You know what's cool...

You know what's cool?  Being the best version of yourself for people.

I feel like I've spent a lot of time recently forming my tribe.  My support system.  The people that I am choosing to influence me and the people that I can go to with my shit.  Not my physical shit, but my metaphorical shit.  The shit that keeps me up at night wondering if I'm capable of pulling off this whole life thing.

I feel like that's a heavy thing for me to ask a lot of my friends to help me carry, but.. I can't carry it alone, so I have to ask.  And, as a way to repay them for my debt, I help them carry some of theirs.  Fair is fair, right?  If I expect this from the people in my life, then it's only fair that when I offer up my carrier services that I do so in the best possible way that I can.

In my latest string of human being improvement inquiries I've realized that there are very few things that I can do for the people in my life; my friends, family, clients, and coworkers, that is less important than listening to them.  Not just listening, but listening.

We've all, I'm sure, heard about the difference between hearing and listening.  That's not what I'm here to write about.  We've all heard it, we're all sick of it.  What I'm here to do, is to give out real tools for improving your relationship with listening.

How do I know that I'm the kind of person that would benefit from listening training?

• Are you a human being?

Hard stop.  We have a lack of listening epidemic on our hands.  Like our entire society.  Our desire to feel connected to our community is as ingrained into our biology as breathing is.  One way that we can feel a stronger connection is to feel like we understand and are understood.  But how do we expect to be understood if we don't communicate?  And part of effective communication is... listening.  I get it though, it's hard.  My friend Leslie put it perfectly, 'listening is a conscious choice', you have to decide that you are going to do that thing.  And if this is something that you aren't used to doing it can seem difficult.  What was it like when you first started typing on a keyboard, searching for each individual letter, painstakingly scouring the keys that are in no particular order to find the one that matches your needs.  With some practice, though, now your fingers fly across the keys.  What used to take hours now feels like seconds, and now you can type an entire Facebook rant without even blinking.  So how do we do the thing?
Let's talk about 3 places to start.

1. 'It's an occupational hazard of being packaged in a body, that the universe is outside and you are obviously then center of it' -Jon Kabat Zinn wrote that.  I think what he is telling us here is that it is soooo incredibly easy for us to show up to a conversation with only ourselves in mind.   How deflating does is feel when you are sharing something with someone and all they can do is relate is back to themselves?  Comment- 'hey, I recently reconnected and have starting hanging out again with this mutual person that we knew in the past'  Answer- 'cool, you know who I just saw, this random person that means nothing to either of us or, quiet frankly, the original person that you mentioned'.  Deflating.  The wind is immediately and abruptly stripped from your sails and you've missed the opportunity to share a meaningful conversation about reconnecting with past acquaintances.  That's not listening.  And when that happens with the small stuff, why would anyone go there with the big stuff?  And the big stuff is how we are understood.  So.. do what you can to check your ego at the door and show up to a conversation with a mind wide open.
2. Show up.  Not just physically.  Actually show. up.  We don't always like going down into the basement, we all have insecurities and it can be scary to go down there.  It commonly requires an emotional commitment that we aren't always willing to make.  But, if you go down there with someone and they hold the flashlight for you, you may find out that your basement looks a lot like theirs, and you know what that means- they may be able to help you find your way out.  Even if their basement looks nothing like yours, the cobwebs aren't in the same places, the cracks in the foundation aren't as shallow or as deep, but if they can show up to the conversation and really listen it really doesn't matter.  So show up, sit across from someone, put your phone down, look them in the eyes, and don't just wait for the next time you can interrupt.
3. Form questions, not assumptions.  Not much makes me jump to defense as making assumptions about where I'm coming from.  Everyone interacts with life through the lens of their own experiences so how easy is it to assume that everyone else is looking through your lens, and that they would experience something the same way that you did.  Instead, ask a question about how they identify with what they are talking about.  I promise you'll understand way more about someone by asking what it was like to grow up with 4 siblings than to assume that their life was crazy and that their mom was always chauffeuring around them and their siblings.  To be fair, it does take genuine interest in a person or topic to be able to pose thoughtful and thought provoking questions, but curiosity doesn't always kill the cat, and truthfully questions don't always have to be thought provoking.  You are allowed to ask, 'hey how was that presentation that you were nervous about giving?' without it being a profound, ground breaking moment between 2 people.  And when you are looking for questions to ask, use the trick that journalists use- start questions with who, what, where, when, why, and how.  Close ended questions, with yes or no answers aren't going to get you very far.

Do I think that listening is a skill?  Yes.  Do I also think it will strengthen the connections that you have and improve every aspect of your life?  Also yes.  Do I think that you have to give it to get it?  The MOST yes.
So I'm posing a challenge- try one of the things I suggested above, just once, and see how it goes.  We're all in this together and remember skills take practice.  I'm still working hard on this one too.

I've done it again...

I've done it again.  I went and asked all of my friends the question I should have been asking myself all along.  And instead of just sitting down and writing about it, I just spent the past few weeks interviewing as many of the people, who's opinions I value, as I can on the topic.  I've been obsessed, recently with the difference between fear and danger.  And when I say obsessed.. I mean OBSESSED.
I want to know what to do with each one of them.
I want to know what each one of them feels like in my body.
I want to know what each feels like in other people's bodies.
I want to know what people's relationship is with both of them.
I even want to know what people think the world would be like without them.

