THANKFUL FRIDAY

Last year, I had a goal to put together a car camping kit for solo camp trips. I completed that goal and then never went on any camp trips, solo or other wise. But I have gear for two all organized into bins, ready for adventuring. Michael and I have not been tent camping together since 2016. That’s when we slept on a leaky air mattress in the almost freezing summer conditions of northern Wisconsin. That air mattress didn’t even make it home. It went right on into the campground dumpster when we packed up to leave. This was the camping trip that led to the purchase of the camper. The two of us figured that maybe our bodies were no longer the kind of bodies that could sleep on the ground.

So we upgraded to a tent on wheels and that served us pretty well for a number of years. Then the act of packing and unpacking the pop-up, along with the constant stress and worry over possibly damaging the camper, finally took its toll on us. We sold the camper a couple of years ago and have not been camping since. We’ve stayed in cabins in remote places, but actual camping with campfires and camp stove cooking has been a no go. Frankly, I miss it. I miss hanging out in my hammock chair with a book and the wilderness. I miss the big hike that always takes places while camping. I miss the rustic camp dinners that get made that always seem to taste like the best meal you’ve ever eaten even though it is only a hotdog. This is the longest stretch of time in my entire life where I have not spent at least one night in a campground.

We’re taking the Cabbage to their summer camp tomorrow. This year’s camp is basically college. They will be staying for three weeks at Truman State, taking a college class and living the dorm life. I think they are equally excited and nervous. Camp is usually a week long thing for them, so this will be the longest time spent away from parents. Since I was that kid who spent 80% of their summers at some sort of sleep-away camp, I’m excited for the Cabbage. Those independent “study” summers helped shape me into the grownup I am today. I think the Cabbage is going to love this time of freedom and independence. And since we’re driving them all the way over to Kirksville, Michael and I decided to find a nearby campground for a couple of nights of camping.

Old school.

In a tent.

With a better air mattress.

At the beginning of this week, the very thought of lugging my camp gear out of the basement and planing and prepping meals felt exhausting. Wednesday evening, I pulled my camp kitchen box and a bag of random camp needs out of the basement. I opened up the kitchen box to check my inventory and was pleasantly surprised by how well I had organized myself for camping. One tote contained all of my kitchen needs, including my two burner stove. Then I remembered how I used to have to pack the pop-up trailer just for the kitchen. I took a three-tiered wheeling tool chest and converted it into a camp kitchen that I called Fat Max. Fat Max fit perfectly into the storage rack on the front of the camper, but was heavy lifting. We would load Fat Max, the ice chest, our camp chairs and another bin of camp supplies all into that front rack. Then it would all have be unloaded to set up the camper. Very little could be packed inside the camper because folding it up took up any floor space and made the refrigerator inaccessible. Now, I have one bin, two bags (one for bedding, one for camp supplies), one tent, one air mattress and one ice chest, which is how I camped before the camper. I have simplified our camping and in doing so, I have gotten very excited about our camp trip this weekend.

For the life of me, I cannot understand how I let the simplicity of camping become so complicated. I created more work for myself and this soured the experience. But, I think, in general, this is something we all do to ourselves. We overcomplicate all aspects of our lives. Some of this is because many of us were taught that life is a struggle, that it even has to be a struggle. If you’re not struggling, you’re not working hard enough for success. We should be struggling to make ends meet. Our jobs should be a daily struggle. It’s called work because it is supposed to be work. The concept of life being a struggle leaks into every aspect of living and we need permission for ease and simplicity. This idea has fueled businesses selling concepts of health and wellness. Feel the burn, but unplug for self care. Its hard to separate the things that are going to be work from the things that don’t have to be work.

I remember a camping trip once with Chris, Traci and James where Traci had purchased a new tent. The tent was supposed to be really easy to set up. All that was required was to push up from the center of the tent and the poles would lock into place. Easy peasy. Except it wasn’t. Traci was too short to press up far enough for the poles to lock. Even then, it turned out that it required quite a bit of force to lock the poles into place. Finally, after a whole lot of swearing and sweating, they finally got that tent up with the poles locked into place. At the end of that trip, Traci pulled down that tent and threw it into the dumpster. She thought she had bought a tent that would make camping easier. It did not and so she got rid of it and moved onto something else. While it is a memory I will never forget (that whole weekend was filled them), it was also a lesson I should have been paying attention too. Those activities that we like doing should not be something that requires so much work.

Camping shouldn’t be work.

I’m grateful to be able to test out that theory this weekend.

LETTERS

Before we parted ways for different colleges, a friend and I agreed to stay in touch by writing each other letters. We had known each other since well before pre-school, our lives entwined through church and then school. A friendship born from just living in a small rural community. We joked that we had neighboring cribs in bed-babies class. This is how our Southern Baptist Church separated children out by age. It was a place to leave us while parents attended or led Sunday school classes. We were unavoidably tossed together and it was either be mortal enemies or just be friends. While I was chomping at the bit to escape for college, I was also a little nervous about leaving people behind and he was like a security blanket. So we agreed to write each other as often as possible.

