Over The Edge

This was a crazy personal challenge--rappelling down the side of a 10-story building.  I'm sure for extreme sports enthusiasts, adrenaline junkies and regular practitioners of rappelling, 10 stories would be considered the "bunny slope."  But for someone who isn't any of the above, who never so much as zipped on a zip line, who loves amusements parks but doesn't ride the rides, it was a big deal.  A really big deal.

So why did I take a big leap 'way out of my comfort zone?  There were just too many reasons not to ...  First and foremost, my Girl Scout Council asked me to.  Well, not just me, of course--hopefully all of our adult members considered it a little.  I'm a real believer in the mission and goals of the Girl Scouts of Northern New Jersey.  I've been volunteering as a leader and in a variety of other positions for about 20 years.  I've learned so much, had so many fabulous opportunities, made so many friends, that when presented with the chance to help raise some money for our programs, it wasn't a hard sell.  I'd love for more girls to get the chance to challenge themselves, make lots of new friends and participate in exciting programs while learning all about themselves.  That's why I did it.

I understood that this rappel in the hands of a professional company that does nothing but travel the country helping non profits raise money in this unique way would be safe and controlled.  I'm not really afraid of heights but I have a healthy respect for edges, cliffs and slopes.  The company, Over the Edge has a great reputation (more about them later).  It was safe; I felt good about it.  That's why I did it.

I was ready for a personal challenge.  For lots of personal reasons.  It came at the right time for me and I was ready.  That's why I did it.

I have a troop of high school girls.  This is my second troop, my first troop having graduated high school in 2009.  So I'm a middle-aged leader of some pretty exceptional young women who are all such interesting individuals and spectacular as a group.  I thought it would be good for them to know that you're never too old to try something new.  That's why I did it.

Too many reasons not to go for it so and so I did.  But first, I had to raise a minimum of $1,000.  Because first and foremost, this was a fundraiser and an ambitious one at that.  But thanks to my family and very generous friends, within a couple of months, my first goal was achieved.  It's not easy for me to ask for money, no matter how good the cause, so fundraising also became a part of my challenge.  I'm so grateful to all the people who took the time to visit my little webpage and donate.  Every donation meant the world to me and I was truly humbled by the number of people who contributed.  It was exciting to watch the total grow.

Saturday morning dawned and I followed the rules getting dressed even though it was hot day:  long pants, long sleeved shirt.  No wall burns, please!  It was a short drive to the office building in Woodland Park where the rappelling and family festival was going on.  I checked in and was whisked away to the staging area where a confident person from Over the Edge got me all suited up with harness and carabiners, helmet, gloves and walkie talkie.  There were multiple check points and the equipment was scrutinized for anything that might be amiss--nothing was; the folks from Over the Edge know what they're doing.

The elevator ride to the roof was too short!  When the doors opened we walked through some of the building's HVAC equipment and out into the brilliant sun with miles of views of the gorgeous rolling hills of northern New Jersey.  It was breathtaking.  I have no pictures of the rooftop and the astounding panorama since we weren't allowed to bring phones or cameras with us.  There were four people working with Adam, the training guy.  I watched them learning how the apparatus works while standing on the roof and then a few feet off the ground, using a ladder.  While chatting with my fellow edgers, I realized I was very early for my assigned time slot.  Without my phone I had no idea if my family and friends had arrived yet so back down I went to wait until it was closer to my time.

Back in the staging area, the first people started arriving off the wall.  They were excited and exhilarated.  There were all types of people.  Some leaders and some Girl Scout supporters, all amazing people with great stories.  One woman spoke of the brain surgery she was to have within a couple of weeks.  I mean, how could I be scared of this adventure after hearing that?  Talk about brave.  Everyone was in the spirit of the day--adventurous, daring, happy to be there.

Soon it was time to head up to the roof again.  I was in a group of four people that Adam trained.  I went last and had the hardest time.  It took me a while to understand that I didn't have to hold my weight up, that the equipment would do that for me.  But Adam was really patient and caring.  He gave me a lot of confidence.  The people ahead of me and the people behind me in line were all making the descent as pairs.  I stood there waiting my turn and realized I'd be alone on that wall.  It occurred to me that I've done a lot of "firsts" by myself these last few years.  But those adventures weren't like this one.  This one was in a league of its own.

