A Fish called NOSE

Thanks Nancie for the words of support. I wrote them in my notebook for nighttime reading and reflection.

We are traveling from Vienna (Wien) to Mureck, Austria by train on the 31st of May. All of our gear must go with us. That is the pits and, it can be dangerous having to manipulate around it. A good example is when we were coming home from the Danube River swim and waiting for the train to stop in Frankfurt. Standing at the exit door of the train, I tripped over a dry bag and started to fall. Grabbing hold of the automatic door handle inbetween cars for support, it opened and totally threw me off balance. I screamed, a sound from the dictionary of the Universal Language. The woman waiting by the opposite exit door turned to help me and we were both pulled down. We looked like an international version of Abbott and Costello. Kelsey laughed first and LOUDLY, but the woman and I laughed the longest! It was one of those great moments of laughter that are accompanied by sequels just as intense. As the train came into the station, we exchanged glances, laughed one more time and went in opposite directions. I suppose there can be positive memories created from hauling fifty pounds of gear.

Once in Mureck, we will be taken to our hotel for a rest before we meet with people curious to "Know who Mimi is." Hey, I am fifty(one)and wondering who I am. It is hard to tell when I am still wet from my prefifty cocoon. The next day, we begin the swim. The Austrians are presenting me with a fish named NOSE to carry with me to Croatia. Once there, I am to present NOSE to them. NOSE is not the real fish but symbolic of the real one. This fish is made from driftwood. It sounds slendiferous, but I wonder how big NOSE is. At first consideration I assumed NOSE was a small fish that will fit in my hand, but what if he isn't? What if he is really big and as I go down river he soaks up water and ends up weighing a ton? What if he starts as a float and ends up as a weight? Maybe I'll tie him to the kajak. OH, I just had a flashback of Dr. Suess's "Fish Out of Water." I start out with this little tiny fish and have this HUGE fish by the time I reach Croatia. OK, time to refocus.

International River Network gave me a book to read on the negative effects of dams. It is technical, but interesting. I've called IRN a few times for questions, but they always seem curt and patronizing. Maybe they are too busy to be friendly and openly share information, but I cannot help wondering if they are irritated by TVA and my Tennessee River swim. At the time of the Tennessee River swim, I was concerned about other environmental influences polluting our waterways and wanted to send a message of personal responsibility for water quality. It was not a swim to bash companies and corporations. Afterall, don't we the people make up those companies and corporations? My experiences with TVA personnel were all positive. They placed no restrictions on my voice or actions. The majority of the employees I spent time with were highly conscious of the river's environmental concerns and did considerably more than the average person towards perserving the river. It is important to understand that there are two sides to TVA, the environmental side and the power side, befitting titles. I worked with the environmental side. Perhaps it is a tale of two cities...the best and the worst. Whatever, the dams are in place, and they are not building more. Hopefully the two keep everything in balance.

As we leave for the Mur/Drau swim, it is ridiculous for me to believe the world can be perfect. I don't expect it. A quote from my first year on the Tennessee River read: "5% pushes for good and 5% pushes for bad. The world situation depends on who is pushing the hardest." Well, I believe the world is badly out of balance, and the only way I know to correct it is to push harder. If that doesn't work, I will push even harder. I do not give myself a choice.

"Random acts of kindness" is not a figurative phrase.

"God bless us, everyone!" mimi

Trusting My Species

It is Saturday night, and we have one more day to prepare for the Mur/Drau swim. One more day to physically, mentally and emotionally prepare. Dry bags are straggled around my room with odds and ends that don't yet fit into our limited space. We are in a continual state of brainstorming ways to reduce and reuse our supplies. Hopefully lessons learned on the Danube River will hold true for the Drau. I will keep you posted. Do I need the water filtering kit?

It seems that a bazillion activites are being planned to monopolize on our jaunt down the river. So many environmental groups and random groups of people are helping and orgnaizing activities. LARA Bar (Humm Foods) sent us 180 healthful bars to take with us. It is a relief to know we will have a quick vegan food to eat on the river. Quintana Roo finally received their shipment of wetsuits and gave them to me on my fiftieth birthday. ProMotion wetsuits out of California graciously sent me a wetsuit in case Quintano Roo's shipment was delayed. ProMotion Wetsuit's compassion for my need was honorable, and I am thankful. Triathlons participants must be on the rise because wetsuits are increasingly more difficult to pull of the shelf. Quintana Roo gave me the birthday present I needed for the extreme temperatures Kelsey and I have to contend with on the Drau.

