Homeward Bound

This last weekend I went to Yosemite. We pulled out of town late Thursday night inspite of accuweather's predictions of an almost certain death by drowning for those foolish enough to venture into the projected storm cloud-covered cavern of Yosemite Valley. Here are the highlights: When my friends Rob and Melissa went climbing on Friday afternoon, I decided to head up Yosemite Falls on my own to clear my head of endlessly recycled thoughts and to clear my lungs of the nestings of two months' worth of head colds. The day was starting out sunny, though a solid gray patch in the sky out to the east kept me tracking the clouds as I weaved in and out of patches of trees. I love setting out for a good hike by myself, especially when I feel like the odds are slightly stacked against me. After a while, I found myself steadily trailing about twenty paces behind a guy who looked like Daniel Day Lewis in Last of the Mohicans, long hair and everything. I felt certain that there was some type of buckskin or animal tooth ornamentation on him, a talisman driving his serene and silent ascent. (I'm sure we all could run through the trees like DDL in LoM if we had a huge shotgun, and were dramatically draped in highly symbolic animal parts) Anyhow, the last leg of the ascent we began playing leap frog and tersely commenting on the ominious turn in the weather. Within a half hour, Half Dome had become hidden behind dense rain clouds, and thick fog cast a spectral presence over the valley. Short, fierce burst of rain punctuated the last mile, increasing the slippery smoothness of the rocks. Cold gusts of wind pelted the trail with the significant mist kicked up by the plunge of the upper falls. Anyhow, both DDL and I were feeling our flailing sea level circulatory systems and after finding out the close proximities of our homes, we ended up companions for making the final treck over the well-tromped snowy ridge to the edge of the top of the falls. Once at the highly exposed ledge of the falls, it only took only a couple of balance-challenging gusts to admit that we had both experienced the success of gaining this view on sunny days, and had no need to linger in the glow. So we started back down pretty quickly, and so began conversation. DDL is a committed liberal, canadian, father, husband, naturalist, traveler, anti-all things associated with city life, and his wife is a vegan and his daughter not yet two, and is in general a thoughtful man, quite a bit further down the line than me but similar in a lot of ways. Needless to say, we had lots to talk about. Throughout the weekend, he ended up being a rather nice addition to what had turned out to be a party of three after the oh, say, eight other friends scheduled to go backed out for various reasons. By the time we reached the bottom of the trail, the valley was sunny and beautiful, its cleanliness glistening and its freshness diffusing into the air. White puffy clouds roamed happily above and the valley seemed to be luxurously sighing with the estacy of a good morning springtime stretch. The next day we all toured the valley on some rented one-speed beach cruisers, DDL & I taxing our already sore quads on muddy, bumpy trails along a deserted stretch of the Merced. These bikes were at least built for butt comfort though - why be saddle sore when you can rent a bike with a cushy, coiled seat? Eventually we wended our way to the El Cap meadows to look for climbers on the wall and laze in the grass. Rob and DDL had climbing in common, and compared endless notes. Melissa and I happily chimmed in with utterly helpless comments about "nice racks" and "good sized jugs." Perverting climbing lingo never fails to amuse us, especially when confronted with anyone remotely serious about techincal language. The last day was a pure gift. Late rising was in the forecast, and listening to the rain stop and start on the nylon of the tent while floating in and out of sleep was demanded. When I did finally unzip myself from this red and beige dome, it was still early and thick fog was sliding over the features of the valley. Sunnyside Bench, the towering granite wall directly above Camp 4, was alternately shrouded in mist and shot through with strong sunlight, as was the top of Yosemite Falls a little further down. We took a quick walk to fill our eyes with all this contrast and beauty and then turned back to camp to head out for a big hike. As we were going about the business of eating and planning and saying good bye to DDL, the mist won, the clouds got lower. Shortly after we decided that packing up should be our priority, the rain came down, fast and fierce. Still reluctant ot leave, we headed to Curry Village to hang out, and soon out came the sun again. But the weekday clock was ticking, and thoughts of early Monday morning wakeups fueled our departure. We drove out casting last backward glances with sad eyes and talking of a potential May visit. Time is again ticking,a nd I've got to get to class tonight.

two days' worth of good stuff

okay this is going to be quick because i'm going to try to spend some time in the word and i'm close to bedtime.

Yesterday's highlight was a quick walk with a fantastic 360 degree view of our valley. the wind was strong and cold, the sky was mostly gray, and thick clouds covered the westerly mountains. there were also portions of clouds that curled back on themselves where they met the blue, and you could tell they were thick. looked like a storm was fast approaching! lots of mustards in bloom right now too. and i saw a fat caterpillar. and a rabbit that was so frightened by me that it all but sheared a rock face. it was amazing. i didn't know they could do that.