Photo credit:  GSNNJ

Then it was my turn.  Derek got me all attached to the rope I would travel down as well as a safety rope that was the backup and also prevent me from going too fast.  That wasn't a worry for me.  I was more afraid I'd be the slowest one they'd ever seen.  Getting over the wall that edged the roof proved to be the hardest part of the whole procedure.  I have a little trouble with arthritis and stepping up on the wall backwards just wasn't happening.  My hips would not cooperate with that big step.  So Derek said I would use the "getting in the pool" method.  I sat on the wall and swung my legs over.  He sort of caught me and got me in position, all the while reassuring me that I could do this.  I really wasn't afraid.  The height didn't bother me as I was literally "hanging out" there at the top.  It was more that I was worried I wouldn't remember all the things they'd so briefly taught me, that I wouldn't remember how to unlock the safety apparatus if it locked up, that I was by myself out there.  I kept asking Derek his name.  I'm really bad with names but I wanted to remember him.  Just before I started down, Derek said "You're why I really love my job."  I knew he meant he liked helping people get outside of their own boxes, facing a fear or achieving a goal.  Or, in my case, all of the above.

As I started my descent, another person from the Over the Edge team leaned over [the edge] and said "You're going to encounter some level changes as you go; it's okay."  What?  Well, it turned out the building was exactly straight.  The architecture had pockets for the windows.  Deep pockets.  Even though I wasn't on the "window" route the spaces between the windows, the route that I was traveling, were indented and angled so that each floor had a challenge I hadn't expected.  I'd thought I'd just walk down.  Like spiderman.  But I'd release the gadget (I'm sure there's a fancy rappelling term for that thing) that allowed me to travel down the rope with my feet against the wall and then the wall would disappear and I'd be bouncing around in the air.  I figured out how to grab the ledges with my toes and get stabilized on the wall again.  So there I was releasing myself down the rope, bouncing around my route on the wall and  wondering how the heck I'd gotten myself into this position in the first place.  I could hear people calling my name but little else.  I think someone was giving me instructions through the walkie but I couldn't make them out.  I was wearing a GoPro camera on my helmet but I didn't look around.  It took all my concentration to remember how to do what I was doing and limit my bouncing on the uneven wall.

Eventually I could tell I was getting close to the bottom.  I couldn't see it.  Because I really, really didn't take my eyes off that wall.  But the concrete of the top nine floors turned to brick when I hit the first floor and I soon felt someone holding on to help me find the solid ground again.  I turned around to see my son running over and got a big hug while they unhooked me.  More hugs and some official pictures for the Council and then I went back to the staging area to return the gear.  I was shaking.  I'm not sure why.  I really wasn't scared.  Honestly.  I knew how safe and controlled it was.  I can't say it was physically demanding because the harness did all the work of holding me up.  So it wasn't that.  I guess I was just relieved.  And happy.  A doctor came over and nonchalantly took my pulse, as if I wasn't paying attention.  He urged me to sit down and have some water.  And my friends who work for GSNNJ made sure that I did.  They thought of everything to make sure this was a safe process for everyone.

A bottle of water a cookie and a bagel later, I was feeling better but was still shaking.  I'm not exactly sure when I stopped but it was a while.  I was so grateful that my son and his girlfriend and my best friend were there.  I may have made the trip down the wall by myself but there were people waiting for me when I reached the destination.  And that's always a great feeling after a hard journey.

Everyone has been asking me if I'd do it again.  My initial reaction was a solid no.  It wasn't easy for me ... not the fundraising nor the rappel.  But a lot of worthwhile things aren't easy.  And this was so worthwhile.  I actually think I would do it again.  Now that I understand the engineering behind the gear, now that I trust how the whole thing really works, I'd like to do it again.  I'll look around.  I'll try to relax.  I think I'll enjoy the journey more the next time.

Photo credit:  GSNNJ

I want to send massive amounts of thanks to my friends at Girl Scouts of Northern New Jersey for providing yet another opportunity to try something new.  Thank you to the staff from Over the Edge who were phenomenal.  My family and friends who supported the GSNNJ fundraiser and me blew me away.  I can't really properly express how much that meant to me.

