For New Zealand

photo by StefanG81

They say things happen in threes.  So after last year's earthquakes resulted in horrific conditions in Haiti and serious damage in Chile, I was so relieved that the consequences in Christchurch's earthquake last September were restricted primarily to property damage.  It was terrible for the people that live there, but I considered it a real blessing that no lives were lost.  I hoped that might be the end of dreadful earthquakes for a while.

But now, I am distressed to hear about devastation from the earthquake in Christchurch again yesterday, including casualties and terrible, life-altering injuries sustained by people needing to be freed from collapsed buildings.  The pictures in this slideshow bring it home so forcefully.

D and I were married in and spent our two-month honeymoon touring the whole of New Zealand back in 2003.  Christchurch was one of our favorite cities and I vividly remember standing in the cathedral square with the stone tower looming over me.  Now that iconic tower is a pile of rubble.

The Kiwis are some of the warmest, most down-to-earth people we've met in our travels.  Because we married in New Zealand, it holds a special place in our hearts, and now my heart is breaking for the people of Christchurch and their loved ones around the country and around the world. 

If you would like to help, the Red Cross is accepting donations.  As I found when reading this article, the response has been so overwhelming that the Red Cross website keeps crashing.  This warms the cockles of my jaded heart.

Many blessings to you, Christchurch.

The mountain, she calls to me

One of the pretty fantastic things about my pretty fantastic job is that THIS is my view.


And when I say that's my view, it's not that I can get up and walk to a window, or turn around from my desk and see it.  No, I'm fortunate enough that my desk is snuggled right up against the sill, facing out over the river and the city, and best of all - on a clear day, there is a fabulous vista of Mount Hood shining in the distance.

See?

Sometimes, this can be delicious torture.  I'm there in my cube, toiling away diligently, or perhaps not-so-diligently because I'm a little bored with what I'm doing at the time.  Just over the corner of my monitor, the mountain presides over the skyline.

And on days like that, I dream of days like this...

* * *

The alarm beeps, just like it always does, at 5:20 am.  But this isn't like other days.  I skip the morning shower routine and face the mirror.  I arm myself, not with the standard cosmetic mask, but with sunscreen.  For today, I am going to the mountain.  I double- then triple-check that I've got all the accoutrements of a comfy day in the snow.  Would hate to drive all the way up there and find I'm missing a key piece of snowriding equipment, or frostbite-fighting snow gear.

I load up the car and point it east, where hints of dawn are just appearing on the horizon.  I speed towards Portland, hoping to clear the city before the morning commute traffic gathers steam.  Leaving the eastern suburbs behind, I head out through the stunning Columbia River Gorge.  The sunrise is painting gorgeous watercolors across the clouds.  There is a bit of mist and fog clinging here and there on the cliffs of the gorge.  I smile a little, thankful to be enjoying nature's beauty, rather than commuting to the office.

Arriving in Hood River, I turn south and begin the climb up towards the mountain through the Hood River valley, an area famous for its fruit orchards.  At one point, I round a bend and the mountain dominates the view ahead.  My smile grows a little wider.

I hit the snow level and the road slices through the evergreen forest cladding the mountain's flanks.  The sun, fully risen now but hanging low in the winter sky, sends shafts of sunlight through the trees, alighting on the virgin snow on the steep embankments along the roadside.  The angle is just right to reflect off the ice crystals, winking and twinkling brightly like a million diamonds.  I beam back, entranced by the effect.

Soon I have arrived at the Mount Hood Meadows parking lot.  The payoff to my early start is that I get to park nice and close to the lodge.  I hastily don my snow gear and grab the snowboard, rushing to get to the lifts just as they open to score some fresh tracks.  Waiting around with other eager snowriders, I fire up the MP3 player, loaded with all the tunes designed to pump me up for my workouts.  I haven't been to the gym in months, so these old favorites are gems that I haven't heard in a while.  The soundtrack of my day, perfectly suited, and each tune in the rotation widens my grin a little more.  

I board the lift, which speeds me up the mountain, affording a view of the pristine snowy peak against an impossibly blue sky.  It carries me above the timberline, and when I disembark at the top, I take in the panorama of the Cascade mountain range, clouds settled into valleys below, layering into the distance where I can see other volcanic peaks jutting into the ether.  I sit in the soft packed powder, breathing the cold air in deep and slow, momentarily awed.

Then the descent is begun.  Groomed corduroy everywhere, with off piste-powder to go play in.  I connect the first few turns, reengaging with the familiar motions.  Lean onto the back edge... roll my weight over the board, push into the front edge turn, roll back again.  Gathering speed,  I head for untracked powder, shift weight to the back leg to keep the board tip up.  In the powder - magical fluffy powder - the board floats, turning, sinking, lifting at the slightest movement, even the slightest thought.  Look where I want to go and it just happens.  Nothing in my mind but the next turn.  This is like six months of therapy rolled into one moment.  My grin is so large now it nearly splits my head open.

