Top 10 Tuesday

Samtusta—You have enough. You are enough. Samtusta is a Sanskrit for being “easily satisfied”. The little you may have brings you enough feel-good to live a contented life. This is one of the running themes of minimalism but you can approach this term in many ways. By no means am I a minimalist. I’m a maximalist. I own 1,000+ books, crochet too many hats, and have an affinity for blankets, notebooks, day packs, rocks, maps, and snippets of ephemera from my travels and explorations. However, I’m well aware that I do not need these things; in fact, when I’m at my most “zen” when I’m in my homebound domain, I am facing a wall with pen in hand. I can lose myself in the “farm house green” and the worn, wooden chairs across from me. Sometimes I’m looking through a bouquet of temporary flowers and I’m incredibly content. As Ted Kooser once said, “We grow/to be alone/with table and cup.”

Sarah Kay—I’ve admired the slam poet Sarah Kay for years. I recently listened to a podcast in which she was interviewed and she shared this:

“A Bird Made of Birds”

The universe has already written the poem you were planning on writing and this is why you can do nothing but point at the flock of starlings whose bodies rise and fall in inherited choreography, swarming the sky in a sweeping curtain that for one blistering moment forms the unmistakable shape of a giant bird flapping against the sky. It is why your mouth forms an oh. That is not a gasp, but rather the beginning of oh, of course, as in of course, the heart of a blue whale is as large as a house with chambers tall enough to fit a person standing.

Of course, a fig is only possible when a lady wasp lays her eggs inside a flower, dies and decomposes the fruit, evidence of her transformation. Sometimes the poem is so bright your silly language will not stick to it. Sometimes the poem is so true nobody will believe you. I am a bird made of birds, my blue heart a house you can stand up inside of. I am dying here, inside this flower. It is okay. It is what I was put here to do. Take this fruit. It is what I have to offer. It may not be first or ever best, but it is the only way to be sure I lived at all.

Rachel Carson Trail--The Rachel Carson Trail is an ~36 mile-long trail that spans from Harrison Hills Park to North Park in western Pennsylvania. I spent my young adulthood before moving to central PA hiking this trail and getting to know it quite intimately. The trail has gathered more popularity over the years and has undergone many changes due to the efforts of many good people. I wish I was around more to help with maintaining the trail but alas. This past weekend, I set foot on the trail for the first time in a while. I hiked up Bouquet Hill although it was covered in ice. I was searching for deer sheds but was unsuccessful but found some glorious, old fungi and of course the view of downtown New Kensington from atop Bouquet Hill is always mesmerizing. Below Boquet Hill, the Allegheny River meanders. I guess I still consider that river a vein of mine.

I have some extraordinary memories from my solitary explorations along that river. I remember walking to that river in a quiet snowstorm with my mom. We sat at a park bench and admired the factory lights reflecting off the river. The trail itself is a host of a yearly challenge to hike the entire trail on the Saturday closest to the summer solstice. It isn't quite a race but more of an endurance challenge to see if you can hike the entire ~36 miles between sunrise and sunset. The trail is unforgiving. Much of the trail traverses power line trails which are obviously exposed to the sun due to the lack of trees. I completed this challenge three times in my adulthood. My muscles would be squirming under my skin going up some of those hills. I always did it alone, knowing no one else doing the challenge. I have wonderful memories. I haven't done the challenge in a while but would like to do it one last time post ankle injuries. Which leads me to...

My Five Year Broken Ankleversary--On February 11th, 2017, I took Brian (at that time he was my boyfriend of almost one year) to a climbing wall gym in Pittsburgh. I had never done climbing like that before. I successfully scaled 40' walls three times while being belayed by Brian. I was so proud. After those walls, we headed to the bouldering section where you're not strapped into anything or belayed. The walls were only 10-12 feet and there were landing mats at the bottom. Brian went off on his own and I started to climb the first wall I saw. I made it to the top but by then my arm muscles were fatigued from climbing. I started navigating my way back down but couldn't hold myself up anymore so I let go and landed awkwardly on my feet and then plopped onto my butt. I sat there in a daze for a moment, not realizing that I was going into shock. A numbness overtook both of my feet and the signals my brain were sending to my feet were not registering. Brian eventually walked up to me. "Did you fall?" he asked and I sheepishly said yes while breaking into a cold sweat and becoming suddenly thirsty. "Can I help you up?" he asked and I said I didn't think I'd be able to get up but I'd try. He helped me up and there it was, the wrongness of it all. I was in no pain whatsoever but there was a heavy sense of wrongness about everything. I was back on my butt, my hearing becoming muffled and the words coming from my mouth sounding very far away. I said, "It's like there's a crunchiness in my left ankle and a looseness in my right ankle." Little did I know that I accurately diagnosed my broken fibula and tibia in my left ankle and the dislocation of my right foot as well as the break of the most important bone in the foot--the talus. It's the keystone of the ankle that allows the fibula and tibia to rock back and forth, allowing range of motion and extension of the muscles in the legs. My surgeon later told me that not only did I break one of the ten worst bones in the body to break, but I broke the worst part of the worst bone in the body to break. Lots of metal later, I am back on my feet months before the surgeon said I'd be walking unassisted again. He also told me (many, many times as if it were a liability) that I'd never be able to comfortably hike again. Hiking is my life.