The letters lasted for maybe two or three months, long enough for each of us to settle into new lives. I caught a recent episode of This American Life and the theme for the episode was about writing letters. It started with Ira interviewing some expert on letter writing and brain function. The expert letter writing person talked about the importance of hand written letters, how they convey emotion to the reader but also how the act of letter writing benefits the brain. This is what reminded me about those short few months my friend and I wrote to each other. Every letter I received from him was hand typed while I sent messy scrawling nonsense. Of course our letter writing didn’t last, nor did the friendship. I mean, we’re acquaintances. We both just sorted of faded off into separate worlds. I think he’s doing well, living the white man suburban dream with a wife and two kids, a job in finance. We haven’t seen or spoken in probably twenty years. Our worlds do not align.

That episode on letter writing sparked an urge to maybe write some letters, but then I couldn’t imagine what to tell people. The weather seems to always be a topic for letters. The weather here has been a week of pleasant followed with a week of being boiled and steamed alive. It just swings back and forth like that. In my visions, I picture myself writing in neat loopy letters, not my usual scratch. I think of telling someone in a letter about my tiny garden in the back that has grown wild and messy. There’s swallow tail caterpillars on the fennel and I’ve left them there unharmed in hopes of seeing them transform into butterflies. I think of writing to someone that I feel slightly hopeful for the future, seeing those letters neatly looping across a piece of paper, but the thing that keeps me from writing is the idea that I do not have enough words to fill a page.

Yesterday, I pulled the mail from the mailbox and sifted through the junk and the bills to find a postcard from Amani. It felt like she must have been reading my mind from two thousand miles away. I smiled back the picture of her smiling and flipped the card over to read the short message of love. Then it dawned on me that I did not have to fill pages with handwriting about sweltering temperatures and the next prediction of rain. A couple of sentences will suffice. So then I wasted an hour of time ordering a new set of postcards of some of my photos.

Maybe I’ll practice loopy cursive letters while I wait for the postcards to arrive.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Orange

18 Likes, 0 Comments - Cindy Maddera (@elephant_soap) on Instagram: "Orange"

Yesterday, as I was driving home from work, I found myself behind a Ford Fusion with a personalized tag that read ‘FOCUS’. And I had questions. First of all, did the driver think they had purchased a Ford Focus? Or maybe they had previously owned a Ford Focus and just moved the tag over to this one? Maybe the driver was an optometrist? Though, I feel like maybe an optometrist would drive something more expensive than a Fusion? Except, now that I really think about it, if they are an optometrist then they’re probably still paying back student loans. Optometry school is EXPENSIVE! Then I thought that maybe the driver was just saying “FOCUS”. Focus on the road ahead of you. Focus on the task you are engaged in. Pay attention. My brain immediately goes for the most complicated answer when it really may be just a simple reminder to pay attention.

I haven’t been doing a great job keeping up with a gratitude practice lately. I skipped an entry for last week entirely. I had written something. Actually I had written, deleted, re-written, deleted, re-written and decided to hit ‘delete’ instead of ‘publish’. The weather combined with the lack of sunlight was making me sound like a total crank pot. I did not sound grateful, but I was also working hard at writing something profound or meaningful. I was working too hard and I was reaching for something more complicated. I was reaching for something to be thankful for.

I should never have to reach.

When ever I find myself reaching for gratitude, I step back and take a breath. I take a moment to say this simple prayer.

I am thankful for the roof over my head. I am thankful for the nourishing food that is sustaining this body. I am thankful for the beautiful people I have in my life who support and love me.

I take a moment to focus.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Aphididae

1 Likes, 0 Comments - Cindy Maddera (@elephant_soap) on Instagram: "Aphididae"

I’m taking a break from explaining my album choices to talk or think about gratitude. Every week I sit down and write these entries and sometimes it feels like I am on autopilot. I am just going through the motions and churning out words in hopes that it reflects something about being grateful. The practice of gratitude becomes stale. Just like any practice. There are times when I step on my yoga mat because getting on the mat is part of the practice, but once I’m there, I am not always inspired to do anything. That’s why going to yoga classes and reading up on the latest Yoga Journal news is important. It helps me breathe new life into my practice when it feels like it’s gotten stagnant.

What classes do I attend or magazines do I flip through to breathe new life into a gratitude practice?

It is not in the daily news.

My nightly prayers as a child tended to be a long rolling list of all the people and things I was thankful for that day.

Dear God,

Thank you for my mom and dad and our dogs Bitsy and Bulldozer. Thank you for Janel. Thank you for not letting the goldfish die today. Thank you for my teacher, Mrs… and thank you for my best friend Jamie. Thank you for the chocolate chip cookies.

Amen

I remember the lessons taught in Sunday school about asking God for things, so I made a very strong conscious effort to not ask God for anything. Now that I think about it, not asking God for anything came pretty easy. I am and have always been stubborn and unwilling to ask for help. I do not say nightly prayers anymore for reasons I have discussed before, but sometimes reflecting on the simple is a good way to breathe new life into a stale practice. As opposed to the the deep meaning kind of gratitude that I often try to post about here.

This week, a very easy simple thing that I can be grateful for is the sunshine. We have had a whole week of bright blue skies and warmer temperatures. Every day has been a scooter day. Every morning, I have taken a short walk outside before going in for my cup of coffee. I am thankful for this weather that is thawing my soul and bringing joy to my heart. I am thankful for my Mom, my brother and sister-in-law, and my family. I am thankful for Michael and my group of chosen family. I am thankful for Josephine and I am even thankful for that darn cat, Albus. I am thankful for the bounty of eggs from the chickens and the calming presence they bring to our backyard.

I am thankful for fresh strawberries with whipped cream.