An Intervention

My fifth day into my forced technology-free week at camp, I woke up in a grouchy, wrong side of the bed, mood. I slumped on the deck and drank in my coffee along with the scents of the lake. Watching the antics of birds on the water below, which normally is calming, only decreased my spirits. My restless fingers silently typed out words in the breezy wind … itching for an online connection: Facebook, e-mail, Pinterest, anything. I felt so insanely disconnected to what I thought was a necessary part of life.

Feeling defeated by my obsession, I curled up on the cool Naugahyde covered couch to escape my attitude and put finishing touches on my sleep. An hour later, woke in a stormy hypnogogic state – I needed a fix.

Vowing, out loud to the room, I swore to never again make a computer-free “pact” with my family. I wasn’t remotely prepared for this intervention and didn’t even bring a notepad! I was struggling, and knew it, but also willing to work through this horrible fixation on technology.

The Search

The “interventionists” were out on the lake, so, I drove alone to a local market to seek out the perfect notebook, so at least I could feel in some control of my habit and have a tactile moment with paper and pen.

Hidden in a pile of notebooks was a lovely, faux brown leather pad with a yellow and brown plaid interior – rather funky. Smelling the paper was an out-of-body experience. Also discovered not one but three extra fine point multi-colored pens, which I snapped up, as new words needed new pens, and would satisfy and calm my addiction. People who like pens are particular, for the most part. I’m into the extra-fine because my words needed to be thinly written to flow smoothly and effortlessly from brain to paper. My family would not dare argue with my purchase.

Morsels and Coffee

I discovered a new to me coffee shop called Morsels, sat in a comfortable chair with my homemade lapboard, ordered strong coffee (and some morsels) – words flowed out.

Amazingly, the distraction of using pen to paper for two hours lessened my desire for being online. 

On the way back to camp, I stopped to see a friend with whom I shared my technology free attempt for the week. She warmly welcomed me into rehabilitation - her beautiful store - where she smothered me with a counselor’s understanding and compassion, generously giving me the resolve needed to make it through my commitment. Is this what friends are for? Absolutely!

What I Learned

I knew I didn’t have to take on the “advice” of my family but think they were right to request I give phone calls and writing on the computer a break. The week ended with an abundance of special and peaceful memories … very likely due to not being tethered to my devices. I participated more in discussions, game playing, kayaking. I learned a lot about myself during the week and believe that the tactile writing from pen to paper used a different part of my brain. The lack of connection provided a quiet “not knowing” what was going on in the world. This was needed and highly refreshing.

I’ll never fully give up having online connections, as my special group activities from various sites help plan my days and adds interest to my calendar. But, an occasional vacation from technology, absolutely, as doing so adds embellishments along with unexpected ideas and activities. 

A Squirrel, Peanut Butter, and Zen

A chubby squirrel appeared to be in a zen attitude, sprawled on a tree branch in our front yard, chittering commands at our intrusion. Lifts his paw every once in awhile as if giving me a High Five. An exceptional example of chilling with his head resting on his paws … tail curled over his back snuggling down. Ah, Zen.

A short time passed and I saw him leaving his limb as someone tossed a jar of peanut butter from their car (hopefully, for him). Squirrel was quite happy pulling this delightful gift from heaven up into the tree nook where he thoroughly enjoyed the chunky morsels, reaching into the jar to scrape up the last delicious remnants. Then, like a gentleman, returning it exactly where the treat was found.

On the human hand, we have a tendency to not “Zen Out” and be carefree - and we have short tails. Our brains are cluttered with stress before our toes have a chance to curl away from the morning blankets. Thoughts race thinking about our overly-scheduled day; heaven forbid trying to remove some of the wanna do into not wanna do. So we would rather stress and not have quiet time in which to recuperate from our busy lives.

Chill, Zen Out! Life is too short to spend it in planning and execution mode all the time. Hit the snooze button, gently stretch, breathe deeply, and inhale some excitement for the new day. Literally (or figuratively) salute it with an optimistic nod. Remember, that for the most part, we orchestrate our day and create our own positive or negative times.

