Don't let obstacles block your happiness

Oh no! Something's blocking your way! What do you do?

When we walked into Mississippi Pizza ready to dance to Kory Quinn's music, I immediately noticed guitar cases haphazardly piled on the tiny dance floor at the base of the stage.

"They should move those guitar cases," I told Kirby. "Someone might trip."

The jumble of guitar cases spilling onto the dance floor was a roadblock to our dance plans. And in a way, to my expectations and happiness for the evening. Should I dance and risk tripping? Or just listen to the music from the sidelines and watch the other dancers having fun?

How do you approach life's potential roadblocks?

Do you carefully map out each step and consider potential obstacles to your success before you move your big toe a centimeter? Or do you leap from the ledge, letting the wind take you in whatever direction it chooses, without a care to potential roadblocks that might stand in your way? Most of us fall somewhere in the middle of these two extremes.

Not long ago, before I moved a pinky, I wrote extensive numbered lists of "pros" and "cons of a decision I was contemplating. I carefully considered potential consequences. After I made my decision, I moved at a glacial pace.

But in the past few years, more often than not, I've stood on the ledge and leaped. I might lick my finger and test the wind's direction, but recent experience has taught me that even if you plan very carefully, life doesn't always go according to plan. Let me revise that last phrase: In my experience, life rarely goes according to plan.

What's caused my philosophy to change so drastically? Having the carpet pulled out from under me and falling hard on my rear multiple times has made me a freer spirit. I'm no longer afraid of falling. I've already done it. I plan less and live more by the seat of my pants. So far, in my new normal, that philosophy has served me well.

If we look closely, any situation is fraught with potential obstacles. If I didn't try something because I might fall down, I'd never have an adventure. There is always the possibility of falling down, especially for me. Last year I fell on porch steps, hitting my head, neck and back and suffered a concussion. Many years ago, while sitting on my sister Judy's slick vinyl couch, I did a nosedive onto the floor. I wasn't even moving and I fell off the couch!

I seem to be much more graceful in a dragon boat or kayak, but put me on land, and I may fall down, hard. Without warning.

So as I scoped out potential obstacles on the dance floor, that pile of guitar cases seemed like a doozy. But I didn't let the threat of tripping over guitar cases or any other obstacles prevent me from dancing. I really wanted to dance.

As Kory started singing one of our favorite songs, Kirby led me to the dance floor. I stopped worrying about that pile of guitar cases and enjoyed dancing. Things went well--for about 45 seconds. I'd completely forgotten about the guitar cases until I backed into them, lost my balance, and dipped backward toward the stage, with my head swooping very low.

Thankfully, although I was mid-fall, my hands were still in correct swing dance position, allowing Kirby to grab my hands and pull me back up--without missing a beat of the music.

Perhaps people watching us dance thought, "Wow! How cool is that? Look at that deep dipping move! That couple dances well together!"

More likely people saw the panicked look on my face and thought, "That klutzy woman tripped over the guitar cases and almost fell over backward onto the stage. Her dance partner sure saved her patootie."

I'm thankful I took a risk. Yes, I tripped over the guitar cases, but thanks to Kirby's quick actions, I didn't fall. We had a fun and even memorable time dancing.

Life is far too short to worry about potentially tripping over obstacles. Don't worry that you might fall. Get up and dance--with gusto! See you on the dance floor!

What to do when life flings feces at you

Sometimes, life flings feces in our direction.

Yesterday morning, the open water source for Portland, Oregon, tested positive for fecal matter. Translated into plain talk: the water is contaminated with poo-poo.

The city announced that residents should boil their household water until further notice. Stores had a run on bottled water--with worried Portlanders filling up their vehicles--from their SUVs to their electric Smart cars--as if it were the apocalypse.

Close. It's the a-poo-calypse.

Portlanders are not alone. If you've lived long enough, you too, may have had had a close encounter with poo. Something stinking up an otherwise perfectly good glass of water. Feces flung your way. Poo-poo stuck to the bottom of your favorite shoes as you make your way through life.

Life is like that. Things might be going great and--bam! The feces hit the fan. It's OK. You can deal with the feces. Life is bound to fling 'em at you.

