Sadie and I hiked the Gedney Creek
trail today right off the Selway
after riding through potholes behind
a big truck of woo hoos, each guy
with his girl, chubby hands
holding – thighs groping.
Finally at the trail head – walking
deeper into solitude, the smell of
green filling me so much I could
climax – and the glacier white creek
flying reckless over humble boulders –
I could smell that too.
And suddenly I see the mountain,
ghostly and making me hold my breath,
wanting to reach it but deciding instead
to stay in this rainforest and waterfall
land, plunging into more of that green.
© Larissa Chace Smith
Selway River, Idaho, May 25, 2002
Friday, February 1, 2008
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Time On My Side, Part 2
When I made my resolution about reevaluating my relationship with time, and lowering my standards of how much I get done with my time, I was on vacation and had less on my to-do list. Now that I am several weeks into January, and have much more on my list, I have found this goal to be much more of a challenge than I had foreseen.
I think the big issue at hand is that I still “assign” myself too much. I am fighting my perfectionist urges (remember, I am a Virgo and first-born child) and trying to keep up with what “needs” to get done all at the same time. It’s a vicious cycle. And I often end up approaching certain tasks joylessly such as, “Oh god, I still need to send a baby gift to so-and-so, and I never seem to have time to sit down and knit that baby washcloth that I am making to give a meaningful gift and save money.” Do you ever have these thoughts? I mean, I seriously stress about this petty stuff!
I think this morning I am heading into my day with the urge to “pare down” my list to what I really feel will truly add value to my life and take me further toward my macro-goals.
I wish to let go of all the micro-management tasks that seem to pile up and send me into a frenzy of “I have so much to do,” which is not a pleasant feeling and often entirely untrue. My husband will often catch me walking through the house with furrowed brow, sighing while deep in thought about all the things I “have” to do. My stress often gets passed on to him, and that is not something I am proud of.
But can I just take things off my list without feeling guilty about not doing them? I know I have control over my thoughts and how I perceive things. But it’s often very difficult to harness those runaway, reeling thought patterns and focus on what is important – to focus on what I have accomplished, not what is left on my list.
Resolutions take time, so I will keep you posted on how I take on this challenge for the sake of bettering the quality of my life – and those around me.
Do you have any thoughts to share about how you perceive time? How do you pare down your list?
I think the big issue at hand is that I still “assign” myself too much. I am fighting my perfectionist urges (remember, I am a Virgo and first-born child) and trying to keep up with what “needs” to get done all at the same time. It’s a vicious cycle. And I often end up approaching certain tasks joylessly such as, “Oh god, I still need to send a baby gift to so-and-so, and I never seem to have time to sit down and knit that baby washcloth that I am making to give a meaningful gift and save money.” Do you ever have these thoughts? I mean, I seriously stress about this petty stuff!
I think this morning I am heading into my day with the urge to “pare down” my list to what I really feel will truly add value to my life and take me further toward my macro-goals.
I wish to let go of all the micro-management tasks that seem to pile up and send me into a frenzy of “I have so much to do,” which is not a pleasant feeling and often entirely untrue. My husband will often catch me walking through the house with furrowed brow, sighing while deep in thought about all the things I “have” to do. My stress often gets passed on to him, and that is not something I am proud of.
But can I just take things off my list without feeling guilty about not doing them? I know I have control over my thoughts and how I perceive things. But it’s often very difficult to harness those runaway, reeling thought patterns and focus on what is important – to focus on what I have accomplished, not what is left on my list.
Resolutions take time, so I will keep you posted on how I take on this challenge for the sake of bettering the quality of my life – and those around me.
Do you have any thoughts to share about how you perceive time? How do you pare down your list?
Thursday, January 17, 2008
When A Song Is A Place
When one lives out West, in the open spaces, one can develop a curious appreciation for country music, even when country music used the be the only kind of music one did not like. Now, when I hear the call of the lonesome steel guitar and a voice that sounds like it’s haunting a desert, I long for places in which I used to dwell.
