Give and Take: Reflections on 2021

Some of my favorite blog posts have been from New Years Eve/Day the past two years. If you'd like, you can read them here and here.

I feel a need to reflect once again.

The year 2021 had its ups and downs. It was nothing like 2020, and nothing like the years before. It was a year of give and take.

We started by giving the new year a chance to reset things. A chance to go back to "normal" after the hardest year. The year of COVID. I had my chance to take the first dose of the vaccine on January 30th, earlier than most. I felt lucky and hopeful - I still do. Knowing that many around the world still haven't had that opportunity reminds me of the privilege I have of living in the United States.

Unfortunately, some of the pride I have for this country was taken on January 6th when politics and extremism brought out the worst in some at our nation's capital. I hate knowing that our country is so divided. I hate seeing how a virus - a common enemy that can and should have united us in our resolve - has only widened the gap between groups in our country.

This year took away many of the restrictions that created so much separation and isolation in 2020. School looks a bit more normal. Events that were canceled in 2020 started to happen again. I was finally able to see my sister and her family (and meet my nephew in person).

My first experience of being back in a large crowd was at the MLB Home Run Derby at Coors Field. I felt a mix of nervousness and excitement. I was unmasked and felt exposed, but the energy of the place and the chance to see so many people's faces (not on a screen) and have this common experience helped me forget about COVID, if only for a couple of hours.

2021 gave me opportunity to travel again. In June, I spent time on two different rivers with students once again and experienced the thrill of rafting through some of the most beautiful places. I flew on a plane again for the first time since 2019 when we rafted down the Wild and Scenic Rogue River. When we arrived in Oregon, the 115 degree heat gave me a reminder of the reality of climate change. Shortly after our trip, massive wildfires in California and Oregon carried smoke to Colorado to again remind us that our planet is hurting. Unfortunately, the year ended with another reminder of this reality when two Colorado towns were taken by fire. I hope that 2022 will give us a chance to start living more sustainably. If it does, I hope we heed the opportunity.

In March, my four-legged friend Simon was taken after quickly succumbing to kidney disease. It was another loss that only compounded the damage of 2020. I couldn't stand to be in a state of mourning for long, though, and I had the chance to give Calypso a new home. She's not Simon, but I love her own unique style of playfulness and affection.

This school year has given me the chance to host another exchange student. I couldn't have asked for a better student than Emil. We've already had many adventures and we are looking forward to more in the second half of his exchange year. I appreciate his positivity and enthusiasm. Having him here has, in large part, redeemed what otherwise would have been another very challenging year.

2021 has given and taken so many other things as, I suppose, every year does. Several mass shootings that were way too close to home - in Boulder, Olde Town Arvada, and Lakewood - took the lives of community members, police officers, and others. This year gave our country a new president who has set a very different tone than the last president. The last day of the year took Betty White, the brilliant actress and comedian who was weeks away from being 100 years old. If I live to be 100 (or even 99), I hope that I have the same spirit and energy that she did until the end.

What I'm learning is that it's unfair to wholly categorize a year as "good" or "bad". There were a number of very difficult times in 2021 and just as many amazing experiences, too. We all know how challenging 2020 was. In retrospect, it has allowed me to enjoy the better parts of 2021 more than I would have otherwise. In the words of Alan Watts, "if, then, we are to be fully human and fully alive and aware, it seems that we must be willing to suffer for our pleasures."

Like every year, I have no idea what 2022 will bring, and that's okay. It will be another year of give and take, of good and bad, and I will do my best to be present for each part.

Happy New Year.

Here We Go

Here we go.

These are the words I heard many times over the speaker while riding the Amtrak train to Grand Junction a couple of weeks ago. One of the conductors finished each announcement by saying "here we go". At first, it was funny. I'm not sure he even realized that he said it. It was just habit. After analyzing it some more (as I do), I started to find so much more meaning in those words. I could hear his excitement when describing what was coming up around the corner - even though he's probably made this trip dozens of times or more. His enthusiasm was contagious.

Life has started to reboot over the past several months. Although the COVID pandemic still lingers constantly in our minds, we're starting to learn to live with it. In my New Years Eve post last year, I listed the things I was looking forward to in 2021 and, fortunately, they're coming to fruition.

Last weekend, I graduated from the Audubon Community Naturalist training that I started a year ago. It was a fun and informative program, and a saving grace in a year otherwise filled with cancelled plans. Finishing the program was a good bookend for the last year. Now, I get to look forward. I'm not sure how I'll use the training, but I'm glad to have had the experience. Here we go.

