VIEWPOINTS
Saturday, August 7, 2021
East Oregonian
A5
JOHN
WINTERS
HEALTH CARE ESSENTIALS
‘Transition
is the
hardest
place to be’
T
he gentleman cheerfully
explained why he was selling
his lawn mower. He was 97
years old and no longer able to mow
his own lawn. Losing our abilities and
letting go of what no longer serves our
best interests is hard to do, yet this
fellow seemed to have mastered the art
of a smooth transition. Change is what
happens to us, transition is the internal
response to these events. Researcher
and author William Bridges, Ph.D.,
said, “Every transition begins with
an ending and ends with a begin-
ning. Between the ending and begin-
ning lurks an awkward neutral zone
most want to avoid, but is essential to
personal growth.”
Transition is the hardest place to be.
Liminal space is that space between
where you have been and what comes
next in your life. It is a place of
unknowing, which often involves loss,
letting go, accepting new or different
conditions, and moving on. We want
to skip this part, but it is where we
learn the most.
Transition could be likened to a
slippery log over a rushing mountain
stream that you must cross to reach
the meadow beyond. Barbara King-
solver said, “The changes we dread
most may contain our salvation.”
Our modern lives are full of uncer-
tainty and change ... even the Greek
philosopher Heraclitus noted in 500
BCE, “Everything changes, nothing
stays the same.” Adjusting to ongo-
ing changes with COVID-19, politics,
climate change, wildfires and smoke
takes energy. Then there are personal
concerns like our jobs, health and rela-
tionships. It helps to realize adaptation
takes energy and thought. We want to
reach the meadow, but getting there is
tricky and we have to pay attention.
Our internal workings, brain and
body, crave calm. Life for the body
is easiest when all needs are met and
nothing changes. Wouldn’t that be
nice, at least for a while? Any shifts in
the internal milieu require attention
and adjustment. A new job or relation-
ship, illness or loss of any sort affects
your inner balance. Events, whether
you label them good or bad, occur
daily. Having a child, starting a new
job or losing a loved one all require
adjustments.
Stress can make you stronger, or
sicker. Problems arise when changes
in your life outpace your current
resources and ability to adapt. Our
body is built to withstand just about
anything, but self awareness makes
the job a lot easier. Some stress is vital
to an interesting, adventurous and
productive life, but to get there you
have to cross the bridge of transition.
When challenged, our body and mind
work to recover. Failure to regain
inner balance and peace can result
in anxiety, depression, weight gain,
fatigue, poor sleep and many chronic
diseases.
You can take steps to safely cross
the risky transition zone! Your
thoughts are most important. “Self
talk,” those recordings in your head,
can build you up or tear you down.
Practice thinking rationally, creatively
and constructively. Recall your past
successes and use those skills again.
Choose humor, acceptance, health,
and gratitude over blaming, complain-
ing, denial or worry. Improving phys-
ical health with restful sleep, daily
physical activity, mindful breathing,
relaxation and healthy foods builds
a body strong enough to pull you
through the transition. Connection to
others by sharing or asking for help,
listening and being heard, is helpful.
Remember to take breaks, celebrate
even small successes and have fun!
Kate Berado offers “The 5 R’s of
Change.” Routines: activities, food,
rituals create structure; Reactions to
what others say and do. Take nothing
personally; Roles: gain clarity on your
role; Relationships: choose posi-
tive, stable, satisfying relationships.
Nurture the important relationships;
and Reflection about your values.
What has worked, or not worked, for
you in the past?
Avoiding change and adapting to
change each take energy. The choice
of how to negotiate the inevitable tran-
sitions we all face in our lives is yours.
May you flow well!
———
John Winters is a naturopathic physi-
cian who retired after operating a prac-
tice in La Grande since 1992.
Gifts of vacation and coming home
LINDSAY
MURDOCK
FROM SUNUP TO SUNDOWN
R
ain pelted my bare legs and arms,
along with my face as I walked
down the dusty, gravel road. Doing
my best to navigate the occasional holes of
powdery, soft, sink-when-you-step-into-it
dirt, I trudged forward. Forward toward
home.
The rain speckled my face, making
friends with the freckles that have been
there for years. They were drops of mois-
ture I knew wouldn’t amount to much, and
I wanted to do all I could to soak them into
my dry and weary body the best I could.
I imagined the dusty road and summer
fallow on either side of me were doing the
same, wishing for each drop to multiply
in abundance, to give life to what felt a bit
dead.
Wind whipped my short, sun-kissed hair
in every direction, with clouds of dirt swirl-
ing and beautiful memories from the short
vacation I just returned from keeping my
eyes focused on where I was going. Would
the boys wonder what was keeping me, or
would they know deep down that I needed
the walk in the rain as much as anything
else, to remember and reflect on where I
had just been?
It had only been six days earlier when
the road trip south had begun with the
rising of the sun. The highway from Bend
to Crater Lake is one that is well traveled,
especially during the summer months, and
we had found ourselves travelers on a path
many have taken. RVs, SUVs, small cars
and pickup trucks with license plates from
every corner of the USA filled the parking
lots, the scenic pullouts, and trailheads.