Today's highlight was the high school group i help out with through church. i haven't laughed so hard and consistently for a while. i mean, since i'm one of the leaders, i was trying to contain it somewhat, but they were really in top form tonight. one of the boys busted out with "baby got bible" a play on "baby got back" - no more needs to be said. i guess it's an ebomb? the other funny things were some made up words that sound so foul - "scrudel" and "weenis." uh-oh, you say, there goes her sense of humor back to junior high. oh well. i'm laughing. i love their excitement.

there you go.

a child is reborn

today's bright spot was easy. my parents and i drove the familiar stretch of road that inevitably is the beginning of almost all good road trips up north - but today's destination was a small communal residence for men with addictions located in the farmlands outside bakersfield. why a bright spot? because my 18 year old meth-addicted cousin graduated phase one of the program, and has given over his life to christ as a thinking adult. next he moves on to the second phase in riverside. the success rate of this program is at 85% - meaning that after 5 years, 85% of the graduates are still not using. i'm hoping that it doesn't decline much more than that after the 5 years. a total of 10 men were graduating and going on to the riverside portion, which i guess is even more intense, especially at first. i have to say, everything in me is doubtful. everything i have learned about brain chemestry in this behavioral neuroscience class i'm taking tells me the odds are not stacked in his favor. when he started using alcohol and drugs, he was only 15. and now the rest of his life will never be the same. he will always be on guard against him self, will always have that extra layer of caution shadowing his daily life. but today's gift was an outpouring of hope. gone was the overly skinny, pitted face and disappointed, guarded eyes. my cousin was a new person. his face was healthy and tan, he gained a much-needed 30 pounds, and his body was much closer to the strong athleticism of his youth. when he accepted his certificate, there were tears, long hugs with his counselors, and talk of amazing friendships forged through this process of healing. i pray that the spirit of life and peace would deepen its hold on his life and burn out the old painful paths. i pray that it is to god's glory that this life be redeemed from the spectral presence of addiction, and that my cousin and these other men get to enjoy a life under the full sunshine of grace. as a side note, i hope that my haughty, qeorgous cat, who is stretched out beside me, lives forever. please join me in praying for this. i can't afford the 30 g to clone him.

finally getting around to this!

i can't vouch for content here - i'm pretty tired and slightly depressed (post-birthday blues). but, that's beside the point. the other day i had a brilliant idea for this blog - that it could be about the best part of my day or week. the beauty of this is two-fold - ideally, no writer's block because i will optimistically say that there is always good going on, and, that it is good practice to dwell on that good and share it. so here i go, but today was a pretty low-key day: the best part of today is...the cool night air after a summerishly hot day. all the windows are still wide open and it is still and calming. and it is making me realize that the day went by so fast, and with little distinction. i'm thinking about the hike i didn't end up taking, the friends i did not call back, and my avoidance of god. i think part of it is i got bogged down in old memories and old anniversaries of nothing that resurfaced last night when chatting with a friend, part of it was just the general saddness that seems to weigh too heavily lately, and for really no good reason. i think a lot of it can be attributed to hope deferred and feeling like i am stuck in the same spot, and now i'm weakened to the point where i don't have much will to seek out change. i think i need to travel, which is why i'm really hoping that next weekend i will be in yosemite, enjoying the cool rush of waterfalls early in the morning, a short walk from camp 4. i would love to lose myself for a while on the JMT and just be alone alone and regain some confidence in myself and find that peace where god's presence is touchable. i need a little fear to spur me on, a little self-reliance, and the soaring embrace of yosemite valley.
suprisingly, last wekend in palm springs i had a somewhat similar experience at an art gallery that i walked to in the morning. the curves, colors and running water drew me in, and there was so much beauty there that i eventually found myself in tears, and i walked out so energized and alert to beauty and detail around me. everything was so alive to me and i felt so peaceful and joyful. it was all very modern, and there was one piece i especially liked made of highly reflective polished silver - a big curvy clean-lined chunk of it with some interestingly aged copper covering some portions. you could not look at it without being part of it - there was my reflection wavering on the silver as i moved around it. and there was a special reminder there, that our response to being alive is our art, and that a life well lived is the highest art. this piece gave me a stark physical picture of this and i thank and praise the lord for this reminder of a forgotten staple realization of my undergrad humanities education. i had forgotten the power of art, and how much i need it. the part that made me tear up a bit was a piece depicting the sun breaking through the clouds - it was one of the last ones i looked at and i think it just fit my mood, made me hope that god was going to put me on the favored list again and start feeding me better food...
anyhow, that's my best for happy thoughts right now. by god's grace tomorrow will be better, and this will become a chronicle of a life taken captive to the spirit and joy of God once again. i hope that my roots are seeking deeper sources right now, even though it just feels like i'm sidelining it. cowabunga dudes.