Keagan and his Daddy playing in the front yard of the Bed and Breakfast in Snowflake. We went up for the annual Pioneer Day celebration and joined family in all the festivities.

Below are pics of the Osmer D. Heritage Inn that Tami and I stayed in. I highly recommend it!

The front yard .

The Breakfast is the absolute best in town.

This is the room that Tami and I stayed in.

Water fall in front of the temple.

Et lux in tenebris lucet et tenebrae eam non conprehenderunt

In January, I found myself at the top of a ski run in Flagstaff, giddy as a child. I had not been skiing since I was about 13 and boy did it take me back. And here I was, slightly hesitant to go, but excited to conquer this mountain. Have you ever just let yourself go, sacrificing every caution and hesitancy to the speed of the slope? The slight tickle in your stomach as you start to gain momentum, the burn of each snowflake as it hits your face, the wind ripping through your hair? And as you cut from the left to the right, your movements become natural, innate, instinctive, as if you were born to soar with the yeti gods and snow angels. Have you ever felt that way?

Well neither have I.

Truth is, I went about 15 feet before I had my face pile driven into the snow with one leg up like this and one arm down like that. The sound that my knee made as it did a 360 was my body's way of saying, "What the hell were you thinkin?!" It seemed like everyone was slowing to look at me like I was a wreck on the freeway. "No blood here, keep moving along." I even noticed a crow up in a spruce tree seem a little too interested in my distress and probably hoping for my demise. I tried again.

I managed to stay up a little longer before going into some convulsive "Dance, Dance, Revolution" routine. SMACK! Flat on my back, sliding head first, complete with a complimentary snow wedgie. Oddly enough, now there were two crows watching. "No bully mountain is going to give me a wedgie and live to tell the…SMACK! CRACK! BANG! TWANG! And there went my knee.

So as I humbly hobbled down the mountain, you know, to the flat spot were they teach 5 year old kids how to ski. I told the others to go on to bigger better slopes and I would practice on my own. The crows must have liked that idea, because now there were 5 or 6 and they followed me all the way down. I wonder if they always follow someone who looks like they are trying to kill themselves on the slopes.

But I found myself alone for 3 or 4 hours.

The old me may have been mad or disheartened by this. I may have been bitter because of all the potential fun that seemingly had gone to the dogs along with my knee. But I thought it was all pretty funny. I actually had a lot of fun chilling on the outdoor balcony of the lodge--thinking and soaking in the ambiance. I could not wait to get home and tell Tami, facial gestures, body contortions and all, of how I screwed up my knee.

I seem to get that way a lot now…which is surprising since I really am a loner by nature. It has always seemed like when I am alone time slows down. I have all the time I need to be introspective and prune away those aspects of my life that are a waste of time. Like a tree, cut back the lesser qualities to leave room for the greater ones to grow. According to the sophist, Philostratus the Elder, "On wild trees the flowers are fragrant, on cultivated trees, the fruits."
If this was true, what better way to prune and cultivate ones self than to cut loose some of the fragrant and ever-blossoming distractions of society in order to lead a more fruitful life?

I remember having my roommate drop me off at the foot of the Pinnaleno Mountains and telling him to come looking for me in 3 days. He thought I'd go crazy after a couple of hours not having someone to talk to...He did not realize my good friend Thoreau was in my backpack. In one of my lone journeys across the American west, I slept on a bench in a park in downtown El Paso. After hitch-hiking in from Amarillo and I watched the low clouds turn red as they drifted over the city lights. I remember then, wondering that night, if I was even capable of feeling lonely since that had become the norm for me. Months later, I remember sitting under a palm frond umbrella at 1 o'clock in the morning on a Mexican beach. Sea salt in the air and my mind racing every bit as fast as the storm that was approaching from the west. I sat hoping that I would be normal again, rather than resolutely numb to my constant solitude. But I was so happy alone—no one seemed to grasp the awakenings I had gone through over the years. So I kept them in shadows. I was so happy alone—as long as I had something to write on and something to write with, I had all that I needed.

It was a couple years after this that I was sitting next to the podium at church. The Bishop had asked me to speak for about 15 minutes about some of my experiences, probably thinking that a person that had not slept on a bed for 14 months probably had a story or two to tell. That's when I saw Tami walk in to the congregation and sit down. I had never wanted to ask someone out so bad in my entire life. She seemed far too lovely to ever be audience to my awkwardness…but unlike others who I never gave a chance to really get to know me, I wanted to find out if I could let her in.