I miss the hollow, steel cold beauty of the winding Columbia River where I drove more than once through the night to get to the Oregon Coast, the Seven Sisters of the Cascade mountains looming in the distance like great ships. It was on one of these drives that I first fell in love with the music of Neko Case - and in the desert along the Green River* in Utah, where I first came to understand that a song can be a place. I was on a five-day river trip with friends when I poked my head out of my tent one cold morning to find Neko Case’s song “Deep Red Bells” staring at me across the parched landscape. A skeleton tree stood windblown, and the land stretched beyond it, hues of dull pink and gray hanging on the horizon. I froze, like the dead tree, as the song lured me toward the edge of something I still cannot fully explain. I could call it misery, but it was something I longed to be a part of forever. I felt as if I had seen a unicorn, as if I was one of the fortunate few to be able to see a place that was a song, even for that brief moment of my life. That vision followed me for the rest of the trip and for many years since. Whenever I hear the song today I get an ache in my gut to see that mythical animal again.
One always longs for something that can never truly be grasped.
How has music mystified you?
*Ironically, it was the Green River Killer of the Seattle/Tacoma area that inspired Neko to write "Deep Red Bells".
I miss the hollow, steel cold beauty of the winding Columbia River where I drove more than once through the night to get to the Oregon Coast, the Seven Sisters of the Cascade mountains looming in the distance like great ships. It was on one of these drives that I first fell in love with the music of Neko Case - and in the desert along the Green River* in Utah, where I first came to understand that a song can be a place. I was on a five-day river trip with friends when I poked my head out of my tent one cold morning to find Neko Case’s song “Deep Red Bells” staring at me across the parched landscape. A skeleton tree stood windblown, and the land stretched beyond it, hues of dull pink and gray hanging on the horizon. I froze, like the dead tree, as the song lured me toward the edge of something I still cannot fully explain. I could call it misery, but it was something I longed to be a part of forever. I felt as if I had seen a unicorn, as if I was one of the fortunate few to be able to see a place that was a song, even for that brief moment of my life. That vision followed me for the rest of the trip and for many years since. Whenever I hear the song today I get an ache in my gut to see that mythical animal again.
One always longs for something that can never truly be grasped.
How has music mystified you?
*Ironically, it was the Green River Killer of the Seattle/Tacoma area that inspired Neko to write "Deep Red Bells".
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
A New Year, A New Start
Dearest friends and family,
I am finally ready to sit back down to my blog after weeks of holiday fun. I have great feelings about 2008, and I am excited to share my thoughts and ideas with you over the coming year. I have truly appreciated your readership and comments during the past 8 months, and hope to continue hearing from you this year.
I will start my blog entries for 2008 in a simple manner. Without question, this time of year is defined by the resolutions we make, maintain, and discard. I have been reading many blogs lately offering advice about resolutions. Some of us don't make them, some of us do; it is a very subjective and personal decision, and no matter how big of a deal our society and media make them, resolutions can be the simplest of wishes. I won't offer advice about making or keeping them, I will simply share mine for this year. I have learned that focusing on one macro-goal, in lieu of a plethora of micro-goals, is the easiest way to keep the resolution alive over the months. So here it is:
To set lower expectations for what I do with my time, and be OK with what I choose to do with it. What I do and accomplish is enough.
I have been enjoying this fresh perspective as I settle into the new year. Focusing on this larger goal allows the little things to fall into place more naturally. This particular one works well for me because I am a bit of a perfectionist and often feel that I should be doing something else with my time. Enough, I say! And that is what it will be...enough. I will ask myself what I really want to do, not what I think I should do, or what would be the best or coolest thing. I will not apologize for what I choose to do with my time; what I choose to do is the right thing for me.
Do you have any goals for 2008 to share?
Happy New Year!
I am finally ready to sit back down to my blog after weeks of holiday fun. I have great feelings about 2008, and I am excited to share my thoughts and ideas with you over the coming year. I have truly appreciated your readership and comments during the past 8 months, and hope to continue hearing from you this year.
I will start my blog entries for 2008 in a simple manner. Without question, this time of year is defined by the resolutions we make, maintain, and discard. I have been reading many blogs lately offering advice about resolutions. Some of us don't make them, some of us do; it is a very subjective and personal decision, and no matter how big of a deal our society and media make them, resolutions can be the simplest of wishes. I won't offer advice about making or keeping them, I will simply share mine for this year. I have learned that focusing on one macro-goal, in lieu of a plethora of micro-goals, is the easiest way to keep the resolution alive over the months. So here it is:
To set lower expectations for what I do with my time, and be OK with what I choose to do with it. What I do and accomplish is enough.
