Remember the Alternative!

A few years ago, I sat down with a glass of wine, put my feet up on the ottoman, and picked up my book. I flipped open to the dog-eared page and started to read. After a few minutes, I laid down my book and said,“You know, I just cannot get into this book. It seems a lot like the last one I read. They are so similar I keep getting the characters all mixed up.” My husband raised his eyebrows and replied, “Corrie, that IS the last book you read, YOUR book is over there – I am reading that one now.”

If you are aging, you can probably relate. It gets worse…

Another time my husband and I were sitting by the pool playing Anagrams, and he put down the word lacey.  “Hey, that was my last name from my first marriage, I said. "Or maybe that was the street I lived on… I cannot remember." 

But if Lacey was the street I lived on, then what the heck was my last name? Oh well, it doesn’t matter. I try to forget about that marriage anyway.

On yet another occassion while my husband and I were travelling, one night I went to the resort office to sign out some DVDs. I picked out a couple of romantic comedies and when I got home, my hubby looked through them and said, “Corrie, we watched this one three days ago!” I looked at the cover, read the back panel, and said, “Seriously? I have no recollection whatsoever of having viewed this movie.”

Forgetting things is normal as we age, but I wanted to be certain that my memory issues were not the sign of something more sinister, so I signed up for an Alzheimer’s clinical trial. Before being accepted into the drug trial, they do DNA testing on you to see if you have the genetic predisposition, so this was a free way to get the very expensive genetic testing done. I did not have the gene, so I withdrew from the trial, satisfied in the knowledge that I was no more likely to get Altzheimer's than the next guy. 

 I also recently saw a neurologist to follow up on a small brain tumour that was discovered last fall. He said, “Corrie, for a 62-year-old woman, you have a pristine brain.” (The tumour was apparently a non issue - something he said I have likely has since birth.) 

Woohoo! A pristine brain...so what explains my propensity to putting clothes on backwards? One time I put my one-piece bathing suit on backwards and stood there in front of the mirror wondering why my boobs kept falling out!

The truth is aging sucks – but as I am constantly telling myself and those around me – the alternative to getting old is getting dead. We can look at the goofy and annoying things that start happening to us as we age, and giggle, or we can be humiliated and complain. I choose to embrace my aging, and all it's humiliating nuances because aging is a privelege many do not get to experience. 

By the way, I eventually remembered my old last name…it was not Lacey – Lacey was the street I lived on. My last name was Lindsay. Or was it Lindsey? 

I can’t remember.

Genius or too many martinis?

I had a sleep study done many years ago. It showed that I had more than triple the normal amount of sleep awakenings. The average person, depending on age, will wake up 80 to 130 times a night. This is normal, and for the most part, most people do not really notice it. They roll over, scratch their heads, adjust their pillows, and carry on sleeping. Others, like me, hover in a no man’s land of sleep and thought – often unable to tell what is dreaming and what is thinking.

The sleep therapist told me that it is very common for highly intelligent people to have an above average number of awakenings. He asked me, already knowing the answer, “Do you solve problems in your sleep, often waking up to the answer?” Of course, the answer was yes – it happens all the time. I used to design house renovations in my sleep, solve riddles, and invent recipes. (Too bad I couldn't figure out how to save my marriage while getting my beauty sleep!) These days, I do not seem to have too many problems to solve – so my hundreds of awakenings each night just merge into one big AWAKE!

When I had small kids and a career, I used to fight insomnia; unsuccessful at willing myself back to sleep, I would work myself into a bad case of sleep anxiety. The more I worried about not being able to sleep, the harder it was to get back to sleep. 

The beauty of retirement is that now, instead of fighting it, I can embrace it.

There is something empowering about being awake in the middle of the night when the rest of the world sleeps. Right now, for instance, it is 2:36 a.m. I am enjoying a cup of herbal tea while listening to the howling of the wind. An atmospheric river hit the Oregon coast about two hours ago and with the rain there are some very strong wind gusts. The hotel I am in is whistling and howling as the fast-moving air finds cracks and corridors to blow through. It is eerie and ominous. Before getting up, I listened to a very interesting audio book by an American journalist. I then ate a bowl of cereal, figured out where to go hiking tomorrow, and am now writing my blog.

