Mud Season Hiking

My son and I started hiking two weeks ago. I used to post our hikes on this blog, but we are the new "hiking with kids" bloggers on the Schroon Lake Region site and we're putting our trip reports there from now on. You can follow our trip reports on our blog page.

During our hikes we have encountered snow, herons, frogs and, of course, mud. It's great to be outside, though. And it's great to see spring returning to the Adirondacks.

Defining Wellness

Headlamps are useful before dawn.

This morning I woke my nine year old at 5:00 a.m. for a sunrise hike to a pond near our home. We didn't actually get to see the sun rise due to an overabundance of clouds, it was cold and the pond was still frozen, but we enjoyed our first hike of 2013 anyway. It was as much an acknowledgement of my own return to wellness as it was a celebration of the start of mud season in the Adirondacks.

My husband is not a morning person. When I announced our planned hike, he noted that my idea of wellness is someone else's idea of insanity. This had me thinking that it is impossible to define wellness in a broad sense. We each have to define wellness in our own terms, and we only can by knowing our own bodies, minds and spirits.

This is very evident whenever I get together with the Bona Fide Butterflies, who include myself and my two friends and partners Annie Gregson and Beti Spangel. Together we facilitate empowering retreats and workshops for women. We strive to help women design and live authentic, inspired lives based on their individual values.

Individual values - that's the key. Society likes to tell us what to value. Media gets paid to tell us what to value. But it's our individual values, the ones that come from the heart, that make us unique, that keep everyone from being the same and living the same life according to the same plan. It's our individual values that make human existence diverse, colorful and fun. 

The BFBs

Annie and Beti are incredible women living joyful lives of their own design. Neither one of them is likely to start training for a marathon. Neither one wants to teach yoga, although they enjoy their own yoga practices. Annie, a life coach, also makes incredible art. She has lots of time in her life for long walks in the woods with her dog, and she throws fun, seemingly spontaneous parties. Beti has horses and chickens on her homestead, and she makes yummy cheese. She can drive a tractor. She's also an awesome writer.

Our differences are what we have in common. All three of us have taken the time to figure out what's important to us and we've created lives that honor those things. Unique, diverse, authentic lives. Our own definitions of wellness. 

The other thing we have in common is a road in Schroon Lake, where we're neighbors in the "I'll drive a few miles up the road to your house" sense of the word. I think fate had something to do with that.

Take a look at the Bona Fide Butterflies website and see the workshops and retreats we offer. We're also on Facebook. 

I'm heading to a yoga class to stretch out sore hiking and running muscles, and to honor my own idea of wellness.

Here it comes...

“And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.” 
~ F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

The calendar says summer doesn't begin until June 20th, but here in our lake town Memorial Day marks the start of the summer season. We welcome back our seasonal residents, who take advantage of the long weekend to open their Adirondack homes, mow their lawns and launch their boats. This year, Schroon Lake is marking the start of summer with a weekend-long celebration, including a non-motorized boat chain across the lake, a motorized boat parade, live music, and, one of my favorites, a rock climbing wall. Plus there is an Expo in the park and on Main Street on Saturday afternoon. I'll be in the park manning True North Yoga's booth, which will host a bellydance demonstration by Natalie, who is returning for another series of workshops this summer, and leading a "welcome summer with sun salutations" mini-class.

The Expo runs from 2:00 - 8:00 pm on Saturday. The studio is also open for all regularly scheduled yoga classes during the long weekend, so you can take a break from lawn-mowing and boat-launching and enjoy some serious relaxation. Be warned, though. Yoga has been known to inspire hammock-hanging and nap-taking, leaving the lawn growing until June.

It always seems like a mad dash to reach the lazy days of summer, and this year was no exception. Determined not to leave anything until the last minute, I've been frantically getting everything ready at not-quite the last minute. It's been lots of work, and I'm short a few hours sleep, but there's some wonderful stuff lined up at the yoga studio for June, July and August.

Now I can give some thought to my family's summer plans, including plays by the Adirondack Shakespeare Company, musicals at Seagle Music Colony and performances at the Boathouse Theater sponsored by the Arts Council, all right here in Schroon Lake. And there are mountains to climb and rivers to paddle.