Fear has such an interesting place in our society.  To us and our monkey brains, it's perceived danger, right?  But, what one person perceives against another, can be wildly different.  One person thinks that their most fearful act is to jump off of a 50 foot cliff, while another, would do that no problem.. but are terrified to tell someone how they feel about them.  And you know what's funny?  Most of the time when it's pure, true, clean, fear isn't not actually dangerous.  Sure jumping off of a cliff is frightening, and has it's risks, but to someone who has done it countless times, that fear may not go away completely, but the danger certainly reduces.
I've heard fearlessness defined not as the absence of fear, but the total presence of fear with the courage to face it, which is so beautiful to me.  I think there is real work in recognition of fear, not as something that should be ran from, but instead as an indicator that we are pointed in the right direction.  I asked my friend Hannah what she thought of fear, and her answer was exactly the reason why I love her so much.  'To me- I charge towards fear.  I see something that could be difficult, or overwhelming, or challenging, and it has to take a lot for me not to say yes and go into it.  And yeah, sometimes it causes me some problems, but I always learn so much from it, and I know this sooo much about myself, that I haven't found a good reason yet, not to say yes to fear...'  What a gal, huh?  My relationship with fear has been a work in progress.  I used to buckle under fear.  At least the emotional kind.  Throwing myself down a mountain on 2 pieces of wood strapped to my feet- no problem.  Barrel down the same mountain on metal frame with 2 wheels- again, no problem.  Well, not no problem, but to me the perception of risk for these activities was so low because I had done it so many times.  I grew up on those pieces of wood, I had been balancing on that metal frame since I was a toddler.  Does that mean when I would come across a dangerous section of the trail in front of me, that I wouldn't take care of myself and go around it?  Of course not, but I never payed any attention to the difference.  Emotional fear was different.  The first time that I didn't listen to my intuition about emotional fear, it turned into danger.. go figure.  So later on when that perception of risk crept in, I would turn into one of those cartoon characters that leaves only the dust outline of their figure behind.  What a way to live, right?

I've heard that fear halts growth.  Fear is something that is meant to be overcome.  Why?  Because of the feeling on the other side of fear.  The overwhelming sense of pride, joy, and release from the bind of fear is so irresistible that we almost can't help ourselves.  So, how then, do we know the difference?
No, actually- I'm asking..
If fear is perceived danger, and danger is the possibility of suffering harm or injury, and we're supposed to run from one, and charge towards the other, how do we tell the difference?

Since the place that I seemed to have the most luck determining the difference is on the ski hill, or the bike track, I started there.  When I would come across an aspect that looked difficult or that I had never done, I would close my eyes, take a breath, and open them again.  If I felt it in my stomach and curiosity snuck in, I knew I was afraid and this was an aspect that I was meant to overcome.  If I felt it in my heart and I could only think of what could go wrong, this aspect wasn't for me.  And, it started working!  Not without some room for error of course, but that's when Hannah comes in and I learn what I can from the situation- aka face plant.  So now comes the work.  We have already established that there are metaphors in the sports world, and if your not following me, here is the link.  Here it is again, just in case.  So, good, now that we've recognized that- we work on listening to those same cues in other parts of our lives.  Mental, emotional, career..  And I'm using the collective we.  Actually, I'm mostly using the 'listen to yourself Bunn'- but this is why I write.

I also think it's worth exploring what the world might look like in the absence of fear.  Not in the absence of danger.  Only fear.  How would that look?  'Well, we would have people throwing themselves off of cliffs'.  Right, we already have that.  But we would also have a lot more people unafraid of applying for a job they might not have previously, or falling in love with someone who isn't their type, or learning how to fly one of those little 2 passenger airplanes that are so cool.  And, what a tremendous world that would be.  When you think about all of the little things that could go wrong in my new world where fear is unavailable, don't forget to put this idea into perspective.  My friend Robin asked me 'Don't you think there would be a lot more annoyance from people always telling each other how they feel?  Like if my patience is wearing thin with you and I tell you that, it hurts your feelings.'  Right, but if the world started off this way then we wouldn't know the difference.  And, what a relief right?  Trying to figure out where you stand with people is such an anxiety producer, imagine a world without that..
I do think, though, that a world without fear would eventually perpetuate the analytical class.  Those that sit back and watch the first person jump off the cliff are less likely to do it if the first person experiences danger or death.  So then, we end up with a world full of watchers.  But is that not where we are now?  To some extent?  Aren't we all sitting here saying, you shouldn't do that, you shouldn't ride your bike down that mountain, you shouldn't run the country this way, you shouldn't dream about something that could never exist- but then we don't do anything about it, because we are afraid that our action isn't the right one.  Or is that just me?

Either way, I think that we (I) can and should learn from the Hannah's of the world.  Those who's relationship with fear is to say: ok fear, I see you.  But I only see you as an obstacle, not as a road block.  And when I've mistakenly stumbled upon danger instead of fear .. that's a learning opportunity.

I've come to the conclusion...

I've come to the conclusion that lessons are everywhere.  We all know that mistakes teach us things.  Every single one of them.  We touch a hot burner and we learn to- not touch the hot burner.  Those are easy- you don't need me to write an entire blog post about learning lessons from our mistakes.  I think something we often forget is that there are lessons elsewhere.  When we accomplish something we pat ourselves a job well done and move on.  Few people reflect on the accomplishment and figure out what went right.  That's lesson #1 from me today.  Also! According to David Foster Wallace here we can find lessons in the mundane-ness of life.. it's just up to us to show up and pay attention.  I highly suggest that you take the 22 minutes to listen to that David Foster Wallace YouTube video when you get the chance, it'll change your life.  Here's the link again, just in case :)
This post isn't really about finding lessons in mistakes, successes, or the mundane-ness of life.  What it's really about is finding lessons in my favorite place to find them: action sports, and how they can relate to our everyday life.