In July of 2020, I learned that my exchange student Filip would not be able to have his experience in the US. It was devastating for me as I'm sure it was for him. I already have a trip planned to go to Norway next summer where I hope to finally meet him in person. I also have student trips planned to Ecuador and Washington, D.C. to make up for the other trips that were cancelled. God willing, I'll be exploring the world again in a few short months with students. Here we go.

In February, I got to talk to my current exchange student for the first time. When I saw Emil's profile, I could tell he would be a great student. It was a long five months waiting to meet him in person, so I can only imagine his level of anticipation. He arrived in Colorado just over a month ago and we've already been able to have some great adventures, including the train trip to Grand Junction. I'm continually impressed with how kind, mature, thoughtful, and positive he is. One of the reasons why I like having exchange students is that I get to experience so many "firsts" with them. I'm so used to all of our American idiosyncrasies that I don't realize how foreign they seem to the rest of the world. It forces me to slow down and appreciate the little things, too. Emil still has nine more months of fun and adventures and I'm so grateful that he was able to come this year.

Here we go.

Man's Best Friend

First, let me say, it's not just dogs...

I was at the vet with my cat Simon yesterday for the third time in as many months. When I took him in for a well-check in January, I found out that he has chronic kidney disease (which is common in older cats) that will eventually be fatal. I was told that he could live with it for a few months to several years.

Anybody who has ever had a pet knows the value of their companionship. That has been especially true in the last year as we deal with the COVID pandemic. While a cat or dog isn't a substitute for human connection, they are far better at some things than many humans. They show unconditional, non-judgmental acceptance. They're great listeners and trustworthy confidants. This makes it all the more difficult when a pet is sick.

As I waited in the parking lot at the vet for my appointment (customers can't go inside because of COVID), I saw a number of families drop off and pick up their dogs and cats. I was fascinated at how well some of the animals matched their owners. I wondered why each person was there - some likely just getting a vaccine or a physical exam. At one point, though, a family of four came out - a mom, dad, and a teenaged son and daughter. They came out of the clinic without an animal and I watched as the mom wiped tears from her eyes. The only time humans are allowed inside right now is when a pet is being euthanized. I wondered what family member they had just lost. Maybe the dog that the kids got as a puppy and grew up with? I remembered losing my family's black lab, Onyx.

I wish our pets could outlive us to spare the grief we feel each time this happens. I suppose it would only be selfish to ask our pets to maintain that level of loyalty for longer than they already do.

The Day I Brought Simon Home

I adopted Simon from the Humane Society the day after Thanksgiving in 2014. According to his microchip, he was already six years old when he was found as a stray. I've always wondered what the first six years of his life were like and what happened to his first owner(s).

When I went inside the Humane Society, Simon immediately caught our attention because of his playfulness and personality. I've always said that he acts more like a dog than a cat. I taught him how to give me a high five to get a treat. He often greets me at the front door with a meow when I come home from work. He loves to get into cabinets and chew on things he shouldn't (mostly plastic bags for some reason).

In the last week, Simon's health declined. He stopped eating for a few days and I wasn't seeing his playful, curious personality.

While I waited in my car last night, the doctor finally came out and told me that Simon's kidneys are failing and it's time to consider letting him go.

Today was my last day with Simon. When we got home last night, I spoiled him with a bunch of treats and a bowl of milk. He slept next to me last night, as usual. He ate some food this morning and sat with me on the couch. This afternoon, I could tell he was in pain. It was clear that I needed to say goodbye.

Every time he would perk up or do something that reminded me of his usual self, I couldn't help but second guess myself. I got to hold him in the clinic, though, as I watched him pass peacefully.  It truly was peaceful as I felt sadness and relief for him at the same time.

I'll miss coming home to him every day but I am forever thankful that I found him before somebody else did on that day in November.

I love you Simon.

Intentions

One year ago, I reflected on the end of a decade. I was surprised at how much had changed in my life and in our world in 10 years. Little did I know that, in a few short months, the world would be brought to its knees by a virus that I had only heard of in passing.

This has been, without contest, the most challenging year I have experienced in my lifetime. At New Years, it's traditional to look back on the past year and to make "resolutions" for the year to come. It's difficult to remember the anxiety, the loss, and disappointment that came with 2020 and I've never been much of a new years resolutions kind of guy.

As I sit here, though, on December 31st, I recognize the many silver linings of the past year. 2020 started with some fun adventures: New Years Eve in downtown Denver, road trips to Mount Rushmore, the Badlands, and skiing at Monarch. I had a few more months with Ramón, my exchange student. Once the pandemic hit, I was able to spend the most time with my family that I had since finishing high school. Although the year did not look at all how we had planned, it did provide opportunity for me to take on several new pursuits. I've been able to spend more time outside and practice my photography. I started learning to play piano. I enrolled in a year-long naturalist training class. I became an International Exchange Coordinator and found my first host family for next year. More recently, I started working on improving my Spanish with the Duolingo App. None of these things would have happened if 2020 had gone as planned.

