Lessons at the Full Moon

Highest ridge of the Kelso Dunes, Mojave National Preserve, San Bernardino Co., California, USA.  Night hiking without a light; full moon bright as dawn.
12 April 2006.

We all have lessons to learn.

In some cases, years pass between the time a lesson is given and the time it is taken to heart.

The spring this photo was taken, lessons in the following presented themselves to me:

- How sharing yourself can be wise, and how holding back can sometimes be wiser.
- How self-possession can bring people near to you, and how neediness can drive them away.
- How happiness comes when you embrace life, and how sadness stays when you sit on its sidelines.
- How Nature can make you whole, and how Modern Living can take you apart.

Only in the intervening years did these lessons sink in, reiterated by new teachers.
For each of the lessons, I am grateful.

To the author of that first springtime primer, I say, “Thank you.”

The older I get, the longer the list of people to which I owe such thanks.

Almost all of them: the folks who made me uncomfortable, the folks who questioned me, the folks who – wittingly or unwittingly – challenged me to take a hard look at myself, my actions, and my true motives: the way I really was rather than the way I thought I was.

The folks who took my cherished and carefully protected view of myself and tested it for verity.

Always, these people are our best teachers.  And to them, we become grateful.

In due time, of course.  In due time.

* * *
Enjoy the full moon tonight, everyone.


In Memoriam: GK on the Dunes

Kelso Dunes, Mojave National Preserve, San Bernardino Co., California, USA
12 April 2006

My family had four parental cornerstones.

This man, my stepfather, was one of them.

He was not a perfect man, but he sure came close.  He was the kind of person who made the world a good place to be.  He grew up a farm kid and possessed the work ethic, sensibility, and useful practical skills that type of upbringing often confers.  He was patient.  He was kind.  He was forgiving of mistakes.  He gave others the benefit of the doubt.  He trusted.  He was curious.  He was smart.  He was generous with his time and talent, volunteering them wherever they were needed.  He was modest.  He listened.  He was more interested in hearing about your thoughts than he was in telling you all about his own.  He made people feel good about themselves and the work that they were doing.  He loved his family, home life, woodworking, blacksmithing, the sound of old country tunes, the making of bluegrass music, Lewis and Clark, red wine, and good cigars.

He also loved motorcycles (a common devotion in my family).  He was the most careful rider I’ve ever known — no traffic law was too small to follow to the letter.

Seven months after this photo was taken, riding home on a bright autumn afternoon, he was killed on the highway on his Harley by a teenage driver who, distracted by friends in the cabin, did not look for traffic before pulling his truck out onto the road.

This photo of my stepdad on the dunes, pointing into the light — taken four years ago today, on the one trip he and my mom could make to visit me in the Mojave — appeared on the cover of the program for his memorial service.

When you are driving, please, don’t text.  It is more dangerous, even, than driving drunk.
Please, don’t talk on the phone.
Please, don’t watch movies or television.
Please, don’t goof with your passengers.

Please, pay attention.
Please, be mindful.
Please, be alert to your surroundings.
Please, watch for motorcycles.

If you feel so inclined, check out the website of It Involves You, the foundation whose motorcycle awareness campaign we extended to our hometown with my stepfather’s memorial fund.

And, if it appeals, consider becoming a fan of one of the motorcycle awareness groups on Facebook.  I am partial to this one, Share the Road with Motorcycles, founded by my stepbrother.

Springtime is prime motorcycle weather.  Keep your eyes open, and be safe out there, everybody!


Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 41 other followers