Ever have one of those weeks where everything took more effort, time and energy than they should have?
That’s been the familiar theme this week. No matter how much I’ve tried to be organized, focused, intentional – nope. Along with a great deal of praying, one thing that’s helped me to completely sink into despair and anger has been practicing gratitude this week. It has been a valuable discipline.
This morning brought another long check list. As the day progressed I kept falling further and further behind on the self-imposed schedule; a seething anger started to consume all rationality.
Anger at no one or anything in particular. Just plain angry.
Except. The day was beautiful! Clear blue skies after haze and smoke brought on the winds from the California wildfires; warm sunshine that chased away the frosts of dawn. Hardwood trees still decked in bright autumn finery.
Driving home along the ridge from my daughter’s place the view drew my attention and memories. A couple of times I pulled off the road to soak in the sight, stepping through the view into the past memories.
For a sense of perspective of the size, zoom in and you’ll see the power lines & towers crossing the canyon.
Between ages 11 – 13 my family lived on the other side of this canyon. A few times we hiked down into the canyon to Silver Creek. We’d pack a lunch and set off through the back pasture, past grass fields then into the forest and down a small road that snaked through tall fir trees until reaching a small field and the creek where we ate swam, ate lunch, and skipped rocks until it was time to trudge back home.
A view of Mt Hood in the distant eastern horizon. Picture taken about a mile down the road from the one above showing the same power lines coming up out of the canyon.
From the farm we had access to fields very similar to those pictured above. (this picture shows an area about 2 miles from where we lived.) I have wonderful memories of dashing across the fields (during off-seasons when we were allowed!) at a mad gallop. We also learned to ski on those hills during the heavy snowstorm of ’69 when there was four feet of snow on the ground for several weeks. With two older brothers often leading the way we knew no bounds in our exploration of the countryside. As long as there were no closed gates we traveled far and wide. By the time I was thirteen my two friends and I on our horses explored even further afield.
Happy memories and the present beauty seeped into my soul, slowly easing out the splinters of anger.
The anger dissipated, leaving me thankful.
– wonderful childhood memories
– a beautiful drive
– spending a bit of time with daughter and granddaughter
– a home raised chicken in the freezer.