We had entered through the north
entrance of the park, and made our first
stop near Hillman Peak. The crater wasn’t
in view without walking up the small sandy
dune from the parking lot, and my young-
est son and nieces ran ahead, wanting to be
the first to get a glimpse of this magnificent
lake we had been telling them about. They
had listened intently and seemed inter-
ested, but I don’t think they understood the
magnitude of the depth, nor greatness of
size, until it was directly in front of them.
It was absolutely stunning that day, as
if putting on a show just for us. The water
was crystal clear, with every shade of blues
and greens, cobalt, royal and teal, shimmer-
ing the entirety of the distance across, the
reflection of the occasional cloud seem-
ing to pull us into a dream. We hiked on a
few trails, picnicked, and marveled at how
awesome every angle of the volcanic crater
we were getting to experience and observe
was just as breathtaking as the first.
The very next day, our feet carried us
through Stout Grove to the Smith River in
the Redwood Forest. It was quiet there that
day, with only the slightest breeze. The
trees were massive in size, up close and
personal with each step we took. Having
the opportunity to weave through the forest
with humongous trees in every direction
was fascinating.
Our pace was slow and steady, unhur-
ried in every sort of way as we walked and
gawked at their beauty, their size, and the
stories they held. How many years have
people been taking the same steps, balanc-
ing on the same stumps, and holding their
arms out wide to measure the enormity and
greatness of the world they’ve found them-
selves in? Standing in the grove of trees
was breathtaking, and a memory I will hold
deep within me for years to come.
I looked up and out, focusing not only on
the height, but wondering about the depths
of the roots that held the giants in place.
Growing slow and steady is worth follow-
ing their lead if we want to live a life that is
quietly awesome and hugely graceful.
The wind changed direction and my foot
caught the edge of soft, sinking dirt on the
gravel road where not one tree can be found
nor any large amount of crystal-clear water.
Spits of rain continued to fall as I real-
ized the 2 miles I had walked had brought
me back to the intersection in front of our
house.
The memories of Crater Lake and Stout
Grove held me upright as I looked down.
My shoes were covered with dust, the dogs
were running circles around me, and the
60 calves we had just weaned were bawl-
ing uncontrollably in the pen next to me. I
laughed out loud about the chaos erupting
in spite of my daydreaming. How does one
prepare their heart to leave one season and
enter the next?
My best guess is this: By soaking up that
which makes us stronger, letting our roots
run deep every chance we get, looking
forward at what’s to come, but also reflect-
ing on where we have been, appreciating
time, and stepping ahead to the edge of
craters and around the largest of obstacles
with trust in the unknown future. The two
national parks I had found myself in this
summer grew me and grounded me.
They slowed me down, and left me
awestruck. I can only hope that some of
what they gave me rubs off on others in the
season to come.
———
Lindsay Murdock lives and teaches in
Echo.
Future leaders cultivated at county fairs
CHRIS
NOVAK
OTHER VIEWS
C
ounty fair season has arrived in
Oregon. This month, generations
will come together to celebrate the
hard work of those involved in programs
like 4-H and FFA.
I was once one of those young people
whose life was changed by FFA. As we
begin our annual celebration of agriculture’s
next generation, I want to recognize FFA’s
work and the young leaders it has mentored
and changed.
I grew up on a small farm in Iowa that
belonged to my grandfather and then my
father. I learned at an early age the impor-
tance of hard work and the responsibility
that comes with caring for animals and the
land.
While my career aspirations never
included coming back to the farm, with
the love of agriculture that my father had
instilled, I didn’t have to be convinced to
join FFA when my high school’s vocational
agriculture instructor stopped at the farm
one summer day.
“I believe in the future of agriculture,
with a faith born not of words, but of deeds
...”
More than 40 years have passed since
my instructor made us memorize the FFA
Creed during our freshman year in high
school, but the words still ring true as an
inspiration to those of us who wore the blue
and gold jackets.
The creed is about learning the history of
agriculture, learning the values that we all
shared, and glimpsing a vision of a future
agricultural system that we could help
shape. These are still relevant in my world
today.
FFA provides a glimpse of the future that
motivates you to try new things, take on
new challenges, and succeed in ways that
you could not have imagined.
Our chapter frequently hosted state and
national FFA officers. To meet these fellow
students — who were confident, articulate,
and shared a passion for agriculture — was
an inspiration.
So you set your goals, worked, and
learned how to handle success and defeat.
Once I got the chance to serve as a state FFA
officer, l learned what it was like to work as
a team — to share ideas, compromise, and
work in service of others.
I didn’t return to the farm, but thanks to
FFA I have enjoyed a career in service to
agriculture. Today, serving CropLife Amer-
ica, I feel that I am still pursuing FFA’s
creed’s vision of “better days through better
ways.”
As agriculture technology continues to
be challenged, I believe it is imperative that
all of us speak with passion about the public
interest we serve. Just as I learned in FFA,
we must continue to work as a team to share
ideas, find solutions, and continue working
in the service of others.
FFA is dedicated to education, provid-
ing learning opportunities in the classroom,
supervised experiences, and developing
leadership skills that help drive personal
growth. All of these learning opportunities
work together to provide a well-rounded
education to our young leaders.
It is during this key time on the farm that
we should be grateful, as a nation, for what
FFA provides in shaping the face of Amer-
ican agriculture and the next generation of
teachers, lawyers, scientists and problems
solvers.
———
Chris Novak is president and CEO of
CropLife America.