There is only one way to describe the influence she had on me...

Et lux in tenebris lucet et tenebrae eam non conprehenderunt

"And the light shineth in shadows: and the shadows did not comprehend it"

I almost backed out of our first date. My stomach was in knots. I had not been on an official date in over a year. I was so nervous and more than aware that she was out of my league in more ways than one. I could not understand why, but by the end of the date, after just opening up and swapping story for story, there was more than a glimmer of hope for us. The darkness and shadows were no longer necessary protections and I welcomed the light from her openly.

I still find myself alone from time to time, like up on that snowy ski slope. I still like to get out and do things on my own that are self-cultivating and I have some solitary hobbies that Tami does not share. But these things in themselves never bring as much joy, as when I run home to Tami, to tell her of the days activities. I have known women that have made me weak in the knees before; but she, like any true love, makes me feel stronger than ever before. I know that the truest glimpse of what I really am will be seen in her eyes as I learn to cherish her as she should be.

I hope all that are reading this have someone in their life that is their 'true north'—someone that gives you your bearings when you feel lost at sea. Life is too short to not find someone to adore before they are taken from us. Life is too short to not tell them so.

Especially with all these dang crows still following me...It was just a spranged knee...nothing fatal, give me a break!

Ad Astra Per Alia Porci - to the stars on the wings of a pig

(Old Blog from another website I posted in April)

Let's just say it has been an interesting month. Strike that…that's a huge understatement. April was the crappiest month I have had in many years. Just name something bad that could have happened, IT HAPPENED! Family issues, baby issues, health issues, employment issues, money issues, school issues, etc. If karma is legitimate, then I must have been Attila the Hun in my previous life, 'cuz something cosmic has got it out for me I am certain. I need to take out a butane tank and shoot it.

Gals…Don't try to understand. When a guy gets to feeling this way, we can't talk it out, a self-help book won't suffice, no Rorschach ink blot test will diagnose. We have to get out of the house and burn something, shoot something, blow something up. If we don't, we just might evolve more and more into one of those metrosexuals that society is so into right now…and you don't want that. Here is why.

A girl once told me, "There is one thing that men and women will always agree on…never trust a woman". So you may think you want a man that is into pedicures and hair products, well think again. He just becomes more sneaky...he becomes your competition. When you find your tweezers for the fifth time this week lying next to nose hairs stacked like a cord of wood on the bathroom sink--be forewarned that next the nail file is missing, all the eye-brow wax is missing--then the pumis stone is wore out. Before you know it, your high heels are stretched a little too big for your feet…because your husband… (that Biatch, he didn't even ask!) was just curious how his calves look in your shoes. The only thing more difficult and competitive than the Mars/Venus thing is the Venus/Semi Venus thing. But I digress…

Manly men need to get out and vent in a destructive way. It's not a bad thing; call it Constructive Demolition if you will. We need to "Sound our barbaric yawp over the roof tops of the world". Luckily my wife knows this and she would rather let me go chase, stab, kill, burn, or blast things, than to wallow in my own quiet desperation or ruin another pair of her stilettos. Her only rule: be as far from the house as possible.

So I talked to an acquaintance last week and he pays me to take him and some of his colleagues out into the desert to teach them how to live off the land for 3 days. But he gets sick and his wife calls and cancels at the last minute...the pansy. So...What to do now.

I could have invited myself to go on a road trip that some of my friends must have 'forgotten' to invite me on weekend before last. Imagine their surprise if I climbed into their car at an Apache Junction on-ramp on their way out of town! Wait, when I said surprise, I actually meant horror. I guess the sight of me clambering in the window with a machete at my hip and me covered in blood and leaves from some shortcuts I took might be kind of shocking (By the way, why is there so much razor wire surrounding things in Apache Junction?! I mean, what are they protecting, it's just a reservation for white people!)

Even uninvited and slightly deranged, I know that my friends' annoyance would soon give way to resignation after an hour or two dozen. I used a similar tactic with dating. I called it "The Wear-Down"…how else does a guy like me get a knock-out wife like Tami? By being around so much that someone just gets use to your presence, no more like they get comfortably numb to your presence. Remember it…The Wear-Down. This would explain why when I proposed, Tami rolled her eyes and sighed, "Hhh-h-h-h...Fine."

