Isabella Bird Miscellany

She came into the shop to purchase barbecue sauce, usually 3 to 4 bottles at a time. Her eyes were clear blue, and she had a ready smile that was mixed with quietness and melancholy. I remember one particular day she came in with eyes red around the edges. I asked if everything was ok. She looked at me with her clear blue eyes and said, "Yes, but there are days you just need to cry." I agreed then, and I agree now. Today is one of those melancholy days; not a need-to-cry day, but one that's on the side of sad and contemplative. So, it seems appropriate to share this post that's been sitting as a draft for weeks. People are lonely, desperately crying to be noticed. I've been lonely. I've had conversations with people who are lonely. The unfortunate thing is, it's not the outcast, recluse living in the hoarder house down the street. It's the chipper girl at the coffee shop who only wants another couple for her and her boyfriend to hang wi...

Have you been told you always say something? I have. Evidently, I respond with "excellent" and then ask two questions: How serious are you? And, what's the vision? Each could be asked independently of each other or in reverse order, stacked on each other. Answering one leads to the asking and answering of the other. I know, it sounds like a labyrinth conversation. How serious are you? About a decision, about a change, about a direction or choice? If the answer is some laissez faire something, then nothing will occur. S erious action will not take place, and probably nothing will come of the thought. You see, the degree of seriousness creates movement. Movement, in turn creates a response. I picture it like the proverbial mousetrap game - the dropped marble starts a chain of events. What's the vision is directly tied to the serious question. The vision will determine the degree to which we seriously take things. A wishy-washy, obscured view doe...

There’s icky stuff happening. Everywhere you turn there’s strife, displacement, floods and fires. My heart goes out to those affected by hurricane Harvey, as well as all of the wildland firefighters here in Oregon, as we watch our forests be consumed by the flames. Taking it a step broader, our culture, our world can’t agree on anything. Everybody’s right and nobody is wrong; or is it vice versa? We live in a gritty world of real needs and hurts. The stranger crawls in, abusing, demeaning and using. How will we emerge? I trust you see the optimism in the last lines, for there is always hope, no matter how desperate situations appear. It takes a resolute effort on our part to see the woven crosses and to stand strong, not silent. “Hush, be silent,” crouched in quiet              words of warning heard all too often “Plug your ears, don’t listen,” put it out of your mind        ...