 How many times have I said, “If only there were more hours in the day?” Well….

The normal number of nighttime awakenings naturally increases as we age. Sore joints, having to pee, restless legs, snoring, etc., all play a role in affecting how well and how long we slumber. I no longer have a partner to snort beside me, but man can some scary noise come out of my mouth - I sound like a generator! (It is probably a good thing I now sleep alone… with the eye patches to block out light, the nose strips to help me breath, and splayed position to open up my hips, and the turkey sandwich beside the bed…I am not exactly a thing of desire.)

I recently started growing a medicinal garden and one of the tinctures I make is a wonderful treatment for insomnia. I have given it to a few friends, who then phoned me after using it and said, "OMG, I need more of this stuff!" I started feeling like a drug dealer, and decided I better do a little more reseach on the herb I was using to make sure I was not getting my friends addicted.

Prickly lettuce/Sow thistle secretes a milky white substance which contains lactucarium and hyoscyamine, among other things. It has been used for centuries as a nervine. Much like the drug gabapentin it is a gamma aminobutryic acid (GABA) analogue. GABA reduces the excitability of neurons in the brain. This can have a sedative and analgesic effect. And it is not addictive. (Phew)!

Ideally, getting better sleep without the use of substances (natural or otherwise) is preferred. Doctors will tell you the greatest cause of poor sleep is poor sleep hygiene. That is, too much stimulation before bed, too much screen time before bed, and too much alcohol.

So, if you struggle to stay asleep, try eliminating Netflix and martinis before assuming you are a genius.

Pet Sitting - a Two Star Strategy

This summer as I was interviewing pet sitters for my own home, it occurred to me that maybe I should do the same thing – house and pet sit my way down the west coast – thus saving money on accommodations, with the bonus of having some company on the trails and a warm body to snuggle with at night. So, I applied for some house-sitting opportunities and almost everyone I applied for I got. Lucky me! So, while someone is at my house feeding the chickens and snuggling with my cats, I am doing the same during my travels. I just completed my second pet sitting gig – in Kent, Washington – a suburb of Seattle. 

People often ask me how it is I manage to travel so much – and this is one of the ways. Normally I rent out my house for the winter and the rent coming in basically pays my accommodations while travelling, but house-sitting works too – either way, I limit the money going out.

My first sit was in Bellingham – three dogs – not particularly well trained – so my ability to mushroom forage on walks was nil. It was all I could do to keep my shoulders in their sockets! My second pet sit was awesome. Gurney – a full-sized schnauzer who has been very well trained-was a pleasure to mushroom hunt with. His owner is currently working on scent training with him. He can find hidden vials of clove oil. While that may not seem very useful, next year they start working on Truffles!

Gurney and I covered about 15 kms a day and I found baskets of delicious mushrooms – and so far, no bear encounters 😉I am not too worried about bears – it is the creepy people lurking in the forest I worry about. My first hike in Bellingham was at the popular Whatcom Falls – an urban forest in town. It was beautiful – except for the crazy lady who followed me, shouting and mumbling at me the whole time.

Speaking of urban forest – yesterday I hiked 17 km in Auburn’s University campus forest and never came close to doing all the trails. It was spectacular! Old growth Douglas fir, Maple and Cedar. I love foraging in these types of settings as they are generally ignored by professional pickers, and I always find lots of mushrooms. Additionally, I never have to worry about getting lost.

I have the next two days off before starting my next sit in Bremerton, WA, so today I am meeting up with a girl I grew up with. Her mother and my mother were best friends for many years, and so Sherry and I spent a lot of time together as youngsters, and although they moved away for a time, they returned some years later and Sherry and I went to high school together. The last time I saw here was in our early twenties – so this should be fun.