But back to the venting thing. I needed to get away but I was stuck at home, where I am not aloud to exercise my philosophy of Constructive Demolition. My wife took pity though. Maybe it was the fact that she saw me slam dunking the kitchen trash into the trash dumpster…six times. Maybe it was me running around the house with her bra wrapped over my head with the cups over my ears like a biplane pilot, an arm load of sock-bombs, all this complete with propeller noises and the rattle of strafing machine gun fire. What ever it was, she took pity on me.

"Aaron, darling? What do you say we go camping up in the Bradshaw Mountains? It's old rugged mining country up in the pine trees. We can even rent some quads, go fishing, and cook in your Dutch ovens if you want." Suspecting a trap, like the last time she had me committed to Happy Acres Asylum, I looked to my right and then to my left to see if those burly guys dressed in white smocks with the big butterfly nets were hiding near by. With my innate ability to debunk any spousal tricks, and my absolute navigability and command of the English language…I unequivocally posed the question… "Huh?"

She told me about this little mining town called Crown King. I took off my bra-helmet now that she had my attention so that I could hear her better. Twenty some odd miles of washboards, you say. Main Street is a remote dirt road, Check. One gas pump in town, Liking it. Dodging quads when you cross the street, Even better. Scroungy natives, the smell of dust and oil, exploring mines, cooking in dutch ovens, Freakin Awesome! I mean this place is so far off the beaten path, that they don't even have a garbage service so you have to pack your trash up in bags and bring it back down the mountain. Sounds like America's version of Rocky Point to me!!! (Minus the big pool of whale and dolphin piss known as the Sea of Cortez, but that's another rant.)

So we went to Crown King last weekend with my in-laws and it was a blast. Seriously, a cool little living ghost-town if you are as into odd places as I am. It was surprisingly a nice get-a-way and I didn't have to break or destroy a thing. You might ask how my in-laws could stand being with me for 3 days and 2 nights. I already told you, it's called…"The Wear-Down".

And do you know what I did when I got back to the city, I slam-dunked the trash bags we brought down the mountain, but only did it once.

From this forest service tower you can see the San Fransisco Peaks in Flagstaff and the Cardinal Stadium in PHX.

Okay, so we didn't really rough it that much. We stayed at this little Bed and Breakfast in Crown King. But I did cook in dutch-ovens!

The oldest operating saloon in Arizona...and they do have Sasparilla! (Root Beer...Jeewiz!)

Autumn Approaches

I always know when autumn approaches

The paths seem to stretch farther,

The cocoa mugs on the porch table empty faster.

And the sky dawns her crisp red velvet.

A time I tend to linger in, as if I lost something

On the dusty road back to certain friends,

That I left in Time's care.

Our intersecting paths passed too quickly

In pursuit of finding my ultimate parallel.

Life, delicate petals that are always crushed

In our crusade for something more.

Somehow friend, I have a different hope.

Not that you and I should Be today or tomorrow,

But that when I look inside--

Might I find part of you.

--Aaron Peterson--

The Birds and The Bees...

Well that got your attention!



The other day I was speaking with someone and they were surprised to find out that I have voted as a Republican, Independent, and Democrat. They could not believe that someone as unwavering (I guess that is the nice way of saying stubborn jackass) as I can be, could be so transient in my views. especially with the current presidency and the Christian Right bringing so much religious excitement to the nation's surface.

"So are you a Right-wing or a Left-wing?" She asked.

I did not even have to think. I am very conservative in my political views, but very liberal in others. I make a poor Republican and an even worse Democrat. One party seems to promote what ever is financially good for the country as a whole, is good for the individual. This mentality has made us inept at self-sufficiency and we depend on unstable 3rd world countries to grow our food, make our clothes, and provide us with oil. When we sent our businesses to other countries they were suppose to sell those goods and services back to us at a discounted price since they had the cheaper labor...but they didn't, and big business got richer. The other party seems to promote elitists in their altruistic ventures to save the poor and uneducated from "The Man" that keeps us down. As long as there are a bunch of us that are uneducated and unempowered and require handouts in order to make it, we will empower those few that make a living off of dumbing society down. This mentality has no concept of the mantra, "Give a man a fish, he eats for a day. Teach a man to fish, he eats for a lifetime." I could go on and on with both parties but this will suffice for now.

Also, I am religious and a Christian. Let me also add, long before the Christian Right made it popular to be Christian. One would think I would get excited to see such religious fervor, so many bumper stickers, window decals, and various churches popping up everywhere. In many ways I am... it's about time the government and the media had some balance. However, I am nervous at the same time.