Five years later, here I am with little to no range-of-motion in my right foot. I am about 50 pounds heavier (I take credit for that, of course, but I used to run ten miles for fun after work pre-injury). Lots of sadness, feelings of defeat, and frustration has plagued me over the years. But on the flip side, I have a good outlook and a great group of people who love and support me. That same year, I hiked up the third highest mountain in Vermont with Brian who two years later asked me to be his wife. I'm still enjoying the uneven surfaces of the world but not with without pain, discomfort, slowness, and embarrassing clumsiness. Add extra weight on top of that and I'm a bit depressed but there are solutions to that, of course. And I'm learning (despite what my surgeon said) that it may be a possibility to get the metal removed from my ankles. I'm most concerned about the little solo screw in my right foot (it's the only metal in that foot). I think it's the main cause for my lack of motion. Wish me luck.

Seeing My Galentine--After my hike on the Rachel Carson Trail this past weekend, I saw my friend Jenn for the first time in a long time. She and I couldn't be any more different from one another. Her words--my idea of going outdoors is going out to get packages off my porch. A gaggle of us would go out exploring "haunted" places during high school. She's a surgical tech and explained to me that it may be possible for me to get the metal out of my feet. She showed my x-rays to a surgeon she has worked with and he's willing to meet with me.

Suspirium by Thom Yorke--Thom Yorke is the lead singer from the band Radiohead. The king of the minor chord, his singing is a sound that echoes in all my caves. This past week, I have been enjoying this song that you can listen to below:

On Being too Inward--I had a bad mental health morning days ago. When I was on my commute to work and I was on the entrance ramp to Interstate 99, I realized that a lot of my bad feelings stem from me being too inward. I spend a lot of time thinking thinking about ways to be a better version of myself and to be honest, I think it's toxic to put so much focus on mindfulness (to a point), stoicism, etc. I'm a student of mindfulness, some Buddhism, and stoicism (none of that boss-bitch stuff or pseudo-science) but while on that entrance ramp, I realized that I'm at my happiest when I'm very outside myself. I've been at my happiest lately when learning to brew kombucha, crocheting items for people, learning about vermicomposting, and learning what I can about gardening, meadowscaping, and ecosystems. I work 40+ hours a week in mental health and my hobby of learning about it, embracing it, and "self-improvement" needs to go by the wayside.

Lupercalia--Today is a Pagan holiday that celebrates "cleanliness" and fertility. It's a day of purging and in ancient times, many salacious festivities took place. Some folks interpreted as a time to purify themselves or even treat it as a late-winter spring cleaning. I don't celebrate Pagan holidays but I find them fascinating and want to acknowledge them.

Plants Feel Pain and Might Even See--I read an interesting article by Peter Wohlleben about how the study of plants has discovered that plants are quite sentient. The article also discusses the real meaning of "survival of the fittest" and how that definition can reconfigure the hierarchy of animals (humans included) on this planet. Did you know that a certain kind of ivy in South America has shown that its leaves may be temporary eyes?

A Walk with Frank--After work, I wanted to take a stroll in the wetlands near my home and see whatever allowed me to see it. When I got there, my pal Frank was there. We met last year at a conservation effort in those wetlands. I call him the Snow White of the Wetlands considering that he does a lot of work "to make walks here more interesting." He's incredibly tall, kind, knowledgeable, and modest. I was glad to walk a lap around the wetlands with him. We learn from each other (I learn more from him than him from me). He's old enough to be my father, but passion and curiosity for the outdoors knows no ages.