On a limb with Claudia

On our recent whirlwind trip through the east coast, I spent a lot of time on elevators. Granted, I spent less time then when I was stuck in an elevator on a Sunday in an office building. Still, for my life, I spent a lot of time on elevators while we were on the east coast.

Our first elevator was sleek with black mirrors and gold detailing. It slid from floor to floor without any apparent movement. Our next elevator, in a boutique hotel in Washington DC, was small, slower with noticeable movement and sound from floor to floor.

There I was standing in the back of the elevator with our dog. Sometimes she would sit in the corner, other times she would stand. She would wander the sleek elevator sometimes only to jump when it stopped to let someone on. And a variety of people would come on and off the elevators.

One man came on reeking of vodka talking about his dogs. It seems that he has two dogs and he missed them dearly. We imagined that the dogs were at home missing him too. He tearfully left the elevator a few floors before our stop. The smell of alcohol permeated the elevator when he left.

Another woman looked frightened of the dog sitting in the corner in her overcoat. She said nothing but watched at the dog out of the corner of her eye. Our dog was attempting to be polite by ignoring her completely. She was frightened of something that didn’t even notice her.

One time, in the older elevator, two German men came on the elevator. They had a conversation in German about the dog then decided to confirm that she was of Hungarian decent. We exited the elevator together and waited behind them at the desk as they changed money. They waved goodbye as they left smiling into the day.

I wondered about the floors we missed. The people and lives that continued on as we flew past them to our floor. We could only meet so many people, only the people who decided to join our elevator at that given moment. Life went on around us as we were only able to notice and focus on our little bit of space and time.

It occurred to me that life is a little like an elevator ride. People come into our lives then leave. We never really know when someone will come on the ride or when they will leave. Some people create memorable interactions while others simply permeate with their smell. People seem to get on and off the ride at their own accord, heading off to their own destinations for their own reasons. We can merely interact with them and wave good bye as they go off smiling into the day.

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Barbara Stanny is in Fort Collins this weekend teaching an underearning seminar on Friday and speaking at Growing the Green on Saturday. If you are in town, it’s bound to be fabulous! For more information, you can check out her website at: www.barbarastanny.com.

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We are back in Denver after our whirlwind tour of the East Coast. Our friend Betty sent story out this morning. Have you seen it? It’s author is said to be Mary Sullivan in one location and Shirley Stephenson. As we get readjusted to the altitude, I thought you might enjoy this. If anyone knows who the author is, please let me know!

Carrot, Egg or Coffee?
A young woman went to her mother and told her about her life and how things were so hard for her. She did not know how she was going to make it and wanted to give up. She was tired of fighting and struggling. It seemed as one problem was solved a new one arose.

Her mother took her to the kitchen. She filled three pots with water. In the first, she placed carrots, in the second she placed eggs and the last she placed ground coffee beans. She let them sit and boil without saying a word.

In about twenty minutes she turned off the burners. She fished the carrots out and placed them in a bowl. She pulled the eggs out and placed them in a bowl. Then she ladled the coffee out and placed it in a bowl. Turning to her daughter, she asked, “Tell me what do you see?”

“Carrots, eggs, and coffee,” she replied.

She brought her closer and asked her to feel the carrots. She did and noted that they got soft. She then asked her to take an egg and break it.

After pulling off the shell, she observed the hard-boiled egg.

Finally, she asked her to sip the coffee. The daughter smiled, as she tasted its rich aroma. The daughter then asked. “What’s the point, mother?”

Her mother explained that each of these objects had faced the same adversity–boiling water–but each reacted differently.

The carrot went in strong, hard and unrelenting. However after being subjected to the boiling water, it softened and became weak. The egg had been fragile. Its thin outer shell had protected its liquid interior. But, after sitting through the boiling water, its inside became hardened.

The ground coffee beans were unique, however. After they were in the boiling water they had changed the water.

“Which are you?” she asked her daughter. “When adversity knocks on your door, how do you respond? Are you a carrot, an egg, or a coffee bean?”

Think of this: Which am I?

Am I the carrot that seems strong, but with pain and adversity, do I wilt and become soft and lose my strength?

Am I the egg that starts with a malleable heart, but changes with the heat? Did I have a fluid spirit, but after a death, a breakup, a financial hardship or some other trial, have I become hardened and stiff?

Does my shell look the same, but on the inside am I bitter and tough with a stiff spirit and a hardened heart?

