because tonight I was watching The Office and one of the episodes that came on was the one where Jim tries to combine birthdays, which I had thought of today during the party), and the three of us who have September birthdays were talking about what we did/are going to do for our birthdays, and one mentioned that she might go up to Estes Park. The other girl and I both said we wanted to do that too, but it didn't work out. Anyway, we got on the topic of elk bugling, because apparently September is the time for it, and I mentioned that Estes Park is having their annual elk festival the last weekend of September, and that I really wanted to go. So my friend (the other September birthday) said we should totally do it, and I think we're actually going to so I'm fairly extremely excited about the possibility. Especially since that will mean two Estes Park visits in one week which makes me a happy girl (my roommate and I are going horseback riding up there next week. Though with my luck, and because I keep saying how much I want it, that'll be the day we get our first snowfall. Might make it more fun, though...).

So. Yes. Life's not all bad.

Friday, September 14, 2012

Birthday Blessings

Folks, it's my birthday. I'm officially 27 years old as of this moment (because I'm totally scheduling this for my birth moment). I don't yet know what today will hold (though I told a friend on the way home from Biblical School last night that I was hoping for something really good, but not boring good - unusual good. And the example I used was to be rear-ended by an attractive single Catholic man who then feels so bad that he asks me out to dinner, and then it turns out we're soul mates and all that. That'd be fun, right?), but what I do know is that I've had a lot of great blessings in the last week.


I won this last week in a random-ish drawing on a Facebook page I follow. I mean, come on, it's pretty awesome, right? The best part about getting that (it got to my house on Thursday) was that I left for Notre  Dame/Indiana on Friday morning. I got to go see in person what I now have a book of to enjoy the rest of the time. :-)

The whole weekend was fantastic, catching up with my college roommates, seeing one of them get married (and NOT catching the bouquet, which is more unusual than catching it since, out of the six or so weddings I've been to in the last few years that have had bouquet tosses, I've caught it four times), and an absolute highlight was going to Mass at the Basilica Friday evening. I mean, the whole weekend was lovely and fun and a great time, but oh, being back in that church where I did so much spiritual growing, where I always felt so at home. It was perfect. The minute I walk into that church, that sweet smell of Basilica incense never fails to overwhelm me in the best way. It's like an embrace where I know I'm loved and cared for. And then you walk into the main church itself, and there's nowhere but beauty on which to rest your eyes. That is the number one reason I think that churches should be full of beauty and icons and statues and pretty stained glass and paintings - because if you get distracted during Mass, and start to look around, there's nowhere to look that doesn't draw you outside of yourself and into God. At the Basilica, if you look up you see a ceiling and walls painted with stars, angels, Mary, the saints. If you look to the right, you see stained glass windows of different saints, and you see a beautiful portrayal of the Stations of the Cross. If you look to the left, you see the same. If you look straight ahead, there's a gorgeous altar with that ornate tabernacle towering behind it. And the crucifix is always there. Anywhere you look, you're reminded why you're there, or at the very least, you're drawn into contemplating something else that invites you closer to God. That three-quarters of an hour that I was inside that church, I couldn't stop thanking God for that place, for what it's meant for me, for its existence. When I was there, it was like I had never left. It was hard for me to believe that it's been four years since I was a near-daily Mass goer there. I still remember the tunes to the Mass parts they sing, and the psalm was one I heard countless times while a student.

That hour was one of the best presents I could have received. I almost didn't go to that wedding last weekend, because money's really tight these days and trips cost money. But God helped me out and showed me that, as far as travel and trips go, it was a pretty cheap one. And sometimes, life isn't all about money. Sometimes, it's worth it to sacrifice a bit more to enter more into old relationships. I got to reconnect with friends and have a generally delightful time, and see one of them become joined with a guy who seems like a really great person. And I got to reconnect with God at the place where my connection with God was strengthened more than anywhere else. It was like going home. It was wonderful. It was as perfect a weekend as I could have hoped for, and such a blessing how it all worked out. (I mean, on my flight out to Chicago Friday morning, there were approximately 60 total passengers on a regular-sized plane. I had an entire row to myself, and most people had at least a whole side of a row to themselves. Can't get much better than that!) Oh, and Sunday, I almost didn't go to Mass (up late Saturday night at the reception, only one church in walking distance, etc, nothing that would be an actual good excuse), but I knew I'd just feel guilty (as I should), so I made myself get out of bed before everyone else and get ready and walk the few blocks to the church, not knowing what kind of church it'd be. Well, it was in downtown Indianapolis, which means it was older - and it turns out it's the oldest church in the city. And oh, so beautiful. And absolutely lovely in every way, and once again, I felt so blessed by God. (Of course, being reminded that there are churches like that one and like the Basilica made me sad that Colorado churches aren't generally quite that lovely or traditional. But that's the way it goes.) Sometimes things are just easy and good when we get out of our own way, stop trying to plan everything to perfection, and let God take over.

Of course, that's way easier said than done. So, moral of the story is, beautiful churches are the best, and I am so thankful that God let things fall into place to let me visit friends, visit another home, and feel more comfortable than I do almost anywhere else in the world. And even beyond last weekend, God's given me opportunities this week to connect with other friends and have other great experiences that have just been so good for me (I got to see Indiana Jones in the IMAX! Yesterday was cold and rainy and foggy all day and I got to break out the boots! Tonight I started my second year of Biblical school! I heard one of my favorite songs/new favorite covers of said song on the radio this morning, quite unexpectedly!). PS - it's this one, which I may or may not have listened to approximately ten times at work today:
 
Not everything is perfect, obviously, far from it, but that doesn't mean there aren't great things going on.

This year is my scary birthday, and there's so much I wish I had in my life (well, really, two or three things specifically), but I am blessed. It's easy to forget that, but it's true. I'm blessed, and loved, and wanted.

God is good, and happy birthday to me. :-) I think it might be a good year, somehow. There's something nice about multiples of nine.