So, here I am trying to program coordinates into our GPS...do I sound technologically savvey? Ha! My coordinates keep sending me to Africa, not cool. I haven't a clue where we are staying our first night in Lienz, or who is meeting me with instructions for the first day's swim. Go in Faith. We do not have a lifevest for emergencies or a means to get fuel for our campstove; neither items can be taken of the plane. I am leaving for a month and have a pair of pants, a pair of shorts, two shirts and pairs of underwear, two sports bras and four swimming suits for a month long trip. If not for the camping gear, we would have less than twenty pounds of luggage between us. Now there's a fact for Ripley's.

School is over and I want to say goodbye to my students. It was an incredible year,and I am really proud of all of you. Your determination and perseverance in the midst of a language weakness is admirable. Don't give up; I draw my strength from your ability to keep coming back to school when traditional teaching techniqes are not in your interest. Remeber, it is these frustrations and detriments that will make you successful later, just don't give up.

My eyes are weighing heavy and this blog has yet to get to the point I meant to cover. Ah, there is not denying my needs for the comfort of my bed. I wll do what I can to blog tomorrow. mimi

Depak-Marathon Monks-Go In Faith

Depak Chopra Almost Killed Me

I listened to CD’s by Depak almost every night. His words are thought provoking, challenge my opinions and sometimes move me out of my comfort zone. They also put me to sleep. Last Wednesday I woke up at midnight and could not return to sleep. The floor moved me farther from my husband’s snores and seemed like a good idea at the time. Grabbing my pillow, I lay down on the floor next to our bed and put in the ear plugs with Depak. After a few minutes I was uncomfortable and turned to my side. The CD cord wrapped around my neck, pulling the CD player off of the nightstand. The CD player and “Knowing God” hit me in the eye, painfully. ARRRGHing for a few minutes, I touched my eyelid. It was swollen and bleeding. Drats. I manipulated my way to the mirror and saw a bloody gaping wound on my eyelid. Oh, no! The emergency room? No, my first aid kit has sutures. No, I have surgical tape in there too. Quickly cutting it to size, I cleaned the blood off my lid, held the wound together and clumsily closed the wound. It worked. I went back to the floor and left Depak alone. The CD’s did not energize my spirit anyway. After putting them away, I pulled out my favorite book on the Marathon Monks of Mount Hiei. It was the needed change. The marathon monks strive for diligence, selflessness and compassion. Words and prayers do not sufficiently prove their service to their higher power. They must humbly run, twenty-five miles a day for one hundred consecutive days. Not an easy task, but a task that develops the ability to endure by drawing physical and mental strength from their higher power. Their feats of endurance are incredible.

I have accomplished athletic feats that rank high on the level of difficulty, but mine do not compare to those of the Marathon Monks. They are incredible examples of human capabilities. In as much as my accomplishments took every bit of physical, emotional and mental strength I could muster, the biggest challenge is always to accept that people may see the feats as no more than personal athletic challenges. Maybe I delude myself into believing that these accomplishments are not ego driven, but I do not believe it. They are too draining, too difficult and when complete there is only the relief that the mission was accomplished and reflective questions estimating the depth of its effectiveness. In the end, it makes no difference to me if the media uses my name or an anonymous, I play to an audience of one. What matters is that the people who worked together compassionately and selflessly are recognized as magnificent models of the human spirit and the positive traits with which God blessed us.
My coach and I had our last talk before Kelsey and I leave for the Mur/Drau swim. I expressed the usual parting fears and he send me on my way with his usual words of strength. As I laughingly and then solemnly relayed the previous story to him with a little natural animation, he shook his head at Depak and the Marathon Monks and said…
“Mimi, go in Faith and Get it done!” And that, is the plan; going in faith and following David's lead, leaving small but significant traces of my time time on Earth cultivating the seeds David spent his life planting.

Rivers Without Borders

When I was eleven, we moved from a large home into a considerable smaller house, so I had to share a room with two sisters. Space was limited but we managed to create imaginary boundaries, marking our territory. Most of the time we didn't care if anyone trespassed into our space unless we were mad at each other or just needed solitude.

After the birth of our fourth child, the kids had to share rooms. When our daughters were 5-7, I remember walking into their room and getting scolded because I broke the toilet paper they put up to divide the room, marking their territory. The toilet paper did not function well as a boundary. It tore easily, and the Tennessee humidity made it wet and messy. Through the years they experimented with a variety of barriers but eventually found it worked best to leave it unmarked while understanding and respect for each other's need for personal space.

