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.

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.

Friluftsliv

The titles of my last few posts have come rather serendipitously (shpilkes, ancora imparo). I learn a new word or phrase that describes what I've been writing about and it confirms for me that I must have needed to process that idea. This post is no different.

Two words this week that resonated with me - friluftsliv and desideratum.

Language is such a powerful thing. It allows us to communicate with others, but it also allows us to communicate with ourselves. When we expand our vocabulary, we expand our capacity to make sense of the world.  My friend Brett shared an article last week about the concept of friluftsliv. This is a Norwegian word that basically means "open air living." Norwegians are known for their love of nature. They recognize the importance of being connected to nature and taking care of the Earth.

For several years now, my interest in nature and spending time outside has continued to grow. I've read a lot about how time in nature is beneficial for our physical and mental health (I even published an article about it). During the last eight months of this COVID pandemic, I would say that spending time outside - friluftsliv - has been the main thing that has gotten me through. Between short walks in the evenings by myself and longer hikes with friends this summer and fall, I've been able to process my thoughts and emotions - grief, disappointment, anticipation, anger, worry, hope, wonder. At other times, going outside has allowed me to slow my thoughts and just be present. The year-long Audubon Naturalist class I started this month has allowed me to exercise my legs and my mind. Last week, I was also able to visit Rocky Mountain National Park with some friends and put my worries on a shelf for the day.

It is fascinating to me how things often seem to come together regardless of our actions (and sometimes despite them); how contradicting situations can happen simultaneously; and how challenging moments in life can be redeemed.

Here's what I mean:

The Loch in RMNP

One of the biggest disappointments for me this year was the cancelation of my Norwegian student's exchange year. Ironically, the thing that has helped me most through this difficult year is the Norwegian philosophy of friluftsliv.

As my friends and I hiked through Rocky Mountain National Park last week (practicing friluftsliv) to escape the monotony of life in a pandemic, we were greeted by 50+ mph winds and a plume of smoke filled the sky from the largest recorded wildfire in Colorado history. Yet, I was still able to experience the beauty of creation and feel at peace when we reached the lake at the top of the trail. Plus, I was able to use my national park pass one more time before it expires next month.

What's more ironic, those fires that continue to burn much of our state, while devastating, have created some of the most beautiful sunsets I've seen in a while.

My Owl Visitor

The COVID pandemic has taken away so much from all of us, but it's also given me permission to slow down, to try new things, and to prioritize what's important. I was sitting outside a cafe across the street from my apartment one evening a few weeks ago - something that I would not have been doing if it weren't for "social distancing" - when a great horned owl (my favorite animal) flew above my head and landed on the roof next to me. Sometimes it's the little things that count.

On a larger scale, I started writing this blog last October, one year ago this month. In my second post in early November, I talked about how October has for many years been my least favorite month: shorter, colder days, the end of summer, falling leaves that represent death and dormancy, less travel and adventure, and the beginning of the long, cold winter. Well, looking back, last October was actually the beginning of several great adventures I had with my exchange student Ramón. Adventures to the Grand Canyon, five other National Parks, and Mount Rushmore. All of those happened in the fall and winter. This spring and summer were by far more challenging.

My perspective on October - and on life in general - has changed this year. Although Colorado is currently experiencing its highest number of confirmed COVID cases, there is also the hope of a potential vaccine on the horizon. Although our country has become more divided in recent years - politically, socially, and economically - there is also the prospect of electing new leadership. Leadership that will hopefully prioritize solutions for the pandemic and recognize the urgent need to protect our planet and the diverse people who live on it. Neither of those things is guaranteed, but I'm feeling optimistic that this October may be the start of a shift to something better.

The other thing I'm learning is that friluftsliv isn't just for a season. The onset of winter doesn't have to mean the pause of getting outside. As they say in Norway "there is no bad weather, only bad clothing." October may not be my favorite month and winter may not be my favorite season but, as I mentioned above, most of my favorite memories from the last year happened last winter. My adventure to RMNP last week reminded me that life is what I make of it and, even with the things that I can't control, things work out how they should.

One of the reasons I wanted to visit RMNP last week was to try taking some photos of the Milky Way at night. Although the photos that I got are not award-winning and it was freezing standing outside in the dark, I felt exhilarated staring at the sky and capturing that moment in time. It represents perfectly the state of uncertainty in which we're currently living. On the left side are the mountains, the sky, and the dependable stars that have glowed for millions of years. On the right side is the reminder of the fire that's burning just over the horizon. We don't know when it will burn out or how much damage it will do in the process, but it can't extinguish the stars behind it.

Night Sky in RMNP - Glowing on the horizon from the Cameron Peak Fire

This photo reminded me of one of my favorite poems. It's a poem that my mom has always loved and that she shared with my sisters and me when we were younger. The title of the poem, Desiderata, was my other serendipitous word for this week. As I sat down to proof-read this post before publishing it, I noticed an email in my inbox from dictionary.com with today's word of the day:

After my goosebumps subsided, I read this excerpt from the poem again and smiled. I'll end with this in hopes that it brings you a smile as well.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy. 

-Desiderata, Max Ehrmann

 

 

Ancora Imparò

Ancora imparò - Italian for "I'm still learning." A fellow zoo volunteer taught me that phrase recently and I think it fits me well.

If you read my last post, Shpilkes, you know that I've been contemplating ways to keep myself busy, engaged, and challenged; especially as we continue to deal with the COVID-19 pandemic. This is how I operate: any time that I am feeling restless or unfulfilled, I find something new to try. I've always loved learning new skills and it's easy for me to find interest in most topics. I suppose I want to be a renaissance man, a Michelangelo or Da Vinci.

Well, over the past few weeks, I've committed myself to a few new pursuits. Three, to be exact:

1) I've always wanted to learn to play guitar, piano, and drums, but I've never taken the first step to learn any of them. When Ramón, my exchange student last year, came to Colorado, I bought a new digital piano for him to practice. I thought that, if I make the investment, it will finally motivate me to learn. Listening to him play made me even more eager to start. I found a music school in Colorado that does lessons virtually and I'm now almost a month into playing. I get excited to play in the evenings after work because I want to progress quickly. I'm already getting better at playing some scales and a few tunes.

2) I have been on a waitlist for Denver Audubon's Community Naturalist Training for over two years now. I've never signed up because it has always conflicted with something else I am doing. It is a year-long course that covers things like geology, ecology, botany, meteorology, insects, birds, mammals, and all sorts of other animals. Once I finish the class, I am excited to use what I learn when volunteering at the zoo, as an educator (maybe start doing some wilderness therapy), or even in new roles as a naturalist guide or park interpreter. If nothing else, it will enhance my own experiences and observations when I am in nature.

3) I was so disappointed to learn a few weeks ago that my exchange student from Norway will not be able to have his exchange year because of COVID. I am hopeful that we can find another way to connect and for him to still experience Colorado and the US.
    Last year, while Ramón was here, I was encouraged to consider becoming an International Exchange Coordinator (IEC). In this role, I look for families in the community who are willing to host a high school student, help find students to match with these families, and support the students and families during the exchange year. Last week, I started my IEC application. I have also started looking for another student to host next school year. It seems like so long from now, but I am excited for students to come to the US again and I am hopeful that things will be better next fall. My experience as a host parent last year taught me a lot - about another culture, about myself, about being a parent. I am excited for the experience of hosting again and for the chance to experience it from another role.

Taking on these new things has made me more optimistic about the upcoming school year and about the future in general. While I know that there will still be some challenges - potentially some very big challenges - I am finding ways to make the best of an unfortunate situation. In fact, if it weren't for COVID putting a halt on much of my life over the past five months, I would probably not be doing the things I mentioned above. Life takes us in unexpected directions sometimes, and that's not always a bad thing.

People are afraid to pursue their most important dreams, because they feel that they don't deserve them, or that they'll be unable to achieve them. We, their hearts, become fearful just thinking of loved ones who go away forever, or of moments that could have been good but weren't, or of treasure that might have been found but were forever hidden in the sands. Because, when these things happen, we suffer terribly... The fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself. No heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dreams, because every second of the search is a second's encounter with God and with eternity.

