Thursday, July 24, 2008
Monday, July 21, 2008
More about the moose
Thought you might want to know why I brought up a moose:
Announcements June 14
Last minute announcements, that is. In a few hours I'm heading out of this hot New York to take a cool cruise up the coast of Alaska. I haven't seen it since I was there on Statehood Day, 1959, and I'm curious to see how it's changed. This time around I won't be bouncing up the gravel washboard Alaska Highway in an old panel truck, camping out on my own private adventure in campgrounds that didn't get dark until 11 pm. (In case anyone wants to know how to find the time to finish Proust, that's how.) My big brother (who couldn't go back then) has been waiting a long time for his part of our childhood dream to come true, and now I've accepted his invitation to join him on a cruise ship 50 years after my first visit. I think it will be quite a trip.
I have no doubt that Alaska's still as beautiful as ever, but I'm certain it has changed. I remember standing on the street in Haines, Alaska - a little village we'd settled down in because we were tired of driving, which is located at the end of one branch of the Alaska Highway and was the only way to get the ferry to Juneau (the capitol at the time).
One afternoon we were standing with a handful of other locals on the very short main street, watching the only notable event in town that day: the arrival of the latest ferry. We gazed quietly at the row of cars that lined the road and curled up and around a short ramp on to the dock, waiting to board. The sun was shining (well, the sun was always shining, day and night, because it was August), the sky was blue, and the ship had brought 'boat eggs' (which meant they were about 6 weeks old which, for some reason, was considered a fine thing), so some people murmered a word or two about how nice the next day's breakfast would be when suddenly we heard a crash of brush and a large moose with a big rack of horns leaped out of the woods across the street right up onto the ramp of the dock and landed loudly and heavily next to the line of cars.
He was not happy to be there. He snorted, half turned, reared up, and, finding a space to exit, jumped off the ramp and landed on the roof of a hapless car stopped five feet below. All four of his hooves punched through the roof (amazingly no one was hurt) which made the moose *really* cranky. We watched, frozen, mouths open, as he wrenched each leg out, one by one, between the terrified faces of the car's occupants, wobbled on the roof of the car, bellowed very loudly, lept on to the hood (I didn't see if he did any damage there, but he was a big moose, so he couldn't have done much good) flew off sideways to gallop right past us and down the main road, throwing his head and snorting indignance as the strollers further down the road carefully backed out of his way.
It was quiet still, for a few moments. Someone noticed that our mouths were hanging open and said amiably, "You don't want to get in the way of a piss-offed moose," by way of explanation, and that was that.
That was in 1959. Now it's 2008. I'm kind of hoping some moose will cavort around when we pull into the docks of the towns on the cruise because I'd really like to see it all over again from a different angle this time. But I'm not counting on it.
Anyway, I did have some announcements, and that wasn't really one of them...
Announcements June 14
Last minute announcements, that is. In a few hours I'm heading out of this hot New York to take a cool cruise up the coast of Alaska. I haven't seen it since I was there on Statehood Day, 1959, and I'm curious to see how it's changed. This time around I won't be bouncing up the gravel washboard Alaska Highway in an old panel truck, camping out on my own private adventure in campgrounds that didn't get dark until 11 pm. (In case anyone wants to know how to find the time to finish Proust, that's how.) My big brother (who couldn't go back then) has been waiting a long time for his part of our childhood dream to come true, and now I've accepted his invitation to join him on a cruise ship 50 years after my first visit. I think it will be quite a trip.
I have no doubt that Alaska's still as beautiful as ever, but I'm certain it has changed. I remember standing on the street in Haines, Alaska - a little village we'd settled down in because we were tired of driving, which is located at the end of one branch of the Alaska Highway and was the only way to get the ferry to Juneau (the capitol at the time).
One afternoon we were standing with a handful of other locals on the very short main street, watching the only notable event in town that day: the arrival of the latest ferry. We gazed quietly at the row of cars that lined the road and curled up and around a short ramp on to the dock, waiting to board. The sun was shining (well, the sun was always shining, day and night, because it was August), the sky was blue, and the ship had brought 'boat eggs' (which meant they were about 6 weeks old which, for some reason, was considered a fine thing), so some people murmered a word or two about how nice the next day's breakfast would be when suddenly we heard a crash of brush and a large moose with a big rack of horns leaped out of the woods across the street right up onto the ramp of the dock and landed loudly and heavily next to the line of cars.
He was not happy to be there. He snorted, half turned, reared up, and, finding a space to exit, jumped off the ramp and landed on the roof of a hapless car stopped five feet below. All four of his hooves punched through the roof (amazingly no one was hurt) which made the moose *really* cranky. We watched, frozen, mouths open, as he wrenched each leg out, one by one, between the terrified faces of the car's occupants, wobbled on the roof of the car, bellowed very loudly, lept on to the hood (I didn't see if he did any damage there, but he was a big moose, so he couldn't have done much good) flew off sideways to gallop right past us and down the main road, throwing his head and snorting indignance as the strollers further down the road carefully backed out of his way.
It was quiet still, for a few moments. Someone noticed that our mouths were hanging open and said amiably, "You don't want to get in the way of a piss-offed moose," by way of explanation, and that was that.
That was in 1959. Now it's 2008. I'm kind of hoping some moose will cavort around when we pull into the docks of the towns on the cruise because I'd really like to see it all over again from a different angle this time. But I'm not counting on it.
Anyway, I did have some announcements, and that wasn't really one of them...
Alaska and the Scanner's Retreat
It occurs to me that everyone on earth is not on my mailing list and I've been asked to make the latest newsletter available online, so here it is (without any of the pretty colors or the html):
Barbara Sher - Back From Alaska & Scanners Retreat
Hi Friends,
I'm back from Alaska and I didn't see one moose, but the ship did get within 500 yards of a glacier which obligingly 'calved' a few times, the front wall cracking audibly, a rush of water falling behind the face of ice, then the whole thing sliding down into the water creating lots of splashing and sending swells of water toward the boat. More exciting, even, at least to me, were the brilliant blue streaks in the glacier and some of the small icebergs floating in the water, where the light was behind them. I fell in love with glaciers.
We watched as some of the crew in their fat, yellow zodiac chased after the smaller icebergs, hoping to gaff some ice to bring on board. It was trickier than it looked and provided us with much entertainment and shouting of instructions. Eventually, a small, easy-chair-sized chunk of iceberg was lifted on to the top deck. There were only a few of us around it at first and I took the opportunity to knock off a small chunk of transparent glacier ice and carry it away, licking it as though it were an ice cream cone. It was better. I never tasted ice water so fresh and clean. And it might have been thousands of years old.
Now, back in reality. I'm sweltering in NY city (actually, hiding in my air-conditioned bedroom with shades drawn like Count Dracula). After a few days of pulling out notes and binders, I did my latest internet radio show yesterday, all about Scanners and the Scanner retreat in Italy, coming up Sept 26 through October 1.
Producer Matthew Pearl had been to the last Scanner retreat in Puglia -- in fact, he and his family scouted out this perfect place earlier last year, and he and I talked on the show about the beautiful area, and the 16th century masseria where we ran the retreat last spring -- a remarkable, stone fortified country estate surrounded by acres of ancient olive trees.
We started remembering the food, of course. It was so good, both at the masseria and at the other restaurants we discovered in nearby towns and hidden country homes. We went on and on about the beauty of the nearby towns with their medieval centers, still alive with markets, still full of people who live there all the time, still not packed with tourists. (Head over to Flickr.com and check out Ostuni and Cisternino and Alberobello if you want to fall in love)
But mostly we talked about how great it is for any Scanner to get away from their own world and join other Scanners at a retreat.
What's a Scanner? Here's how to know if you are one:
If you find you have loads of interests, that you're curious and love learning new things, that the subjects that fascinate you are all over the map; if you hate the idea of being limited to any one thing because you'd miss all the others, you're a Scanner.
If you wish you could find the One Right Thing but you fear you'll never find a career (or a hobby!) that will remain interesting for very long...If you're a sweetheart of a person, kind and friendly and childlike in some ways, and you like to help people or make the world a better place, you're a Scanner.
If you wish you were born rich so you wouldn't have to work at all, just so you could play forever with fascinating ideas and concepts and skills and never again have to do anything boring, If you find yourself wildly enthusiastic about something and you believe you'll stay that way -- but after awhile the enthusiasm dies down and you become excited about something else, If people call you a dilettante or flakey or a 'hectic eclectic,' (as one person wrote me), well then, you're a Scanner.
And if you thought you were the only person like you and often wonder how you got so strange, you're a Scanner.
And that last part -- feeling like you're the one oddball in a world full of specialists -- is exactly what makes a retreat the most unforgettable experience of a lifetime. You see, Scanners are among the best people in the world. And they get the worst rap. But at a 5-day retreat with other Scanners, they discover a perspective that's impossible to get any other way. Surrounded by people who are so familiar, so unjudging, Scanners tell me they feel as though they've come home. It's really something to see.
I get to spend hours each day working with a group of 15 - 17 Scanners, helping them find their goals, organize their interests, create plans, set up support teams, and ferret out and outsmart resistance.
On their own they have fun, go walking and swimming, travel around, shop, talk all night, draw on tablecloths, laugh a lot, and often build what might be lifelong friendships. (Three of the past retreats hold yearly reunions.)
And they write me wonderful letters...
"The most lifechanging thing about this trip for me is that I felt fully accepted for who I was as a scanner - and beyond that PROUD! After reading Refuse To Choose I felt UNDERSTOOD, but adding acceptance and pride in that was an entire new feeling. Being around people who supported my ideas instead of competed with them was entirely new to me. "
"...your work with me was nothing short of miraculous. I have [spent years learning about myself] and NEVER once did the issues come up that you identified so quickly. I really couldn't believe it and it is still sinking in. What I love is that you didn't tell me why I needed to be on the path I am on, you somehow pulled it out of me."
If you want to read more letters and see photos of the masseria or find out the details, the times, what's covered and not covered in the fees, head over to Genius Press and click on the Scanner Retreat page. And if you want to attend the next retreat from Sept. 26 to Oct. 1, this fall, sign up pretty quick because there are only about 7 spaces available as I write this mailer.
If you want to know more about Scanners and about the retreats, listen on your computer to the internet show about Scanners that we did on July 20, Right Here!
Take a look or give a listen and write me a letter. I'd love to hear from you.
Dreaming Scanner dreams,
Barbara
Barbara Sher - Back From Alaska & Scanners Retreat
Hi Friends,
I'm back from Alaska and I didn't see one moose, but the ship did get within 500 yards of a glacier which obligingly 'calved' a few times, the front wall cracking audibly, a rush of water falling behind the face of ice, then the whole thing sliding down into the water creating lots of splashing and sending swells of water toward the boat. More exciting, even, at least to me, were the brilliant blue streaks in the glacier and some of the small icebergs floating in the water, where the light was behind them. I fell in love with glaciers.
We watched as some of the crew in their fat, yellow zodiac chased after the smaller icebergs, hoping to gaff some ice to bring on board. It was trickier than it looked and provided us with much entertainment and shouting of instructions. Eventually, a small, easy-chair-sized chunk of iceberg was lifted on to the top deck. There were only a few of us around it at first and I took the opportunity to knock off a small chunk of transparent glacier ice and carry it away, licking it as though it were an ice cream cone. It was better. I never tasted ice water so fresh and clean. And it might have been thousands of years old.
Now, back in reality. I'm sweltering in NY city (actually, hiding in my air-conditioned bedroom with shades drawn like Count Dracula). After a few days of pulling out notes and binders, I did my latest internet radio show yesterday, all about Scanners and the Scanner retreat in Italy, coming up Sept 26 through October 1.
Producer Matthew Pearl had been to the last Scanner retreat in Puglia -- in fact, he and his family scouted out this perfect place earlier last year, and he and I talked on the show about the beautiful area, and the 16th century masseria where we ran the retreat last spring -- a remarkable, stone fortified country estate surrounded by acres of ancient olive trees.
We started remembering the food, of course. It was so good, both at the masseria and at the other restaurants we discovered in nearby towns and hidden country homes. We went on and on about the beauty of the nearby towns with their medieval centers, still alive with markets, still full of people who live there all the time, still not packed with tourists. (Head over to Flickr.com and check out Ostuni and Cisternino and Alberobello if you want to fall in love)
But mostly we talked about how great it is for any Scanner to get away from their own world and join other Scanners at a retreat.
What's a Scanner? Here's how to know if you are one:
If you find you have loads of interests, that you're curious and love learning new things, that the subjects that fascinate you are all over the map; if you hate the idea of being limited to any one thing because you'd miss all the others, you're a Scanner.
If you wish you could find the One Right Thing but you fear you'll never find a career (or a hobby!) that will remain interesting for very long...If you're a sweetheart of a person, kind and friendly and childlike in some ways, and you like to help people or make the world a better place, you're a Scanner.
If you wish you were born rich so you wouldn't have to work at all, just so you could play forever with fascinating ideas and concepts and skills and never again have to do anything boring, If you find yourself wildly enthusiastic about something and you believe you'll stay that way -- but after awhile the enthusiasm dies down and you become excited about something else, If people call you a dilettante or flakey or a 'hectic eclectic,' (as one person wrote me), well then, you're a Scanner.
And if you thought you were the only person like you and often wonder how you got so strange, you're a Scanner.
And that last part -- feeling like you're the one oddball in a world full of specialists -- is exactly what makes a retreat the most unforgettable experience of a lifetime. You see, Scanners are among the best people in the world. And they get the worst rap. But at a 5-day retreat with other Scanners, they discover a perspective that's impossible to get any other way. Surrounded by people who are so familiar, so unjudging, Scanners tell me they feel as though they've come home. It's really something to see.
I get to spend hours each day working with a group of 15 - 17 Scanners, helping them find their goals, organize their interests, create plans, set up support teams, and ferret out and outsmart resistance.
On their own they have fun, go walking and swimming, travel around, shop, talk all night, draw on tablecloths, laugh a lot, and often build what might be lifelong friendships. (Three of the past retreats hold yearly reunions.)
And they write me wonderful letters...
"The most lifechanging thing about this trip for me is that I felt fully accepted for who I was as a scanner - and beyond that PROUD! After reading Refuse To Choose I felt UNDERSTOOD, but adding acceptance and pride in that was an entire new feeling. Being around people who supported my ideas instead of competed with them was entirely new to me. "
"...your work with me was nothing short of miraculous. I have [spent years learning about myself] and NEVER once did the issues come up that you identified so quickly. I really couldn't believe it and it is still sinking in. What I love is that you didn't tell me why I needed to be on the path I am on, you somehow pulled it out of me."
If you want to read more letters and see photos of the masseria or find out the details, the times, what's covered and not covered in the fees, head over to Genius Press and click on the Scanner Retreat page. And if you want to attend the next retreat from Sept. 26 to Oct. 1, this fall, sign up pretty quick because there are only about 7 spaces available as I write this mailer.
If you want to know more about Scanners and about the retreats, listen on your computer to the internet show about Scanners that we did on July 20, Right Here!
Take a look or give a listen and write me a letter. I'd love to hear from you.
Dreaming Scanner dreams,
Barbara
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Scanner Retreat in Puglia, Italy
Did a radio show today with good producer Matt -- he in Corfu, I in New York City -- all about the wonderful place where the spring and fall retreats take place. Tomorrow I'll add some links to photos of the beautiful masseria on Flickr.com, but right now you can see the shots we took last time at www.geniuspress.com
And here's the long and ugly link, well, not exactly a link, I hear. You should be able to play the thing from here (and I promise to learn how to do tiny urls next -- spent the weekend bouncing around Twitter, one thing at a time...)
Oh my. That looks like a sentence from The Magic Mountain.
(OH MY, NO IT DOESN'T! Will you look at that? :-) Life is good.)
The show went on longer than expected and we didn't have time for callers because I'm obsessive about this issue, and I couldn't stop talking about this remarkable population, this group of people that have so many interests, are so curious, love learning new things, and are torn between the dread that they'll be stuck in some suffocating, dull job and the dread that they'll never amount to anythng because they can't focus.
But Scanners have to know there's not a damn thing wrong with them, first and foremost, if they know nothing else. What a costly and cruel mistake it's been for these smart, multi-talented people to get caught up in the age of specialization that respects only single-minded achievers and doesn't know who they are.
Their families and teachers and communities are bewildered and disappointed in them. But then, these same people would have called Ben Frankiln a dilettante, and told Aristotle he had attention deficit disorder. They'd have been dismayed at the wasted life of Leonardo da Vinci (if they didn't know his name!) because he was so talented and just didn't stick to anythng. and told they're dilettantes, lazy, neurotic -- that they fear success, they're trying to sabotage themselves, or they're just foolish, no ability to concentrate, no character or self-discipline.
It's funny to call them renaissance people, as if it were odd that someone has more than one interest, and most of them shy away from the grandiosity of the term. But I guess that's what they are.
Tomorrow I'll talk about the other thngs Scanners need -- and why I wish I could run more retreats because they make such a huge difference in the lives of these talented people.
Bad enough they're told these things, they believe them! They repeat them when they describe themselves.
And their reactions when they find out it's all been a huge mistake is a level of relief that often brings tears. I'm going to start quoteing some of the letters I've been getting for years now.
Nothing's more important than a Scanner knowing there's nothing wrong with her or him.
But there are a few more essentials Scanners must have. I'll tell you all about them tomorrow. (Of course, if you can make that monster link above work, you can rest your eyes and listen to it.)
Watch this space.
And here's the long and ugly link, well, not exactly a link, I hear. You should be able to play the thing from here (and I promise to learn how to do tiny urls next -- spent the weekend bouncing around Twitter, one thing at a time...)
Oh my. That looks like a sentence from The Magic Mountain.
(OH MY, NO IT DOESN'T! Will you look at that? :-) Life is good.)
The show went on longer than expected and we didn't have time for callers because I'm obsessive about this issue, and I couldn't stop talking about this remarkable population, this group of people that have so many interests, are so curious, love learning new things, and are torn between the dread that they'll be stuck in some suffocating, dull job and the dread that they'll never amount to anythng because they can't focus.
But Scanners have to know there's not a damn thing wrong with them, first and foremost, if they know nothing else. What a costly and cruel mistake it's been for these smart, multi-talented people to get caught up in the age of specialization that respects only single-minded achievers and doesn't know who they are.
Their families and teachers and communities are bewildered and disappointed in them. But then, these same people would have called Ben Frankiln a dilettante, and told Aristotle he had attention deficit disorder. They'd have been dismayed at the wasted life of Leonardo da Vinci (if they didn't know his name!) because he was so talented and just didn't stick to anythng. and told they're dilettantes, lazy, neurotic -- that they fear success, they're trying to sabotage themselves, or they're just foolish, no ability to concentrate, no character or self-discipline.
It's funny to call them renaissance people, as if it were odd that someone has more than one interest, and most of them shy away from the grandiosity of the term. But I guess that's what they are.
Tomorrow I'll talk about the other thngs Scanners need -- and why I wish I could run more retreats because they make such a huge difference in the lives of these talented people.
Bad enough they're told these things, they believe them! They repeat them when they describe themselves.
And their reactions when they find out it's all been a huge mistake is a level of relief that often brings tears. I'm going to start quoteing some of the letters I've been getting for years now.
Nothing's more important than a Scanner knowing there's nothing wrong with her or him.
But there are a few more essentials Scanners must have. I'll tell you all about them tomorrow. (Of course, if you can make that monster link above work, you can rest your eyes and listen to it.)
Watch this space.
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