In California, everyone has a fence around their property, so when I moved to Alabama it was weird to see so many homes withourt any fences. How did people know where their property lines ended? Now, after living in the country for twenty years, fences seem a waste of time, resources and money (unless there are farm animals.) There are no fences to mark our property lines, but everytime a landowner breaks up his land and sells it off, the people move in and inevitably put up a fence. What is this human need to mark our territory?

This need probably does not stem from the civilized man but more from our prehistoric instincts. My experience tells me it is basic to most life forms. Once on a trail run, I noticed something strange in the grass and stopped to take a look. Big mistake! I took one step too many into a skunk's territory. It wasn't marked before, but it didn't take him long to start marking. The uplifted tail was a signal it was time for some speed work.

Last week, a ranger at a State Park commented on the dangers of entering a wild animal's territory. After instructing us on how to survive those types of dangerous situations, he described stinging insects that take offense if you impose on their territory. I thought about the wasps building nests around our house. Do they know they are building in the territory of a consciencious objector and will respect me for it? HMM, remembering the day Tree was literally attacted by a wasp, had an allegic reation and was taken to the hospital via an ambulance, I'd say not. Well, one sting in twenty years isn't bad odds especially since they eat mosquitos.

So the big question is-
Is it possible for us to overcome this innate need to have boundaries? Setting boundaries on our rivers is destroying them. One state dumps into a river as it leaves its borders and the next state dams the river to kill the life of the river in the next state. As seen in the Rio Grande and the Colorado, by the time everyone is done abusing it, either nothing gets to the ocean or what does is horrendously polluted. There are so many people on this planet and our resources are frighteningly limited. The most precious resources are on the verge of being destroyed if we do not overcome the need to place boundaries, mark our territory and selfishly control.
So I suggest Rivers Without Borders. Imagine, rivers that are free to be rivers, wild and full of life. Sounds great, but it is not my idea. It is the goal of most environmentally conscious people along the Drava/Mura/Danube Rivers. It is their goal to have the Transboundary Biosphere Reserve, a biosphere preserved by all the countries that border the proposed reserve. How exciting is that? The statement the bordering countries make supporting and preserving the reserve is profound. As I continue to preach, we all make a difference either positive or negative. Apathy is not noncommital; it is negative. I train and prepare in belief that the Drava swim with make a positive statement about our desperate need to preserve one of the last stretches of a natural river and the surrounding biosphere. It does not have to be restored - yet. If we can promote Rivers without borders, it may never have to be.

Where do I begin...

In the beginning, events are so trivial that they seem unimportant. By the time the implications of those "small" moments are perceiveable, the beginning is faded or even lost. I know the sudden death of David sparked the idea, and I remember Kelsey saying, "if its for Daivd, I'm in" but the sequence of events is sketchy. Now it is, March 18, 2007 and another incredible journey is in full form: The Drava River Swim. Most days there are moments when between work, home, training and preparing for the swim it feels as if my head is going to explode. During those times, I wonder why I cannot seem to make a place in my life for staying at home and relaxing. This morning was unreasonably hectic, a Saturday and the first day of Spring break. Frazzled, I rushed to the Post Office two minutes before it closed and found a letter in my box from a Russian friend. Her last letter was over three years ago. When I read it, I literally broke down and cried- just missing an oncoming truck. This is what her letter said,

"My mother is blind and I work more than usual. It takes all of my free time to care about my mother. I am too tired to write at nights like I use to and there is little to write about. Don't be offended by my silence, please! You opened the window to the world for me! You gave me so much-you cannot even imagine!"

After reading that, it was Niagra Falls, tears of sadness and regret pouring down my face. Here this woman is applauding my input in her life when it is she that so deeply enriched mine. The life lessons she taught me through her experiences during the fall of communism continue to effect my view on society. I wonder...Did I tell her enough times in my letters? Does she have an inkling of the compassion I learned from her? Does she realize the iron door she opened releasing me from my shallow, selfish, family centered world? Does she know that my biggest failure in life is that I did not have the ability to bring her to the US for a visit? Does she know I continue to ponder ideas for that visit? And now, is it impossible for her to visit when she is sandwiched between her offspring and her mother's needs?

After just missing the truck and regaining control of the jeep after fishtailing in the gravel on the side of the road, my eyes dried and I finsihed reading the letter. Afterwards, the Drava swim took on more importance than ever. When we connect with people and our environments we have an effect. It is either positive or negative. The choice is an important one, and it is ours to make. Usually we never know the outcome of our words, random acts of kindness or compassion but rest assured, they are there and they make a difference.

"Be the change you wish to see in the World" Gandhi