Do you make plans for summer? Back in the days when vacations needed to be scheduled in advanced and day camps arranged, I usually had my summer calendar filled in by the end of March. Now that we live where we used to vacation, I've let summer unroll on it's own. But I've found that without a plan, or at least a clear intention, the hours and days fly by and I feel like we didn't do much of anything. Last year I started Wednesday adventures with my eight-year-old, to make sure we at least climbed a mountain each week. This year I'm setting more intentions and I'm going to formalize them a bit more with a fun e-course called "My Summer Manifesto," led by Kelly Dahl, personal coach and editor of Sparrow Magazine. (Speaking of Sparrow Magazine, look for an article by yours truly in the summer issue, which goes live on June 1).

There's lots to do in Schroon Lake this summer. I'm looking forward to seeing all my summer yoga students and enjoying the time between classes with my family. Get ready, because here it comes!

New Beginnings

"Spring is a heart full of hope and a shoe full of rain."

~Unknown

The plants in the studio window know it's spring.

It's spring break for the school kids in the Adirondacks and, for those who didn't travel to warmer climates, it's been a week of cool temperatures and a persistent drizzle that can't quite morph into a decent April shower. My kids, as well as many others, have spent the first half of their break in bed with the flu. My plans to drag them into the springtime woods have unraveled into repetitive tea-with-honey making and temperature taking. And I am getting to practice acceptance. As I often tell my yoga students, it is what it is.

As nature begins to paint herself green, I find myself again at a new beginning. Over the course of a few challenging weeks I re-created  the business plan for the yoga studio - a very rewarding experience which helped me focus my energy and rediscover the heart of the business. And I saw opportunities to expand the True North Yoga community and bring more energy into the studio, but I also saw that I couldn't do it all myself. So I yelled "help," because in the Adirondacks that's all you need to do and help will show up.

The seeds of ideas, fed by hours on the phone and endless emails with cohorts new and old, have blossomed into a really fantastic late-spring and summer schedule that has me bursting with excitement. (And I'm not done yet.) Every other month we'll be hosting a Reiki Share Circle for the local Reiki practitioner community. Annie Gregson's monthly Women's Circle will continue. The new Body Shop classes will also continue, as will our other classes, although there will be a few schedule changes beginning in May, which I will be announcing soon.

What really has me jumping for joy are the workshops. In early June, Wayne White will be leading a West African Drumming workshop (my toes tap just thinking about it), wellness coach Wendy Gallup will be presenting "Lower Your Cholesterol for Life," and we'll host Todd Cunningham's "Introduction to Energy Healing."

During the summer, Natalie will be bringing her amazing bellydance workshops back to the studio. I will be teaching two workshops - arm balancing and back bends. And more will be added when I get back on the phone.

I will be expanding the retail selection at the studio, and will have available, among other things, Wayne White's CD and Todd Cunningham's new book. 

On Saturday, May 26th, Schroon Lake will be celebrating "Opening Weekend" with an expo at the town park. True North Yoga will be there with information about all the classes and workshops, a bellydance demonstration and 30 minutes of sun salutations to welcome summer. Mark your calendars and join us!

There may be rain, but spring has me full of hopeful anticipation. What new beginnings has spring brought you?

The Resuscitation of Wednesday Adventures

Since the unseasonably high temperatures are probably the first sign that the Mayans were right and the human race is doomed in December, I figured I'd better take advantage of the time I have left and not let a beautiful day go by without getting outside. When my husband saw me pull out my hiking boots, he took a vacation day to join me.

Mount Severance happens to be just a few minutes down the road from our house and is a great first hike of the season. It's short, not even 2 miles round trip, but just steep enough to wake up our legs after a winter's rest. And the views from the summit are outstanding.

We watched the ice melting on Schroon Lake

I enjoy hiking mid-week because we often have the trails to ourselves. We were on our own at the summit until two gentlemen came over the crest. The elder looked like he was wearing his "Sunday drive" clothes and I wondered if his wife would scold him for getting mud on his shoes. (While the mud wasn't too bad due to the lack of snow this winter, there was still a number of squishy spots.) The younger snapped a few pictures, then they disappeared back down the mountain and we were left to eat lunch in peace.