I've come to the mountain alone today - something I've only started doing regularly this season.  It's easier to just check the snow conditions, let the office know I'll be MIA and just go.  No coordinating schedules, no accommodating others' needs.  Although I thought it might be lonely, I find it incredibly freeing.  I make the runs I want to make, changing my mind from moment to moment about where I'll head to next.  No stopping to wait for a companion, no charging ahead worried that I'm being too slow.  It's just me, my music, my board and the snow.  Halfway down the mountain, Jesus Jones "Right Here, Right Now" plays through the headphones.

You know it feels good to be alive

I was alive and I waited, waited

I was alive and I waited for this

Right here, right now

There is no other place I'd want to be

Indeed.

* * *

So tell me, what perfect day do you dream about?

You know the stereotype that says women can't parallel park?

BOO-YAH!

I am inordinately proud of this... of course it did take 5 minutes and a 27-point turn (Austin Powers style) to get it in there and I'm a little afraid about getting it back out again.

Deep thoughts: the universe gives back

So first of all, I owe some of you a big thank you for the time you took to write thoughtful comments on my last post.

After some reflection on the comments and my situation, I've come to a conclusion.  There really is no question in my mind that I should leave the comfy life I have here to go with D into the next stage.  Ever since I met the man, who has traveled and lived all over the world, he's never provided a guarantee that we would ever "settle down."  If I'm honest, it's part of the reason I fell in love with him in the first place.  Even when we moved to America, our deal was that we'd stay here for at least five years, and now it's been seven.  There is something intriguing about knowing the world is one's oyster.  As Lemon Gloria said, "That's pretty huge."

Educlaytion's question, "What if you end up feeling the same in a new place?" goes straight to the heart of the matter for me.  I don't know that won't happen.  But upon reflection the answer to my question, "Is it better to regret something I have done than something I haven't?" is a resounding "yes."

I took Ironic Mom's suggestion to fast forward three times and try to imagine what I would regret more in 5 weeks, 5 months and 5 years.  After thinking about it in those terms, there is no way I can imagine not making the leap with D.  We may not make it, even if I do... but we're guaranteed not to make it if I don't.  I would always regret not taking that chance.

So, with that decision made, that leaves me/us at the crossroads of trying to make it happen.  I reflected on the anchor that is the house.  An anchor, physically, in that it's half renovated and filled with stuff we need to either divest ourselves of or pack up and move, and more importantly, an anchor mentally as I agonize over the money we'd lose when we walk away.  As Go-Betty said, "At what cost your relationship and happiness???"

In the past week, I kept asking myself that question.  In the end, I've decided to view the money invested in the house that we won't see back as a temporary "asset" that was never meant to be ours.  Sure, we scrimped and saved and did everything (financially) correctly, and I could view that effort as a waste if it evaporates in a fire sale to rid ourselves of the anchor.  But if we hadn't scrimped and saved, we wouldn't in the fortunate position of being able to move on so easily.  If we hadn't been blessed in our careers, finding the good jobs that allowed us to earn the money, we would never have had it in the first place.  Am I a better person because I "have it?"  No.  Will I be a lesser person if I "lose it?"  Of course not.  Money is transient and it sure the hell hasn't brought us happiness.  So why am I even considering allowing the concept of a pile of money invested in the house stop me from making a decision that would make us happier?  It's foolish and I've decided to let it go.

A few of you suggested making a plan.  I have been trying to get D to sit down and do so ever since the new year.  There are a few things blocking him.  Fear of what his family will say or feel when they find out we're kicking around the idea of moving even further away (we need some information from them to complete the immigration docs we started at the holidays) ... frustration that I was clinging to this idea that we have to "finish the house" before we can go... and I believe he's simply at a loss of how to get out of this situation with a bit of pride intact because he doesn't like the idea of giving up either.  But trying to push forward with the project has been sucking the spirit out of him.  Rock, meet hard place.  Sometimes it feels easier to just hide under the covers and wish yourself out of a situation.

Lastly, to address the elephant in the room - is D depressed?  There is no doubt - not in his mind and not in mine.  His symptoms are textbook.  However, stubborn pride means he won't seek the assistance of a therapist or accept medications that could change the thought patterns that have become embedded in the past few years.  This depression seems to be situational, brought on by dissatisfaction with the choices we've made together.  Since he won't seek assistance from the medical community, our only hope lies in changing the situation.

So I'm going to take the bull by the horns and develop my own plan for how we can accomplish this.  I was convinced that we should develop this plan together, but perhaps it will feel easier for him to either bless or revise my scheme rather than starting with a blank sheet of paper.  I'm fortunate that my accounting skills are fungible and in demand around the world.  I'm cooking up a proposal to my current company, which has a global presence, that may allow an ongoing relationship to provide a bit of a safety net.

Time to pick ourselves up, dust each other off and get this show on the road.

Clearing out the cobwebs & a question to the universe

Um, hello out there.  Is this thing on?

Things have been pretty quiet at Keenie Beanie lately.  I've been in a funk and I don't really know how to pull out of it.  That can make for fairly boring blog fodder.  Add that to the fact that I'm in the annual "I'm-an-accountant-and-therefore-lose-two-months-of-every-year-to-a-soul-sucking-amount-of-work" period, and I've got myself a great big case of blogger's block.

But there is something that is consuming my thoughts.  Maybe I should put the question weighing heavily on my mind out there to the universe and see if it has any good advice - or at least a different perspective.