London, Paris and Bonners Ferry, and the Buddha

I am at heart a big city girl, but I love this little, itty-bitty town in the panhandle of Idaho. When I was a kid, I'd look at the panhandle of states like West Virginia, Oklahoma and and wondered what was there. 

Now I know. At least for Idaho.

Nestled in the Selkirk Mountains, this little town is thirty miles from the Canadian border and four hours from Banff, the famous Canadian National Park. Bonners Ferry is in the river basin of the Kootenai (pronounced Coot-Knee).

Doesn't it look pretty from a satellite?

Bonners Ferry is the least bougie place on the earth, and I found that a wonderful escape from the urban world where we are forced to spend time outside because there is nothing else to do. Nothing.

Pedro and I went on a guided fishing trip, where we were on a float boat for eleven hours. My personal best catch for the trip was a sixteen inch rainbow trout. Pedro and I caught two fish at the same time. He was delighted to have two fish in one net.

When we weren't fishing, I went on a hike to a waterfall and then paddle-boarded on a quiet lake where I saw a deer on the shore and a heron. I met up with a pair of kayakers on the middle of the lake, and they told me of reports of a grizzly in the area. I figured they meant the greater Bonners Ferry vicinity. Nope. They meant like within a mile south of the lake I was on. When I pulled my paddle board ashore, I met some local women with six young kids between them. They were not phased by the reports of a grizzly bear. Just another day living in the middle of the wilderness.

Then I came home, and went to the Old Stove Brewery in Pike Place Market where I sat overlooking Elliott Bay, with the Wheel, the West Seattle Port, two stadiums, and a view of Mt. Rainier in the background. This is the land of the beautiful and the hip, which is fine. I am okay straddling both worlds. My friend Clara lives on Capitol Hill and has a beach house in a remote small town on the Pacific. Now I understand why she does this. I love the Pacific Northwest Ballet and local theater. I love the awesome restaurants and art galleries in my neighborhood. I love the walk along Elliott Bay to the Sculpture Garden.

I also loved stepping away from it all, and trying something completely different. I have a dear friend who lives in California. She has three houses in different states, and her most recent vacation pictures on Facebook where of her trip to Wimbledon. I am sure it was great, but how many awesome vacations can a person take? Each one needs to be better and more exciting than the last one.

A friend of mine was recently telling me the story of the Buddha. Buddha grew up as a prince, surrounded by wealth. He was destined to be either a great king or a wiseman, and he renounced his fortune and title and became enlightened. When I see my old friend take fancy vacation after vacation, I think of the Buddha, and I wonder what my friend's wealth has done to her? Is she happy? She is peaceful, content, or serene? 

I'm not giving up on money anytime soon like Buddha did, but taking a rural vacation was a complete change from my regular life. I went to a different world, where I was the outsider. 

And it was beautiful.

View of the Kootenai from the hotel

A sixteen inch rainbow

Two fish, one net.

Pedro taking a break from the boat and spay casting in the Kootenai.

At the Kootenai National Wildlife Refuge. It reminds of something
Van Gogh would have painted in Arles.

What could go right?

My father is a wise man. 

Recently, I was kvetching about some-such thing in my life, when he said, "Instead of thinking what could go wrong, why don't you think of what could go right?"

Wow.

That was a bucket of cold water on my pessimism. In a good way. My pessimism needs to take a backseat in my decision making.

"What could go wrong?" is a necessary thing to consider. Risk assessment is useful, but what happens when I forget that a positive element could exist? Risks are something that might happen. I look at risks all of the time, but sometimes I forget to look at the probability of that happening, which maybe low. I can get so wrapped up in low-likely risks, that I forget to look at high probability good things that might happen.

To answer "What could go right?" requires optimism. It requires faith and hope and most of all, courage. I don't find courage in my brain sitting next to the list of potential catastrophes. I find courage in my heart and my gut.

I recently found out I have pre-diabetes, which sucks. What could go wrong? I could continue to eat sugar and refined foods, and then I could get real diabetes which killed my grandfather. 

What could go right? 

I could read up on how to lower my blood sugar. I could get more exercise, lose some weight. I could potentially lower my blood sugar so I don't get all kinds of complications, and I could live a long and healthy life.