Tomorrow, I plan on doing some wine tasting on Bainbridge Island and then I will watch the US election coverage from a cozy, overpriced hotel (I am shocked at the price of accommodations in this area). It is unlikely there will be final results tomorrow as it is sure to be a nail biter. I worry about where this country is headed and agonize over how my own country is becoming equally polarized. I know if we would just take a moment to step outside our own spere of opinion where we are daily inculcated in confirmation bias – that is, we seek out information that supports that which we already believe – and step into the shoes of those other we disparage – I know we could find shared values.

Here's to hoping Americans choose unity over division, peace over chaos.

Grounded

I recently watched a documentary on Amazon Prime about Earthing - also commonly called grounding. It is about the old and emerging science on how electrical charges in our body are released when we ground ourselves by touching a tree, swimming in the ocean, or walking barefoot on the grass or beach.

Apparently, when we touch the earth, we transfer free electrons from the planet to our bodies which neutralizes free radicals. Studies have shown grounding has been linked to reduced inflammation, improved sleep, less pain, and many other health benefits in the body. 

Inflammation is a normal response of the body to injury. However, in chronic inflammation, the response begins without injury. It can be caused by stress, obesity, environmental factors, and as in my case, an autoimmune disease. Over time, chroinic inflammation can cause DNA damage and lead to heart attacks and even cancer, so the idea that touching a tree can reduce inflammation is very appealing to me. I love trees. Trees make me happy. Besides, it is way easier on the tummy than antiinflammatories and steroids!

The whole earthing thing makes sense to me. I think it must be why I am always "healthy" when I travel in the winter, and why if I stay home, I struggle with disease flares. At home in the winter, I am not out touching trees or walking barefoot on the beach. So, as I have done the past three years, I am tree-hugging and moss crawling my way down the west coast in search of edible and medicinal mushrooms. 

And what a banner mushroom year it is proving to be so far! I have found Lobster mushrooms, chanterelles, admiral boletes, fat jacks, sweetbread fungi, edible coral, shrimp russula, shaggy manes, parasol mushrooms, wine-coloured agaricus, and several edible jelly fungi.

I have only been at it one week and have found more edible varieties of fungi than I did all of last season! I am eating chanterelles for breakfast, Lobster mushroom bisque for lunch, and bolete wine sauce on chicken for supper. and all the while when I am out there crawling around in the moss, I am healing myself!

Today I am leaving the area near Mount Baker where I have been the past week and am headed to the coast for the next couple of weeks. I may pop back into Canada for a few days to visit a friend in Pitt Meadows, and I hope to revisit some of the areas where I foraged last year in the Blaine and Bellingham areas. Following that I will be in the Seattle area for a couple weeks, then on to Seaside Oregon, Portland, Springfield, and Sacramento. All the while, foraging my way through local parks, forests, and backyards. 

I hope you will come along for the journey either by reading my blog or watching my one minute forest walks posted on facebook. And the next time you are feeling crappy, suffering from pain, or not sleeping well, might I recommend you head out and hug some trees?

Hanging On

Since arriving in Uluwatu I have had the privilege of meeting a couple of very nice ladies: Taryn from California, and Mette from Denmark. It is funny how fate brings people together. Although the three of us are from different countries, are different ages, and have very different backgrounds, in many ways, the three of us find ourselves in a similar place in life as we each seek to be our best selves and strive to live a life with purpose.

Last night we walked to the end of the street where people go to the edge of the cliff to watch the sun set. We arrived there early, beer in hand, and enjoyed the view while chatting.

It was very windy, and it would still be a while before the sun sunk behind the horizon, so we squatted on the ground and chatted.

The wind blew and blew and before long we were being sandblasted as the dirt was whipped up by the wind and tossed in our faces. We could barely open our eyes. But still we sat, waiting for the sun to set. Miserable, skin stinging, hair in knots.

All afternoon the three of us had been chatting and so we were not at all surprised to find out we had many things in common. As we sat chatting, dirt in our mouths, we talked about our shared desire to walk the Camino. I told a story about a post I had recently read, posted by a woman walking the Camino. She mentioned how she had insisted on carrying her pack, despite ongoing pain, because somehow, she felt she wasn’t a good pilgrim if she sent it ahead by taxi. She was unrelenting in holding on to her vision of what walking the Camino meant. Eventually, she gave up, sent the bag ahead, and realized that the lesson she needed to learn was how to let go of things. Like her vision of the perfect pilgrim, she realized she was hanging on to so much in her life.

