Climbing Rocks.

My fingers are very angry with me tonight. I've subjected them to unusual punishment because something has recently come over me that I can't quite describe. I've discovered rock climbing. I dabbled a little bit in college and then dropped it altogether for about four years. I went to a local climbing gym in October and the next thing I knew, I was buying rock shoes and a membership to Sport Climbing Center.

Climbing gets in your blood and once it's there, you're toast. Every day brings a new challenge, and it's hard. Mental discipline, the fear factor, and strengthening my stick arms have all been part of the package. And in the car on the way to climb, I select the right music and then start mentally going through the problem I'm currently working on. It's weird. And sometimes I don't sleep well because I'm climbing in my head. It's embarrassing... sort of.

The best part of all is that it's a sport surrounded by comrades. You have no enemies, only friends. I came in knowing nothing and looking like a fool. Now I know a lot more and have a dozen personal coaches who, once upon a time, started exactly where I started. And what's not to love about a place that pushes you forward while supporting and encouraging the whole way? Worth its weight in gold.

Gym chalk, sore fingers and toes, and the downtown Mountain Chalet have all become familiar over the last two months. And I happen to live in The Wild Colorado, home to some of the best climbing in the country. It's going to be a fun year.

Insane, Chris Sharma. Insane.

Almost more remarkable than the climbing is the life application, particularly to my Christianity. The most obvious would be the rock itself. Need I say more? All throughout Scripture, God is compared to a rock, a refuge, a fortress. He is solid, sure, and steady, able to support all my weight. When I approach the rock correctly and move the way I've been taught, I can finish the climb. Also, you climb the level at which you are able to climb. Beginning climbers generally can't complete or even start advanced climbs. But they can watch advanced climbers and learn by observation and by working on the climbs that are, to them, challenging but manageable. In the same way, we will never be asked to face something in life for which we are not capable of handling. And of course, there's the comradery. No one can do this alone. On a difficult climb, you need a spotter. On a first climb, you often need someone who's climbed it before to tell you how to do it and watch you as you go. It's the best way to improve.

And the last application to life: you can't always explain why. Someone asked me if I get bored climbing. I didn't know how to answer. Someone asked me what I like about climbing. I fumbled my way through an explanation. You can't force someone to get it, or to like it, but you know with everything in you that it's something you can't get enough of.

I confess, climbing has cut into my writing time. Seriously. I love both, so we're just going to have to work something out here.

An Island Debrief

From my front door in Colorado Springs, travel 3,281 miles SouthWest and you'll land on Maui, a strange and wonderful land of tropical birds, fish, and all things green. Last Christmas my parents announced that this year's Christmas gift was a family trip to Maui, so I packed my little duffel bag and climbed aboard the tiny regional jet for the first leg to Los Angeles International Airport. I've never seen people so happy to be on a crowded jumbo jet as they boarded our full flight from L.A. to Kahului. I'd like to thank Zac Efron for our mid-flight entertainment. And the friendly travelers who gave a loud cheer when we hit the runway.

The moment you step off the plane, you can feel the balmy air and see your hair start to curl. Instead of walking, people meander (including the locals). We drove half an hour to our hotel and hit the beach. This is my third trip to Maui, and the clear, warm water astounds me every time. It is, in a word, perfect.

Remember those goals I mentioned? I did my best to meet them all, except the Hawaiian history part. Once I got there, I lost all motivation and instead found myself studying present-day Hawaii via people-watching.

My older brother, Matthew, is a snorkeling fiend and because he was so enthralled I decided to see what all the fuss was about. Last time I snorkeled, I freaked. All I could focus on was breathing through my mouth. I generally prefer my nose. And then there are fish -- schools of them -- that could attack at any moment. This time, I pushed through the awkwardness and now I could do the mouth breathe in my sleep...and I probably do. And as for the fish, they're rather friendly. One little striped guy followed me around like he was my tour guide and I saw creatures that looked more like baseball bats than animals. The reef was lime green, soft pink, and all sorts of shades in between, and the light reflecting through the water fancies everything up. With all the colors, creatures, shapes and light, it feels other-worldly and for a brief moment I lived in it.

Hawaiian food is fresh and tasty. Banana-Mac Nut French Toast, Macadamia-Encrusted Mahi Mahi, and Fish Tacos were some favorites. The food situation is as you would imagine, relaxed. Servers are in no hurry to get you out. On the contrary, many became friends. At the Kihei Caffe, owner Bunny Allison sat down at the patio tables with some of her guests and visited with us for most of our meal. She told us a couple jokes, about some miracles in her family, how she loves this cafe, and prayed for my brother and sister-in-law's new marriage. Braddah Hutts is on the other side of the island in Hana, and it's planted in the owner's front yard under a white tent. Three long folding tables, a few coolers, a grill and a homemade sign put them in business. And they're hoppin'.