The trick is knowing what to do when it happens. As the Brits say: Keep calm and carry on.

First, do something that lifts your spirits to get past it: paddle a dragon boat, hug your honey, play with your kiddos, dance with abandon, run your fingers over the rosemary in your garden.

Next, put on your big-girl panties and deal with whatever crap is blocking your way to happiness.

Oh--and boil your water before you drink it.

Control your clutter--don't let it control you

Control your clutter before it overruns your life.

 

Is your life overrun with too much stuff? Are you overwhelmed with trying to unburden yourself?

Do you hold onto stuff with emotional ties? Clothes that are three sizes too small--or too big? Gifts you've never used but might someday?

Do you have bulging closets? Is your garage so stuffed with junk that you can't park a car in there?

Do you own so much stuff that you also pay rent on a storage unit? If so, you're not alone. Did you know that 8.96 percent of all American households currently rent a self storage unit? That's a whopping 10.85 million of the 113.3 million U.S. households in 2012, according to the Self Storage Association.

For six months, I've been plagued with the overwhelming task of downsizing my storage unit from a 10 x 20 unit to a 10 x 10 unit. Slowly but surely, I've been getting rid of stuff I no longer needed.

Every month when I paid my storage bill, I felt guilty. I felt I was wasting money renting a storage unit larger than I needed. But could I really squeeze it down to 10 x 10 feet?

Today, thanks to my friend and neighbor Bruce who pitched in to help me, we did just that. The impetus behind me finally doing this task is that my storage rent is increasing next month. After just a little more than two hours of work, the task was completed.

Most of the remaining stuff is stored in neatly stacked plastic storage bins with lids. I already had all these storage bins, but today I consolidated my stuff so it takes up less space.

As I swept the concrete floor of the empty storage unit, I looked at the cavernous space and hoped I'd never need to store such an enormous amount of stuff again.

We took a load of empty boxes to a nearby U-Haul storefront. Someone who is moving can use those boxes. I don't intend to move anytime soon. Last year, I moved three times in three months. In the past two years, I'd moved five times.

I have a few things to donate, including two throw pillows to a couch I donated three months ago. In December 2011 when I was laid off and had to sell my three story, 2,400-square-foot house, I started a practice of keeping a cardboard "donate" box near the front door or even in the car. It makes it easier to toss in things I no longer need and drop them off to my favorite thrift shop before I talk myself into keeping them.

Now everything I own fits into my 600-square foot apartment or my 10 x 10 storage unit. Even so, I still have too much stuff and will continue to lighten my load.

If I were still carrying the weight of so much stuff I no longer need, would I have found space in my life to reach out and become a new woman unafraid to paddle a dragon boat with the Mighty Women, beat an African drum, swing dance in a crowded pub, belly dance in front of a wall of mirrors and so many other adventures?

Before I pulled down the door on the smaller storage unit, I smiled. That bear of a task is done and no longer can haunt my dreams. Thanks, Bruce!

Simple Gifts

A Shaker song

'Tis the gift to be simple,

'Tis the gift to be free,

'Tis the gift to come down where you ought to be,

And when we find ourselves in the place just right,

It will be in the valley of love and delight.

When true simplicity is gained,

To bow and to bend we shan't be ashamed.

To turn, turn will be our delight,

'Til by turning, turning we come round right.

 .

I think I'll move to Australia

Did you ever read that children's book, "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible No Good, Very Bad Day" by Judith Viorst?

It's about a little boy who has one of those days that really blows. By the end of  his horrible day, when he's forced to wear his railroad train pajamas because his favorite jammies are in the wash, Alexander loses it and wants to move to Australia.

I'm ready for Australia too.

Lately, I've had a string of Alexander days. It's really an accumulation of challenges--from small ripples to crushing tsunami waves--threatening to overturn my canoe and to steal my joy. I'm paddling through these challenging waves, but it's hard to keep paddling when your arms ache.

Yesterday I felt exhausted from paddling so hard without making any progress. I wondered when I'd reach a calmer spot in the river so I can catch my breath.