Mountaintops are perfect places to journal

And it was peaceful. Other than the hum of trucks going by on Route 87 below, there was nothing but the birds singing and the shutter clicking on my husband's camera as he captured the view. The breeze carried the smell of pine.

When I get to mountaintops, I never want to leave. When the mountain is serene and the sky is a perfect blue, the sun is warm with just enough breeze to keep it comfortable, and it's too early in the season for bugs except a few happy butterflies, I need to be dragged back down, kicking and screaming. (That is a bit of an exaggeration, but I really didn't want to leave.)

The last of the snowmelt running downhill made the stream very pretty

My husband and I wandered down the back side of the mountain for a bit, delaying our descent. When we returned to the summit we discovered we were again not alone, but this time one of the trio which had arrived was a friend of ours. It would have been nice to stay and chat, but we did have to beat the school bus home.

Being married to an amateur photographer requires patience

It's been a tough month, preparing for a busier spring and summer at the yoga studio and launching the Bona Fide Butterflies, and I needed an adventure. And, judging from how heavy my legs felt, my body needed a hike. The mountaintop breathed new life into me and I'm ready to get back to the work at hand.

I'm grateful to Mother Nature for a beautiful Wednesday, even if it's the calm before the apocalypse. I hope She lets me summit a few more High Peaks before she wipes us out. Or, better yet, She gives us another chance.

December 7 - Tranquilo (Calm)

Image via Wikipedia

Sometimes the most beautiful, memorable moments are also the quietest. What quiet, beautiful moment do you recall?

As the moon waxes towards fullness this weekend, I recall gazing at a summer full moon. I had unrolled my yoga mat on the sand at Schroon Lake's town beach and honored the moon's fullness with round after round of Chandra Namaskar, yoga's moon salutations. The beach was quiet while I flowed through the feminine, hip-opening movements; the sun-worshipping beach-goers had settled into their vacation homes or one of the local eateries for the evening. As I repeated my vinyasa, the moon rose over the mountains.

When my asana practice was complete, I sat on my mat and focused my gaze on the moon and the clouds that slowly drifted in front of it. For many minutes I got lost in the moon's light glittering on the lake. The lake is busy during the day, full of power boats and jet skis, but under the full moon the lake was quiet. The only sound was the gentle lapping of the waves on the beach.

Summers here are busy, even a bit chaotic, making quiet moments all the more meaningful. I thank the moon for sharing it's beautiful energy in a rare moment of peaceful quiet.

Quieting Down

Image via WikipediaAfter Columbus Day weekend, Schroon Lake gets really quiet. The vacation homes have been closed up for the winter. Some of the snow birds are already migrating to Florida and the rest will soon follow. Other than a few die-hard leaf-peepers and a handful of hikers, the visitors are gone.

Like most of the local business owners who work very hard over the summer, my first reaction to the quiet is a sigh of relief. This is followed by a brief moment of panic about paying the studio's rent in the winter until I remind myself that this is my third winter here and the studio has done just fine during the lean months. Next is the serious stuff - deciding how to spend my time.

Compared to eight short weeks of jamming in everything I possibly can while the sun is out, the eight months of cold ahead should be flush with time, right? And yet I always seem to end up on the brink of summer not having accomplished all the things I was going to do during the winter so I'd be ready for the summer craziness. Other than losing a hour or two (or twenty) to shoveling snow, there should be lots of time for reading all those books, making some art and knitting. There should also be time for planning and preparing so next summer isn't a rushed blur.

Where does all that time go?

I spent my free time in September making lists. I have a pile of them, listing all the things that I need to start doing, or start doing again. My problem is that without a looming deadline, it's too easy to put stuff off. Just as I have a hard time sticking to triathlon or run training without an upcoming race, I can't seem to find motivation for tasks until failure to do them creates a crisis and, let's face it, most things don't.

Is there a part of your year that quiets down? Are you able to use your quiet times to move forward with your goals or dreams? Or do they get away from you?

I'd love to hear your thoughts.

The (Long Overdue) "Thank You" Post

Please indulge me, because I have a long list of people to thank.  Each time I walk into the new True North Yoga studio, it is their energies that I feel, because they put something of themselves into it.

Thank you...