I know Truth by itself is rarely popular—and I hope that my religion nor Christianity ever becomes "the in thing".
Let me explain why:

Love has always been an essential truth to be practiced.
The 60's movement made Love popular…
and then STD's, drug abuse, teenage pregnancy, and the breakdown of family values was ushered in on Free Love's coat tails.

Religious fervor? More like a religious pop-culture...with it's own singers, dancers, and movie stars. Is the tattoo of the crucifix really necessary to show your devotion? If there is any truth to the Prosperity Doctrine...if so, why did every person that made any real improvement in Christianity have less and less worldly wealth as they went along?

Dare I say, it's almost like the Christian Right has made a graven image of Hollywood for themselves. I think too many people are clamoring to find truth that fits there lifestyle rather than changing there lifestyle in order to know truth--Clamoring to find a God that fits there lifestyle rather than changing there lifestyle in order to know God. How much reflection, commitment, and devotion to the Creator or to humanity is required by "Church of the Coffee Break". Yes, that's an actual church...and I am sure their coffee warms the hands ...and the soul?
So, to answer her question, am I a right-wing or a left-wing?
I think a bird or a bee that flaps with just his right wing flies in a circle. Same if a bird or a bee flaps with only his left. If he doesn't flap at all, he's a fence-sitter. But as for me, I have gone far by flapping with both.

You had to know about the birds and the bees didn't you.

Veritas ad Deum ducit - Truth leads to God

After my first year of college I had a chance to go up to Toronto for a short time. I remember sitting on the east-bound subway car, peering through my own reflection in the glass at a west-bound subway car next to me. A young couple, probably still in high school, entered the other car hand in hand just before the doors shut. She touched his slicked back hair, he recoiled, she laughed. He flicked at the hem of her school uniform skirt, she dodged, he laughed...then they both laughed when they felt my amuzed gaze.

They teetered together as their car began its momentum forward.

After a few cars went by, for what ever reason, the train began to slow. Here again, I looked into the subway car across from me, and another much older couple sat next to each other--he with thinning gray hair slicked back and her in a long grey skirt and a large scarf covering her head in Russian babushka style. Age had furrowed its deep lines across his forehead and weathered the corners of her eyes.

Now I know it was not the same couple, but for a moment, it was like watching the young couple age and go fast-forwarding into the old, each car that had past being a decade of their lives, and finally pausing a moment on their last chapter. I suddenly felt a little cheated; I wanted to rewind and see what I had missed in the car before, and the car before that. What had kept them together over the years--what of life's secrets had they learned--what did they know of joy--what had gotten them through their pain--what might they have to teach me? Then my train darted off in the opposite direction.

I feel that way now. It seems that over the past six to eight months I have bumped into many people from my own far off past. I catch little snippets from our brief conversations, emails, or blogs --mere glimpses through the glass before our lives are hurried off in different directions.

I bumped into a friend of mine that I had not seen in 14 years. His daughter was born with some major medical issues. The medical costs brought the wolves to his door. He lost his job when the housing crunch hit, lost another when the economy sank, lost another when the employer sold to a larger outfit. It seems the wolves at his door just had pups.

Three different friends that I attended college with are going through terrible divorces, custody battles, and legal proceedings. With lives turned upside down, one hand rocks the cradle while the other pulls back the curtain to see if the slam of a car door outside means trouble. I know so few details with all these stories, yet I wish I knew how they all came to these current crossroads.

The list goes on, and again and again I am reminded that despite my awareness or involvement with friends and family, Life kept moving on for them. I am reminded that I once held an important place in their lives and feel to a certain extent, that I might have abandoned my post when they most needed a friend or family member near.

Some might accuse me of only being interested because I am nosey. Others might say that I think I am capable of counseling or coercion saying to themselves..."Humph!... Aaron, a wannabe psychologist for sure. Why else would he want to be audience to someone else's pain?"
Well, I will tell you why.

Several years ago, a small group of boys and I hiked from Cherry Creek over the Sierra Ancha divide. This climb was several thousands of feet in the late summer. It had been a dry year, it was a particularly hot summer, and we had a late start that day. The first watering hole we came to was dry, the second was a spring that according to the map was suppose to run all year, but it wasn't. We were out of water and the only place within a days hike was a remote muddy cow tank. By the time we arrived, our forty pound packs seemed to be cutting through our shoulders. A small bug flew into Mason's mouth; he tried to cough it up. After several attempts, he soon found his mouth was to dry to spit, so he found it easier to just chew and swallow instead.

The cow tank was two inches of brown sludge with a thin green layer across the top. A few tadpoles gulped at the green clouds that the wind shifted on the water's surface, hoping their legs would appear before death did.

One sniff and everyone agreed we needed to find another source of water. Several of the boys were to weak to continue. Mason and Steven being the oldest said they would help scout for water. It was getting close to sun down so we had to move quickly. We ran to the edge of the valley where there was a ragged cliff. At the cliff's base, two small rocky ravines split up the hillside; Mason went left and Steven went right. I climbed straight up the cliff so that I could hear either one call back their findings. I told myself to be careful, everyone was counting on me, I can't make any mistakes now. My footing slipped again and again, my arms were heavy, and my grip was getting clumsy--signs of severe dehydration.

After about twenty minutes both boys shouted back that they had found nothing. I really began to worry as the sun began to set, I asked the boys to head back to camp. I frantically peered from the top of the cliff across the valley, no windmills, no cottonwood or poplars, nothing that might indicate water. I am all alone--it's up to me to find water.

Suddenly, a very strong impression hit me. Like a voice with out sound or a sentence without words, I felt as if someone ask me to sit down and watch the sunset. That's crazy...I have got to save these boys...I haven't got time to rest. I stood there as if in shock, weak as I was, and it came again softly, clearly, but with even more strength in its invitation.

"Sit down, watch the sunset with Me."

I looked around me, then sat at the cliffs edge. With legs dangling and breath caught, I looked at the sunset, and in all my worry, I had not noticed how beautiful and awesome it was. It had colors, it had shapes--it transformed the rocks and hills in its fiery red. As it engulfed me in its hue, something else engulfed me too. I smiled a little, as the last drop of moisture in me formed at the corner of my eye; it felt cool as it trickled down across my sun burnt cheek.

Of all God's creations, worlds without number, and children far more deserving than I, He asked to watch the sunset with little ol' me.

He knew my needs and circumstances. In all my worry and panic...and He just wanted to watch the sunset with one of his children. He knew that what I needed more than water was the reminder that if I trust in my own ability, I will be left in my own ability. As I watched that sunset, I knew that all things were possible by Him, and that I needed to trust Him more by asking directions, and handing over the reins from time to time, rather than trying so hard on my own.

Some might think that this is far too simple of an experience to give any credence to it. This is not for you. But for the others--others who have lost their bearings and have no true north; I caught a glimpse of where I was in the cosmos. I, one who has known the lonely obliteration of intellect as it gobbles a chaotic black hole in the mind, was reminded that despite being a mere speck in the sands of time, that I am greater than the Earth and stars. In that moment, everything was clear, everything made sense; for a split second, I saw myself as He sees me. Some think that a sea must be walked on or a mountain must be moved in order to qualify as a miracle--but that day an impenetrable mountain was moved in me.

I sat and lingered, watched in wondering amazement, until all the colors were extinguished from the sky. I stood up awhile and began to look for a way down to camp. As the breeze often does for a short time at night fall, I felt the smallest breath of wind coming down from the ravine to the right. With it, it carried the pleasant smell... of wet grass!

With excitement, I quickly climbed up the ravine going deeper into the hillside. Probably two minutes farther up from where Steven had turned around in frustration, lay a big pool of clear water trapped by a cropping of granite on one side, and grass growing in silt on the other.

Had I not taken the invitation to stop for a moment and watch the sunset, I would not have been there to catch the scent of wet grass on the breeze.

So I ask again, Why do I wish I was more involved with friends and family? Is it so that I can try to fix their problems? To recommend a twelve step program? No.

It is simply to share my belief that no matter how bad things have been, how terrible things are now, or how devastating things are going to become, the Savior knows us and our circumstances... and will help us to not only endure, but to prevail.

"Behold, I have engraven thee on the palms of my hands and thy walls are continually before me." Isaiah 49:16

Like when I was without water...He knows us and our circumstances all too well...

Like the high cliff... we must elevate our hearts and minds to a place that will transcend us above our worldly cares and attitudes...

Once we are elevated above our own nature, we can purify ourselves enough to be guided by Him, to see ourselves through his eyes... it was only after forgetting myself and handing over the reins that I discovered water.

So if anyone out there is feeling overwhelmed, beat down, or that their prayers are not being answered... well there is this one place in the Sierra Anchas I can recommend...and don't worry about bringing water.