Commitment issues:
As I get better at climbing, I'm finding myself on more difficult routes.  What makes one climbing route more difficult than another can be as simple as the distance between hand holds.  For the holds that are just out of reach, the talent is in your ability to shift your body position and, more importantly- your commitment to the move. Instead of just standing up on one leg and reaching for the hold, you have to actively push, fully extending your opposite leg and watch your hand grab the hold.  It's almost like jumping to the next hold (which some people actually do.. I'm not there, yet) Especially with bouldering though, full extension of a limb can be scary. If your hand doesn't make it to the hold- you're falling off the wall.  Fear of commitment to a move.  Or a line.  Or to another person comes from us needing to have an out. If we don't commit fully, if we don't put in everything we have, every ounce of effort we could possibly put forward.. we can avoid the grueling pain of potential failure. If we miss the climbing hold, or crash on our decent, or get our hearts broken, it was because of our lack of commitment- not because we weren't good enough. Our brains are hard wired for loss aversion.. so much so that we miss the opportunity for pleasure because of it. Our instincts tell us that potential pain from loss out weighs potential pleasure from gain.  So we hold back.  We don't push off that leg.  We don't get aggressive on a steep decent.  We don't give ourselves over completely to another person. We get scared to fully commit to the move.  And what's funny is, this lack of commitment is usually what ends up destroying us in the end.  If we can muster up the courage, which Brene Brown doesn't define as bravery, but instead as 'speaking from the heart', to push off with everything we have and reach for that hold, we are more likely to get it.  And you know what, if we don't at least we can walk away with a sense of full effort.

Gripping to tightly:
When we get scared our natural impulse is to hold on tighter. To our handlebars, to the climbing wall, to the people that we think are leaving us. The only thing that we ever get from this, though, is fatigue. Hands turn into claws that need to be peeled from handlebars, forearms get so pumped full of blood that fingers fall off the wall, and your broken heart ends up hurting even more than if you had just let them walk out in the first place.  We fatigue our bodies and minds by holding on too tightly to the things that we think we can't live without. What's funny though, is that you can absorb high impact for longer with a loose grip, have fewer falls from the rock by treating your holds like eggshells, and improve the quality of people you surround yourself with by letting those who are not serving you walk out.  When I notice that I'm over gripping on the wall, I pause and sit back.  I rely on my harness and belyer to hold me up while I release the bad energy from my forearms and let them rest.  When I notice it on my bike and I come into an easier section, I lift my pinkies off the bars.  When I notice that I'm holding too tightly to people in my life I ask myself are the people and things that you surround yourself with actively improving your experience? If not, let them go and say 'see you another time'- commonly the over gripping is what is driving them away in the first place.  So grasp lightly on your climbing holds, let go of your pinkies when you're riding through the easy stuff, and cherish the meaningful relationships in your life.

Search mode and send mode:
On avalanche beacons there are two different modes: search mode and send mode. Send mode we use for the times that we are skiing and search mode comes in when someone gets caught up in an avalanche and we need to find them. Scary right? We find a similar concept on mountain biking shocks: they're open for flying downhill and locked out when you are climbing up.  Not as scary as search mode, but locking out your shocks means that the fun is over and it's time to work again. Locking out your shocks and putting your beacon into search mode can seem daunting, even scary but they are necessary to a balanced and fulfilled adventure (read; life). If we spend our entire lives in send mode, flying down the hill as fast as we can, we never have time to stop and get the work done. Our lives become a 'plug and play' and we spend the entirety of it just barely in control. Don't forget to stop every so often, flip into search, lock out your shocks, and collect some information about yourself. 

Overcorrection:

When we do make a mistake our natural instinct is to correct in the opposite direction.  When our car skids we turn the wheel the opposite direction, when you end up off balance on your bike you shift your weight to stay upright, when you narrowly miss a tree while skiing through the glades you react quickly to avoid the next one.  Correction is fine.  Necessary even.  If we OVER correct, however, we end up imbalanced in the other direction and fall any way. Sometimes we use this over correction as a way to punish ourselves for our initial mistake. Eating a pint of ice cream in a single sitting means we're only eating salad for the next 2 weeks and going to the gym every day.  Dating someone who is emotionally unavailable is over corrected to someone who is wayyy to available. Stand to long at the top of a biking aspect and talk yourself into the fear of it.  Try it anyway, and end up on your face.

It's best to avoid correction in the first place, so I'm working on learning the difference between fear and danger. Turn toward fear and away from danger.  Fear may require a correction, danger will almost always result in over correction.  Be assertive with the course that you are going to take, the things that you need, and accept that you've made a mistake when you do. Mistakes are what makes you human, learn from them and course correct from there.

Trusting your body
Trusting your body and mind to make the right decisions for you in time of panic or crisis is SO hard.  But, I also think, at least for me, so essential.  Growing up I learned very quickly how to suppress my own self trust and for a while.. that worked for me.  When I would come across a problem on the mountain bike trail that I didn't trust I could handle I would slam on the brakes.  This actually put me into bigger trouble more often than not.  No bike is ever going to land correctly and no biker is going to be safe when the wheels are stuck in place.  Chances are, you're going over the handle bars and landing flat on your face.  Instead I've been actively trusting that my body knows what to do on the trails, and crossing that over, that my mind knows what to do with my decisions.  Not every aspect of the trail HAS to go perfectly- today my ride was far from perfect.  But, (and this is an ultimate career goal of mine) by trusting our bodies to take us where it needs to go and tell us what it needs to tell us, we can switch the necessity of taking care of it into a desire. For me- trusting that I've put in enough hours on the bike and that my intuition is going to tell me what line to take, erases SOME of the fear associated with throwing myself down a mountainside at the fastest possible speed I can. Building that trust in my body has also enhanced the trust that I have in my mind and the decisions that I'm making. Yes, I do want to eat mostly vegetables and continue to ride my bike until I'm 110. Yes, the friends that I surround myself with are meaningful. Yes, the career field I've chosen is important. 

