Transitions

Transition is good. It's like getting the death card in Tarot; the end of one thing and opening the door for something new.

Transitions can be hard too. Ending a relationship--ugh. Leaving a job, particularly when it's not self-initiated. Moving to a new area--post office notices, documents, maps, new people. And the list goes on.

I look at transitions as a natural progression of one's life. Not everything is meant to stay the same. With change we are challenged. Our comfort zones squeek, the confidence meter flickers, "like the back my hand" isn't a daily possibility. How refreshing to find ourselves with new choices and decisions to make. The possibilities just keep coming.

After almost 20 years in human resources, I'm done. I've had many jobs during those years; each a transition in its own right. But now, it's the big transition and I am more than ready. I don't care to see another resume, read another change in employment law, listen to another grievance, play another HR political dodge. Done.

So a couple of weeks ago I was pulling out of the driveway and as I usually do, rolled down the window to yell hello to the 5 cows that generally hang out down by the road. On the way down the drive, I greeted the horses as I passed them and then the dogs as they ran alongside the car. When I returned home, it was the same in reverse. Then I walked down to the chickens to see how they were doing and checked out the birds flying around on my way. Then I went back inside to work on a dance I was going to teach in my class the next day.

It dawned on me. Transitions make sense.

I've had so much training in behavioral interviewing, reading between the lines, watching body language for that unspoken message, anticipating patterns, noting changes and discrepancies, teaching line managers how to interview candidates and how to conduct a performance review or disciplinary counseling. I may be done with HR, but these tools are engrained in me and are making my new experience even richer.

I notice a change in a horse's behavior or walk and know something isn't quite right, I pick up on the tired energy of an aging dog, I can tell the difference between 2 chickens that look almost identical because I've observed their personalities without realizing it and I can make a complicated line dance come across as easily attainable so everyone gets it.

So, when one thing ends, it's not because it was a failure or didn't work out. That's cheating yourself. It was good for what it was. Hopefully we made the best we could of it. Everything we learn and do will come in handy on another day--maybe years later, maybe tomorrow.

If we welcome transition and know we're being set up for it because we are ready for it, we can trust it and all will be well. If we fear the transition and look at it as a second chance or a Plan B, it will always feel like that: sub-par.

Hug change. It can be great!

Photo with Gingerbread Man after an amazing ride on a beautiful June Sunday afternoon.

Could She Be a He?

Black Top. Esperanza. Alice. Peep Peep. Baby. Juanita. The names of our 6 chics, now 9 weeks old, and soon to be egg laying hens.

I was out watering the vegetable garden and I heard a call of some sort, something along the lines of the horn of a Model T Ford. "Well, that was weird" I thought to myself. And then I heard it again, sounding like it was coming from the chicken pen.

As I walked toward the pen, I saw Peep Peep, named so because she was the most vocal peeper at 2 days old when we picked up the chics, standing tall up on top of the water tower, neck stretched, tail straight up, wings pulled back, honking like a Model T Ford.

Not quite a cluck. Not a cock-a-doodle-doo. But definitely not a peep.

Okay, so we noticed that Peep Peep is a bit larger than the other 5 chics. She tends toward the bossy side. The beginning of her crown seems a little redder than the others, but is that really significant? We've been wondering.

Could it be? Could there be a cockeral amongst our pullets?

Stay tuned.

What Calls Your Attention

This one is dedicated to my mother who asked today.

It is worth noting what gets our attention. On a given day we may go about our business, routine or not, and only see what is put directly in front of us--what we have to see. Then there are the glory days when we are in touch with people and things not right in front of us, the not so obvious.

What are we doing, or not, that we do not always see the not so obvious?

This is weird, but an example. We were watching Paul Blart, Mall Cop (that is weird but not my point) and boy oh boy was I transported to the Burlington Mall in Massachusetts! I suddenly lost sight of what was going on in the movie, and sure as the hay is growing high, I knew that odd little misplaced ramp in the middle of the walkway that the mall cop slid down was in the Burlington Mall. I have walked around that ramp, up and down it, countless times wondering "why on earth would someone put a ramp here?"

In another scene, again being drawn to the Mall itself and not the movie characters, it was as if I was walking out of Lord & Taylor, passing the Rainforest Cafe and heading toward the center escalator to hit Talbots. Quick camera flashes, full of action, but I was standing in the Mall. So familiar. The last time I was in the Burlington Mall had to be some 8-10 years ago. Weird.

