33°45′18″N 84°23′24″WThe Equinox is the symbol of balance. Equality of light and dark, day and night. 

As winter approaches the days will get shorter as the nights get longer and longer. Call me strange (I don't mind – and agree with you!) but I think a lot about how the planet was "designed" and how that design influences us. 

I moved from Atlanta, located at 33°45′18″N 84°23′24″W to Aspen, whose coordinates are 39°10′54″N 106°50′26″W.  So I'm now living somewhere that's 6 degrees higher in latitude than Atlanta. Doesn't seem like much. But when I first moved here, the days were over two hours longer in the summer. Which means that the reverse will be true in the winter. Longer nights, which would make it colder to begin with, but when you add the influence of the curvature of the Earth to make it six degrees of separation (sorry I couldn't resist) it makes a pretty signficant difference in temperature. My hometown, Lexington, Kentucky is 5 degrees higher in latitude than Atlanta, and it was usually about 10 degrees cooler year-round. Of course, in Aspen you have to account for the 7000 feet rise in elevation. So it's coooolder here – for a lot of reasons. 

But, thankfully, there are two other factors that help. First, the weather is "drier," which makes the cold not affect you as much. And secondly, we're closer to the sun, so the sun's rays are warmer. 

So how can I take this science and turn it into philosophy – if not spirituality?  Well, you know me…

If the Earth didn't have a tilted axis, then there would be no summer or winter seasonal shift. The length of days would be the same all year long. The scary thing is that the axis is changing – and we're the ones changing it.  

To learn how we humans, who are responsible for Climate Change, are influencing the Earth's axis, click here:

http://www.natureworldnews.com/articles/20648/20160411/climate-change-causes-the-earth-axis-to-shift.htm 

I know quite a few people didn't think I would take the plunge. Uproot my life. Get rid of just about everything I owned. And move somewhere I didn't know a soul. 

Maybe they should have listentened to the ringtone on my phone. Mark Ronson and Bruno Mars' "Uptown Funk." 

Don't believe me? Just watch.

How often do we defy others' expectations? Go against the grain? Do something against the pattern we expect of ourselves? 

Aspen's motto is "Defy Ordinary." 

When I first saw that tagline, my response was, "Well, duh." There's no much "ordinary" about Aspen! In fact, you might remember my post with the prayer requesting that I never become complacent about the beauty here. That I never see it as "ordinary." Or even remotely comparable to "ordinary." 

The "Defy" part, though – really speaks to me today. 

I resisted and refused to obey the patterns I'd established, even it was nearly impossible. 

And I certainly challenged myself to prove something. 

Don't believe me?

Just watch. 

Yesterday's post was about "you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone." Today I'm talking about how our perceptions can delude us. 

I was on a familiar walk to the hospital/doctor's office to get my blood levels checked and saw another paraglider as I crossed the bridge. While I've seen them before, this was by far the closest vision I'd had. I felt like I could wave and the pilot could see me! Or perhaps land on top of me. So close! 

Yet then the pictures come back and he's just a little spec in the sky. Yes, I could have zoomed in to make the image bigger, but that wasn't the point. The point is, as our rear-view mirrors suggest, "Objects are closer than they appear." 

It's true with our perspective of our life, too. Some things (and issues) seem much bigger than they really are. We "blow them out of proportion," in much the same way as I thought about the parasailer. Optical illusions turn into psychological illusions, maximizing size and importance. 

The perfect song (which came on my MP3 player just minutes later) sums it up… 

"You may find yourself living in a shotgun shack. You may find yourself in another part of the world…"

And the version from the classic movie "Down and Out in Beverly Hills"

"They paved paradise and put up a parking lot."

"Be careful what you ask for" is a common theme in my life. 

When I first moved in here, this tree annoyed me. It blocked my view of the beautiful mountain! How dare it!

You can even see in this picture I took on July 4 how the tree is in the way. It bummed me out!

But then as time moved on, I started noticing the way the light reflected off this tree. Something really special and magical. 

Yet yesterday morning I woke up to hear the sound of tree-cutters taking down this tree. And I felt responsible somehow. Like maybe my energy (prayer?) of lamenting its existence caused its demise. 

So – what's the lesson? First, to look at the things that rub you, annoy you, bother you, and see if maybe there's something beautiful there, too. Secondly, to be careful with your intentions and desires. And third, to appreciate the now. What you have before it's gone. 

Expecting life to be perfect is like expecting people to be perfect. Either your expectations are too low or your perceptions are too high. 

"Why could having too high perceptions be bad, Brownell?" you might ask. You might also add, "Isn't that the way you see Aspen?"

"Good one," I'd reply. 