When something happens and we break the trust we have with our bodies (trauma, aging, injury, illness) that mistrust is where the questions in our mind come from. Should I take this job or that? Is this the right person for me? Are my friends well intentioned? AM I CAPABLE? Capable of lifting this weight? Biking that line? Climbing that route? Cooking that dinner? Providing for myself and my family?

By slowing down, being patient with our wants and needs, committing to things that scare us, and trusting ourselves to handle it- we increase the trust we have with both our minds and bodies.  And I think that's an important life lesson.

Hi everyone, my name is Lisa. And I'm addicted to being outside.

Hi everyone, my name is Lisa.  And I'm addicted to being outside.

I need to be outside.  Like, NEED to.  Most days after work I find myself either down by a fishing hole on the Winooski river or wandering the trails of various systems close by.  Why?  Well why does an alcoholic drink?  According to Psychology Today 'it provides existential relief'.  For me, going in the woods or standing by a river allows me to feel calm.  In a world that's as fast paced and technology driven as ours, I love the idea that there are still parts of the world where the only things you can hear are the birds, or where you're cell phone doesn't work, or the fact that there's a place that can only be reached by using your own body.  Unlike alcohol and other drugs, I don't think my addiction of being outside has negatively impacted those in my life (if it has, let me know) but I still think it's important to share.
I'd also like to share the reasons why I love being outside so much.  The woods create an even playing field.  Sure, maybe some people in the group have more efficient gear, or better shoes, or a faster bike, but the reality is- if you want to be safe, you're going to move at the pace of the slowest person.  And when it comes down to it, you're going to reach your destination when you reach it.  And it will be as beautiful as it is supposed to be for you.  AND!  It probably won't be as beautiful in a photograph as it was in person, so you better enjoy the crap out of it in the moment.  (How cool is that?)
I LOVE how strongly you need to listen to your intuition when you're outside.  Call it hippie mumbo jumbo but I feel strongly that people's (maybe just mine?) intuition gets muted by the over stimulating world, and when they in the woods the pipeline gets power washed of all the Facebook, current event news, social normaties, sludge that slows down the communication between intuition and conscious thought.  This is one of the reason's why I think people feel more comfortable opening up, tell the truth, and feel more connected to each other in the woods.

My road to addiction, I think, had 2 major on ramps.  The first was the insistence my parents had on backpacking the Northville-Placid Trail with my brother and I when we were young. And the second was the summer I spent as a lifeguard at a residential Girl Scout camp in the Adirondacks.  I've had other various, bear attack, helicopter skiing, 14er climbing related occasions that have amplified my life outside, but the 2 that I'm going to share really solidified it.

Northville-Placid Trail
When I was 10 years old, my parents decided it would be a good idea to put everything that my family needed on our backs and live in the woods for 5 days.  They did that with their vacation time... I'm not entirely sure where they got the idea from- I know my dad had pretty profound summer camp experiences and they took a backpacking trip together in their 20s, but either way- when I think about the vacation time that adults rarely have anyway, I can't believe they chose to spend it walking 30 miles with 2 snot nose little kids.  The Northville-Placid Trail is about 136 miles in length and unlike the 3 month, 2190 mile journey of the Appalachian Trail, the NPT takes experienced hikers about 10 days to finish end to end.  Again, since I was 10 and my parents are sane, we broke it up into sections and only finished off the last part a year or so ago.  The first section we did when I was, like I said, 10 years old.  I had no idea what a frame pack was, I had never eaten freeze dried foods, and my tent camping experience was minimal.  The first night we spent in the woods was exciting and new.  Making dinner, putting together a fire, and ignoring my bed time lit me up inside.  I was ready to take on the world.  Then, the second or third night we were out there I had a panic attack.  I remember hiking a pretty long distance that day and my short little legs had been weighed down by a bulky frame pack that I kept insisting my family members take things out of.  We got to our lean-to for the night and started making camp.  The Adirondack lean-tos are known for having journals in them that people can make entries in when they stop through.  Trail conditions, weather, general musings, and in our case a rowdy boy scout troop trying to scare 10 year old girls. "...rabid raccoon ate Jack" I remember it saying... and I LOST it.  Tears, panic, sweating- I had been dragged through the woods with no TV, carrying all of my fresh underwear for the week in a frame pack that didn't allow for my pig tails to properly bounce, and now I was going to be eaten by a raccoon.  NO WAY!  I was done.  This was my first experience with any sort of anxiety or panic which seems a little backwards to me now that I go to the woods to feel the opposite of that.. Anyway, my mom managed to calm me down that night by promising that if a rabid raccoon came into our tent she would volunteer herself first.  What a gal.  I don't know what happened in my brain after that, but I was hooked.  I had my struggles through the rest of the trip, sure, but something about the realization that I could face and overcome fears for the first time while I was sitting in the woods clicked with me.

Look at how happy that kid is to have lived in the woods for 5 days.  My brother on the other hand... was probably sick of me singing camp songs at the top of my lungs to keep the bears away.

