Last weekend, I spent three perfect days in Telluride for a close friend’s wedding at Schmid Ranch near Mount Wilson. The golden aspens stretching up to the wild and unpredictable sky, snow covered mountains surrounding the valley the ranch was nestled into, a dozen of my beautiful friends in attendance all so excited for the bride, and my handsome date, a wonderful man I’ve been lucky enough to have in my life for four months now.
I recently starting rereading Diane Ackerman’s A Natural History of the Senses, which I read for the first time approximately two years ago. The book is an exquisite and vivid journey through our five senses and how they guide and influence our interactions with the world around us. It’s a beautiful piece of writing that serves as a reminder of the importance of literally stopping to smell the roses. Today, I did that. After a morning session of restorative yoga in the planetarium that left me with an almost unbearable desire to pack up the car and drive straight to the Badlands or Moab to be alone with my senses, I settled for a three hour solo hike into the forest and canyons at the base of the Flatirons. The air, earth, and plants were still damp with the heavy spring rain that soaked the whole region on Friday. Such a rich humidity on a rainless day is rare treat in Boulder, as is the sound of rushing water and a nearly empty hiking trail only 15 minutes outside town. The luxury of the experience filled me with emotion and also got me to thinking about how my own senses have been heightened and tantalized since I removed myself from a relationship that was breaking my soul and forcing me to suppress a desire for rich experiences in order to simply get by from day to day. Restorative yoga helps you be present in your sense of self, but the other five senses are every bit as important. Here is what has been influencing mine lately. Continue reading →
What else are people writing in the A to Z Blog Challenge? Check out today’s featured blog, sponsored by the letter R: Relax-N-Rave. I just love this post on obsolete decor. Shaggy carpets, bean bag chairs, massive TV consoles – yup, we had that all growing up and no one should have them now.
Who says that moving from a crowded metropolitan hot spot to an isolated hilltop means that life is going to be that different? Life is going on pretty much as before.
Well, maybe there are minor differences. Like deciding which outdoor view I want when I’m working at home – Boulder valley, the forested peak of Arkansas Mountain (not to be confused with Mt. Arkansas, also in Colorado), the burned-out hills of Four Mile Canyon, or our courtyard garden. Or like realizing I can walk the perimeter of my house in the morning coffee cup in hand, wearing nothing, but, well, wearing nothing. Continue reading →
OK, I realize I’m really stretching here to make the letter N work. I had a legit topic for the letter N, but based on my experience last night, I decided a change was in order and that I was going to make what I wanted to say work with N no matter what.
Last night I saw the Stone Temple Pilots in concert. That’s right – STP of Plush, Creep, and Interstate Love Song fame. Scott Weiland no longer sings with them. Their current lead singer is Chester Bennington from Linkin Park.
Let’s just pause for a minute to think about how strange that is. To be the singer of a band that started its rise just as the heyday of STP was ending. Did Chester ever admire Scott and dream of being like him some day? Was he a kid in an STP audience at some point, fantasizing about when it would be his turn in the spotlight? Even if not, it’s got to be odd to be a star in your own right and then be asked to fill someone else’s shoes. Continue reading →
Given yesterday’s post, I think it would be too easy to choose coffee as my letter C mistake. I was definitely wrong to not like coffee at first, and I was really, REALLY wrong in my early thirties when I gave it up for a whole year, but I’m going to write about cassette tapes instead.
When I was young, I earned a small allowance for doing household chores, and after I grew too old to want to spend my money on stuffed animals, I wanted to spend it on music. There was always a lot of music in my house. My dad had managed an electronics store for a while and had always enjoyed finding broken equipment at garage sales and fixing it up. Between that and the crates of records that he rescued from people’s lawns, there wasn’t even room in our garage for a bicycle, much less two cars. But on the plus side, we had a great stereo system in the house and there was always music playing. Pretty early on, I got the bug to build my own collection. Continue reading →