The Road to Hana in an electric blue Mustang convertible was perhaps the most memorable of all. Hairpin turns, waterfalls, tunnels of trees, and cliffs plunging into the sea were all part of the 48 mile drive. We stopped often because you can hardly help yourself. It's so beautiful. Don't tell anyone that I told you, but when you go, look for Nahiku Road. It's a small, secret turn off that will take you down to the ocean, right to the place where the waters crash together from all directions. Black lava rock shoots out of the crystal, foaming water, in just the right place so the waves hit the rock and spray high in the air. That was the only place I really never wanted to leave.

It was all so wonderfully relaxing, and now it's time to come back and join everyday life again. Hello, mountains.

A joyful reunion {one of those "in the moment" photos I was hoping for}

Kihei Caffe

Bunny Allison, owner of Kihei Caffe

Makena Bay

View from the front door of our room

View from the balcony of our room

beach time

Scrumptious Banana-Macadamia nut French Toast

Pure beauty

Braddah Hutts menu: whiteboard and paper plates

Tunnel of trees

Clear water

Beach hats.

Away to Paradise We Go

Try as I might, I can think of nothing else to write about than Maui. That's right -- that island paradise with perfect blue water and soft, sandy beaches. It's on my mind because I've just finished packing my bags and will be on a plane to Maui first thing tomorrow morning. My family is celebrating Christmas early and hoping to be there in between the holiday crowds.

The timing is perfect. Do you ever put thoughts "on hold" if you know you're going away soon and can process everything then? That's what I've done, and I have a large backlog of thoughts to sort through, and some killer books to read. Hopefully this will mean some good writing for me.

Some goals for the trip:

- Take good photos in the moment. Why good? Because mine generally aren't, and I'd like to get better. Why in the moment? Because those are often the best kind, and they're much more engaging to look at later than single file smiles.

- Take good video footage. Same reasons as above.

- Make an island friend or two. I've been to Maui twice before and have not made a local friend yet. That's a problem. One of the best parts of traveling is meeting locals and hearing their stories. And they usually tell you some insider secrets that guidebooks don't share.

- Run on the beach. A lot.

- Learn a little bit more about Hawaii's history.

- Get over my fear of snorkeling. Perhaps the fear is more the "nothing in-between" me and the strange sea creatures. It gives me the heebie-jeebies.

- Kayak in the sea.

- Write all these adventures down!

Come back in a week or so and I'll be posting about the trip. If I'm lucky, I'll get to blog some while I'm there, but I make no guarantees. Until then, take good care of the mainland!

Think about it.

A design podcast I recently discovered has been keeping my mind occupied at work. The episode I listened to yesterday was an interview with Milton Glaser, the designer of the famous NY graphic. The discussion was about ethics, a topic I wasn't expecting for a design show. Glaser's passion for ethical design challenged many of the ideas I've adopted just because they're popular, not because I've actually thought through them and formed a conviction.

One of his life convictions is to avoid promoting or participating in things that harm a human being in any way. I think most of us would agree that this is good and right. And then he got practical. As a designer, he must decide what sorts of jobs he's willing to accept and which he's not. Can he in good conscience design a campaign to market a food product to children that is high in sugar and low in nutrients? Can he design for a dieting method he knows won't work? What about companies that in some way use child labor? Can he design ads for cigarettes, knowing the product does only harm to its consumers?

He asked a group of design students if they would work with a company that used child labor, and of course they immediately said no. He then asked if they would design a campaign for cigarettes, and many of them said they would. He presented the question another way: what if that child has no other way to make money, so although he makes a brutally unfair wage, is it better for him that he have no work, or work at little income? And then there's this unfriendly fact: according to the National Institute of Drug Abuse, tobacco is the leading preventable cause of disease, disability and death in the United States. It takes an estimated 400,000 American lives every year. That's tangible evidence. Why would we more readily support something that directly caused someone's death?

Milton Glaser believes it's the popularity factor. His point was that we like to appear to have compassion. We like to be trendy and appear to care about today's moral, ethical issues. But when you find someone who would refuse to design something for a company who uses child labor but would willingly design graphics to sell a product that would directly cause someone's death, a thinking person must realize that these don't match up. So then, how many of our so-called convictions are for appearance's sake? Do they really hold up when we stand back and look at them with a thoughtful, objective eye?

Social justice is a huge trend for young people, and I think this is an important thing to ask ourselves. Why do we want to be involved in social justice? Do we truly care about people? If I support a child who lives in Swaziland but don't think to give food to my neighbor who can't pay his bills this month, do I really care about people? Or do I just like having Swazi girl's picture on my refrigerator and patting myself on the back when I see it?