...to my parents, who gifted me with the madness to dream and taught me that whatever I do, I should do it right.  And when I decide to follow a mad dream, they give their own time and their own sweat to help me make it a reality.  Thank you, Mom and Dad, for painting and fixing and fussing over small details.  Dad, thank you especially for going a bit crazy over the floor, because it looks great.

...to Annie, who spent hours and hours balanced precariously balanced on top of a ladder with a paintbrush in her hand, first edging around the ceilings, then painting the mural.  (Good thing you do all that yoga, Annie!)  And when she finally came down off the ladder, it was to paint the sign that hangs outside.  Annie, I appreciate the three weeks you spent with green paint on your hands and a sore shoulder.  But I think the thing I am most grateful for is your friendship and support.  Oh, and my family says "thanks again" for feeding them.

...to Myriam, for helping us paint and for your wonderful Chai Lattes, without which I never would have accomplished everything I did in three short weeks.  And let's not forget the awesome sandwiches and crepes at your Morningstar Bistro, which are undeniably the best in Schroon Lake.  I loved every time you stopped in to see how we were doing and I'm glad we're almost neighbors on Main Street.

...to Sharon, who puts paint on a wall faster than anyone I've seen.  I appreciate your encouragement and support and that you took some time out from running your inn to help me paint.

...to Ginny, for joining the painting crew and bringing your wonderful light energy into the place.

...to Beti, for writing a wonderful press release and sending it where it needed to go.  I was really excited to see us in the paper!

...to my children, Melanie and Tristan, for all the afternoons you walked over after school to hang out with your mom.  Melanie, thank you for painting and cleaning and helping me decorate (and stopping me before good intentions turn tacky).  Tristan, you did many evenings of homework sitting on the floor and I know how difficult it was to have your routine disrupted so much.  You are a really good kid.  Thank you for being you.

...to my dear husband, Rob, for saying "go for it" and doing so much hard work to make the space beautiful.  Thank you for the counter and the shelves and for creating the blank sign for Annie to paint.  I am very lucky to have you in my life.

...to all the yogis and yoginis who practice with me.  This space was created for you and I've been delighted with all the good energy you brought to it during the first week.  Thank you for supporting the change and for being just generally really awesome.

And Now it's a Yoga Studio

It's done, and just in time.  The new True North Yoga studio is ready to open for classes tomorrow morning.

This morning I unrolled my mat and practiced in the space for the first time.  Resting in sponge between Salambhasana and Dhanurasana I reached out my arms and gave the beautiful wood floor a big hug.  It feels like a yoga studio now.

Yesterday we moved in all the good stuff.

My son discovered that a pile of yoga bolsters are lots of fun.

Have fun storming the castle!

And, at last, we're ready.  Looking back...

And looking forward...

The Peace Wall...

And, thanks to my husband, Rob, and his tool skills, the reception area with the awesome counter he made for me.

How could I not play on that counter?

Monday morning at 8:00am, the doors open.  If you're nearby, come in and say "hi!"

Finding the Zen in Sanding Floors

With seven days left until the new True North Yoga studio opens for classes, the excitement is really starting to build.  I'm already enjoying being on Main Street.  Whenever we are there working friends who walk by stop in and say "hi."

The last big job to get the space ready is almost complete.  We cleaned up the paint cans, brushes and rollers and turned our attention to the floor.  When I looked at the space, I fell in love with the floor.  It's not perfect.  The building is 70 years old and has been renovated a number of times.  There are now three sections of flooring, each a different wood, and the floor is a bit wavy in spots.  After practicing yoga on a cold tile basement floor for the past two years, however, the feel of the warm wood appealed to me, imperfections and all.

The floor had seen lots of wear and tear over the past seven decades, so I decided the best thing to do was refinish it.  I am very blessed because my dad is a master of remodeling and was happy to help me with the floor.  Well, maybe not happy, but it was an opportunity to play with a really big power tool, so he wasn't unhappy.

Sanding the floor took a long time.  My dad, my husband and I worked for nine hours on Saturday to complete the rough sanding.  For the most part, I worked the tiny sanding tool around the edges, but I did get a turn with the big drum sander.  Once I got the feel for it, and stopped gouging the floor, I discovered that sanding a floor can be very meditative.

(Please don't try to this with other power tools, especially those with sharp edges, like chain saws and wood chippers.)