I was lamenting the trials and tribulations buffeting my boat when I popped into a grocery store and had a reality check. In an "aha" moment, my eyes were averted from my own boat and problems.

I am only five-foot-two and often have to climb up grocery store shelves to reach my cereal or other out-of-reach item. Or sometimes I seek out a tall person to retrieve my cereal from the top shelf. Never in my life have I been someone else's tall person.

As I reached for something high above my head, a voice below me asked, "Would you grab one for me?"

I turned to see a tiny woman with many, many more challenges than I have. Her legs had not fully developed. She was sitting on a motorized platform scooter.

"Sure," I said, grabbing another. "Why do they put things up here so we short women can't reach them?"

"Beats me," she laughed.

At that moment, I realized that although my challenges are daunting, they aren't as enormous as I had imagined.

I'll paddle through them, one stroke at a time.

The passing of Val Ogden, a woman who paddled her own canoe

Yesterday afternoon, our community lost Val Ogden, a selfless leader, an advocate for children, women, the homeless, blind students, people coping with mental health issues. Serving six terms in the House of Representatives, she rolled up her sleeves and went to work for all of us. She made a difference right to the end, at age 90.

For me, Val was the epitome of a woman paddling her own canoe. She inspired me to be strong through difficult, life-changing challenges. But I never told her how she inspired me. And now it's too late to tell her.

Along Vancouver's Columbia River waterfront trail is the Val and Dan Ogden bench, donated by the Ogdens. It's fitting that the bench looks over the bronze sculpture of Ilchee, the Chinook woman known for paddling her own canoe.

I didn't want Val to think I was some nutty stalker. But here's what I wanted to tell Val:

Thanks to you and Dan for providing that bench near Ilchee. I've spent hours there, thinking, searching for strength and answers, scribbling in my journal, looking for ways to reach my potential. Thank you for inspiring me to be strong to get through the hard times, to dig deep, to make a difference, to find joy.

Yesterday I called friends Holly Chamberlain and Charlie Mitchell, told them the news of Val's passing and asked if they'd walk along the Columbia River with me to visit Val and Dan's bench. Holly cut yellow and red tulips from her garden and set them at the plaque below the Ogden's bench.

We talked about the difference Val made. Then we stood in front of Ilchee and watched a glorious sunset.

Conquering old fears: Leaving the bunny hill behind

Last weekend, I experienced the exhilaration of conquering a three-decade fear
when I left the bunny hill behind, rode the chair lift and skied down a big hill.
Yes, I fell. Multiple times. But I got up again and kept going.

Has a terrifying experience while trying something new paralyzed you from getting "back on the horse?"

At age 19, I had a frightening first experience on a ski slope that kept me from alpine skiing for 34 years. Apparently, I'm not the first woman who has been dragged up a ski lift by a well-meaning boyfriend without first having a lesson on the basics. I didn't know how to turn, slow down or stop.

However, I did know how to scream at a decibel level that registered in the next county. After nearly tumbling off the ski lift, I fell all the way down the mountain, screaming in terror. My sister, Judy, was working outside in the ski resort's restaurant that day and recognized my scream echoing from the top of the mountain all the way down to the lodge.

That horrific experience kept me from the slopes for 34 years.

Last winter, Kirby, a certified ski instructor and my significant other, taught me to snowplow, turn, stop, control my speed. On the itty-bitty hill, he skied backward in front of me, coaxing me down the hill. On the way back up, I rode the magic carpet lift with the other beginners, all younger than me by decades.

Next, I rode up the handle tow and snowplowed slowly down the bunny hill. Again, Kirby skied backward in front of me, encouraging me all the way down. After several runs, he asked if I was ready for the chair lift, but I wasn't. That fear of falling still gripped me. I skied the bunny hill all weekend.

This ski season, I was determined to conquer my fear. Kirby told me people don't fall off the chair lift. But I'm accomplished at falling. If anyone could fall off the chair lift, it would be me.

After I made two successful runs down the bunny hill, Kirby asked if I was ready for the chair lift. I gulped, but nodded. I knew I had to face my fear. As we skied toward the chair lift, I boosted my confidence with positive self-talk: "You are a Mighty Woman dragon boat paddler. You've done zip lining, stand up paddle board and belly dancing. You can do this."