At that point in the story Taryn piped up and said, “You mean she hung on like we are hanging on to watch the perfect sunset?” At that point the three of us burst into peals of laughter because here we had sat for over an hour on the hard ground, bugs biting our butts, the hurricane force winds sandblasting our faces – all because we needed to see the sunset in this most perfect of places! Except it wasn’t perfect at all – it was miserable!

So, we got up, still laughing, and headed home with only minutes to sunset, leaving behind our expectations and a pinkening sky, relishing in new friendship and the healing power of a good chuckle.

Nusa Dua

Today the skies opened, and the rain came – finally! I spoke with a woman online yesterday who told me she has been coming to Bali for 40 years, and the past two weeks were the most humid and unbearable she has ever experienced. I am glad I am not the only person who found it intolerable. With the rain the temperature has dropped significantly and so for the first time in 2.5 weeks I am feeling comfortable.

In my last blog I commented on how I might not have chosen to stay in Nusa Dua this week had I known it was gated and nothing but big resorts. It turns out however, that my hotel is not located inside the gates, so I could continue to wander the streets and experience everyday life in Bali…the thing is, every where I have been has basically been the same (notwithstanding certain geographic location differences): every street has bad sidewalks that are lined with massage shops, tattoo shops, restaurants, clothing shops selling sarongs, and booths selling activities and tours. Oh, and lots and lots of temples (but trust me when I say they all start looking alike after a while) and lots and lots of taxis.

Some might say that what I describe is not the “authentic” Bali – but what exactly does that mean? Servicing the tourism industry IS what most Balinese do. This IS their reality; therefore, it IS authentic. To want to slow or stop tourism, is to want to slow and stop jobs for locals. Before tourism Bali was incredibly poor. 

So, who are we to say tourism is bad for a place? And if we do, we do so selfishly, because we want sleepy, unspoiled, cheap places to go in the winter. (I myself have caught myself complaining about the good old days when one could travel to the tropics and buy a beer for a dollar.) The truth is, it is quite disingenuous of us to come as tourists to a place like Bali only to complain about how tourists have ruined the place – and yet, I have heard this constantly since my arrival here. 

I spoke with one of my drivers and asked him if the Balinese people are happy about all the tourism that has taken over the island, and he said emphatically, “Yes! Before tourism we were all very poor. Now we have jobs.”

So, saying Nusa Dua is not authentic is just as wrong, and I stand corrected. 

Nusa Dua is lovely - the perfect place to stay if you have some money and enjoy some luxury, clean beaches, and sidewalks that don't have holes in them large enough to swallow a man whole. There is a paved pathway beside the water that runs all along the length of Nusa Dua, and on the back side of the resorts are wide pathways full of greenery, flowers, crosswalks, and gorgeous traffic circles. It is great for walking and the beach is soft sand and gently entry to shallow, calm water.

As I have written in my book Around the World: A Journey Inward travel to the developing world has challenged me, built character, and has been a catalyst for change. It has taught me lessons I could not have learned in any other way – but one of the things I have learned is that I don't have to stay in crap places with no airconditioning to somehow gain the "authentic" experience. 

Experiencing the authentic Bali is about experiencing its people. And that means taking the time to speak with people outside your resort. It is about being open to learning and respecting their culture. For people who maybe have not travelled very much, Bali would be a great place to come.

For me however, it was a long, long, long way to come for a tropical island that looks pretty much like every other tropical island I have been on. Nothing I see surprises me anymore. 

For me, the world has shrunk. 

Is it possible there are no more lessons for me to learn? I doubt that. But maybe the lesson I need to learn most is how to stay home and be content. 

I have worked hard to build for myself a wonderful home and business in Oliver, and the truth is, I cannot wait to get back there.

