Living Your Values

Values.

This is a word I have thought about a lot lately. I’m trying to align how I spend my time with what I value. I’m trying to spend my money with companies whose values are similar to my own or at least whose values are things I can live with. I’m trying to be careful to not allow people whose opinions I do not value drag down my energy. I’m trying to question the true values of those who want something from me. I find that some people will manipulate you at every turn if they want your vote/money/help regardless of whose grandmother they have to sell to get their way.

Values matter.

This week, I took two very small actions to speak up for my values. Last night I went to Wheatberry Bookstore in downtown Chillicothe where I bought a couple of books. I’m calling them birthday gifts for myself because, as my mother would say, I need more books like I need another hole in my head.

This won’t stop me from buying them, mind you, but my birthday is coming and who can argue with presents?

Buying books is hardly an act of revolution but Wheatberry is a charming independent bookstore in a downtown where small businesses are suffering because of construction. Honestly, it isn’t nearly as bad as locals think it is and I had no trouble navigating where I needed to be.

If I want them to survive, I need to make sure I’m supporting them. Granted, my two book purchase won’t make that much of a difference but my two books and your two books and someone else’s two books will add up.

I value having a bookstore nearby and I value the programs, kids stuff, and community mindedness they bring to the table. Supporting authors is important to me as is making sure a variety of books are accessible locally.

I need to act like they matter.

The other thing I did was join in a chorus of voices expressing our dissatisfaction that the Ohio Department of Natural Resources (ODNR) was entertaining the idea gas powered boats should be allowed on Lake Hope.

In a busy, noisy and all together sometimes unpleasant world, Lake Hope is a last bastion of quiet and calm. I hike there. I know people who bird watch and pass the day floating around in their kayaks. I have sat near the shore reading and solving all the world’s problems beneath a peaceful autumn sky. The air is cleaner and the world feels lighter once your boots hit the trail at Lake Hope State Park.

I get irritated when people are hiking with loud music or let their kids scream like banshees on a forest trail. Yes, I sound like an old crank but that kind of noise scares away the wildlife and ruins the experience for everyone around. I certainly don’t want to listen to someone’s boat motor.

So I wrote a letter like many people and became part of a movement that forced ODNR to listen. A single voice might not have mattered but a lot of us together brought meaningful change.

Humans need a place where we can go for free and listen to the frogs, watch a squirrel scurry up a tree, and witness a turtle sunbathing on a half submerged log. We need a place to go where your only job is to enjoy the aroma of pine trees and the crunch of fallen leaves underfoot.

The wonderful thing about living in America is that we can make individual contributions that will matter. A single snowflake is hardly noticeable but put enough of them together and you might have a blizzard on your hands.

Contact your politicians. Stand up for what you know is right. Support the businesses you want to keep in your community. Get your friends to help too.

Exercise your right to free speech and stand up for what matters to you. Living your values is how things get done.

Rainbow Musings

Saturday brought an unexpected storm here on the ridge. After a long day of chores that kept me busy (even though it looks like nothing was done), I was glad for a one pot meal and dinner on the screened-in porch.

It was already a nice evening and then the rain began. It was hard and the gutters barely kept up. My fella and I reveled in this gift from Nature and the way it ushered in cooler air.

And when it ended, there was a rainbow.

I was proud of myself for trotting right out the front door to stand in the yard in my bare feet. This is a big deal for me since I rarely go outside without shoes since stepping on a bee as a kid. But I needed a closer look and there’s no time to spare where rainbows are concerned.

I reveled in the soft, squishy wet grass between my toes and wondered why I don’t do this more. The wet grass was cool and calming.

Summer would be better if it were always like this. And every day would be better if there were a rainbow to enjoy. A new workweek begins today. Enjoy it, friends!

Silent Sunday: Rainbow

Life’s Storms

Southern Ohio was smacked with a bad storm last night. Rain came down in torrents and thunder shook the walls. We aren’t out of the woods yet. It’s calm and quiet this morning but a tornado watch is in effect till 11 am.

There’s flooding throughout the county and trees down, making the morning commute challenging if not impossible for many.

But if you go in my backyard, you’ll find that the storm that literally uprooted mighty trees had little impact on delicate flowers.

These lilies still stand. These lilies that I didn’t even plant, that showed up one day and grew without my permission, continue to stand without a petal out of place.

These little flowers came from starts given to me by a neighbor. The rain did beat some of them down but I suspect, with a little support, they will stand again.

Nature is an incredible thing, isn’t it? From its healing powers to its beauty and ability to withstand and adapt to whatever is necessary, nature is amazing.

These flowers are a good allegory for us today. Like these lilies, there are some people who can weather any storm. They come out on the other side with not even a hair out of place.

And some people will get knocked down but you don’t need to worry about them. They’ll get up again, especially if they have a little help. They’re resilient and will be fine.

Whatever storm you have to weather, remember if the flowers can do it, so can you.

Lighting The Darkness

I saw lightening bugs last night. Perhaps you call them fireflies where you live. Whatever you call them, they were prolific.

It had been a long day. A work function kept me out later than normal so I was over caffeinated and excited to kick off my shoes.

I live in very rural, forested area where people show affection by reminding you to watch out for deer. There’s a reason for that as we probably have more deer than people. I wasn’t looking forward to dodging them in the darkness and was excited to just be home.

And then it happened. A flash of gold in the darkness and then another and another and another until the entire landscape was illuminated by these tiny flying beetles.

They kept me company much of the way home and I was glad. It seems that I see fewer every year. Loss of habitat, light pollution, pavement, and short cut grass are all contributing factors to their decline.

I was reminded of catching them as a kid. I don’t recall wanting to keep them but did like catching them in cupped hands and then releasing them back into the night.

In a world that seems defined by so much loss these days, it was reassuring to see they’re still hanging on.

I appreciate the natural world and especially like things that shine a light into the darkness. Would a lightening bug prevent me from hitting a deer? No. But I sure did feel less alone in the darkness with them lighting the way.

Want to help lightening bugs (or fireflies) thrive in your backyard? This website has some great information. Maybe if enough of us try, we can keep them thriving for future generations to chase and enjoy.

A Saunter Through The Woods

Naturalist John Muir hated the word hike. He famously said “I don’t like either the word [hike] or the thing. People ought to saunter in the mountains—not hike!”

He believed that nature shouldn’t be treated as something needing conquering or to be endured. Instead he thought it should be experienced and approached reverently. Nature and the mountains in particular were a Holy Land to him and walking through them should be peaceful.

It should be a saunter.

And that’s exactly what I did today. I sauntered through Lake Katherine State Nature Preserve, stopping to admire tree bark, to watch squirrels scurry up their trees, and to admire tiny little wildflowers no bigger than the nail bed of a toddler’s pinky finger.

I ran my hand across many kinds of moss and admired the texture of rock walls that were here long before humans and will hopefully withstand us for many generations to come.

It was wonderful.

And despite going slow, I still worked in some nice cardio on the long uphill stretches. Here in Ohio, we tend to avoid the switchbacks seen in western outdoor spaces and send hikers straight up steep hills.

It will strengthen the heart, knees and lungs!

My hiking companions all seem happy going at their own pace so that makes it easier for those who need or wish to keep their own pace.

Since it was warm and humid I was quite happy going a little slower. All the same, it was a good day for a saunter and a good day to be outdoors.

I hope you made it out for a saunter too!