A week or so ago I woke up and my dear friend Milagros in Argentina was screaming in my head. Not literally. Oh, I could deny it if I really tried, but I paid attention. So I dropped her a quick note to tell her how much I missed making her salads and that I loved her. She wrote me back that just as my message had come in, she had lost a much loved uncle.

I had this very elaborate dream about my niece Jocelyn. Strange details. Left a message for my sister and she called me back. Yes, Jocelyn was behaving in these particular ways.

So what does it mean? To me?

There is so much going on around us all the time. With cell phones and texting and Bluetooth, it's nearly impossible to get away. I think we get so caught up in 300+ channels, immediate response and satisfaction and downright overstimulation that those delightful subtleties and intuitive callings can get overlooked.

I find so much joy in listening to my heart, sitting with my dreams for a bit in the morning and meditating while standing in the middle of a pasture. When I allow my emotions to get chaotic, all kinds of messages get missed. When I focus on being calmly active and actively calm, all kinds of messages get my attention.

It feels good. It feels real. I feel alive and grounded. I am connected.

And I know my malls.

What a Glorious Day

It's just a beautiful day. I can't get over it. I can't help but want to write about it.

Sun, blue sky, snow-covered mountains, water spraying over all the greening pastures, fresh fresh air, loyal dogs keeping me company, horse whinnies, smell of horses--the good stuff, an impressive variety of birds and their songs, birds flying through the irrigation sprayers and robins taking baths in the overspray. Green, Blue, White all over. It's all so pleasurable.

Working outdoors is the way to go today. My laptop battery is ready for a recharge. Time for a lunch break and a horse grooming. Not necessarily in that order.

There is No one Quite Like a Mother

It's Mother's Day.

Pleasant wishes to all biological, adopted, sister, step-, surrogate, friend, in-law mothers. Mothers spark a constant flair in our lives, regardless of our age, the era, or the time of day. They make their mark on our hearts. Let's celebrate them!

As for mothers, I think we all should celebrate as mothers. Aren't we though?

We play the mothering role starting with conceiving the many events that keep our life in motion. Dreams, goals, career moves, learning, relationships, passions, religion. The list goes on.

Who tends to those significant concepts as they evolve in our life?

We do.

We nourish them, we fantasize about our life with them, we write about them, we talk about them, we anticipate them, we share their birth with others, we often take pictures. They make us laugh. They make us cry. And we are forever responsible for them, no matter how old they get.

So let's take a moment to celebrate ourselves. For without us, life would not be the same.

Happy Mother's Day to All.

What are we Doing Wrong?

The interest in the western channel started sometime around Thanksgiving with a Cheyenne marathon--but that's beside the point.

Have you noticed that in western movies, except for the bad guys everyone else is pearly white clean? They travel by covered wagon across the wilderness, they don't bathe or change clothes for days and yet they are still so clean! Riding across their Ponderosa to check the fence line, rushing off on horseback to find someone lost from the trail, hoisting the lost soul up on the rescue mare for a safe return home, no matter what, they mount their horse or carriage and they arrive...yes, you guessed it, clean. Crisp even.

We walk out to simply say hello to the horses, no feeding or riding or rescuing involved, and we come back dirty. If it's not being instantly covered in horse hair because it's the time of year for shedding, or mud on our jeans or jacket because we were greeted with a dirty muzzle, surely it's just some run of the mill dust from the ranch. But it's something, I assure you.

Are we still ranch green? Or are we just bad guys?

East Meets West

A couple of weeks ago I came back from a quick trip to Boston with two live lobsters in hand. I told Larry that the next day we needed to go out and pick up lobster crackers. We talked about which stores might possibly carry them--here in Central Oregon. So, the next day we set out to do a few errands and our conversation went like this:

Me: "Hmmm, I'm not sure where the best place is to find lobster crackers."
Larry: "What about Food for Less?"
Me: "No. They wouldn't carry something like that."
Larry: "Would Safeway or Trader Joe's?"
Me: "Doubt it. I'm not sure Target would even carry them. Maybe back east, but not out here. I think we need to find a gourmet kitchen store or something like this."
Larry: "Really? Are they that hard to find?"
Me: "Out here I imagine it might take a few stops."
Larry: "Oh. What's the difference between lobster crackers and oyster crackers?"
Me: "You don't crack oysters. You shuck them."
Larry: "Are you talking about the little salted crackers you put in clam chowder?"

After quite a bit of laughter and cultural appreciation, we opted for the easy option...a new pair of pliers and a new dental pick!