Lake Clear Girl Scout Camp
I don't remember every year that I spent at camp (there were 9 of them, by the way) but I remember parts of the first.  And I remember the last.  I remember the first friend that I made at camp.  We were both 4th, going into 5th graders- which I think makes me the same age as when I did the NPT?  Maybe a year later?  Either way, I remember she was the only one in my group that I felt connected and safe with, but then she got really home sick and scared and ended up going home every night before bed.  I was homesick and scared too, but letters from my mom helped and the fact that she wasn't going to drive an hour each way every night just to pick me up and drop me off at camp REALLY helped motivate me to stay.  That was one of the first times in my life that I realized that when I'm faced with uncomfortableness I had 2 choices.  I could run away or I could stay and fight through it.  Interestingly, my first year at camp wasn't nearly as important to me as my final year.  I had gone through various experiences with camp- having all of our food eaten by bears, swimming across the lake at 5am, and ***.  But they were nothing compared to the things I learned about love and friendship from my final summer there.  I spent that summer as the camp lifeguard.  There were 4 of us on the waterfront staff and we were by far the best people there.  Among the lifeguard staff was one a counselor that I had looked up to as a camper who had an already established friendship with the then arts and crafts director.  Together the 3 of us existed in Girl Scout Camp world, where we only referred to each other by camp names, and our jobs were to be entertaining.  We started off that summer getting in trouble during staff orientation week and it was all downhill from there.  The rest of the summer included shenanigans like finding and playing with pet turtles, washing our hair in the lake that we also peed in, participating in jello and french toast eating contests, wrestling for greased watermelons, and sneaking into the kitchen or off camp property for snacks (when the substances we were on called for it).  We did almost lose our jobs a few times that summer, but it was all in the name of the development of our secret society.  Secret society?  Yeah- our secret society.  The secret has gotten out over the past few years so I don't feel guilty laying it out here.  Since one of the founding members of our society was the arts and crafts director, she got to choose which projects the girls did.  One of those projects was something we called wish boats.  The girls would scour around camp picking up pieces of bark, little sticks, leaves, and pine cones, or whatever suited their fancy, and form them into boats.  They would then come up with a wish, write it down and hot glue the wish along with a candle to the boat.  During the last night of camp we would have a camp fire and those that made wish boats would be able to release them into the lake with the candle lit.  We would tell the little girls that if the boat was gone in the morning, their wish would come true! Unnnnnfortunately for them... hot glue, paper, and candles litter the lake, so after all the girls went to bed we would have to canoe around and collect all of the boats.  This task was more or less doable depending on the various focus and thunder and lightening circumstances that we had.  But, no matter what, we pretty much got it done.  We would then throw out the boats and bring the wishes to the fort that we built in the woods and read them out loud.  Some of them were happy (I wish to go to a Hannah Montana concert), some of the were really inappropriate (I wish to get laid in the 9th grade), and some of them were really sad (I wish my grandma was still alive).  And even though we would never figure out who wrote what wish, we kept them all.  They're still safe in a scrapbook now 10 years later.

I ultimately learned most of the most important life lessons about friendship, love, and unconditional wishing in the woods, so for that- I owe a canoe full of gratitude.

Public Policy Workshop 2017

Whenever I’m in an airport I tend to let my mind wander.  Where is that person going?  What are they going to be doing there?  What did they have for breakfast?  While I was waiting for my flight to Washington DC, I knew exactly where the people in the waiting area were going- and what they were doing.  They, like me, were on their way to the Academy of Nutrition and Dietetics Public Policy Workshop.  To put it into the Academy’s words, PPW is an ‘annual food and nutrition advocacy summit, where you get up to date on current issues, and learn how to become the voice of nutrition that Congress trusts.’  We spent two days in our nation’s capital learning how to advocate for our profession.  This is my story of being there for the first time.

If anyone had told me a year ago I would be sitting in Senator Bernie Sanders’ office discussing preventative nutrition policy and nutrition education in the Farm Bill with his staffers, I would have said that you were crazy.  I got into policy about six months ago when I first got into the nutrition field.  I was a brand new dietitian and found myself the Director of Nutrition for a group wellness program.  The biggest deterrent for our program is cost.  In Massachusetts and New Hampshire the program is covered in full by insurance providers, in Vermont… it’s not.  After our argument fell on deaf ears with private insurance companies, I remembered Martha Rardin, a dietitian from my internship, speaking to us about making real changes in our profession and legislation through advocacy.  After volunteering for the State Policy Representative position with the Vermont affiliate of the AND, I found myself in an advocacy role.  That role with VAND is how I found myself at the Public Policy Workshop.  The people that I see for nutrition services were why.

During the 48 hours that I spent in Washington DC, I was not alone.  Sure, I was with over 300 dietitians and nutrition professionals, and the AND armed me with everything I needed.  We spent five weeks prior to the workshop on webinars learning about how to advocate, and the issues that we’d be focusing on.  We learned about the Farm Bill and how SNAP-Ed and EFNEP affected our lives, and we learned about how the preventative care industry could be improved to enhance our practices.  Those issues were at the focal point of the Academy, but they are also important to me.  Like I said, while in DC, I was not alone.  In my thoughts, I was also with Michael, a gentleman who lost 50 pounds with the help of our preventative care practice and dropped both his total cholesterol and fasting blood glucose out of the risk ranges for chronic illness.  Kathy, a new grandmother who, after taking our 13 week class, now had the energy to play with her grandbaby was also with me.  And, I was with Kara, a single mom who put herself first by asking for our help and now exercises on a regular basis and now feeds her family fresh fruits and vegetables.  These stories, along with the other Vermonters who have walked through our doors were the reason why I decided to speak up for my profession.  After all, if dietitians don’t do it - no one will. 