Consider a new and relaxed routine in the evening.

• Open your front door, perchance it is nice outside, warm enough to sit on the porch or a camp chair in your yard.
• Imbibe in a pleasant drink of your choice!
• Light a candle (or have a campfire).
• Try a music app and discover the vast musical options. We use Spotify and listen to all manner of nature music, coffee shop tunes, energizing music.
• Breathe in, Breathe out – it really works for your stress levels … seriously!
• Too strange for the above? Then, have a nice conversation with a friend or family member. 
• Chuckle at the antics of a squirrel!!! :)
• Do what speaks peace to you, at least on occasion, this is vital to your soul.

The jar of peanut butter, neatly place on the sidewalk by squirrel

At least it wasn't a vampire!

One autumn evening a few days before Halloween our youngest daughter ran into my husband and my bedroom - screaming that there was a bat in her room.

We flew upstairs to the closed bedroom door and peeked in to see her sister cowering in the corner as this bat flew in circles, whooshing and emitting bat sounds, quite scary in an enclosed space. He followed the circling of the ceiling fan, around and around.

I am not afraid of bats and have met these flying creatures face-to-face a few other times.

One such occasion was along Lake Superior where my sister, her son, and I were going to stay at a family cabin for the weekend. We unpacked the car to the front of the cabin then opened the creaky door when a Yooper Bat, surely a vampire, flew directly at us. My sister’s feet did not touch the ground as she repacked the car, put her son in, rolled the windows up, and demanded we leave. “I never laughed so hard in my life!” the saying goes. I entered the cabin with a large pot over my head, as protection, and “saved” the weekend by ridding the building of this rather cute creature.

Back to our bat in the girl’s bedroom – my husband and I laid out the plan of attack. Being the “brave” one, I planned to enter the bedroom, rescue my other daughter, fairly new to America and our family … Welcome to America! And capture the bat – be the hero. Remember, I am not afraid of bats.

Gently pulling the door fully open allowing our daughter to escape, I panicked, shoved my husband into the room, slamming the door behind him. The girls screamed from horror as I held the door shut, holding my husband hostage to the bat.

In short order, he asked (begged) me to let him out – that he had captured the bat in a container.

He was the hero!

My idea – take the bat outside and release him. In our county, you should NOT do this as there is a high incidence of rabies in the local bat population - the health department informed us that if a child is woken up with a bat in their room, they have to assume the child has been bitten.

So, due to my uninformed decision our little girls were taken to the hospital where they endured, barely, painful rabies shots. Tears poured down their faces as we tried to comfort them during these assaults on their tender butts. One daughter had to be carried from the emergency room as the pain was debilitating to her. I was SO not the hero …

I’m known for reminding our children to make memories. As they share this story in the future, I’m positive they will not label me as their savior and hero. It took my husband to be one of those. But my negligence gave them a memory they will always have (can I be a pseudo hero for that?) I understand fully that the shots were painful, the experience frightening – but remembering it makes me smile, and grimace.

Camp outhouses, Marquette

A Season of Hope after the Polar Freeze

Michigan's winter was intense this year, long, snowy, and so, so cold! The frigidness was breath-taking, literally, and winds strong enough to take trees down and blow a person sideways. Other regions in the United States had it worse with storms, rain, rain, rain, mud slides, massive flooding, so I will not complain. 

The entire Upper Peninsula was hit with over 200 inches of snow. Yet, when I spoke with our Marquette aunt and uncle about how they were coping, they quipped with a twinge of humor, "what can ya do?" … "we had to rake the roof again" … "chip the thick ice off the driveway" … rumor is that their son and his family even built an igloo. My mid-70-year-old aunt then shared that she waded through the chest deep snow to help elderly neighbors by clearing ice and snow from outside ducts. She'd laugh about how she must have looked with snow "up to my boobs!" - we giggled, partly because she doesn't talk like this, partly because this is so her - helping and diving into the task. Such positivity coming down to us in mid-Michigan. Hardy doesn't even define the depth of countless Michigan Yoopers cheerfully enduring the Polar Freeze and raging snow this winter.