Or am I like the coffee bean? The bean actually changes the hot water, the very circumstance that brings the pain. When the water gets hot, it releases the fragrance and flavor. If you are like the bean, when things are at their worst, you get better and change the situation around you.

When the hours are the darkest and trials are their greatest do you elevate to another level?

How do you handle Adversity? ARE YOU A CARROT, AN EGG, OR A COFFEE BEAN?

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We are back east this week. I am writing from Philadelphia and will send out our newsletter from Washington DC. As a western people, being east is a little unnerving.

Yesterday, we had an amazing behind the scenes tour of the Philadelphia zoo courtesy of Greg the zookeeper. Check this out:

Claire and Isabel check out the crocodile.

We’ll be in touch soon!

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Just a moment ago, some young men came to the door. They were wearing their Boulder gear (for those of you who don’t know Boulder fashions itself to be like Berkeley except that Boulder County has the largest population of people with trust funds in the country) and an Environment Colorado patch. They were looking for funds to promote a new initiative for the Colorado ballet. They boasted of having passed a bill that made it mandatory for 10 % of energy to come from renewable sources.

Of course, they missed the part of their training where Xcel energy then passed rate increases citing the legislation as the reason for the rate increase. But that’s beside the point.

They were young, confident and male. And I am, well, old, realistic, and female. When I wasn’t wowed over by their intelligence on Global Warming, they glowered at me and said “good luck with your apathy”.

Now that stings. Apathetic? me?

Why is it that our depth of conversation is so limited that we are not allowed to disagree? I am not against initiatives to stop global warming. I am against wasting my time trying to pass them in a deeply conservative state such as Colorado, home of Focus on the Family. Having watched our current governor destroy and/or close fabulous one-of-a-kind functioning programs, such as the Circle program for alcoholics, it’s hard to believe that anyone in Colorado would vote for an initiative to decrease global warming.

Is that apathy? I guess so. I have been called worse.

I just am not all that certain that the world is really interested in changing anything, let alone policies to change global warming. We had a chance at smaller cars and almost everyone chose an SUV. Heck, we studied Ethanol fuel when I was in 4th grade in 1973! It was viable in 1973! Now it’s something BRAND NEW!

I guess I have reason to be apathetic.

In my defense, I am not so arrogant as to assume that I can tell anyone how to live. I believe that we are an educated society. Each of us has the capacity to make our own choices, think our own thoughts, and live our own lives. I am not so arrogant as to assume that I can tell people that they should or shouldn’t do one thing or another. That is their choice, their right.

Still I wish I had encouraged these bright shining young men to find something that was worth their energy, instead of something that will never make a difference. I could have said that. But I didn’t. They called me apathetic and stomped off.
I guess I was too apathetic to call after them.

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I am driving down the street with a friend who is driving. He is telling me some grand story about this person and that person. It’s loud and funny. The music is blasting. I am making faces at him as a way of participating in the story. I have a rather disgusted look on my face as I turn away from him laughing. I see two people walking across the street at the light. The first thing that registers is that there are two people crossing the street holding hands. My face freezes as I realize that they see me and think I am making that face at them. It’s only then that I realize it’s two men holding hands walking across the street. They look at each other then one of them flips me the “bird”.

Just a moment, a split second in time.

I wasn’t disgusted with them. I don’t care if they walk across the street, hold hands or do any other thing. It’s not up to me to tell anyone how to live their life. I had the disgusted look on my face prior to ever seeing them.

Sure, they probably have issues with their public display of affection. It’s probably rooted in some deep sense of internalized homophobia. This kind of reaction is a perfect example of what we were talking about in the acceptance newsletter section the Mirror in you. And sure, it’s also a great example of taking something personally that didn’t have anything to do with you.

At the same time, it highlighted to me the intricacies of human relationships. How many times have I taken what someone said personally when they didn’t even know I was there? How many times have I agonized over some slight when the other person didn’t even remember saying it? I wonder if these men told their friends that night about flipping someone the bird who gave them a disgusted look. I would have.

The human experience is so complicated, intricate and filled with pit falls of miscommunication. It’s amazing we are able to interact at all.

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I am still cleaning up from throwing a dinner party last night for Ricky Baca’s birthday. We discovered that we are cousins – back in old Ireland – so I hosted. 10 people. You can imagine the mess!

Anyway, friend of the Open Grove Mary Cross is releasing her CD this Sunday at the Tower Records in Cherry Creek from 3 – 5 p.m. Click here to see a flyer. Mary is a great person who after raising her children is working to return to her calling, signing. Listen for some of her songs in our next audio magazine.

Back to the mess!

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