To quote one of my favorite groups, (Counting Crows) "You put your girl up on a pedestal, then you wait for her to fall." What I mean by this, is that when your perceptions are too high you're inevitably disappointed when reality creeps in. It's a form of delusion. 

As an entrepreneurial/creative type, so many people share motivational quotes with you that say things like "It's always darkest before the dawn" or "when things are at their worst, it's a sign you're ready for a breakthrough." 

But sometimes you need to know "when to fold 'em." When you need to focus your efforts in another direction. 

I'm not there – yet. But I am open to reconsidering options. And I think we all should stay alert to the choices we have. 

The change of seasons, symbolized by this beautiful, evolving Aspen leaf, offers a variety of symbolic messages. 

I've never lived in a climate where the seasons don't change, and I'm not sure I'd want to. I'd get bored with the same-old same-old. The same, predictable wardrobe choices all year. The same weather for Independence Day as for Christmas Day. 

No matter where you live, you're likely to look forward to at least one seasonal shift. From winter to spring or summer to fall. Or, in Aspen, from fall to winter. 

Here, the seasons are even more pronounced. Compared to Atlanta, the summer days nearest the solstice are more than an hour longer. (I can't imagine living in Alaska or somewhere further north with endless daylight at that time of year). Of course, the converse is true in the winter, with not only colder nights, but longer ones as well. 

Another big difference (and one of my favorites) in Aspen is the shift in people and population. Some people come here just for the summer. They're here to enjoy the spectacular weather and to participate in the variety of exceptional events, from Ideas Festival to the Music Festival, and a host of other events held every day. 

Fall is when it quiets down and the population returns to its average of 6500 or so people. You start to see the same faces and recognize the locals. The panorama shifts from green to gold, the leaves start to drop along with the temperatures. 

Winter looms, and not just in the cooler breezes or near-freezing temperatures a thousand or more feet above, ready to drop some snow on the topmost peaks. There's also preparation for the height of the season. Roads are being repaired and construction is accelerated. For many of the local businesses, they're planning to take some needed vacation time before their make-or-break season begins. 

Winter brings the tourists, changing the dynamic even more. While I haven't lived here in the winter, I can imagine the median age will decline at an inverse rate to the increase in income and spending. For me, I'm more looking forward to (hopefully) being able to shift my exercise routine from walking to skiing.  

And now, some tunes…

My father's favorite song – a nice reminder of the changes of the season…

My plans for today changed. I was scheduled to have the heart procedure that would determine whether I could stay here in Aspen, but the doctor suggested waiting a couple of weeks (due to my thryroid blood test results). 

What do you do when plans change? How do you handle disruptions you can't control? Do you just go with the flow? Or does it take a while for you to adjust? 

When searching for quotes relevant to the topic of "Plans," you see a plethora of "if you fail to plan, you plan to fail" type messages. Motivational statements to get you to set a direction and focus toward achieving that goal. 

But not all goals and plans are in your control.

And that's a good thing. 

Yes, I'd like to have had this procedure behind me so I could know what I was going to do; whether I'd have to move or not. But I also trust my doctor – not to mention the "big guy (or girl) upstairs" to choose the best timing for the best outcome. Even if the "best outcome" isn't one I'd choose for myself. 

The title of this post is a double-entendre, indicating both my visiting friends' perspective of Aspen and my heart procedure planned for tomorrow. The parallels are quite obvious. You start out with a heart that's "off" somehow. Not quite balanced with life. Too much work and not enough play perhaps. Or too much "city life" and not enough time out in nature. And then something happens.

A shock to your system. An awakening. A new rhythm. 

You look at life in a different way. Feel things you haven't felt before. 

In many ways, tomorrow's procedure could produce a new lease on life. (Or as Rowlf the dog from the Muppets would say, "a new leash on life."  )  I think my friends are starting to feel the same way. And, thanks to their visit and fresh perspective, I am graced with the gift of seeing this incredible place through their eyes, from the brilliant architectural techniques used to the ecologically-focused nuances I might have missed.  

Now – we dance. Make sure you feel the rhythm: 

And another "double entendre" – referring to the altitude, of course! And listen for the "rhythm!" 

And one of my favorite Muppets moments…

Sometimes you have to roll the dice and go for it. As they say, it's only courage if you're unsure of the outcome and you go for it anyway. Right? 

With my uncertain heart health looming, I might not be able to stay here. Yet as fate would have it (and if you know me, I believe fate isn't random but instead influenced by a higher power), I stumbled on an article in the Aspen Times yesterday that it was the last day to buy season tickets for skiing at a discount. If I waited, I'd have to pay hundreds of dollars more. 

Yet at $1800 for a season pass, what if I won't be able to ski? 

Decisions, decisions.