It’s been
difficult figuring out how to summarize 2015.
I distinctly remember this time last year I had so much that made me
happy I actually titled a blog post “Finding Joy in 2014” and couldn’t limit
myself to just 14 moments of joy.
But I had a feeling that I might struggle in the future to come up with
additional great things as the years increase (15 moments in 2015, 16 in 2016,
etc). Perhaps it was a sign that this
year would be less than great, maybe it was my natural pessimism. I’m torn between listing everything that was
uncool this year or the people I’m grateful to for helping me through all the
uncool-ness, both lists would be quite long.
My compromise is to list both.
This year I’ve
been too busy, cripplingly self conscious and forced to bail on some awesome plans. My troubles with the whole year could be summed
up in the following story.
August 3 could
have been an interesting day, but it was terrible. The Tour of Utah came to Logan and the Women’s Race went through my neighborhood! August 3rd also fell
right in the middle of my time-crunched field season so I chose to do work
instead. Choosing work over fun was a
responsible decision, but I regretted it.
For years I’ve looked forward to my field season, but this year I was
cranky. Cranky about working alone,
unpleasantly surprised I didn’t like working alone, grouchy that I could feel
my body aging, angry at how long field work takes alone, and experiencing
DEET-related rage at the excessive number of mosquitoes. All the negativity I was carrying boiled over
on August 3rd. It rained more
than 6 cm in a few hours, sending water everywhere – through my clothes and
into my brand new boots, under my “waterproof” tablet case, all over my camera and
phone and into my raincoat pockets. I
thought I was so smart only bringing waterproof things with me into the field,
but electronics that can survive being dropped in the marsh won’t work when wet. Water makes it impossible to type on any
touch screen so my tablet typed nonsense, I couldn’t even open the
data-gathering app on my phone, and my camera was just taking pictures of the
rainwater on the lens.
Every time I
tried to wipe off a screen, dry my nose, or get my hair out of the Velcro on
my raincoat I got angrier. As I was
counting saltgrass flowers I completely lost it – I wasn’t going to remember
how many flowers there were in each plot, I kept dropping my ruler, magic
markers don’t work when wet, and it wasn’t even all saltgrass so I was
wasting my time there! I stood up in the
middle of the meadow and cursed, “God! Why am I even here?!?!” I couldn’t even curse right! While I meant that to be two separate exclamations,
it sounded like one existential plea to Marsh Llama. With
that I gave up and stomped the half mile back to my rig with my boots full of
water and another gallon of water quality samples in my backpack (which couldn’t
come from my boots for some stupid reason), but without the ruler. It was hard work stomping all the way but I
did it because I regretted working in the rain when I could have been watching
the bike race in the rain. Even worse, I
came back to those wetlands four days later to take pictures in the sunshine. All regrettable and not the only time I threw
a crying hissy fit all by myself in the marsh.
 |
| In between visits a Marsh Master came through and mowed over my monitoring well (and maybe the ruler). |
This scenario
played out many times this year: suboptimal decisions, bailing,
self-consciousness and regret. I bailed
on Mt. Elmer, Mt. Peale, and Abajo Peak – what if I’d started on-time and taken
the right way up? I bailed on the last
pitch of Parriot Mesa – what if I’d held on tighter? I bailed on Phyllis – what if I’d taken the
stupider, deer-free way home? I bailed
on a really important relationship – what if I’d said some things earlier or
waited it out a little longer? (It’s
more complicated than that, but I like the symmetry of the sentence style.) I had time to write this today because I bailed
on birthday shopping after a terrible accident closed Sardine Canyon.
 |
| As close as I got to Mt. Elmer, Mt. Peale, and Abajo Peak |
In OK years I’d
have summed everything up like this: I’m grateful this year that I wasn’t tumbled
down a mountain, struck by lightning, eaten by a bear, slain by a deer, frozen,
brain-damaged, or physically crushed. I’m
further grateful sadness hasn’t literally broken my heart and that none of
those mosquitoes gave me an encephalitic fever. While I am happy to be alive, I feel
thoroughly beaten by this year. If I don’t
acknowledge that it wasn’t OK nothing will change and I’ll get bad juju pretending
that everything is epic and awesome when I fail as frequently as everyone
else. It’s been difficult to get by without
weekend warrior victories to boost my self esteem. At the end of many weeks I’ve felt much older
than I had seven days before. In
addition to bailing on so many dreams, I’ve been too busy trying to teach and
take classes, and complete my own research to focus on the people and
activities I love. I’ve only put up a
handful of blog posts this year because I’ve been too busy to write anything
fun. Instead I’ve been working on
expressive writing and acknowledging what I feel without reacting to it, so I’m
very clear on just how uncool this year was and how uncomfortable that made
me.
 |
| Among the uncomfortable feelings I sat with - all the self loathing generated by editing my video lectures. I'm too itchy and I hate the way I blink and start sentences now. |
But it hasn’t
been all bad. When I look back at the
good things that happened this year, it’s clear that I succeeded when I had my
people with me.
Karina and I
climbed Lost World Butte with an assist from Brent
Brent, Karina
and I successfully located and explored a safe, abandoned mine
I finished my
first ultra marathon with Mike and Austin (and it was a great time)
I led most of
Longbow Chimney with Brent (lots of problem solving)
I went on the Maine
to Maryland Hazelton Hospitality Tour with Chad (and lobster!)
Karina and I finished
the Cache Gran Fondo (oh, the views; oh, the suffering)
Minor Solitary
Success – I summitted Mt Ellen (in good time and good weather)
I climbed Lost
Arrow Spire with Brent (scary yet satisfying; lots of cooperation)
Ran the Top of
Utah Marathon and the Halloween Half Marathon (love my running sisters)
The three of us
climbed Steinfell’s Dome (not even rain could dampen our spirits)
Ride Around the
Wellsvilles v3 was a success (Spooky Edition)
Other good
things that happened with my people this year: I went on two family vacations
to Bear Lake, full of good views and great company. My family grew this year with the addition of
a 4th nibling and a brother-in-law.
My people helped me with teaching by giving great guest lectures and
helping with field trips. After my
accident with Phyllis, several people helped me get out of Bicknell, and have
continued to give me rides or lend me their cars when needed. My people even helped me through a traumatic
break-up.
I didn’t tell
anyone about the end of my relationship for weeks because I was so upset about
it and couldn’t bare the terrible responses I expected. Instead of giving bad advice about
forgetting and moving on, my people said the most helpful things. They said they were surprised and sorry to
hear about it; that they didn’t know what to say, but would be thinking about us. They cried with me, shared their Netflix
recommendations, and gently coaxed me out of the house with the promise of
sandwiches. I’ve got a great support
system and have a lot of good karma to pay back. Ultimately I’m faced with an introvert’s nightmare:
I need my people in order to be happy. I
don’t know how to proceed with that knowledge, but it’s comforting to have so
many moments that renewed my faith in humanity.
I turned to my
Word of the Day emails for some 2016 inspiration found four new, appropriate words:
Peripeteia – a sudden turn of events or
an unexpected reversal
Landloper – a wanderer, vagrant, or
adventurer
Indefatigable – incapable of being tired
out, not yielding to fatigue; untiring
Pandiculation – the act of stretching
oneself
I’m hoping for some fortuitous peripeteias in 2016 and to pandiculate as I
become an indefatigable landloper. Thanks
for all the love and support this year.
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