I have been enjoying this fresh perspective as I settle into the new year. Focusing on this larger goal allows the little things to fall into place more naturally. This particular one works well for me because I am a bit of a perfectionist and often feel that I should be doing something else with my time. Enough, I say! And that is what it will be...enough. I will ask myself what I really want to do, not what I think I should do, or what would be the best or coolest thing. I will not apologize for what I choose to do with my time; what I choose to do is the right thing for me.
Do you have any goals for 2008 to share?
Happy New Year!
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Happy Holidays, One and All!
Hello to my dear friends and readers,
I will be taking a brief hiatus from my blog writing due to the constraints of the Holiday Season, my business, etc. I am presently working on an entry about liminal stages, since I feel I am coming out of one as of late. However, would you agree that the holidays are a bit liminal as well? This is the time of year when we push things on the to-do list to 2008, let bygones be bygones, and busy ourselves with other things for a while - getting ready for the rituals of the season, and the big transition into the New Year. It is a very, very special, almost surreal time of year, no doubt.
I will be back at the beginning of January with more anecdotes about life for us to ponder together. I wish you all the best of the season, whatever your traditions or beliefs. Enjoy the Winter Solstice, and the shortest day of the year! Don't forget to eat some unhealthy food, allow your hugs to last a bit longer than usual, and savor every last moment of 2007. After all, this is the only 2007 we'll ever have.
Peace, Cheers, and Merriment,
Larissa
(I love this photo of my sister in our kitchen, decorating Christmas cookies.)
I will be taking a brief hiatus from my blog writing due to the constraints of the Holiday Season, my business, etc. I am presently working on an entry about liminal stages, since I feel I am coming out of one as of late. However, would you agree that the holidays are a bit liminal as well? This is the time of year when we push things on the to-do list to 2008, let bygones be bygones, and busy ourselves with other things for a while - getting ready for the rituals of the season, and the big transition into the New Year. It is a very, very special, almost surreal time of year, no doubt.
I will be back at the beginning of January with more anecdotes about life for us to ponder together. I wish you all the best of the season, whatever your traditions or beliefs. Enjoy the Winter Solstice, and the shortest day of the year! Don't forget to eat some unhealthy food, allow your hugs to last a bit longer than usual, and savor every last moment of 2007. After all, this is the only 2007 we'll ever have.
Peace, Cheers, and Merriment,
Larissa
(I love this photo of my sister in our kitchen, decorating Christmas cookies.)Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Migrations of My Youth
My husband and I have made some relatively significant transitions in our young lives thus far. Apparently I had a secret yearning to live the life of an Army brat - though my parents are teachers - considering that I have moved all over the country since leaving home after high school. First came Boston, then Moscow, Idaho, then Austin, Texas. I feel fortunate to have sampled so many diverse regions of our great country; I have rubbed elbows with cowboys and cowgirls, Mormons, Mass-holes, hippies, and yuppies. From the East Coast to the Third Coast, I have become well-versed in moving my life around and making big transitions.
What does it mean to move? To migrate? To transition? I have found that it has most often refreshed my spirit and forced my eyes to see new things I may have missed before - about life, people, my country, etc. Any notion of a schedule goes out the window for those days/weeks/months during which you make the transition. It is also a perfect way to break down any semblance of a comfort zone one may have instituted during a settled period.
Likewise, in migrating, I have met many migratory people. These people, including myself I'm sure, seem to view life from a wide-open perspective, allowing people into their lives with ease knowing that to make the time in a certain location memorable, you must "love the one you're with," so to speak. My migrant friends also seem to be very good at staying in touch, perhaps more than my more settled friends do. We are invited to each others' weddings, send each other Holiday cards, and make the occasion phone call just to talk. Oftentimes, I end up speaking with a far-away pal more frequently than one who lives just down the road.