So, while I'm not making any resolutions for the new year, I do have intentions. Intentions to continue learning, practicing, and bettering myself. Intentions to keep pursuing the things that brought me joy in 2020.

My plans for 2021 are many. I look forward to our new president taking office in a few weeks and, hopefully, changing the tone in our country. I eagerly await my turn to get the vaccine that will, with any luck, bring an end to the pandemic. I am excited for the opportunity to travel again; to host another exchange student; to get back to in-person school so that I can see my students face-to-face; to sit in my favorite coffee shops and people-watch; to eat at my favorite restaurants; to go to Rockies games and enjoy the long summer days; and to see my friends and family without fear of getting sick.

I know that none of these things are guaranteed. We've learned that lesson all too well this year. I have also learned that we can make the best of our circumstances, regardless of what happens. I intend to continue doing that in 2021. My words from my January 1st, 2020 blog post now seem almost prophetic (just change "ten years" to one):

If I had the choice to see ten years into the future, I don’t think that I would. But it’s nice to look back and see all that can happen in ten years – the good and the bad. It helps me to remember two things. 1) If times are good, cherish it. Change happens quickly. 2) If times are hard, be patient. Change happens quickly.

Happy New Year everyone. Here's to what's ahead.

Birds of a Feather

"You can observe a lot by just watching." One of Yogi Berra's famous quips.

With the weather being unseasonably nice last week and being home before it gets dark (thanks to remote schooling again), I was able to continue my evening walks that I started last summer to help lift my spirits through this pandemic. On a few of those walks, there were hundreds - if not thousands - of geese in and around the pond that I frequent.

I see geese all the time but I've never really watched their behavior very closely until this week. They caught my attention when a few of them dropped from the sky to land in the pond right in front of me. I was fascinated with how skilled they were at maneuvering through the air. Their wings curved toward the ground to slow themselves down and their webbed feet popped out right as they touched down on the water. They reminded me of 747s at the airport with their flaps down as the landing gear extends and the plane gently rolls across the runway. I used to listen to the air traffic at the airport on my dad's scanner and I learned about how the runways have different numbers depending on which way the planes approach. That depends on the direction of the wind. As the next group of geese came in for a landing, I noticed that they, too, circled around the pond before they all landed in the same direction - using the wind to ensure a smooth and steady approach. I suppose they learned that trick long before the Wright brothers.

To think that we as humans are able to fly - albeit with the help of aluminum and some jet fuel - because somebody took time to observe the birds. How many other things might we discover if we were to stop and look? I think of our current situation with the coronavirus pandemic. Because people have taken the time to observe and understand how our immune system works and learned to replicate it in a lab, we will likely have a vaccine in the near future that will allow us to return to normal and save many lives. 

Last week, I attended an online class through Audubon about Aldo Leopold. He was known for his love of nature and his most famous book is mostly a collection of his observations. I decided to follow his example and watch the geese for a while longer. As I did, my head filled with questions. I noticed as dozens more geese flew overhead that only a few of them dropped out and landed in the pond. Why did those individuals join the group in the water while the rest continued on? Were they planning to catch up with the other group later or was that they last time they would ever fly with those particular geese? Were all of the geese in the area part of a larger group that would eventually reconvene and move on to the next stop or do they move from group to group as they please? As the new geese landed in the pond, none of the others protested. They continued on in search for food or perhaps just resting their wings for the next long flight. When another group few overhead, the honks would get louder and I wondered what they were communicating.

It's difficult to not put our human thoughts and emotions on animals. I suppose the geese's primary concern is survival, especially in November when food is scarce and the weather can turn at any moment. But, I couldn't help wondering if we could learn something from their interactions. The geese accepted newcomers each time they arrived and they didn't exclude the geese who looked different
(contrary to the story of the ugly duckling). Yesterday, there was one goose that stuck out like a sore thumb. Its feathers were mostly white, probably a result of leucism (a genetic mutation that causes a lack of pigmentation), but it swam around with the others like it was no big deal. When the geese fly, they take turns leading their V formation so that the others can fly in their draft, conserve energy, and communicate. Their instincts and their natural behaviors help each other to survive and to thrive.

At one point, hundreds of geese in the field nearby took off simultaneously and started flying in the same direction. There was a symphony of honking as they circled around and flew toward the mountains. What made them decide to go at that moment? How did they all know? Was there a leader, or group of leaders, who made the decision? Where were they going next?

This year has forced me to slow down. It's helped me to notice more and to ask more questions. That's the best way to learn.

I encourage you slow down this week and look more closely at the world around you. It has a lot to teach us.