Kirby coached me on how to hold my poles in one hand, grab the chair lift with the other hand and sit down. I had a klutzy nanosecond and accidentally dropped one of my poles. But the snowboarder behind us picked up my pole and took it to the top of the lift for me.

As we approached the point to get off the chair lift, Kirby calmly coached me again: "Stand up, go into a snowplow and ski to the right."

Although my heart was beating wildly, I did it--and I didn't fall!

Kirby took me down the easiest run, coaching me down the mountain. For the most part, I did OK, snowplowing extremely slowly in a wide zig-zag. But when skiers and snowboarders began zipping around me, I panicked, lost my nerve and fell. Multiple times. I became an expert at getting up.

But then I reminded myself: "You've got this! You're the girl with the dragon tattoo! You can do this."

That positive self-talk--and knowing how to control my skis--made all the difference. So did Kirby's calm encouragement. On the second day, I even did some parallel turns.

Then my legs got tired and I started falling again. On my last run of the weekend, we went down a hill that ended with a fast, straight stretch all the way down to the lodge.

In reality, I wasn't skiing that fast, but to me, it seemed I was zooming down the mountain. The best part was that I felt in complete control--and I didn't scream or fall. But I'm sure I smiled.

Next year, I'm going to parallel ski all the way down the mountain.

Dragon boat paddling: What to wear

With the season's first dragon boat races in the Pacific Northwest coming up in April, dragon boat teams are recruiting new paddlers now. One of the first questions newbies ask is: "What do I wear to paddle a dragon boat?"

First of all, I always wear my paddling dragon tattoo! It empowers me to move forward with confidence.

After paddling for two years in all kinds of weather--from 34 degrees to pounding rain to downright hot days--I have a good idea of what clothing works for me. Now that it's nearly spring and temperatures are well above freezing, it's time to shed our winter Gator Gloves and winter hats.

Every paddler has her own clothing preferences, body temperature and budget. You'll find what works for you through trial and error. You don't have to spend a fortune to outfit yourself for dragon boating, but if you insist on buying everything new and not on sale, you could.

I'm lucky to live in the Portland metro area with plenty of options for purchasing clothing. Almost every bit of my paddling clothing I've bought used, mostly at various Goodwill stores. The only things I insist on buying new is footwear and gloves. I wash all my thrift shop purchases before wearing them.

Here's what I wore this morning to paddle on a cloudy day with temperature around 50 degrees:

* Sports bra: quick dry and breathable. My favorite is a Nike Dri-fit with a comfy racing back. It covers my torso almost to my naval. It dries quickly, and that's crucial on race days when you'll wear your paddling clothes all day. On hot summer days, you'll want a regular sports bra.

* Paddling shirt: again,quick dry, moisture wicking and breathable. I prefer short sleeves because long sleeves get wet and make me uncomfortable. But some women prefer long sleeves.

* Paddling pants: quick dry and breathable. Regular yoga pants won't work because when you get them wet--and you WILL get your pants wet--they don't dry out, and then it feels as if you're wearing a wet diaper. I like the capris length. Our team wears black on the bottom, and so do many other teams. I do have a pair of full-length black pants to wear when it's a bit cold, but beginning in spring, I wear capris for practice and on race day. This race season I hope to buy these cool capris emblazoned with a dragon. They're available online via Double Fifth Dragon Boating.

* Paddling skort: On warm days, some women prefer paddling skorts, short skirts with built-in shorts underneath. I'm not ready to rock this look, but here's a picture of one from Double Fifth Dragon Boating. Some women also wear quick-dry shorts.

* Rain pants: Dragon boating is a water sport, and you will get wet. Sometimes you'll get a tiny bit wet; other days, you'll be soaked. You'll need rain gear for the top and bottom. My rain gear is from Goodwill. They don't match, but they keep me dry. This morning, when it was a little drizzly, I wore my capris paddling pants and on top of that, I wore my rain pants, which are Columbia Sportswear Omnitech pants with a drawstring waist (a must so you can cinch them tighter as you begin losing weight from the hard work of paddling a dragon boat!). Look for rain pants with zippered pockets. I paid only $9.95 for mine at Goodwill.

