Lesson in Nature #5: Do Not Let Yourself Get Puss Heels (And Yes, They Are As Bad As They Sound)

“Exactly, what are puss heels?” you may be asking yourself in trepidatious horror. We’ll get there. Don’t worry. All I can tell you, right now, is that you probably don’t want them. Trust me.

It all started innocently enough. I was excited for my first mountain backpacking trip in the west. I had boots from back east that were broken in, plenty of supplies, and a group of great traveling companions.

About four miles into a twenty-something mile trip I was keenly aware of a burning sensation on my right heel (what’s known as a hotspot for non-hikers).

“No big deal. I’ve had hotspots before. I’ll just check it later,” I thought.

I was with 15 other people and did not want to slow down the group. I did not want to be that person. You know, the one who complains and whines the entire trip. The person who is the reason you don’t make it to camp until 9 or 10 at night.

“Boy, this hurts, but I’m sure we’ll stop soon enough,” I kept telling myself.

When we stopped, I took off my boot and the hotspot on my heel had turned into a quarter size puss ball. Frick. I still had at least another 15 miles to hike, three days in the backcountry, and a lot more uphill until I returned to civilization.

In the course of the next three days I crafted about 16 different types of blister paddings, wrappings, splints, hell, that blister had its own name and mansion of gauze, duct tape, mole skin, and antibiotic ointment. Blisters are not something you want to ignore in the backcountry. I was lucky it did not get infected, but several years later I still have a scar from that blister covering most of my right heel.

How often do you go through life not wanting to say something or speak up for yourself when you start feeling a “hotspot”? How often do you risk your own well-being and let it get to the point where you have puss heels because you don’t want to cause a small disruption with your friends, family, or co-workers?

My advice. Listen to yourself. Stop a little sooner. Check out the irritation. Believe me, dealing with a hotspot is a heck of a lot easier than dealing with puss heels.

Dedicated to my first mountain backpacking buddy, Jess Whitehurst.

Earth Day 2011: Unless

I don’t do well with guilt as a motivator.  I’m assuming you probably don’t either.  It feels terrible to be told that unless you stop brushing your teeth you’re going to be the reason why we have no rivers in the West, unless you stop using toilet paper the infamous red toothed sloth will be extinct in five years, unless you quit your job and join Missionary Life Corp, kids in Africa will starve to death.  Don’t get me wrong.  I believe that there are things happening in the world that need more awareness and tender love and care, but I don’t think shaming and guilt are the ways to cultivate the peace, understanding, and consideration that we ultimately want for the things we care about.  When motivated by guilt we just feel hopeless about the sloth, the toilet paper, the rivers, and the kids; stymied into inaction.

I learned many years ago in Organic Chemistry that like attracts like.   What I’ve noticed since then is that principle extends beyond Chemistry. Yelling and violence tend to attract fear and more yelling and violence.  Calm and understanding attract conversation and more calm and understanding.  If we want something to change or we want to protect something we care about we do need to bring awareness to those things.  However, the energy and intention in which we bring that awareness might be key to it being heard.

On this Earth Day take a moment to look around and acknowledging the elements of the earth that you care about.  Is there a place you love to ride your bike, a local soccer field where your kids play, a small backyard garden where you chill on the weekends, a green parenting group you belong to?  Share these things you love with the people in your life.

When we respect, support, and cherish the things we think are important in our lives we bring awareness.  It’s only with awareness that we bring continued support, hope, change, and understanding.

I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Happy Earth Day 2011!

Just a few earthy things I love:

• Orion Magazine
• Mary Oliver Poems
• Wyoming Wilderness Association
• Green Bean Babies
• Green Parenting Association
• Outdoor Yoga
• Backpacking
• Soulcraft by Bill Plotkin
• Teton Science Schools
• The Platte River Parkway

If you are interested in supporting eco friendly non-profits and enjoying tips on how to lead a more grounded and centered life click here to find out more about the teleclass, Simply Grounded, I’m holding Thurs 4/28!

Lesson in Nature #1: Nature Doesn’t Give a Flying Leap Who You Are Or How Many Friends You Have on Facebook

Lessons in Nature

I have learned a lot of things in nature; some practical, some metaphorical, some humbling and grounding.  Things that are easy to forget because we have created a concrete reality based on jobs, houses, status, and stuff.  We’ve forgotten how to be outside, how to be ourselves, and that we are part of something bigger.  Nothing like the forces of nature to remind us…

Lesson in Nature #1

Nature Doesn’t Give a Flying Leap Who You Are Or How Many Friends You Have on Facebook

The trees, majestic mountains, rolling oceans, awe inducing animals are all unaware of how cool, popular, or successful you are. Nature also doesn’t seem to care about how insecure you might feel, your bad self-esteem moments, or your lack of current employment; a potential bruise to the ego, but completely freeing in many ways.  You can be exactly who you are in nature.  No need to impress. No need to put on false pretenses and pretend to be someone you’re not. Hell, you don’t even need to put on make-up or do your hair. The birds don’t care, nor do the oceans, trees, or animals.  You’re perfect in this greater scheme of things.  Don’t forget it.