Not all bad news comes with a potential positive outcome. Sometimes the answers to "What could go wrong?" need to be heeded. Sometimes the risks of bad things happening are too high for my taste, like skydiving. I don't need to risk my life for five minutes of thrills. Most of the decisions in my life aren't so dramatic, and the risks are low.

WTF America

My co-worker Patrick is riding in the "Tour Divide" and there was an article about the race in the print version of the New York Times. Super cool, way to go Patrick! 

I went to email the article to people on my team when I was blasted with the news of the mass shooting in Highland Park, Illinois. Highland Park is about fifteen miles from where I went to college, and is one of the North Shore Chicago suburbs on Lake Michigan. I think Pedro went to school with kids from Highland Park. I have friends who live close enough. They probably were not at the parade, but still this has got to be devastating for them.

You know the funny thing about guns in America--these mass shootings never seemed to be perpetrated by people who hunt deer or ducks for dinner or sport. You don't see some middle age guy with a beer gut dressed in camo and an orange vest rampaging a shopping mall or school. Can we create some sensible laws that allow people who want hike for miles in the wilderness to nap a buck with a rifle but prevent automatic weapons to be given to whack jobs so they don't slaughter innocent people?

Feast or Famine, or Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

So I've been struggling with this pre-diabetes. One of the books I recommend suggests fasting as a way to drop blood sugar levels. This makes sense. If I have high blood sugar and keep eating, my blood sugar will go up.

I've been fasting for thirty-one hours, and I stopped because I was getting emotional labile. (See: previous post "Sally Had Boundaries." Yikes!) Cheese and crackers plus an orange seemed to elevate my mood.

I am enjoying my fasting periods. There are tricks to fasting, and I am learning them. One weekend I want to make it to forty-eight hours, and then maybe seventy-two. #goals.

I don't think I am going to become anorexic because I love food. If anything, these periods of fasting make me love food even more. Yesterday, (before I started the fast) I visited a friend who made dosas, a crispy Indian crepe with chutney. So delicious. I have to learn to cook these.

While I am trying to manage my blood sugar, I am reading Salt Fat Acid Heat: Mastering the Elements of Good Cooking by Samin Nosrat. Fasting makes me want to eat better food. If I am going to eat, it had better be awesome.

And I can figure it out.

Sally Had Boundaries

I recently watched the classic romantic comedy When Harry Met Sally on Netflix. Nora Ephron, the writer, is a rockstar, and this movie launched her into the stratosphere. 

I've seen this movie several times. Who hasn't? Since this movie has been out for years, I don't think I am going to be giving any spoilers here. If you haven't seen When Harry Met Sally, drop what you are doing and watch it. 

As most of you know, the past several years of my life have involved lots and lots of therapy. I am grateful for all that I have learned and how I have grown. Watching When Harry Met Sally in this new context, I realized something that most romantic heroines have in common: they have boundaries.

Sally had boundaries. After Sally slept with Harry, she insisted it was a big deal when he thought it was nothing. When his view didn't align with hers, she didn't say "That's great. Whatever. Let's still hang out." 

No. She dumped him. She walked away.

In Pride and Prejudice, Elizabeth Bennett had boundaries. She refused Mr. Darcy's crappy first proposal. She knew what she wanted and was willing to walk away from "less than."

When Sally and Elizabeth set boundaries, the men were realized they needed to change if they wanted to keep the women. Harry and Mr. Darcy both get their heads out of their behinds, and rise to the challenge. She asks. He listens. He becomes a better man. As Good as it Gets is similar. 

The life isn't like a romantic comedy. Sometimes when boundaries are set, they get trampled or are ignored. Sometimes we wave the magic boundary wand and nothing happens. The dude might continue going about his business as if nothing happened. It isn't enough to set a boundary--it needs to be tended to, managed.

In life, sometimes the woman walks away, and the man doesn't notice or change, or rise to the occasion. He might think she is over reacting or asking too much or too needy or clingy or demanding or whatever. He doesn't want to meet her in the middle, or maybe he can't. She is setting him free, too--free from her expectations of what she is looking for in a partner. Or, he just might not like her or love her enough. Which is fine.

Romantic comedies don't end this way, but maybe they should. (But then it wouldn't be a comedy, ya know?) Maybe we should see the heroine rising from the ashes, ready to remake her life, no longer waiting around for the guy who doesn't get her.