Life is not a toggle switch. Exempting trauma, accident, lightening strikes and the like, life seems to plod or race from one stage to another, but always with some sort of modulation. Though arrival at the next event is the goal, perhaps it is in the interim, the preparation, the transition, that life is experienced authentically.
Transition, by definition, is a change from one thing to the next, either in action or state of being. Transition in writing connects and relates. Transition, according to one source, “is awfully reassuring in its tidy reliance on regular forms.”
Transition may conclude or recover from what came before and turn focus and energies towards what is to come. In music, in labor, on birthdays and anniversaries, there may be pause, pain or celebration, but one moment leads to the next by way of transition.
Seasonal changes speak volumes without words. As I write this post, it is the Autumn Equinox 2019. Equinox. Equal night. The sun shines on the equator and the length of day and night are approximately the same. Balance.
Today did we turn off summer and turn on autumn? I think not. This morning I took a few pictures of my gardens, loving the richness of color and the integration of signs of autumn, fallen leaves among the remaining blooms. Nature defines transition by the juxtaposition of the good with the bad, the colorful with the bland, the new with the old.
In Vermont we love to enumerate more than four seasons. We need to do so to recognize all the transitions that are normal because they are not normal. When images of autumn fade: foliage, pumpkins, corn mazes, harvest dinners, there’s space before the Winter Solstice. Stick season. When snow melts and rivers overflow, before fragile signs of spring appear, we endure mud season. (well, actually there are usual several mud seasons throughout the year but we don’t like to acknowledge them) June, when we’d rather be thinking of weddings and camping trips, Vermont can be cold, windy and rainy. The only thing certain, is that the next season will arrive and that there will be undesignated space before it does so.
Seasons teach us life lessons. Letting go of the past and moving on can be heartbreaking or exhilarating. While we honor the past for joys and sorrows, skills to progress and experience to rely upon for future challenges, we recognize that each step has led us to where we are now. We are grateful for the textured fabric of existence that weaves a piece of great beauty. We are reminded to protect and to give back.
“One always has to know when a stage comes to an end. If we insist on staying longer than the necessary time, we lose the happiness and the meaning of the other stages we have to go through. Closing cycles, shutting doors, ending chapters – whatever name we give it, what matters is to leave in the past the moments of life that have finished.” Paulo Coelho
In transition we must let go, hover suspended in physical, mental and emotional space. Rather than trapped amidst paradoxical demands, life in the midst of transition allows for renewal, regeneration and balance. Like a dry sponge soaking up water we are made ready to move forward with energy, enthusiasm, positivity, expectancy and grace. We don’t want to jump ahead so quickly that we miss the experience of step-by-step transition. In fact, we don’t want to miss a thing.
“Ten thousand flowers in spring, the moon in autumn, a cool breeze in summer, snow in winter. If your mind isn’t clouded by unnecessary things, this is the best season of your life.” Wumen Huikai, “The Best Season”