                I got to Washington DC on Sunday morning and the workshop didn’t start until the afternoon.  I went to the hotel, and my room wasn’t ready.  No problem.  The Smithsonian American Art Museum was only a few blocks away and had a courtyard where I could grab some lunch and read my book while I waited.  When I walked into the museum I realized that admission was free, so I thought to myself ‘well, I don’t have pay, I might as well look around.’  I wandered through and found myself looking at an exhibit about some of the big change makers in the United States during the civil rights movement, Martin Luther King Jr., Rosa Parks, and I kept hearing, as an echo in my head, words from the book I was reading on the plane ‘When the civil rights leaders began to force a reckoning with otherness in the 1960s, they did so in the name of love.’¹  Those that enacted, arguably, the greatest changes in our country didn’t do it from a place of data, numbers, violence, or outrage.  They did it from a place of love.  In his book, Across That Bridge, John Lewis claims that ‘the Civil Rights Movement, above all, was a work of love.  Yet even 50 years later, it is rare to find anyone who would use the word love to describe what we did.’²  Now, I’m not equating the advocacy of 300+ dietitians over one weekend to the enormity of the Civil Rights Movement - not in the slightest.  But, I felt so incredibly energized knowing that the small steps that I was taking, and the motivation behind them, were pushing me in the right direction.

                With that energy, the guidance from the AND, and the view of the sun setting over the national monuments, I was ready to charge the hill on Monday!  Vermont is lucky for a couple of reasons.

1) We’re a tiny state.  We have two Senators and one Representative, so we only had three meetings to attend.  While some would look at this as a negative - we only got to speak to three members of congress - we chose to look at it as a positive.  For some of our Vermont team this was their third of forth time attending so they have gotten to know the staff that we were meeting with.  Because of this, they have been able to form relationships over the past few years.  And, while we only got to speak to three members of congress, they have large voices in the House and the Senate.  So, for us, what we were asking from our representatives reached further than that which was provided by AND.  We also got to urge them to speak up to their fellow congress members about our issues.

And, 2) we ended up ‘preaching to the choir’ to some extent.  In Senator Leahy’s office after we landed our ask - ‘we want to urge Senator Leahy to continue to fund the Prevention and Public Health Fund’ - his staff member looked us in the eyes and said ‘he is’.  But, it was nice knowing that we wouldn’t run up against a wall while we were talking, and again we got to urge them to speak to other members of congress about our issues.

I know this seems like I’m into politics and policy a lot, but I’m not. Other than overhearing my roommates talk about current events in the news and reading my Facebook from time to time, I’m not super invested in politics. But I do feel a responsibility to advocate for my profession because it is my livelihood and because I care about the people that I work with.  And, I didn’t start off by committing to go to Washington DC for a weekend.  I started small, just a few action alerts when the emails came.  But I started paying more attention until found myself in front of the staff of Patrick Leahy talking about nutrition in legislation and why it matters.

Day 9: Caught Somewhere Between Heaven and Earth

Ok, confession: when I initially thought about, and signed up to go heli-skiing in Alaska I thought we were just- going on a ski trip.  ‘I like skiing’ I thought ‘doing that in Alaska would be cool’.  Ok, second confession:  I asked every single person that I knew if they thought it was a good idea.  And the response varied across the board

‘Hell yeah! That’s awesome!’

‘Wait, Alaska?! You can’t ski that, can you?’

‘Are you going to jump out of the helicopter?’

And my response to each person only eased his or her anxiety.

‘Yeah, thanks!  It is awesome’

‘Well, I’m sure going to try’

‘As far as I know- no one has ever jumped out of the helicopter’

None of this did much to ease my own, though.  I actually started this process with a lot of ‘maybes’ and a lot of questions.  Am I good enough to handle it?  How am I going to get off of work?  Do I want to invest my time and money into this or something more socially acceptable?  Then I was talking to a coworker about the trip and he said something that has carried me though the trip ‘wait, what if you did go?’ he said ‘picture for 5 seconds, yourself actually going’.  And so I did… and something felt so right about it.  So, immediately after those 5 seconds I started planning.  Things started falling into place, airplanes booked, time off of work, ready, set, go.

It wasn’t until I actually got here that I realized this trip was about so much more than skiing.  It was about letting go, and holding on, and erasing ‘shoulds’ and ‘maybes’ from my vocabulary.  For the longest time I was the kind of person that needed an opinion from everyone before I did something.  It didn’t matter much what their opinion was, it just mattered that I heard it.  I’ve spent my entire life doing the things that people want me to, or that are socially acceptable.  I think they call that a ‘people pleaser’.

I first got to the airport with my typical ‘what the hell did I just get myself into’ attitude, but upon landing I realized what it was.  I got myself into a week of education from Lynsey, the other girls around me, our guide, and the mountains.  Open and honest communication is an essential tool of the backcountry.  If you sense something is wrong and don’t speak up you are not only risking your life but those around you as well.  These tools paralleled into our moment-to-moment activities and interactions easily.  We all were quickly on a journey together exploring conversation topics such as saying yes, leaning into the unknown, life, love, and cereal.  Ok, third confession:  I didn’t realize how difficult it has been for me, in the past, to say yes.  Something about this trip felt right though and made it easy, and boy am I glad I did.   

Our guide Harlan was not only our mountain guide but our spiritual guide as well.  He spoke of the hero’s journey; saying yes, leaving home, and conquering our own personal demons- which struck a different cord in each of us since we were all here for different reasons.  We were encouraged to speak up when we were feeling something, which gave me the confidence to speak up on top of the mountain.  I consider myself a pretty good skier but the day before had been long and on our final run I got caught up in some slough and lost a ski.  We looked for a little bit but eventually Harlan and I had to tandem ski to the helicopter landing zone to end our day.  Tandem skiing in 12 inches of powder- not easy, and wasn’t something that was on my bucket list until I did it.  I didn’t think something like that would affect me until the next morning when we were rushed out of bed for a few runs before the weather went bad.  Having to skip morning meditation and stretchy time after the way that we ended the previous day left me unsettled.  And you know what’s funny… I wasn’t the only one feeling that way.  I could tell that one of my new sisters was feeling the same way.  Feeling that for myself and as a part of her- and speaking up about it- made it so that everyone was safe in the mountains.  And, if you’ve never done grounding and meditation practices on top of a mountain, while heli skiing in Alaska, with Lynsey and Harlan, I suggest you give it a try.  Oh, and did I mention that we were late getting to the helicopter because there were 7 yellow lab puppies outside of our door?  Mountains, skiing, puppies, friendship… if that’s not caught between heaven and earth, I don’t know what is.