Candi Dasa

Bali is quite small. 153 km east to west, and 112 km north to south. Most people stay in the very busy tourist regions on the southwest coast near the airport (Seminyak, Kuta, Legian) or in the centre of the island in Ubud. The rich and famous go to the high-end gated community of Nusa Dua to stay at the St. Regis and other fancy hotels. 

This week I was on the east coast in Candi Dasa. 

There are no real beaches here beyond small alcoves of coral and volcanic rock. And because of the time of year, there is no crystal blue turquoise water that Bali is famous for. Instead there is the steady roar of waves crashing onto the lava rock.

The region is a small village - or string of villages along the highway between the mountain and ocean. There are no high end, big resorts, and with the exception of a waterfall, a few temples, and an old village, there is not a lot going on. 

I chose to come here because I could use my time share weeks – though I can see that that was unnecessary as there are literally dozens of lovely boutique hotels here far nicer than where I am staying – all under $60 CAD a night. It is very laid back here, and while that might be great for someone coming here just for a week, it is a little too sleepy for me and with nowhere to really walk except along the busy highway and around the lovely lotus pond, I am finding myself a little (OK a lot) bored.

There are lots of things to do in Bali – but you could do them all in about 2 weeks and I have already seen everything in this area. And truthfully, if you have been to India as have I, you have seen more than your fair share of Hindu temples. I am kind of templed out. I do enjoy driving about seeing the countryside and visiting the many waterfalls – but again, if you are from Canada, you have seen waterfalls far grander than in Bali.

I hiked across a rice field one day and down about a thousand steps through the jungle to get to a waterfall, only to find there were so many mosquitos I barely took time to snap a photo before running up all those steps to get away from the little bastards.

I am terrified of mosquitos. I got Dengue fever in 2019 and had to be hospitalized. I was quite sick: my platelets dropped to 40 putting me at some risk of bleeding out, and my blood pressure dropped to 60 over 40 putting my organs at risk of not getting enough oxygen.

There are four dengue virus types, all of which are capable of inducing severe disease (dengue hemorrhagic fever /dengue shock syndrome). Once you have had Dengue – although you are immune to that virus, you can still get Dengue three more times, and each time is more dangerous than the first. 

There is a vaccination against Dengue however, it is not available in many countries, including Canada. That is because it has very high-risk factors – especially to people who have already had Dengue…so I am out of luck. So, when I wrote that I ran out of the jungle – I RAN – and by the time I got out of the jungle I was near heat stroked and thought Dengue might be the worse of two evils. I was close to passing out because I forgot to bring water and had not anticipated such a work out. As I hiked across the rice paddies I had visions of fainting and falling into the canals alongside the raised walkway where I would surely be eaten alive by water snakes, rats, and more mosquitos! (Note to self - always bring water!)

Walking here in Candi Dasa has been a bit of a challenge, even beyond the heat and humidity. Early morning or at night are the only reasonable times to avoid the heat – but nighttime is dangerous. Not because of crime – it is very safe here and I would have no trouble walking about at night – but the sidewalks are deathtraps!

Raised up about 2 feet from the road to accommodate a huge volume of rain which runs underneath the sidewalk, in a great many places, the sidewalks are caved in – leaving a gaping hole with a two-foot drop. Between the holes and the heaves caused by tree roots, walking at night on the poorly lit streets is just not possible.

One good thing about being on the east coast is that, unlike Ubud, it has been sunny every day. There have been a few small late afternoon showers but that it is. On the flip side, sunshine means higher heat. Yesterday was 34C with 80% humidity. Only the sea breeze and the pool made it bearable.

Tomorrow, I will head to Nusa Dua to hang out with the rich folks. I am using another time share week. I would not have chosen that area had I known it is homogenous and will not at all reflect an authentic side of Bali, but I am learning as I go and will make the best of it. I thought I might take myself out to dinner one night at the St. Regis, but when I looked at the menu, I thought better of it. With wine, a dinner for one will run $300 plus. I like good food, but that is obscene. I will have to settle for their high tea one afternoon. Rooms at the St. Regis start at $1800 a night but the high tea is cheaper than at the Fairmount hotels in Canada. So, I will put on my best dress, brush my hair for the first time in two weeks, and pretend to live like the other half.