What is an aspect of moving that I am not so fond of? Potential for years of something best expressed in Portuguese: saudade, an amalgamation of longing, nostalgia, homesickness, yearning, particularly in regards to a place one may never return to. I knew that I would return to my roots from time to time, for visits and vacations, but would this place always linger in my heart in such a way? Would I ever be successful in moving back for good? And would it be all that I had hoped an dreamed it would be? For there is a certain romance and mystique surrounding a place for which one might experience saudade. I feared that I might return to this place and find myself wanting to leave again, forever searching, longing, and migrating.
So far, my transition home to Mercersburg, PA, to this place I have longed for, though I cannot always explain why, seems more resolute than others, especially now that we are moved into the farmhouse. It is a rental house, but a house nonetheless, one where we could grow a family, live below our means, and save for the future. There is much promise in this house. Whether my Army brat tendencies will start to itch, only time will tell. For now, I just want to be here, sit in this quiet, spacious house as the world spins around me, walk along horse pastures and watch deer as they watch me, unblinking - let my late 20s be a time to contemplate migrations of the past and the stillness of today.
Ryan and I play with Sadie during our first snow
Our new home!
What does it mean to move? To migrate? To transition? I have found that it has most often refreshed my spirit and forced my eyes to see new things I may have missed before - about life, people, my country, etc. Any notion of a schedule goes out the window for those days/weeks/months during which you make the transition. It is also a perfect way to break down any semblance of a comfort zone one may have instituted during a settled period.
Likewise, in migrating, I have met many migratory people. These people, including myself I'm sure, seem to view life from a wide-open perspective, allowing people into their lives with ease knowing that to make the time in a certain location memorable, you must "love the one you're with," so to speak. My migrant friends also seem to be very good at staying in touch, perhaps more than my more settled friends do. We are invited to each others' weddings, send each other Holiday cards, and make the occasion phone call just to talk. Oftentimes, I end up speaking with a far-away pal more frequently than one who lives just down the road.
What is an aspect of moving that I am not so fond of? Potential for years of something best expressed in Portuguese: saudade, an amalgamation of longing, nostalgia, homesickness, yearning, particularly in regards to a place one may never return to. I knew that I would return to my roots from time to time, for visits and vacations, but would this place always linger in my heart in such a way? Would I ever be successful in moving back for good? And would it be all that I had hoped an dreamed it would be? For there is a certain romance and mystique surrounding a place for which one might experience saudade. I feared that I might return to this place and find myself wanting to leave again, forever searching, longing, and migrating.
So far, my transition home to Mercersburg, PA, to this place I have longed for, though I cannot always explain why, seems more resolute than others, especially now that we are moved into the farmhouse. It is a rental house, but a house nonetheless, one where we could grow a family, live below our means, and save for the future. There is much promise in this house. Whether my Army brat tendencies will start to itch, only time will tell. For now, I just want to be here, sit in this quiet, spacious house as the world spins around me, walk along horse pastures and watch deer as they watch me, unblinking - let my late 20s be a time to contemplate migrations of the past and the stillness of today.
Ryan and I play with Sadie during our first snow
Our new home!Monday, December 3, 2007
Tiny Snowflakes in the Air
Hello friends,
Please excuse my brief entry for this week as my husband and I make our move from his parents' house to a farmhouse down the road. We have a lot to sort through and organize, but are very excited to have found such a beautiful place to live. Every window has the most breathtaking view, I just have to stop and stare.
Last night was the first time we slept in the house. The wind howled all night and it was very dark compared to his parents' house in town, so it was a bit of an adjustment. This morning was quiet and peaceful as Ryan and I shared our first breakfast alone together in a long while. We sat at our little, blue kitchen table, drank our coffee and tea, and looked around quietly at our new living space.
I will give you an update next week as we get settled in.
All the best to you all during this Holiday Season!
Larissa
Please excuse my brief entry for this week as my husband and I make our move from his parents' house to a farmhouse down the road. We have a lot to sort through and organize, but are very excited to have found such a beautiful place to live. Every window has the most breathtaking view, I just have to stop and stare.
Last night was the first time we slept in the house. The wind howled all night and it was very dark compared to his parents' house in town, so it was a bit of an adjustment. This morning was quiet and peaceful as Ryan and I shared our first breakfast alone together in a long while. We sat at our little, blue kitchen table, drank our coffee and tea, and looked around quietly at our new living space.
I will give you an update next week as we get settled in.
All the best to you all during this Holiday Season!
Larissa
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