Lynsey was also an amazing role model.  She showed us how to be strong both mentally and physically.  Before our very first run she was there telling us to feel our feet on the ground and to breathe into our toes.  She stood up for her girls when it mattered, and with poise and grace.  She taught us to ski from our vaginas, keep our shoulders pointing down the hill, and that you ski better when you're wearing jeans.  The way that she honestly and openly talks about the sport of skiing and the things in life that make her scared and vulnerable is inspiring and rare.  And, even though we had to wait for her to make 5 trips to do anything… at least the girl can write a mean rap about Alaska.  I’m incredibly grateful that she feels drawn to spreading the lessons of the mountains with others, and I don’t know that I will ever be able to show her just how unique that is.

I don’t suspect that I’ll know how it is that I’ve changed until it comes out of me.  There will be a time and place when I surprise myself and I’ll smile knowing that I had the spirit of this trip with me.  I did set intentions for life post Alaska though; I will seek less validation for my choices, I will challenge the ‘shoulds’, ‘maybes’, and anything that doesn’t have me saying ‘fuck yeah!’ I will continue to follow my sense of adventure (after all- it is what got me here), and I will play the manifest game a lot more J. I won’t ever forget the lessons that I’ve collected on this trip.  I learned how to search with an avalanche beacon, I learned how to let go of the things in life that hold me back, I learned that my intuition matters and I need to speak up when it is telling me something.  I learned that sometimes you need to take a detour on a run to play magical unicorns … and most importantly, I learned that following your own path in life is important, whether it is rocky or smooth, wobbly or stable, it’s yours and that’s what makes it so special. <3

Day 7: Decided To Stay

So it's really late but I wanted to dump out a bunch of stuff before I forget about some of it.  First of all, you may or may not notice that I'm not home right now.  I extended my time here a few days on a gut instinct.  We've been basing a lot of our decisions on what feels right this week and leaving today just did not, so we didn't.

We were talking about the way things work around here and the energy that the trip is bringing and you are doing 1 of 2 things always- you are hurrying up to wait, or you are in total go mode, no stopping to even pee.

Yesterday was the second way.  We woke up knowing it was going to be a great day for skiing.  Lyns had to go with the film crew all day so we didn't have our mama bird with us but it was by far the best day of skiing I've ever had.  We started off with meditation time with our guide Harland, who- by the way, has brought this entire trip to another level (more on that later, and by the way- another one of the guides told me that if he was ever lost in the woods, he would want Harland with him).  Then we dropped into the field for the entire day.  We got about 8 runs on varying terrain, we learned how to dig an avi pit to assess the snow conditions (pic below), and we had to rope our photographer into the beginning of one of our lines.  It was great, I got to see one of my new friends take the line of her life, I got to ski snow over my head, and we really grew together as sisters.  Oh, and I lost a ski.

How?

Well I was following one of the girls who is better at skiing than I am, which is how I like to get better at things, through a chute and I got some 'sluff'.  Meaning the snow under me let loose a little bit and swept me off my feet.  It was far from an avalanche and I was totally fine, my head was never even downslope of my feet, but I knew as soon as it happened that my ski popped off.  It hurt only my pride, and after I assessed myself and the situation I soon realized that my ski could be literally anywhere in a basketball court size area across and up to 5 feet down.  Harland came in above me and tried to find it but it was going to be a pretty lost cause so he called for another guide to come help and he and I tandem skied with me on 1 down to the heli pick up spot.  1-0 Alaska.
After 7 hours in the field we ate well deserved dinner and got home to belly laugh at all the awesome footage of banter we got without Lynsey.

After that the fun just continued.  I got woken up this morning to 'hey wake up, we got called in right now to go skiing'... ummm ok, let me open my eyes a little bit first, but yeah, be right there.
So we showed up to go skiing and jumped into a helicopter with no breakfast or even coffee for a few runs.  Actually we were late to our helicopter pick up because as soon as we left the house we realized that our neighbors had a litter of 7 yellow lab puppies in their front yard.  Heli skiing and puppies.  Did I actually die and go to heaven?  Anyway back to skiing, I was a little freaked out still about losing a ski and how rushed the morning was so not my best run, but with some new found confidence to speak up about how I'm feeling I made everyone pause at the top of our second run for meditation time.  After that I skied great, Harland took a great line over the top of a chute, and we got to watch Lynsey do her thing right after.
That was all the time we had in the field today, but when we got back to the house we got to do a Harland activity.  I'm sure I keep saying this but these spiritual self growth activities that have been peppered in all week have really made this experience incredible.  We had to find another stick, one that spoke to us again, and this time we assigned energy to it for something in our lives that we wanted to hold onto.  The phrase that he used when describing that activity and the stick was that these were our 'prayer arrows' and while we worked out exactly what it was that we were trying to hold onto both through conversation and self reflection, we decorated our sticks with yard and nature and whatever else our hearts desired.
After prayer sticks we chilled around the house a little bit then went for a run down to the beach.  Lyns and I got into some recreation and played magic fairy/unicorns in the woods.  Have I mentioned yet this blog, how special of a person she is?  Not only is she super strong both mentally and physically in the mountains, but she also comes up with some weird shit.  While running we all had to name off 3 things that we desired and had to ask the ocean for our requests.  After running, in the parking lot still, she and I broke into rap and dance for like 10 minutes.  It was magical, and on tape.  After running we all went out for pizza and I felt what it would feel like to have sisters.