-Paulo Coelho 

I recently read The Alchemist for the second time. I finished it in one day. It's a short book and it's easy to absorb in one sitting.

That book kept coming to mind because I remembered the feelings it stirred up in me the first time I read it. With all of the soul searching I've had time to do this summer, I needed some inspiration. I feel that I have several things in common with the main character, Santiago. He loves to travel and experience new adventures, and he spends a lot of time contemplating the meaning of things. He is a philosopher of sorts. He has many interests, too, and he has tried a number of different jobs. He doesn't consider his job his purpose in life; more of a means to an end. However, that doesn't keep him from working hard and appreciating the things he learns from each of his roles.

Santiago learns of the Personal Journey and he goes on a quest to fulfill his. On his journey, he is robbed a few times. He has to cross a desert to reach his goal. He meets a number of people and learns several new skills along the way. Several times, he doubts himself and he considers going back to his old life as a shepherd.

The past several months have felt like a desert. We've all been robbed of many things - time with people we love, rites of passage, long anticipated trips or events, and more. We are all learning to be more resilient.

Ultimately, Santiago meets the alchemist, a man who has learned the impossible task of transforming lead into gold. He gives Santiago direction and a renewed sense of purpose.

We may still have some miles to go before we're out of this desert, but I'm looking for ways to transform the experience. The desert is still part of the journey and, even in the desert, I can learn something new. Ancora imparò.

This is why alchemy exists, so that everyone will search for his treasure, find it, and then want to be better than he was in his former life. Lead will play its role until the world has no further need for lead; and then lead will have to turn itself into gold.

That's what alchemists do. They show that, when we strive to become better than we are, everything around us becomes better, too.

-Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot

One thing I like about social media is the ability to look back on posts and pictures from years ago. I’ve found a few recently that have put things into perspective for me: a photo of my empty apartment six and a half years ago, the day before I moved in; a photo of the 1988 Dodge Caravan that my family had and I drove for several years in high school and college; photos of trips to Washington, D.C., San Diego, Scranton, Spain, Wisconsin, and more; and photos with many of my old Young Life kids who are now adults, married, and have their own kids.

Today is the last day of 2019. It hadn’t even occurred to me until recently that it’s also the end of a decade. I realize that days, months, and years are just arbitrary time stamps that we have created, but they help us to bookend different stages of our lives and to categorize an otherwise endless stretch of time. I remember the hype of Y2K twenty years ago and then the realization that it was just like any other New Year. Even so, I think it’s important to reflect on our past and be grateful for our experiences. The end of a decade seems like a good time to do just that.

Normally, on New Years Eve, I think about what I’ve done over the past year. For me, this year has been exciting. I’ve traveled to new places including Belize and Hawaii, I’ve seen the Grand Canyon and several other National Parks, I went rafting on the Oregon coast, I’m hosting my exchange student, Ramon, and my nephew Gabriel (who I will get to meet in March) was born. However, when I look back on the past decade, it is astounding to think about how much has changed.

Ten years ago, I had not even met most of the people who I have spent the most time with over the past several years. I had just moved out of my apartment (next door to where I live now) and would live in three other places before coming back to where I am now. I had not starting working as a school counselor yet and, in fact, I was only half way through graduate school (for the first time). I had not started volunteering at the zoo yet. Only one of my three nephews and nieces was born (and he was less than a year old). I wouldn’t be diagnosed with Crohn’s disease for another three years. I didn’t have my cat Simon yet. My hairline hadn’t started receding. I was only six years into my 16 years as a Young Life leader. I was still using an iPod for music and an LG Voyager with a keyboard as my phone. Instagram and Snapchat didn’t exist yet and Barack Obama was less than a year into his presidency.

I couldn’t predict ten years ago where I would be today and I have no idea what the world will look like in another ten years. It’s hard to imagine what new inventions there will be or what version of the iPhone will be out. I don’t know if I’ll be working at the same place or doing something completely different. I know that there will be some great times and some hard times over the next decade and that creates a variety of emotions for me. 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.

What has changed for you in the past ten years? What are you looking forward to in the next decade?