March arrived with the heart and roar of a lion! But, and thankfully, spring is squeaking in with bright blue skies and temperatures 30s-50s - we'll take it. Our snow and ice have mostly melted. Walking in the woods this week a herd of deer bounded away with their bright white tails flashing us in the grasses. My conservation steward daughter rescued a couple caterpillars walking across the trail - and heard the abundant varieties of birds - some scolding us as if we were intruding on their territory. A highlight was when my husband and daughter were graced to see the first platter-sized leather back turtle leisurely (and gleefully) swimming in the park's pond. Signs of hope.

Spring – a time of renewal, rainy weather clearing out the mushy snow, crocuses, promises of the rest of the year engulfed in tolerable climate, the smell of manure on the farmer's fields. The exquisite, tantalizing smell of blossoms. Bees, yes, don’t forget the buzz of bees and the heady happiness of birds and land creatures. Spring is a balm for the weary wintered soul, a fragrance of hope and continuity of life. I figuratively hug the aromas - even that of spring skunks, a certain sign of the changing season.

An Elusive Purpose

How do you find purpose, a drive, a reason to get up in the morning, during a "dry" time in your life?

Purpose feels elusive to me lately during this season of reevaluating old friendships, retirement, recuperating from an ankle break and tendonitis, and the annoying concern about my auto-immune process.  

I’ve always tried to be kind, helpful, positive. Where did I learn that to be would be adequate for a fulfilled existence? I strove to be - all my life – but it’s not working for me anymore. I need something more tangible.

My wood-walking in the past has brought clarity in my direction but due to a slow healing process have not ventured on a trail since the end of 2018. I miss quietly traipsing in Mother Nature’s warm embrace and wrapping her peace around my very soul – but also know that my return to the woods is imminent.

In the meantime, I am open spiritually, emotionally, and mentally as I spend time writing at coffee shops and bookstores, listening to inspirational music, and attending writing and accessible outdoor events. You could say I am on a quest – trying to capture or glimpse the “it” for which I seek.

(Questing - The act or an instance of seeking or pursuing something; a search.)

I would encourage you to place yourself in areas of your true or possible interests – listen – record, at least in your mind, what you might like to “accomplish” or attempt.

The following dreams have been fluttering around my thoughts and found some semblance of rooting into my gonna do it list this year. Do you have a list of your own?

• Self-publishing the story of our adoption from Russia
• Self-publishing a compilation of all our family newsletters, The Olsen Chronicles
• Walking portions of the North Country Trail
• Learn how to start a website, and begin one
• Photography editing eludes me, but I’m more than capable of learning enough to post better pictures on my blog
• Find a perfect place in which to volunteer – which has people to meet and so I can feel a part of something larger than myself
• Still be a good person and be kind

I received this e-mail from an old, cherished friend, who was an accomplished author and journalist – these words spoke directly to my heart. I carry her words around with me and cherish not only the encouragement she offered, but that she would take time to share it with me.

But, my dear Connie, I have read enough of what you have written - including numerous entries on your blog - to know that you already are a good writer!  You have a good command of the English language and a wonderful way of turning thoughts into words when you express an idea or tell a story. So, I would suggest that when you have a little time, pick a short topic that you're interested in, or something that you've experienced, and consider submitting some of your writing for publication.

Is This Why Woolly Mammoths are Extinct?

Our life is a line with commas, semi-colons, question marks, asterisks, and many exclamations. I am not ready to place a period on this special line as doing so will seem as if I am giving up on growth and experiences and, of course, making memories. 

This brings me to when I recently said, “yes, sure, why not” when my daughter found us a rustic cabin for a night’s stay in during this particularly difficult, windy, snowy and icy winter. There would be no electricity or running water, she tentatively warned.

The reasoning for this trip was to get closer to where she had to present a program early the next morning – when we knew the weather would change from miserable to almost dangerous. She knew I would not let her travel alone so asked me to go with her.