 

* Lightweight, quick drying, moisture-wicking, water repellant rain jacket: You'll be paddling in the rain and will need a good rain coat that falls below your waist and is comfortable to wear paddling. I found mine at Goodwill and paid $9.95. It has a hood with a drawstring I can cinch tight if I'm paddling in a deluge. The wrists have Velco around them so I can tighten and loosen it. The coat also has both interior and exterior zippered pockets. You don't want a fussy coat that's hard to remove because you might have to shed it quickly and fling it into the bottom of the boat, or sit on it during a water break. This morning, I was overheated and at our first water break, I pulled off my PFD, removed my raincoat, put my PFD back on, zipped it up, and gulped some water before our coach gave us the "paddles up" warning that our short break was over.

* Footwear: Most of the year I wear my Keen sandals when I paddle. They protect my toes, have sturdy tread, let water run through when I step into a boat with water at the bottom, and they let me feet breathe on hot days. During the cold, wet months of winter paddling, I usually wear my tall, rubber rain boots from Costco. I've seen them at Target too. However, some coaches don't want their paddlers wearing boots. If the boat fills with water and you have to swim, it would be difficult to swim wearing rubber boots that come almost up to your knees. When I first started paddling, I wore an old pair of rafting sandals, but they left my toes exposed. Some paddlers wear old sneakers. I tried that, but your feet always get wet, and wearing wet sneakers made my feet cold. But paddlers wear all kinds of footwear, and if you visit an outdoor store with a decent shoe department, you'll find many styles of river shoes.

* PFD (personal flotation device, or life jacket): Yes, you'll need one especially for paddling, and if it needs to be snug, hug your body, not ride up, but be comfy so you have full range of motion. You'll want one with zippered pockets. I bought mine used right off my coach's back! Teams usually have matching PFDs used only for race day, but paddlers need their own PFDs for practice. Portland DragonSports owns several one-size-fits-all PFDs down at the dock, but if you're a smaller person, you'll find it frustrating. And these often are damp. This photo is my dream PFD, an MTI Moxi. I don't own this, but hope to someday.

* Water bottle: You'll want a water bottle. During practice, we take our water bottles onto the boat, but on race day, we don't. Sometimes I reuse a plastic bottle from water I've purchased. I keep filling it up. You can spend more money and get better water bottles. Be warned that I've lost several water bottles that have bounced out of the boat.

* Dry sack to keep your valuables dry and safe. My first year of paddling, I didn't have a dry sack, and it was tough keeping my stuff dry on the boat, but my second year, I splurged and spent about $30 at REI for what's essentially a clear, plastic dry sack for my cell phone. It hangs around my neck by a sturdy cord. I put it underneath my PFD so it's not in the way. You can buy dry sacks of many sizes. When I kayak for the day, a larger dry sack can be tucked at my feet.

 

Paddling gloves: Some coaches frown upon their paddlers wearing gloves. I find it helps me have a firmer grip on my paddle. In the winter, I wear my heavy Glacier Gloves. The rest of the year, I wear lightweight half-finger Neoprene paddling gloves. I wash them often. After paddling, I hang my gloves immediately so they dry out.

* Waterproof wallet: Chum makes all manner of wallets for paddling. My everyday wallet has a removable inner wallet I pull out for paddling and stash in my PFD zippered pocket. It holds my driver's license, my debit card, my auto insurance card and health insurance card. It also opens in the center so I can tuck a little cash into it in case my team goes out for coffee or Second Breakfast after our Saturday morning paddle.

* Hat: I usually can't stand to wear a hat when I'm paddling because it gets in the way. However, when it's raining really hard, I wear my Australian outback Gore-Tex waterproof rain hat which has a chin strap so I can cinch it tighter and not lose it in the water.

 

Where to find paddling clothing: Goodwill and other thrift shops, but also REI and in Portland, the Next Adventure paddling store in Southeast. Tell them you're on a dragon boat team and you get a discount. A variety of websites offer online shopping for paddling gear. One of the best is DoubleFifth Dragon Boating.