This has challenged me to look for pretense in my convictions and to replace it with substance. To be aware of what's really happening and not take pop culture's word for it. Glaser has written 12 Steps on the Road to Hell for Graphic Designers, and they're presented well in this video. Most of us aren't graphic designers, but all of us are faced with decisions that could help or harm someone else, so what are we all about, really? Think about it.

I'm in Love

Something has come over me and I can't stop it. Colorado -- everything about it -- is suddenly irresistible. It's a place where the adventurous soul can find a home. I suppose life itself could be exhilarating anywhere if you're the "bloom where you're planted" type, but simply seeing, smelling, tasting, hearing, and touching Colorado is an experience unlike anywhere else I've been.

Two years ago, fresh out of Los Angeles, I considered myself a city girl and felt so out of place among the primitive mountain folk. I owned a lightweight J. Crew jacket, a few breezy tees and some heels. The most "Colorado" thing I owned was my pair of running shoes. Of course I still enjoy cultural things, of which Colorado happens to have plenty, but now, nine times out of ten, I'd rather climb rocks than go to a fancy dinner. Snow season is here and I'm excited beyond my wits to learn how to ski and/or snowboard. I'm even wearing my snow hat (with a puff on top) as I type this.

Colorado has been described to me as a state full of independent, individualist people who can never relax and just "be." First, please define 'relax', and second, there's something missing in that statement. We are a state full of independent, individualist people who like to do almost everything with other independent, individualist people. The active mountain lifestyle builds a community around the activities themselves, and that's what unites us. In L.A., you had to have the friends before you could do the stuff. Here, you do the stuff to find the friends, which then leads to doing more stuff...together. Voila.

And more than that, this is the place I am most often reminded of the beauty and intelligence of my Creator. Every single day when I open my front door and step outside, I'm astonished by what I see. It's unfathomable that the One who created such a magnificent place knows my name, let alone puts air in my lungs and gave His life so that I could live.

"The mountains melt like wax before the Lord, before the Lord of all the earth. The heavens proclaim his righteousness, and all the peoples see His glory." psalm 97

Bad Wheel

To write often and to write well, one must be disciplined. Hence, the last post was over ten days ago. I've not been a disciplined writer lately. I've been a rockclimber instead. There are plenty of stories I could write about from the last two weeks, but whether or not I should -- for all the world to see -- is the question. 

The truth is, the only writing worth reading is honest writing, and I haven't wanted to be raw and honest for the last little while. It's hard, dadgummit. That's a writer's job: to think about life, describe it in honest detail and try to make some sense of it all. 

There are times that life seems more like an assembly line of perfectly synced parts and demands little reflection. Other times, one or two parts jump off their track or tucker out and require some attention, and sometimes the whole machine smokes, screeches, and shuts down for repair. Time to reboot. 

You know the grocery cart with one bad wheel? That's life right now. But you know, it's times like these that really make you stop and ask yourself important questions. What am I doing?  Why? I'm learning that quality relationships take a lot of maintenance. I'm learning that every interaction I have with someone sets the tone for our friendship. Every single interaction -- every word, every look, every action. I've felt a heavy weight of responsibility over this, because I'm aware of times I took this responsibility far too lightly and it will take hard work to recover. 

I also don't recall ever being more aware of the reality that the only reason we love anything at all is because God first loved. The capacity to love comes from Him. That's why relationships matter. Were it not for God and the love, forgiveness, grace and mercy we have so abundantly in Him, I don't know where the motivation to work through difficulty would come from. He is a refuge in time of weakness. His joy is our strength. 

He is my only hope, my anchor, and when we're weary, that's cause for rejoicing.

In other news, I've decided to allow comments again. I removed all comments because I read somewhere that you should hide comments until you have several hundred readers a day (because no one wants to read a blog that no one else thinks is worth commenting on). Oh my. My hair will be gray by then. Life is too short for that! It's no fun to write when friends can't comment. I don't write for the hundreds, I write for you and me. So feel free to comment, and feel free not to. But at least you have the choice. 

First Local Pick: Word on the Street

Alright, if I'm tired of writing "First Local Pick," you're certainly tired of reading it. Especially if you're not a local. This is my last post for the locals, but it's the post that keeps on giving. It's about a website (and no, that's not cheating). Colorado Springs folk: if you haven't perused peakradar.com, you must. It's the best source for everything cultural in town. Who knew Colorado Springs had a First Friday Art Walk? Peak Radar did. It will tell you when the Harlem Globetrotters will be in town, where to see the best local musicians, and has a good collection of free events.

If you're new to the "exploring your hometown" idea, peakradar is a great place to start. To bargain hunt your way around town, sign up for daily discounts at sites like livingsocial, groupon, and Gazette Deal of the Day.

Wherever you are, start exploring. If you think your town is boring and mediocre, I challenge you to make it different. We all contribute to the culture we live in, so find something to enjoy and enjoy it. If you're convinced there's nothing to enjoy, then plant a flower outside your front door and call it a day. The End.