It is important to sand with the grain of the wood, so there is lots of walking slowly forward and backward, keeping the sander going in one straight line.  Certain spots needed a number of passes, so I walked the same line over and over.  The sander is very loud, and after awhile forming any kind of thought became impossible.  I just walked very slowly and focused on guiding the sander along the edges of the floor boards.

I was feeling very zen when my father got bored and took the big power tool back, and I was stuck with the very un-zen high-pitched whine of the tiny sander.

900 square feet didn't seem that big until we were sanding, and sanding, and sanding for hours.  After taking off layers of dirt, old finish and all the rough parts of the wood, we were left with quite a bit of saw dust.

This is what 900 square feet of sawdust looks like.  (Yes, the entire can is full of nothing but sawdust.)

Sunday morning we went over the floor again with a finer grit sandpaper to make it smooth.  We made it as smooth as we could for the barefoot yogis and yoginis.

It took nearly an hour after the sanding was finished to clean up all of the dust.  Finally my dad declared the floor ready for stain.

While the first corner of stain went on, I held my breath.  (I did the same thing when we started putting paint on the walls.)  I agonized over the color choice and hoped that the stain was dark enough to hide some of the imperfections but not so dark that it would hide the wood grain.  I hoped it wasn't too red, or too yellow.  I think I got it right.

Staining the floor took most of the afternoon, but shortly after 5:00pm my dad, kneeling in the doorway, put the last bit of stain on.  Then we locked the door and left it to dry until tomorrow, when the floor will get a coat of clear polyurethane.

Once the polyurethane is dry, I get to play.  Curtains and pictures, coat hooks and plants - these are a few of my favorite things.

Meanwhile, my dear friend Annie, who painted with me nearly every day, got the opportunity to show her incredible etchings as April's featured artist in Willows Bistro in Warrensburg, New York.  I am thrilled that she is getting the opportunity to showcase her art and I'm really looking forward to going to the opening reception.  Annie was there today to hang her art, and she brought back Chinese food, which is a huge treat for us because Schroon Lake doesn't have a Chinese restaurant.  Then she invited my family for dinner.

I have been truly blessed.

Water, water everywhere...

Image via Wikipediaand lots of it is unsafe to drink.

October 15th is change.org's Blog Action Day. On this day bloggers around the world are asked to post about the same issue. This year it's water.

Living by the side of a beautiful lake in the Adirondack mountains, where melting snow keeps the rivers running, you might think that clean water isn't an issue I'd be concerned about. You'd be wrong.

Adirondack Park, the 6 million acre area of public and private land in New York State which was meant to be preserved wilderness, is suffering some of the worst damage in America from acid rain. Almost 25% of our lakes are "dead," no longer able to support the aquatic plants and animals that once thrived. Sadly, most of the acid pollution comes from outside of New York State, carried on air currents from Midwestern power plants, so New Yorkers are forced to rely on the inadequate Federal Clean Air Act for relief. Other pollution comes from the north, outside of the United States and even Federal jurisdiction. Our lakes are sitting ducks, so to speak.

Mercury is accumulating in our lakes as well, turning the remaining fish into toxic food. Run-off from chemical fertilizers and road salt also affects the lakes, creating smaller versions of the Gulf algae blooms. Invasive plants and animals, carried from lake to lake on unwashed boats, kayaks, wetsuits (yes, triathletes, your wetsuits), etc. choke out the natives and further upset already precariously balanced eco-systems.

There was a time when we could drink the lake water, fish were plentiful and no one got "swimmers' itch." That time has passed. Schroon Lake still tests okay, but we may be fighting an uphill battle.

Schroon Lake has a very active lake association fighting the battle. Members volunteer their time to collect water samples, look for patches of invasives like Eurasian Milfoil and inspect boats at launch ramps. I'd like to say we were winning, but really we are just not losing, yet.

Clean water is a huge problem worldwide, and I'm sure many blog posts will cover the unsanitary conditions in developing countries. There are many charities you can support to help. But after you send your donation, take a moment to think about the seemingly plentiful water that flows out of your faucets and what would happen if it was suddenly gone.

We can't live without water. If you've got clean water, protect it. Fight for cleaner power, organic farming and ecosystem restoration, before none of our water is safe to drink.