What are men, compared to rocks and mountains?

Last summer, on my road trip up the West Coast, I met a friend who is a life coach. In addition to working with clients, Wendy sends out weekly e-mails to devoted fans with a thought for the week (cleverly called Wendy's Weekly Words of Wisdom, appropriately sent out on Wednesdays). I have enjoyed reading her insights, and, this summer, I found myself thinking in WWWW mode as I went mountain biking. I revisited the same idea today, and decided to write it up for Wendy... and then figured I may as well share it here, too.

When you have a big project ahead of you, people often to tell you to "see the big picture" or to "begin with the end in mind." Sure, it's helpful to have an idea of where you are going, but what if that end seems so intimidating or unreachable that picturing it actually deters you from getting started? Sometimes, it's more helpful to take it a step at a time.

This summer, I found myself mountain biking while on a trip in England. The sport is pretty new to me, so I felt really challenged by the hills on the trail. We would come around a corner, and there was this huge hill in front of me, staring me down. I would get discouraged, start to feel tired, be tempted to give up, and struggle my way to the top. Then, on one particular hill, I decided to try a different approach. I kept my eyes focused on the ground under me, and, rather than wondering if I could make it up the hill, I asked myself, "can I go one more peddle?" Peddle after peddle, I pushed myself up the hill, until suddenly, without the typical struggle, I was at the top. By ignoring the intimidation of the challenge and focusing on each moment instead, I didn't psych myself out or give up on myself.

I thought about that experience this afternoon, as I hiked up a mountain behind my house. The trail has several steep sections, including the last mile or so to the top. The last time I hiked this trail, I felt very much as I did early on in that bike ride, thinking I couldn't make it up that mountain without a huge struggle. Today, though, I decided to take the same approach I took when biking. I didn't allow myself to look up the trail during the final steep section, but instead focused on my feet and each step I took. I didn't need to be strong enough to make it all the way up the trail, but just strong enough to take one more step. One more step. One more step. Then, just like that, I had reached the end of the section and made it to my goal, without stopping once.

The completion of a big project or challenge is always worth it, but sometimes in order to get there, you have to focus on each step, rather than looking up the trail.

Standing in front of Harvard Lakes, with Five Fingers and Mt. Columbia hiding in the background.

"We are the Link School"

Friday night at the Link School. The students are lounging around the sofas in the living room, watching "Diary of a Wimpy Kid." That's pretty common for a group of high school students, right?

OK, it's true, Link isn't common. And that's what makes it great. A few days ago, the students called a school meeting to discuss some issues on their minds, and in the course of the meeting, one of the students said, "we are the Link School." He was explaining that Link is different from other schools because here, the students and the staff are equal. We all plan together, make decisions together, work together, learn together. Staff and students experience the same challenges, and we come up with solutions together.

We've now completed three weeks at Link. After an initial week of settling into the lodge, we packed up and drove out to Moab, Utah, where we set out for a 100 miles of paddling down the Colorado River. Our seaworthy crafts were a collection of duckies (or, if you're too macho for a boat named after an animal, "inflatable kayaks"), hardshell kayaks, and a giant support raft. The second week, therefore, was a combination of sixty miles of flat water, twenty miles of some of the biggest rapids in the country, and thirty miles on a lake. Oh, and biology and Shakespeare.

Since coming to Colorado, I have duckied, kayaked, and rowed. My training for the school year included curriculum maps and scooter training, horseback riding and unit designs. It's been quite a shift from FRCDS, I must say; FRCDS was a great place to learn how to teach outside of the box... at Link, there is no box.

What I've appreciated the most isn't the beautiful surroundings or the adventurous expeditions, the freedom to create an English curriculum from scratch or the opportunity to work with my new husband. All of those are pretty amazing aspect of life in BV, but what I appreciate most is working with a group of high school students who are excited to wake up in the morning, who care about what they learn and are invested in their work, and who genuinely enjoy challenging each other to grow. Sure, we still have a lot to learn as a community, but what a cool place to learn.

Rambling Renaissance

Welcome back. Or, perhaps I should say, I hope I am welcome back. After an eight-month hiatus, I have decided to dust off the ol' hypothetical blog office and start writing again. The events of the past eight months could fill volumes of stories and anecdotes, but I left them in the real world instead of recording them here. However, In the past month, I have moved to Colorado to start the next chapter of my life (the title of which could be, "Girl Meets Mountains and Husband"), and I have a feeling it will be worth sharing. My goal is more updates, more briefly.

My second year at FRCDS finished at the beginning of June, after which I promptly packed up my classroom, my apartment, and my cat, and I moved out to Buena Vista to join my fiance, Dave, and finish planning our wedding. That wedding happens to take place two weeks from today.

After unpacking my stuff in the house we will be occupying after July 12, Dave and I headed out to California for my Association meeting and a road trip through the Southwest. Yosemite, Death Valley, the Hoover Dam, the Grand Canyon, and Santa Fe were greeted in a four-day whirlwind. I should probably post photos.

However, in my desire to stay brief, I'll leave you with just one for now, and perhaps I'll add more at a later date. Here are Dave and me at the Grand Canyon:

Ok, well maybe one more, for intrigue. This is Lulu and Rudy in the depths of Death Valley. More on Rudy and Lulu to follow.