August is a month of vacations that have been saved for last, a month of summer sports team finals, a month of lazy afternoons, cool nights, fireflies and T-storms. It is also a month when I walk my dog in the predawn darkness and am surprised to find the wooded trails closing in well before an earlier sunset. It is a time of growing anticipation for the back to school crowd and an almost panicked dash to fit in that paddle, climb, swim, century or rail trail that seemed a sure thing in May.
But, please, stop. Take a deep breath. You’ve got this. If you find yourself treading water, get swimming! August is dignified. It does not push us into a frenzy. But it says, if you want to do ______________, get organized and just do it. July suggests an infinite number of minutes and even hours. August says, “not so.” But August is not stingy. The daylight and conditions beckon and sustain.
This afternoon as I walked a country road giving my pup and me a quiet day sandwiched between last week and next, I deliberately looked for signs of change. The grasses are more lush, goldenrod is beginning to burst forth, and soon enough the fields of corn will produce sweet ears to savor. OK, that’s good. That’s something that is better than July.
August was so named in 8 BC because of Augustus Ceasar. But I prefer to consider a few words from the definition of the word itself: respected, celebrated, honored. Don’t you agree that to respect this month, to celebrate each day’s opportunity, and to honor our well-being and those with whom we share space – that these might be better concepts to apply to this fruitful month? And, perhaps now, today, not tomorrow or next week, is the very time to take a second look at how we are living our own uniquely individual summer experiences. Avoid regrets, drop everything you can, and indulge in the season. Happy August.
Sharing the summer months with an informal group of individuals loosely connected by their interest in hiking is proving to be a learning experience for all of us. Arguably, any able-bodied person can hike. But does everyone want to? No. I certainly didn’t.
And then came Sophie, my now almost 3-year-old Chocolate Lab who opened this wonderful world for me. Because training is in my psyche, poor Sophie underwent/undergoes lots and lots of training. An exuberantly friendly pup (she IS a Lab, after all) with reliably good trail manners, she also serves as a canine GPS. All this is to say that because there is nothing (except swimming) that Sophie loves more than trails, I have become an avid hiker!
How does one define hiking, anyway? There are meandering forest trails, picturesque bogs, barely defined paths, and rocky climbs with steep precipices and vistas to die for. It’s all hiking and, ultimately, it’s all about making the decision to get out the door and go.
Each hike, each day, each weather condition, each hiking partner(s), each new pair of shoes, each trail snack, each guide book, each hangover (oops), each season, each year – there are no two hikes alike and no one hike that stays the same. It’s all experience – and connection.



I prefer dates, nuts, raisins, trail mix, ok and yes a Clif bar that I always share with my pup, Sophie. I do not promote trendy engineered foods such as power drinks and bars, but rather support “real” foods. I do think that part or all of your drinking water should contain some electrolytes (I prefer Skratch https://www.skratchlabs.com/collections/drinks/products/sport-hydration-drink-mix?gclid=CjwKCAjwmZbpBRAGEiwADrmVXhtL_Wt_SWL_brlBskRWrAyTwOGxdUjb1UfUquBWSHrhhaly2kNGMBoCIcAQAvD_BwE&variant=42591625797or Tailwind https://www.tailwindnutrition.com) and in fact, sipping on Tailwind along the way eliminates a need for food at all unless you get hungry! Oh and Lara is an excellent choice for a bar. Avoid sugary stuff as that will drop you too soon.

Perhaps you gather your gear and block out a small space at your local gym. Or perhaps you are fortunate enough to be able to dedicate a few square yards or even a room in your home to your fitness quest. Let’s run with the latter.
COMPONENTS OF A HOME GYM. Now, in a new home, I can label a small oddly shaped but beautifully bright area my “home gym.” As I began to equip the renovated space to make it work for me (thus functional) I found it quite exciting to define my fitness needs and the least amount of gear I could use to meet those needs.


How sunshine affects one’s fitness level is obvious, but significant in definition. It is patently apparent that a good, sunny day puts a spring in our step and lures us outdoors to participate in a variety of healthy activities that might have seemed drudgery on a different day.
But the notion of new growth budding and blossoming and all that it represents is a notion to hold dear. Each new morning is the springtime of a day. Each new idea, each new adventure, each new connection is the onset of creativity and ultimate fruition.
drives many minutes of each day. It is motivation that underpins major chunks of enthusiasm, fuels the determination to persevere, and keeps one moving on a forward path professionally, personally and simply in being alive.
On a personal note, I found myself slipping from some of the structured practices that I know benefit my day. Early morning journaling and meditation was being lost in a few minutes of extra sleep, at home Yoga practice was giving way to lethargy, outings in the woods with my pup were abandoned. Of course, there is solid reasoning behind this – I need that sleep or the woods are just too wet and messy right now. (Besides, the bears are waking up and they’re hungry!)
Because one of my goals is to be ready to hike when Vermont trails open again the end of May, I need to build strength and endurance now. Much to the delight of my dog, we are leash walking dirt roads a minimum of 3 miles a day, adding ½ mile to our one weekly long walk which should give us at least 10 miles by the time the hikes begin, adding at least one straight up climb each week (useful to live near a ski area that is closed for the season), and, for fun and mental flexibility, daily making sure to have plenty of off-leash ball play and some agility drills for both of us.itself.