What do you pack for a night in a state park’s rustic cabin with no electricity, when wind gusts were predicted into the 30-50 mph range? Sleeping bags, blankets, water, lanterns, and games. My husband made me a fresh pot of coffee which he bundled up in a thermos. We were told there would be a vault toilet – excellent! But the night would be free as the camping had closed down for the season.

True to the weather report, we were blowing all over the place on our way to the cabin – entering the state park we still had to travel another almost two miles on icy roads to the farthest reaches. Our cabin, cozy, was situated on a higher spot along trails. We unpacked our supplies, claimed our spots to relax, and then booted up for a walk on the trail. Wind gusts were a good 35 mph at this time and the trails were icy, some impassible. As we stood on the trail we heard crunching noises and saw a golden lab come out of the snowy pathway with a man also exiting the surreal blizzard-like pathway. We chatted momentarily, his dog, Mika, licked at our hands but was eager to continue his hike with the master. That was the last contact with humanity we had! Now, we were on our own – my daughter and I – in the middle of nowhere. 

The evening was interesting as the trips to “the vault” were a production of bundling, grabbing a walking stick as the wind was wickedly trying to trip us up. My daughter read me a chapter in the science fiction book she was reading, and I read her a chapter of my current book. We chattered on as the wind whistled around the cabin, shaking the roof, and making everything white. Finally, bedtime, where we lay listening to the gusts, wondering if the cabin would hold up, knowing we were high so the wind could gain speed. It was almost a relief when my alarm went off and found my gear for a walk to the vault. The gusts had grown and iced the already icy path, the vault’s door had frozen shut so had to resort to viciously pulling, banging and pulling again on the door until finally it was free – just in time.

As we quickly packed up, both thinking of the long icy road we had to traverse to get through the park, we realized that indeed, we did create a memory. A winter night in the woods. We thought of my grandparents, Emil and Edna Olsen, who, with four of their kids, lived in a cabin for a time during the winter of 1938 in Marquette. We envisioned how it was probably the beginning of February where she was losing her mind with the small cabin, concerns, the horrible winter she had to endure while my grandfather worked every day. I think it made us closer to her, but also glad for our current conveniences.

My daughter and I will put this memory on our timeline. We camped out in winter, survived, and, had a good time. 

Think about your time line – what do you want on it this year? Are you eager to explore? 

The Power of the But

“He that is good for making excuses is seldom good for anything else." 

Benjamin Franklin

A woman was interviewed on a radio program – she was very insistent that she could not do anything healthy or positive for herself – interjecting the excuse of the but at every question asked by the host, a psychologist. My first thought - what life experiences were behind her forceful but?

We can and do get away with a good but in plenty of occasions. BUT, did you know that a good resounding but can and will cease growth and movement in our physical, mental, emotional, or spiritual health? What’s going on behind your personal but – making it such a powerful excuse? Was this guest abused, neglected, hated, not supported, dismissed in her timeline, giving her the great excuse of her but, but, but. Using her but made her miss an awful lot of life.

Turning the other cheek - know that there are many socially acceptable uses of your but. I would love to go out with you tonight but my child is in a play and I need to be there. Or, I wish I could join you, but my husband and I are going on a date. 

Yes, we all deserve to use an occasional but – we’re exhausted, over-extended, just want to stay home and read – no explanations needed. But I hope we can be more aware of our but’s history, and also of how our but has hindered us. 

Consider taking more chances. People are onto your but over time – so cut back on excuses, be brave, don’t miss wonderful opportunities. Fear can bring out a but in the best of us. I, for one, want to live free from the confines of my but.

I agree that using a hearty but is powerful – yes, I use it, but something that has helped me was making plans with family and friends so I had to be accountable and trustworthy, and make me aware of my but. In the exercise realm, I found that by doing this I created internal and external motivations to walk or bike – and was counted on. 

As a side note, my but began to recede over time – and am proud of being a fairly reliable person.