Photo credit:  GSNNJ

On Volunteering

 My twitter name is @GSKath.  I created my twitter account when I found out that both the national and my regional Girl Scout organizations were beginning to communicate important information in tweets.  I've since branched out and follow all sorts of interesting people and organizations but I'll always be @GSKath first and foremost.

I always knew I'd be a Girl Scout volunteer.  Well, actually when I was a girl, I thought I'd be a Girl Guide volunteer.  I was born in Canada and was a Girl Guide growing up, not a Girl Scout.  I had dedicated leaders who really made an impression on me.  We moved to "The States" when I was in 9th grade.  I did join a troop in my hometown in high school and volunteered with a Brownie troop but didn't last very long as these troops didn't do real camping. They did hotel camping.  I'm pretty old school.

My volunteer career began in grade school, continued in high school with student council, prom committee, the school consortium, and Sing Out Morris and then in college with dorm committees, music sorority events and helping out in an administrative office.  I was a Campus Girl Scout too.  In most of these efforts, there were adults at the helm who nurtured all of us young volunteers, helped to bring out the leader or teacher in each of us or helped us figure out our skill sets and passions.  Being able to give time and talent to groups and causes I believed in became a little addictive.

Although my time at church is more limited now,
maintaining the Godly Play worship space is one small
way I've found I can help.  I adore this room.

Fast forward quite a few years.  When my son was about a year old my priest called and asked if I would teach Church School.  It's so hard to say no to the priest, you know.  Thus began my volunteer career.  Teaching third graders on Sundays led to running the program which led to a part-time job, then a full-time job.  Volunteering led me to the most rewarding opportunities in the church.  If I hadn't started as a volunteer, I'd never have known the deep satisfaction of working for a community that has meant the world to me.

By the time my son was in school, I had picked up some other volunteer gigs.  I was the PTA "ice cream lady" for a lot of years at my kids' school, I typed in the school's publishing center (every child created an illustrated book every year), at some point I typed, edited and distributed the monthly newsletter for a couple of schools and I was an officer on the executive board for a little while.  When my daughter arrived in kindergarten, I added being a Girl Scout leader to my volunteer resume.

And that's when things really got going.

Seriously, these girls (all out of college now and
making their own way in the world) gave me so much
joy.  We began with 10, ended with 7 and in the 13 years
we spent together, about 20 young ladies floated in
and out of this group.

Watching my ten little 5-year-olds (including one with physical challenges) grow up that first year was a joy.  Each year brought new adventures and memories that were often touching, often hysterical and always rewarding.  Having been bitten by the bug, I couldn't just leave it at leading my troop.  Troops are organized into communities called Service Units (in my area, service units are most often your actual community too).  These "SU's" are run by volunteers trained in specific tasks by the local Girl Scout Council.  I started my career with the service unit as the troop organizer for my school, recruiting other leaders to start up new or take over existing troops and organizing the girls into these troops.  I ran or helped to run local events like our annual International Night.  Eventually I became a co-leader of the service unit which had, at the time, more than 50 troops of hundreds of girls.  Helping other leaders help girls find their passions and begin to realize their potential was tremendously satisfying.

My Girl Scout resume increased to include Trainer (my favorite thing to do), delegate to Council meetings, delegate to National Council Sessions and various and sundry other odd jobs that it has been my joy to do over the years--18 years I think.

What do I get out of all this time spent?  I'm privileged to watch some really cool young ladies grow up.  I'm there to see the kernels of their ideas become big successful projects and watch them realize they can tackle just about anything from planning a trip and budgeting to educating their peers on issues that are important to them.  I've met so many adults along the way who've inspired and taught me a thing or twenty.  Some of these folks I now count among my dearest friends.  I've been able to travel on behalf of my Council, something for which I'm very grateful.  I've become accustomed to public speaking (and I'm not terrible at it).  I get to exercise my creativity muscles and practice my outdoor skills.  I try to stay organized (never batting 1000 there).

Spending time with young people keeps me young.  I've learned to like a lot of what they like--things I'd never have given a chance without their enthusiastic chatter (like Taylor Swift and One Direction) and admit to not totally appreciating other things (the Twilight and Hunger Games series).  The small bits of time I give to my church these days feed my soul and renew my spirit.

I've learned that even when I've had a long day at work and it seems like going home and slipping into yoga pants and a hoodie feels right and driving somewhere for a meeting feels like a chore, there is much more satisfaction in making the drive, keeping the appointment and lending some help if I can.  Yes, I get grumpy sometimes--the last two weeks, for example, have been overloaded with obligations.  Years ago I learned that balance is key to preventing burn out and I try to limit the number of nights I spend in volunteer work.  Every so often, my schedule gets out of control (8 Girl Scout meetings of every variety in 10 days was a bit much even for me) but I just have to regroup, pay attention and look in the mirror and practice saying, "I'm terribly sorry but my schedule is already overcrowded this week."

I wish everyone could enjoy this feeling--it can be a real high knowing that you're making a difference in your community.  And the truth is--everyone can.  There are thousands of organizations that need our help and everyone has something to offer.  I promise:  you'll get way more out of than you'll realize at the time.  You are needed.

Summertime on Main Street

Oh hey, Jamie McLean!  I'm borrowing your song title.  It's really your own fault:  I've had Summertime on Main Street in my head all week ....

Just about the 4th of July
Trying to beat the heat of the summertime
Ain’t got summer school
Sit beneath the shade of a tree
Trying to keep cool

Waiting on the ice cream man
Working on my summer tan
Going for a bicycle ride
Crusing into town
Ain’t got nothing but time 

I live 45 minutes west of New York City in a smallish town.  Close enough to be in "The City" for theater, music, art, food and adventures of all sorts whenever I like (or can afford) but far enough away that my 7-minute commute to work has me passing a field of sheep, another with Black Angus steer and donkeys, three coffee shops and my my beloved river.  We have a small-town mindset here.  Everyone knows everyone.  Everyone helps everyone.  There is a huge spirit of volunteerism and community here.  We're not in the sticks by any means (witness Starbucks, more sushi per capita than most places, a couple of celebrity residents, great restaurants, shopping, wonderful schools, etc.)  We've been here for 100 years.  This year.  Our anniversary.

And it’s summertime on Main Street 

We got sweet tea and lemonade 

And it’s summertime on Main Street 

We got flags and big parades 

Today's parade to celebrate the first 100 years of Denville's history was the largest this town has ever seen.  We have two parades a year here.  One for Memorial Day (on Memorial Day I might add) and one the Sunday of Thanksgiving Weekend, our small-town version of Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade.  Today there were multiple bands, lots of home-grown floats, every civic organization represented, every faith community, sports teams, Girl Scouts, Boy Scouts, our elected officials, dance schools, veterans, Miss Denville and firefighters.  It stepped off around 2 PM and I didn't get home until after 5:00.

Girl Scouts take part in all parades in this town.  It's taken for granted that we'll be there in uniform on Memorial Day and in cute costumes representing whatever the theme the Chamber of Commerce choose for that year in the Holiday Parade.  We look forward to these events and our chance to participate in the life of our town as well as show our community spirit.  Today we were in uniform once again, carrying a rainbow of signs that indicated the various types of community service the girls have performed over the years.  Girl Scouts celebrated its 100th anniversary last year; we are one year older than our town.

It was a beautiful day for a parade.  Kind of hot but not really humid, bright blue sky.  Really pretty perfect.  I walked the mile and a half to the start of the parade to meet my troop and the rest of the Girl Scout community.  Lining up participants in a parade this large is a logistical feat; they had everyone arrive early and checked and double-checked lists and line-up orders.  We were packed in down a sidestreet for nearly 2 hours before it was our section's turn to go.  We were behind the Denville String Band (local mummers--so much fun), the Sunshine Rotary Club's huge float, the Denville Monopoly Game crew (don't ask; long story) and immediately behind us was a fife and drum group.  While we waited we could see old cars, the town crier (yes, we have a town crier) and the Shriners and their tiny cars.  One of the car groups included a hearse from the '50's that was rigged with a jukebox that played oldies.  Small town.

We walked from one side of town to the other, down Main Street, passing through downtown where the crowds on the sides of the road were the heaviest.  The reviewing stand held the mayor and town council and an announcer who spoke about each group as they passed by.  Two ladder trucks from the fire department were on each side of the road with ladders raised, forming an arch from which an American flag was flying.  We all passed under it and I have to say, I was pretty emotional there.  Eventually we wound up at the ball fields and the girls were met by their parents.  We were in group two out of six parade sections in total so I walked back toward town to watch the rest of our home grown, small-town parade.

The folks from Rock Ridge Lake had built a float on a flat bed truck that included a little girl in a kiddy pool, splashing around under a bunch of trees with a cool band playing.  Behind them marched more Rock Ridge members carrying lawn chairs and doing a well-choreographed drill.  Pretty cool.  Pipe bands, Irish step dancers (they looked hot--sweaty hot--in their wigs and woolen dresses), a small drum corps.  There was a shepherd--no kidding--a shepherd--with border collies herding sheep down the street.  Small town.

Christian Drama Club passed by (always carrying a huge cross; sometimes I wish they could demonstrate some other parts of the story like teaching and healing).  The Camero club was there with shiny cameros, old and new.  The Wells Fargo Bank had a stagecoach with not-quite-Clydesdales.  The Red Cross Emergency Assistance vehicle was there.  I felt the tears come again at that moment as I remembered them driving through our neighborhood every day for weeks after Hurricane Irene, handing out free meals for residents and the people who were laboring to help us clean and rehabilitate our homes.  Small town.

Today was a beautiful celebration of everything we love about living here.  We are blessed with a gorgeous place in which to live, neighbors who have each other's backs in bad times and will celebrate the night away with you in good times, old folks with a lifetime of stories to tell and young people who give us a glimpse of a bright future here.

 I can see the water from here
Gonna dive right in gonna disappear
They could send a cavalry
Ain’t no way in the world they gonna find me

Gonna grab my fishing pole
Goin to my fishing hole
Catch one 3 feet wide
Skin it back, fry it up, cook it for suppertime 

People do fish here every day.  There's always more than one guy catching his dinner in the rivers, ponds and lakes I walk by.  The next night those same folks might be out for dinner at Thatcher McGee's or the Heritage Grill.  Small town options.  Small town blessings.  We are so very rich here.

And it’s summertime on Main Street
We got sweet tea and lemonade
And it’s summertime on Main Street
We got flags and big parades

PS  Thank you Jamie McLean Band.  You know my life has a pretty great soundtrack these days and you're a frequent performer in it.

Jamie McLean Band:  Summertime on Main Street  Listen to it; if you live in a small town, you'll love it.  If you don't live in a small town, you'll wish you did.

Love Stories

It's still Valentine's Day for another hour.  The past 24 hours have me thinking about all the ways love manifests itself in my life.  I posted an outline of my thoughts on facebook tonight.  I hope my friends forgive the way I treat facebook like a blog sometimes.  This is probably a more appropriate forum for the ramblings that seem to continually clutter my head.

It all started, really, with Gavin DeGraw but that's another story for another time.  It could be it's own book, I think.  If you don't know who he is, search for him--not on Google but on YouTube. The last 24 hours started with a song he co-wrote for the movie Safe Haven which opened tonight.  Now pay attention, my stream of consciousness is taking over and it might not be entirely clear ...

Safe Haven is based on the book of the same name by Nicholas Sparks.  AMC Theatres ran a double feature of the famous Sparks film The Notebook plus Safe Haven last night.  I read the book (Safe Haven) because of the song--that motivation will be examined at a later date, as I said.  I'd never seen The Notebook but I was anxious to see Safe Haven so I bought a ticket for last night.  I've avoided The Notebook all these years because I knew it was extreme romance--romantic love on steroids.  True love like I didn't experience.  I couldn't see it because I didn't want to face some truths in my life.  But the last year of journeying along with the ebbing and flowing of my river taught me to face the those things I couldn't face the last 15 years and one of the gifts that the music (the Gavin DeGraw music) has given me is hope that there might exist a possibility of letting love back in.  Some day.  Some time.  Maybe.

So the last 24 hours started with a double feature with a double lesson:  true love does exist and there are second chances.  Now I've had examples of true love all around me (my mom and dad being the prime example) but when your own fairy tale ends not with the prince in the castle but with your being thrown in the moat, it takes a while to believe again.  When a relationship ends with words that play over and over like tortuous crappy music on repeat, you start believing them and doubt begins to rule your life.  The stories I enjoyed last night, while fiction, were like affirmations of truth I may have known all along but buried during the last 15 years.  So Valentine's Day started with love lessons.

Valentine's Day at work is usually fun and this year was no exception.  I work in an elementary school so there are parties.  And cards.  And cupcakes, brownies and chocolate covered strawberries.  We had all that in abundance today.  Small children and innocent expressions of precious friendship.  A  reminder that love can be sweet.

After work I attended a rally to urge politicians and leaders to stand up against gun violence.  The Have a Heart-Take a Stand rally.  There were speakers--local mayors who've banded together because they are tired of the devastation in their communities, because they realize Newtown can happen anywhere--prayers and music, people with signs and petitions.  It was heartfelt and passionate.  A group of strangers bonded together by outrage and sickness at the thought that 33 gun deaths happen each day.  Every day people lose someone they love because of guns. A group of strangers bonded by a belief that ultimately, love will win over violence if our leaders will have the courage to stand against the selfishness of the gun lobby.  Outraged love.

From the rally I drove to our local Girl Scout office.  I was recently appointed to the Gold Award committee in our council.  That's the highest award a girl can achieve in our movement to "build girls of courage, confidence and character who make the world a better place."  Tonight we had four girls from 9th to 11th grades proposing final projects to earn their Gold Award.  These ranged from projects to benefit soldiers on a base in Afghanistan to helping children making their First Communion in Hurricane Sandy-ravaged South Jersey.  They were young leaders in their neighborhoods and schools who were passionate about local hunger issues, relieving stress in pediatric cancer patients through art therapy, marking spiritual commitment and international relations.  They were inspiring in what they've accomplished so far in their young lives--excellent students, presidents of organizations, active in their faith communities, good communicators, highly organized, poised for success.  Girls who cared about their neighbors, towns and those less fortunate.  Generosity in love.  Love and leadership in action.

Arriving home at 9:30, I brought in the mail.  Among the envelopes of mostly junk were two cards from my daughter.  Late birthday cards with Valentine messages hand written in.  Small treasures.  Tokens of her love to be loved and treasured by me.  Also tucked in my mailbox was a rice krispy treat--a heart-shaped rice krispy treat, in fact.  Someone obviously read my facebook post from this morning pleading for a rice krispy treat to arrive amidst the other sugary treats passing through my office.  I think I know who put that treat there.  It was further proof that I have a wonderful community of friends who form the backbone of my life.  Love in my mailbox.

My "24 hours of love" day started with a song by Gavin DeGraw that led to my reading a book that led to my seeing a film last night.  So it's only appropriate that these 24 hours end with Gavin DeGraw.  He and the musician/friend with whom he co-wrote the song, Colbie Caillat, sang the song on vh1's morning show this morning.  I just watched the tape of their performance.  The song channels the themes of finding a second chance for love and overcoming one's past from Nicholas Sparks' Safe Haven into lyrics and music.  They'll sing it again, a few minutes from now as I write this, on the Tonight Show.  I'll be singing along.

"We Both Know"
(Gavin DeGraw with Colbie Caillat)

They all say it
All the ones that made it
Once you find the one you claim it
But you're gonna have to fight
When I think back
The things that threw us off track
We handled like a heart attack
Cause we didn't see the light
Oh, yeah, now
We both, know our
Own limitations, that's why we're strong
Now that we spent some time apart
We're leading each other, out of the dark
Cause we both know

From this moment
Forget what we were scared of
Say we're never giving up
You say you'll always
Try to be my
Helping hand
Try to be the one who understands
When things don't go as you've planned
We're still worth it all

Oh, yeah, now...
We both, know our
Own limitations, that's why we're strong
Now that we've spent some time apart
We're leading each other, out of the dark
Cause we both know
What we're scared of
And what dreams are made of 
They can take us further than what anybody can see, yeah
We both, know our
Own limitations, and that's why we're strong
Now that we've spent some time apart
We're leading each other, out of the dark

We both know our
Own limitations, and that's why we're strong
Now that we've spent some time apart
We're leading each other, out of the dark
Cause we both know

We both know.