Since I've moved here, I've had a lot of encounters with Humility.  Like hiking next to a 79-year-old woman with a slipped disc who is fitter and faster than I am! Or behind another older man who trudges up the mountain without a break, while I need to stop from time to time to catch my breath – and he still beats me.

The first week I was here, I could excuse myself for not being acclimated to the altitude. But now I have to fight from beating myself up.

Or, I should say, from beating my "body" up. It's "she" who isn't fill-in-the-blank. Strong enough. Determined enough. Healthy enough. Good enough. 

How sad it is that we (I) do this to ourselves. Instead of celebrating that I can even do this fairly challenging hike, considering that at the beginning of the year I was so infirm from the Costco tuna poisoning I could barely walk up stairs, I compare myself – my body – to someone else's. 

Yet so many of us do that all the time.

So – what is humility? At first it sounds good, like something everyone should aspire to.  But when you look at the definition and synonyms, maybe it's not so good. "A modest or low view of one's own importance." Meekness? Submissiveness? Unassertiveness? 

Certainly some people could benefit from a dose of humility. Those who seem to have an air of superiority, who think they're better than anyone else. (I'll refrain from a political statement, but those of you who know me, know who I'm talking about.) The narcissists who are so in love with their own reflection they not only think everything they do is "great," they often have a need to put others down to maintain their own self-assigned position on the pedestal. 

But what about the rest of us? Those who have concerns with "not being good enough?" As someone who's become somewhat of an expert in "failure," which is basically an endless submersion in humility, I might not need a boost of self-esteem exactly, but perhaps a little encouragement. 

So I turn to music…

And here's some emerging talent:

Flow. 

Both a verb and a noun. 

As a creative person, the most precious gift is when you experience the opening that allows the ideas to flow.  

When these portals are blocked, you fear they'll never open again. But when they do (and thankfully they do – eventually), it's simply magical. 

In addition to this blog and a few other things, I'm working on a writing project. One that's both a challenge and opportunity. Just enough to create that "fear" I wrote about a few days ago. Excitement wrapped in uncertainty. Yep.  

In Aspen, there are rivers and streams everywhere. Even in my own back yard! So flow as a metaphor is everywhere. 

And now – a relevant song:

The lyrics in "Rainy Night in Georgia" suggest "it feels like it's raining all over the world." I could relate to that feeling. 

Then. Now in Aspen it actually feels the opposite. It feels like it's only raining here. I guess that's how it feels when you're anywhere that's isolated. Being surrounded by mountains and looking up into the sky, you see rain from a different perspective. You see clouds hanging on hilltops, nearly obscuring the view of the peaks. You also feel cocooned, blanketed and protected. 

And even though the only relevant reference is the use of "rain" in the title, here's one of my favorite songs (music and lyrics) by one of my favorite bands: The Counting Crows:

The last few times I've been out hiking, I've been singing along to show tunes. Or at least as much singing as I can do when I'm trying to catch my breath! 

If you've followed this blog, you know how important music is to me. All kinds of music. Including show tunes. 

While the hikers around me might not agree, I enjoy singing to everything from "Hamilton" to "The Book of Mormon" and even "Chicago," "Little Shop of Horrors" and "Rocky Horror Picture Show." 

Whatever makes your heart sing – go for it! 

Pop Quiz: What show tune does this image make you think of? 

And now – Some motivation to SING:

And some favorite Show Tunes:

Yesterday's post was about perspective. Today I'm talking about fear. 

Both topics are closely related, because fear is one of those emotions that is based in "time." 

In the same way that anger and resentment keep you anchored to the past, worry and fear are projections toward the future. 

Some people say that worrying doesn't solve anything. It just prevents you from enjoying the present moment. And to a certain degree I agree. But it can be a valuable emotion. A wake-up call to pay attention. To plan. To evaluate the options. To look before you leap. 

I'm currently in a slight state of fear about investing time and/or money on a new project I'm working on. Of, like the quote above (that came from me and my writing) suggests, feeling excitement wrapped in uncertainty. Will this venture be another trip to failure town? Another "learning experience?" Another opportunity to find out what doesn't work – instead of what does? 

Fear can be a paralyzer; stopping you from taking action. Or it can be a motivator; an impetus to take the leap. 

Fear is not a common emotion for me. I made this move with little trepidation. My only concerns were minor, like "will I be able to fit everything I want to take in my car? and "will this person come through with their promise to help me?" Not, "Will I be lonely or homesick?" "Will I regret the move?" 

This new "fear" is different. A combination of "Am I going to repeat the same failure patterns of the past?" with "How can I break the pattern" and "Will I be able to do this?" mixed in with "Is it possible that this move itself has broken the pattern and is now opening up opportunities that I might not have had if I'd stayed in the same place?"  

The quote to the right is from one of my books, and a good reminder for me to myself. When I'm afraid, I need to ask, "Who – or what – do I trust?" 

They say it always helps to "get a little perspective." 

I went exploring, looking for a new hiking adventure, and walked/hiked from the Tiehack lift near Buttermilk to the Aspen Highlands resort. In truth, it's not a very far distance and the terrain is generally flat. But from here it looks monumental. 

It's true about a lot of things in life. When you have the opportunity to see life from a new point of view.  

As someone who is passionate about innovation, perhaps one of the most important aspects of creativity is the ability to shift perspective. In one of my favorite books, The Five Faces of Genius by Annette Moser-Wellman  talks about "the fool" which is bascially looking at a situation from upside down, or inside-out.  

Moving to a new place is an obvious way of changing your view – quite literally by looking out the window. So can driving a new path to work (which experts say can help keep your brain alive), learning a new skill or meeting someone new. 

This quote from the movie "Shall we Dance?" suggests the value of having a partner to have a "witness to our lives."

I suggest you can get the same thing through your friends and family – old and new. 

Mountain Fair

Sunday I went to the Colorado Mountain Fair in Carbondale, Colorado (about 25 miles from Aspen). I'm so grateful to my friend who suggested the outing! 

In my former home, Atlanta, I went to my share of Arts and Dogwood Festivals which had a similar lineup. Artists and crasftspeople displaying a wide variety of talents. It's such fun to see 

So what made the Colorado Mountain Fair different? Quite a few things. The food, for one. I tried something new to me – Pupusas which originate from El Salvador. Yum! Remember what I said about loving Diversity? Here's a link to learn more about this yummy treat.  Now I have to figure out how to make it myself. 

I also loved the diversity of people. Different from Atlanta in a lot of ways, yet still quite varied, especially when comparing it to the Arts Festival in Aspen the weekend before. Sometimes you stand in a crowd and just revel at it's myriad of faces and ages and backgrounds. 

I also had a "flashback" to childhood by trying out Betty Hoops updated version of the classic hula-hoop. It was really fun! Before I could get one, I had to make sure my new, tiny place would have room for me. But now that it did – expect another post about it!  

And, of course, one of the most striking differences were the majestic mountains in around us. I'm still in awe. 

And now some music…

The classic – and a beautiful (and unique) cover: