Katie Krueger's Snippets of Gratitude

There is comfort in visiting the same places over the course of life.  Yes, there is excitement in always finding new places through travel and exploration, but by going to the same spots at different stages in life, its much easier to mark the growth of myself.  Devil’s Lake has become one of those places: I’ve day hiked with friends, camped several times, I did my first triathlon there, I took the day off of work and went hiking solo to celebrate the day I got accepted to the Wisconsin School of Business’s MBA program, and just this past weekend, Diene and I welcomed fall by doing some hiking.

Having favorite place is something I am very grateful for.

East Bluff, Devil's Lake, April 2009

East Bluff, Devil's Lake, Oct. 2011

East Bluff, Devil's Lake, April 2009

Devil's Lake Oct 2011

I love tape.  Scotch, masking, duct, shipping, double-sided: it doesn’t matter.  I love it all.  You can do so much with tape.  Here’s a few projects I’ve done in recent memory:

• Waterproofed my Bike the Barns route map (clear shipping)
• Laminated my new journal cover collage (clear shipping, scotch)
• Kept a dress neckline from getting X-rated (fashion double-sided)
• Fixed a rattling bathroom fan (duct)
• De-linted black pants (any and all)
• Collaged homemade greeting cards (scotch)
• Resurrected abused mailing boxes from near death by reinforcing them and covering up water stains (priority mail tape from post office)
• Labeled the jars of garden-fresh tomatoes I’m freezing for the winter (scotch)
• Wrote myself countless reminders and lists (post-its)
• Made my road bike handle pads stay in place (electrical)

I could go on and on, but suffice it to say today I am grateful for tape.  Anyone out there got creative uses for it?

Create the Good Life. There is no map. Trust Nature. Laminate everything with tape.

It presented a nice distraction from my imminent fate of graduation, a job search, and the daunting task of redefining myself professionally.  Thus, my trip to Brazil became a symbol of hope and I was very excited  by the prospect of what would come from my work with the Global Business Project.

The problem was, the project in Brazil turned out nothing like I expected.  Tons of hard work meant I sometimes forgot I was in Brazil, because hotel meeting rooms look pretty much the same worldwide.   Our team, made of 5 strong personalities representing 4 countries (USA, India, Brazil, Dominican Republic), forced us all to deal with conflict in a constructive way, but provoked way more daily confrontation than this friendly midwesterner is used to.  I spent a lot of time fantasizing about going rogue: just packing up my suitcase, and getting lost in the expanse of Brazil without explanation.  I wanted to escape, despite already being on my escape trip.

What Brazil taught me is that escape is an illusion.  We can put physical distance between us and the decisions we are postponing, the fears we are not facing, the relationships we are letting fade.

“Buddhist teacher Pema Chodron writes, ‘Never underestimate the inclination to bolt.”

Distance rarely solves problems.  Gives a new perspective, sure.  But what matters is how quickly we can return to deal with the challenges staring us in the face, not how quickly we can get away from them.

I am grateful for my trip to Brazil, one of the most productive of my international trips in terms of self-discovery.

Fall is definitely here.  The effigy mounds that I pass on my morning walks are tall with prairie grass. I breathe in the golden rod greenness; crisp air fills my lungs.  Morning walks. A new habit I am grateful for.

I’m getting back in shape, after drinking my way through the last semester of my MBA and eating my way through Brazil.   Running and biking are my methods of choice.  The worst part of getting back in shape is that those first few times out … either on the bike or putting feet on the pavement… hurt.  Seriously.  Sore back, sore legs, breathing cramps, muscle cramps, even my hangnails hurt more while running.  It gets easier; it always does.  But in the beginning, it’s so damn painful.

One nice distraction from the pain I’ve been enjoying this week is birdwatching.  This past year I read To See Every Bird in the World, which was a fascinating tale of extreme birdwatching.  (Next thing you know, A&E will do a reality show on these folks, know as listers.)  Anyway, it just fueled my love for birds and gave me some better techniques for identifying them in the wild.

This week, I’ve been lucky to see sandhill cranes and two crane juveniles:

Photo by Flickr user szatmar666

A Yellow-Bellied Sapsucker Woodpecker:

I had a red-wing blackbird dive-bomb my head, and hover about a foot above it, the entire way across a bridge behind Olbrich Park.  Persistent little birds.

Yesterday, in Tenney Park, I saw a remarkable bird perched on a branch above the water.  It was large with long black legs, the plumage coloring similar to a loon, and what I think was a white ring of feathers around its neck.  I saw it, stopped, and it flew away before I could make it out.   Any guesses?

Its a reason to go back out there, run and bike through the pain.  And for every remarkable bird that I see – that gives me an excuse to stop, look, and catch my breath, I am always grateful.

I’ve flown a lot this Winter: its still not enough for me to get over my fear of turbulence. One bump strong enough to splash the ginger ale from my plastic cup onto the tray table in front of me and my mind goes racing: we are going down, making an emergency landing on water, and yet, ironically, it will be the fire from the engine explosion that they list as the cause of death. Its a horrible, horrible place to go…down that fear tunnel.

I’m trying not to do the same thing these days, with the turbulence of graduation (and the subsequent life decisions) upon me. I’m trying not to stare down the future through fear, but rather through faith. Faith that I can do whatever I put my mind too. Faith that opportunities exist around every bend. Faith in my life’s mission: to grow people’s dreams.

So here I am, on the verge of turbulence and holding on tight. Of course, there’s a soundtrack, and I’m grateful for that.