Here's a picture of Huck-it Harland digging an avi pit.  If I could figure out how to upload videos to blogs I would upload a bunch- one of which is an amazingggg line that Harland took on our 2nd to last run of the day.  Guess you'll just have to ask me when I get home.

Day 5: Letting Go

Today was a long day..

Yesterday was a down day. We did some interviews, went back to Mud Bay to throw some stones, and did yoga in the most beautiful area.  Our instructor played a harmonium while we practiced in a little fire warmed house right on the beach.  We then headed out to 18 mile for dinner where Lyns opened up about the world of pro skiing.
'If anyone tells you they aren't scared up there- they're lying'
She continued on to describe how it feels to be standing alone at the top of a line and the pressure to nail it.  'Everyone is skiing at the very edge of their ability- of human ability, and that's why we come to Alaska, because it provides the grounds for that.  But it's really all the snow.  If you don't have good snow, you won't have a good run.  Mother nature decides how good of a skier you are going to be that day.'
We then headed home and broke out into song and dance about cereal on the way.  Obvious next step, stop at the one store in Haines, buy Cinnamon Toast Crunch and Lucky Charms, and have a cereal picnic.

Then today got interesting.  We woke up and had stretchy, mobility, meditation time and went up for breakfast.  On the way to breakfast we played Lynsey's manifest game where we had to talk like it was present day a year from now and we were describing everything that we had accomplished.  Once at the house we were put onto what they call a 'fire drill' which means- gear on, ready to go- but sit around.  We traveled half way up the road to our heli pick up spot and parked.  And sat.  And waited.  BUT while we waited we did a spiritual self reflection activity (all of which have been the icing on the top of an already great trip).  We walked along the beach- in our ski gear.. and picked up a stick that called to us.  We then envisioned something in our lives that we needed to let go of and transfered that energy into our stick.  After a second to ourselves to come up with what we needed to let go of we had a share circle about our personal 'let gos', and just the idea of letting go in general.  We talked about values and how to prioritize them and all the 'shoulds' in life and how you need to ask yourself if what you are doing is because you want to.. or because you think that you should.  I also think this transfers to skiing.  Sometimes you just have to let go and let your skis take you where they need to.  That is one of the things I love so much about skiing, is that you have to let go, and only focus on what you are doing as you are doing it- you don't have room for anything else.

After all that we ended up going back to base camp for a dance party, photo shoot, and rides around on something called a razor.  It's basically an all terrain ATV but instead of wheels it travels on 4 tank like paddles.  Unfortunately for us.. we drove through some mud.  And by some, I mean a lot.  And by mud, I mean there was definitely some manure mixed in there.  So we come back from our razor jaunt smelling like shit and peppered in mud and we get the call.  We're going skiing.  So we immediately throw all of our shit back into the van (her name is Spruce) and roll out.  We ended up needing to wait at the heli pad for a little bit but eventually got out into the wilderness.

Again, the entire experience was breath taking.  You could see jagged mountains in all directions and the snow was the deepest, softest, lightest snow I've ever skied.  I was blown away by the entire thing.

More skiing tomorrow.  The sisterhood continues.

Day 3: We Skied Today!

Ok so the days are starting to blend together so I'm officially glad that I'm writing some of this down.

So this morning we woke up and all we knew was the Lynsey was showing up today.. and that was about it.  Things got a little toasty last night and a lot of the crew here participated in an activity called 'drinking it blue'.  Meaning they got so drunk that the weather cleared up.  Credit to that, or credit to Lyndsey showing up but some how we skied today!

We showed up at the 18 mile house for breakfast and there was a different energy in the air.  We could see the tops of the mountains- not something that had happened so far this week, and one of our guides had whispered to me that 'the bird' would be showing up at 11.
After the heli showed up and we got our training on where and where not to stand (avoid the rotor blades) we got the green light to get suited up.  Things were starting to become very real..  everything from there was a blur.  Pants, gloves, helmet, skis, boots, poles, beacon, bag, snacks- get in the van.   We're going to the airport.  Who was at the airport? The woman herself- Lynsey Dyer.  As soon as she showed up it was all dance parties and girl power.  She came in hot though, she immediately threw on her ski pants in the parking lot and kicked a guy out of our group so that she could come along.  The first lift off in the heli was a completely new way of flying, you experience a lot fewer G-forces so there is way more of a floating experience.  We took a quick trip in the heli up into the mountains and I was completely blown away.  The mountains here are not much taller than Vermont but the way they rise, and how steep they are in some spots is so dramatic.  Then in a matter of minutes we were on the mountain top and unloaded.  You don't have enough time to realize all of the things that are happening while they are happening.  You are experiencing anxiety, joy, fear, and excitement all at the same time, and if I've even had the opportunity to practice my present minded thinking this was it.

Lynsey was a rock star on top of the mountain.  Some of the group had started moving down to the first stopping point but I got to hang back and listen to Lyns talk though 'feel your feet in your boots, they are connected to the ground, you are connected to the earth right now, take a deep breath'.
From there it was all powder skiing, turn your shoulders down the mountain, and lead from your vagina.  Our time up there was somewhat short- only 2 runs, but it felt great to get some cobwebs dusted off, and it was incredibly humbling to be skiing the terrain that we were.  After that it was on to more dance parties and delaying our heli because we were snapchatting..

We then got back to 18 mile house, played some frisbee, ate some dinner, and stole some snacks on the way out.  After helping Lynsey clear the energy in the Beverly (our place) it was time to sleep.  Probably a down day tomorrow, yoga and art on the menu.  Pics from the day below: