I dwell in the paradox, in the in-between, around the edges. At parties I’m the participant-observer in the corner, saying little but intensely involved in everything going on around me.
I’m a mid-life PhD, a middle-aged widow, a middle-of-the-pack runner. I fall in love with concepts and I start lots of things. Many of my interests are fleeting (only until I fall in love with the next concept), while others have endured. Sometimes it’s the biggest things that I do the best. I have earned three graduate degrees. I’ve given several speeches. I’ve completed
three four five six seven eight half marathons and I’m just beginning to sense what I’m capable of as a runner, albeit only a slow happy runner.
I love being in places in or on the edge of wilderness. I love the sight of a wide-open horizon, the meeting of earth or water and sky. I love trees, and I can’t bear to watch a tree being cut down. I love eating and drinking low on the food chain and as fresh and local as possible, because I love living beings — everything from banana slugs and turtles to ravens, my cats, whales, and the purebred Jersey cows who produce the raw milk that I drink.
I love learning for learning’s sake and writing in many styles (I’ve been published in a literary magazine, a car magazine, and a philosophical anthology). I’ve enjoyed owning and driving Porsches and the many wonderful people whom I’ve met through my involvement with these cars over the years. I love listening to music, expanding my eclectic collection of music, and occasionally pretending that I can play music. I have a closet full of seldom-used but much-loved musical instruments ranging from a bowed psaltry to a didgeridoo (I think the didgeridoo is destined to go away in the next yard sale). I’ve seen my favorite musical group, the Moody Blues, in concert at least 40 times — in three states, two continents, and three countries.
I used to be bi-platial (that’s a scholarly way of saying I was a snowbird), but the condo in Palm Springs was my late husband Kurt’s dream. I’ve now sold it and I’ve firmly planted both feet and my whole heart in the Pacific Northwest.
For 12 years I described myself as local/global (I worked from home for a large global corporation). I now call myself “post-corporate” as I begin to experience life without regular paychecks. I live between the silence of the mountains and the crashing of the sea (to borrow a lyric from the Moody Blues), on the beautiful Olympic Peninsula in Washington state.
I’m grateful for almost 25 years of marriage to my best friend, until his death in June 2011. And now, I’m busily creating a new life for myself. The possibilities are endless — and I’m working on turning possibilities into distinct probabilities… one step at a time.