Isabella Bird Miscellany

Last weekend we attended a church in the Seattle area.  During the announcements, the word "re-inventor" was used in relation to 50-somethings.  It caught my attention straightaway!  In fact, I loved the terminology immediately. re.in.vent:  change so much that it appears to be entirely new; take up a radically new job or way of life   (Google definition)   When you "invent" you are creating or designing something new.  To "reinvent," though, you are altering and transforming the original.  This whole concept really got me to thinking.  For the past while, I have been working on the "reinventing" process without even knowing it.  Our kids haven't lived at home for several years.  They have children of their own.  We've moved to Portland after being in Eugene for 14 years.  This means re-establishing, well, everything.  I remember some friends saying, “what an opportunity to start over; do something new.” Our ...

There are just days that "I don't..."  I don't want to think, work, clean house, the list goes on and on.  I'd rather be listening to music, planting flowers, spending time with my family, travelling to faraway places or just a new park.  All great things…not always the priority. There are, however, the days we are inspired to climb mountains (even if it is the mountain of laundry) and conquer the world.  The to-do list is all checked off by the evening; quite a feeling of accomplishment is enjoyed.  As the old standard says, "What a difference a day makes."  Why the differences?  Our situations change…the dynamics of our lives.  We experience pendulum shifts.  But if you think about it, the clock keeps on ticking … as long as the pendulum is swinging. We know what to do when it’s an “I’m invincible” day, but what about the others?  Choices!  Do I want scrambled eggs and toasted bread or granola with sliced banana?...

Much of the time the busyness of life seems to keep us in a constant whirl of activities and expectations; taking away our joy and appreciation for what is truly important. Breathe:  to pause and rest before continuing   (Merriam-Webster) When was the last time I paused to rest?  During last week’s hike it was often on the uphill climb; not at all going down.  This makes perfect sense.  It takes more work and effort to go uphill; requiring the energy gained from pausing.   In today’s writing class I wrote a simple phrase: The pressures of life cook one’s soul A couple of thoughts come to mind, both related to the cooking process.  First, if one is “cooked” he might be totally spent; much like leaving the pot roast in the oven to long.   The meat is dried out and not appetizing.    The second contemplation is how cooking creates something wonderfully delicious.   The same pot roast, juicy, succulent and sur...

I love being outside.  So when a friend asked if I wanted to go on a hike, I jumped at the opportunity; quickly adding that I'm not much of a "hiker."   Forget-Me-Nots In my mind, a "hiker" is someone who dons boots, layers of clothing, a backpack loaded with survival gear, and poles to be able to traverse whatever the terrain might hold.  My idea is much more casual, something like "nature walking."  You are in a lovely setting, enjoying the scenery, snapping photos of wildflowers or birds; downed trees covered in moss ... and you are walking. Today's hike was a combination.  There was no "survival gear," but there was some strenuous exercise and photos were taken.  The best part was enjoying a beautiful afternoon with a friend.  We talked and shared and laughed.  Today there were no tears, but it's okay if that happens. Friends are a special gift.  My current readings are about "community."  We need to have peop...

This piece was written for my class.  I feel it has a very poignant message to tell. Where has all the silence gone? The quiet hush that falls over the city when the snow is falling Blanketed in white and calm Where has all the silence gone? A butterfly floating effortlessly in the warm afternoon A contrast between it and the whirling of the hummingbird’s wings Where has all the silence gone? White-faced and silent the mime tells a vivid story Communicates so aptly tales of comedy and tragedy Where has all the silence gone? Oh to have ears to hear the missing noise The words of the heart, not spoken but deeply felt, desiring to be known Where has all the silence gone? It is caught up in the fray of life Yet ever present … waiting to be discovered and heard, in stillness and quieted soul Listening to the silence ~ Missy