Opportunity Knocks

Yesterday evening I took my ginger cake (mmm mmm good!) and headed up to Basin for a pot luck to welcome the newest batch of artists at the Montana Artists Refuge. What a great group of people! There is a young poet/writer in his 20s, two artists from Australia, a jazz singer/songwriter from Brooklyn & Arizona, and a watercolorist from Pennsylvania. I had the chance to visit with most of them, as well as the friends and supporters of MAR.

During the first part of the evening, one of the founders of MAR came and invited me to be on their Board. Wow. I feel truly honored. MAR is in the process of transitioning into its next phase as an organization – and to be invited to be part of that is quite amazing. I told her that I’d like to give it some thought, as I’ll be starting school in August and I’m just not sure how much of my time will be available. But, I do want it to be.

It’s just before 5am right now, and outside my eastern windows the sky is lightening into a soft gray, wisps of clouds float above the Ridge. Birds have been singing out the past half hour, calling the dawn. It’s in the low 30s out there – the windows are lightly frosted as the warmer air in the apartment meets the cold air outside. I glance out, pause, and wait for the sun to rise.

Last night, on the way back to Butte, we stopped – in absolute awe of what was. The snow on the Highlands int he south were shining out with the last light of the sun, the hills of the east were glowing. I walked along the highway, pulled toward the distant mountains, tears in my eyes at the blessing of being here to witness and partake of this place. A bit further down the road, we stopped again to watch the sun set above the Pintlers. I don’t get to see those western mountains as often – its not in the view of my apartment – and so they seem more like strangers to me.

I watched the sun sink down, the clouds begin to light up, the mountains shining with pinks and blues, the lights of the city below me began to twinkle, and again I was awed. Again the tears welled up. I don’t ever want to forget to truly stop and take in the grandeur of the landscape that I am living in the midst of. I don’t want to busy myself so much that I lose the pleasure of each new day.

My friend was explaining all the benefits that MAR would reap from my presence – and I do agree. They were also explaining all the benefits that they received from being involved. And that gave me pause. Over the past five years or so, I’ve become quite clear about the benefits that I bring to the table, whether to an organization, a friendship, a relationship. But I haven’t been as clear about understanding – ahead of time – what the benefits might be to me.

There’s no question, that any experience can and will be of benefit in some way. That’s just life. This morning I’m wondering if the benefit to me can be more intentional, more pre-planned, more clear ahead of time so that I know what I’m working towards not just for the organization, but for me as well. It’s a new way of thinking for me. I’ve been ‘going with the flow’ of opportunity for so long – peering into open doors and windows to see if they’re interesting and following through with the ones that seem to be the right next step.

Maybe it’s this new sense of feeling at home … feeling that this is a place where I might take root and grow deeper, stronger, more open. Maybe that contributes to this sense of deliberateness. I wrote, last evening, to the woman who invited me. I quoted my friend, who considers MAR to be a gem – and I explained that i want to consider carefully before becoming involved with something so precious. I want to enter lightly and joyfully, but not frivolously. I want this to be a benefit to all.