Stay tuned for more of Nature’s lessons.  She’s wise peeps.

Nature’s Invitation

“Everything in nature invites us constantly to be what we are.” – Gretel Ehrlich

At 6am I looked at the mountain…and didn’t see it.  It was still there, just hiding behind a cloud of snow.  In stillness of a dark spring morning, the sound of Robins ushered me to the car, yoga mat and hot tea in hand.  Yesterday, I headed to Camp Sacajawea, on Casper Mountain, to share yoga with a group of high school students from Star Lane.

Yurts where the students slept

Seeing as my tagline is Yoga. Nature. Breath., I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to teach yoga to a group of ladies and gentlemen who had spent the night on a mountain…in yurts. Those kids are hardy, and for most of them it was their first time on cross country skis, sleeping in a yurt, and doing yoga.  I commend their teachers, Colleen Collins-Burridge & George Vlastos, who believe in the power and magic of the outdoors.

Being a teenager is not easy.  As an adult, I’m not sure we ever grow out of that sense of discomfort.  We are constantly faced with outside pressures, often succumbing to others needs and expectations and we let our thoughts and beliefs about those expectations lead our lives.  However, when we are outdoors, nature does not have any expectations.  In nature, we can be who we are; mad at our best friend, happy to receive the crisp clean air, open to being our authentic selves.  Nature doesn’t care: no expectations, no needs.  She invites us constantly to be who we are.

Thanks to the teachers at Star Lane who are giving their students the opportunity to be who they are.

Yoga in the lodge

Climbing Up: It’s Only Half the Journey

There are times we all feel like we are climbing some sort of mountain…a mountain of bills, the uphill climb towards sanity, reaching the heights of success, carrying a relationship.  There’s a lot of climbing and struggle on the long ascending path to our goals.  But do we ever think about the way down? And is the coming down all that bad?

On a physical level…I would have to say yes.  Ask anyone who’s been on a hiking or backpacking trip with me.  I hate the descent.  The footing is unsure, I’m tired from the uphill climb, gravity has its own laws that I’m convinced I can argue and win.  It’s about this time in the hiking process that my knees start crunching, and I’m convinced that I’ve done irreparable harm to my body. “Why?! Why do I have to love mountains so much?  Why do I do this to myself?”

It is at this point that I would say the mental aspect of coming down isn’t so hot either.  At some point, after reaching the top of the mountain, a part of my brain says, “I’m done.  I’ve reached the apex, the goal, now I want to go home.”   My psyche cracks. I usually start crying, irrationally confident that I will be stuck on the side of a mountain, freezing in my sleep with hiking poles clutched in the grips of struggle.

Luckily, my husband has seen this a hundred times over and has found the solution to my seemingly bleak prospects of leaving the trail where I have crumpled into a sobbing mess.  A Snickers bar.  Maybe it’s the sugar, maybe it’s a shiny distraction that snaps me out of the mental cloudburst of despair.  All I know is that it works.  After having this repeat performance on almost every long hike or backpacking trip, I believe that the simple act of stopping to eat this deliciousness brings me into the present moment on another goal-driven process to get home.  I sit, I look at my surroundings, I breathe, I savor those 6-8 bites of heaven, I do a little yoga.  A magical, mental re-grouping happens.

I’ve been brought right back into the process of the entire hike: the energy at the beginning of the trail, beautiful surroundings and clean air, views from the top, breaks for snacks and talking, time for reflection, getting back to the car, a much appreciated beverage and warm meal on the way home.  I’m not focused on the end goal of getting to the top or getting home.  Because, no matter how much I fight it, being that I haven’t mastered the yogic skill of teleportation, I have to go through the process of hiking down.

Often, we find a sense of worth in accomplishing a specific goal unaware that after the long climb towards its attainment, there’s an equally challenging and beautiful descent.  It’s on this descent that we often want to bail.  “Yay, we had a beautiful wedding…What?! We have to work on this marriage?”  “I just got promoted to CEO! A dream come true…except, crap, I will never dream again, because I can’t reach the REM stage with only 2 hours of sleep a night.”  There’s always some great apex that we think will signify a sense of being done.  But, in reality, are we ever done?

The physical act of backpacking has made this mental concept very concrete for me.  When there are challenges in my life, I have the tendency to want to bail: on a new relationship, a new project at work, or, hell, work all together.  But when you are on the way down a mountain you can’t bow out, especially if you like running water and your loved ones.  You have to keep going.  Maybe you choose a different route.  Maybe you stop and enjoy a period of rest.  This becomes the goal: learning to enjoy and accept the process…the ups and, especially, the downs.