once you subscribe to the notion that you are the author of your book, then it may become a novel (excuse the pun, it is in honor of my heritage) idea to drop your character off someplace and see what comes of it.

the setting for my character has only a single criteria: the likelihood of survival is high…not guaranteed, but high.

a journalist in a war zone would miss the mark on the only requirement. a trip with my dad to an amusement park, with 4 kids 3-6 years old, on a hot summer day, with a 2-hour road trip each direction, and a car sick homie…is an option for a setting.

i turned 40 yesterday. i steered myself right into the turn. i learned a healthy way to tackle turns in driver’s ed. class in high school: ease up a bit as you enter, feel the turn, connect with it, and accelerate out. Roger That. Thank you, Mr. Sain, for that valuable life lesson.

a decade ago, i was here in Dubois, living on the top floor of an old house. i loved it completely! i learned to install a shower and create a kitchen out of a hallway.

it was Birch-dog’s first summer. he was my first legitimate fearless commitment to love.

it was my first summer as Director at Eagle View Ranch and it was similar to the Canadian Rockies. except, 10 years ago, i had neither the wisdom nor the practice in seeing (or adding) JOY to the daily grind.

there is no way to happiness. happiness is the way.

Deep Woods began to rock my world that summer. he was patient. he was kind. he was honest. we began our partnership.

for my 30th birthday, he bought me a rifle.

what?! gulp!?

a Mosin Nagant.

the same Russian sniper rifle, with the same open sites, i used to shoot my first deer. i was speechless. i never wanted a rifle…or a husband…or children…

Now, i am 40, and i have fearlessly  commited my love to a wee little family. i am a wifey and i am a mommo.

we dropped our characters off in paradise in May, 2014. and it has come with a bazillion positive side effects.

i MUST be strong enough, at all times, to walk/carry/ski/slog/transport my 2 peeps and myself for miles and miles in any and all conditions to get out of here in an emergency. i must be that strong. it is the requisite for allowing the cast to be living here.

i need to keep that as a main thing. the bike ride was just a celebration of that.

i chop the wood. and stack it.

i choose the rocks. and haul them.

i feel the asanas. and practice them.

i buy the produce. and eat it.

i plan the classes. and teach them.

i pack out the elk. and package it.

i dream the life. and live it.

my 30’s seem to be marked by nourishing LOVE. to learning, for once and for all, that LOVE-is-all-there-is.

i want for nothing.

i project that this next decade is devoted to refinement. good. better. best…

to growing with grace

to graceful growth

to applying all the lessons-learned (to know and not do is to not know)

to a default state of optimal performance

to  fewer loads of moldy laundry left in the washer

to the moderate path.

changing the finish line was a huge practice in both letting go of attachment, and choosing to honor myself with the moderate path.

Simmer Down, ego!

Clam Up, shame!

Becktacular is on the scene, and she’s comin in hot, 40!





2 thoughts on “40

  1. Becky…I want to surprise my father with a hunt…how can I do this out there or near you…he really needs something good to happen for him!!!

    Any ideas???? Happy Burffday!!!! Jason


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