Walking the River

Every year I am dazzled by the autumn views along the Silverado Trail.  Breathtaking, awesome, splendiferous, are words that come to mind.  The gold, scarlet and green, with the late afternoon sun glowing through the vines bring a surge of gratitude to be able to live in this valley.  In November I was on my way to Rutherford for a special opportunity to get up close and personal with the Napa River.  As I drove north on the Silverado Trail, marveling at said vines and views, I realized that many of our visitors may not even be aware that the Napa River meanders this far north through the valley.  Gazing out over the vineyards the river is hidden; one might think the land just stretches solid and flat, straight across from the Vaca Mountains in the east to the Mayacamas in the west.  But down in its well worn trench, crossed by our historic stone bridges is the artery of life as we know it in our famous Napa Valley.

In our history the river was used for its bounty of stone for buildings, dredging the rocks which left too sandy a bottom for the natural habitat of salmon and trout.  The flow of the river has been controlled by building up the banks to protect one property, only to send it flowing too high to another; and so it goes as we worked with and against our Napa River.  I believe that for centuries the people living and thriving in the Napa Valley have held the Napa River close to their hearts and fortunately, we learn from our mistakes.  People will take a stand to repair and restore what seemed like a good idea at the time.

Since 1994 the Rutherford Dust Society has stood firmly committed “to encourage and promote the highest quality standards in grape growing and winemaking in the Rutherford Viticultural Area.”  (www.RutherfordDust.org)  In 2002 a subcommittee of the Society was formed to initiate a plan to manage and restore the Napa River that is so vital to their land and community: the Rutherford Dust (Napa River) Restoration Team, RDRT, or think of it as “our dirt”!  The restoration project will manage and restore the 4.5 mile stretch of the Napa River and its watershed between the Zinfandel Lane Bridge and Oakville Cross Road.  RDRT has successfully pioneered an innovative partnership with Napa County to realize this vision.  With over five years of detailed engineering and ecological studies the project construction commenced with Phase I in July of this year.  The team is chaired by Rutherford Dust Society board member, Davie Piña of Piña Vineyard Management, LLC and includes over twenty five riverside property owners.  The project is coordinated by leadership from Napa County, the Napa County Resource Conservation District, and Napa County Water Conservation.  To review the details of the project please visit the project website at:  http://www.napawatersheds.org/Content/10027/Rutherford_Dust_Society_Project.html

For my “river walk” experience I met with Gretchen Hayes, of Tessera Watershed Partners, and facilitator of the RDRT team.  Gretchen’s professional title is “Geomorphologist”; geo = earth, morph = change, and “ology” being the study of such.  Studying the changes in the earth and bringing her expertise to monitor the flow and erosion of our Napa River.  Gretchen represents the folks I admire that get right down in the dirt of our land to figure out how to support nature and give back what we have taken away.

I wriggled into big rubber waders, cinched them up to my chest and followed Gretchen down the bank to a section of river.  Our objective was to be able to walk right into the river and be surrounded by the trees, bushes, rocks, gravel, birds and critters that make their home along the banks.  I learned that a river “pools, riffles and glides”.  Create in your mind the meandering line of the river, as the water pushes through a gravel bank (a riffle) and then rushes into an open space (a pool) then gently glides to the next riffle.  “Pool, riffle and glide” sounds like a graceful dance step doesn’t it?

The section of river that we explored exhibited how the river banks have eroded below the land surface, down 15 to 20 feet.  Great oak and willow trees, root systems exposed will inevitably break away and fall into the river.   “LWD” was pointed out to me: “large, woody debris”; tree trunks, stumps and limbs as we know them.  These logs, pushed to the side, form a new extended bank and eventually become a beneficial habitat for fish and wildlife.  If needed the restoration team will introduce logs into the river for this purpose to aid the flow of the river.

We’ll have more salmon swimming and spawning and flourishing in our river!  There are many ripples winding around the gravel banks, providing the perfect environment for spawning.  As the Rutherford Dust Napa River Restoration advances there is a plan for a salmon ladder at the Zinfandel Bridge.  Our Napa River, often chided for being sluggish, will be brought back to a thriving natural habitat for wildlife and our community.

Most areas of the river are on private property, and not accessible for the public.  Therefore, I encourage everyone with a curiosity and love of our Napa River to contact the Napa County Resource Conservation District to participate in their programs that bring people to the river throughout the year.  Visit: http://www.naparcd.org/programs.html or call the Napa County RCD at 707-252-4188 x100.

Handsome Kenya Man

In December of 2006 I traveled to East Africa with forty women from the U.S. and Canada, guided by a non-profit organization based in Northern California that works to fund humanitarian projects in Uganda, Kenya and Tanzania.  After the first week of visiting villages and projects, we were headed to a women’s conference in Bondo, Kenya where we would be joining 450 rural African women to listen to their issues of health and welfare and to celebrate an international gathering of women.

We were traveling in an ancient school bus, bumping and grinding towards Bondo. My favorite saying from the trip is that when old school busses die they go to Africa and live on forever. It was raining again and the dirt roads were ruts turned to rivulets of caramel-colored mud.  To us the bus drivers were heroic and crazy at the same time.  We were giddy in the paradox of our trust and fear of their driving as we held on, bouncing, teeth and bones hammering up and down.  I kept thinking if I could just sit a certain way, maybe tilt to one side or something, then on the next big bump I might get a good chiropractic adjustment.  We turned off the main road and pulled through sort of a “business district” of a rural village.  I didn’t know why the change of direction and didn’t ask.  I was sitting alone at this time, content to be a silent observer surrounded by the rows of jubilant women.  I had never been this far away from home. I had never been in so different a country and culture.  I knew on this trip that I would mostly observe, just take it all in and learn.  I have never had my eyes feel so wide open and my mouth, uncommonly shut.  I experienced being in the present all day, every day and night for fourteen days.  To make judgments, to try to fit people, places and things into my previous categories or definitions was futile and really a waste of mental and spiritual energy.  Presently, the reason for the stop seemed to be on the opposite side of where I sat on the bus.  I supposed a problem with the tire; but I think it was just to fill up with gas.  Our driver stepped out of the bus and as is customary, the villagers gathered around to help.  Unconcerned, I turned my attention to the activity outside my window.

The rural business districts are often just two or three small, wooden shacks, the first buildings just off the side of a road.  It was hard to comprehend that these were places of business; retail or maybe a service.  These buildings were dull, gray wood with sagging porches, windows without glass, doors dangling from hinges. One shack appeared to be a store selling clothing with shirts, caftans and t-shirts hung across the front on wire hangers.  Women were sitting on the porch, heads wrapped in their native, vibrant colored fabric and dressed in plain “Western” attire of skirts, blouses and broken shoes.  Out in front of the stores, young men fussed over rickety bicycles and children played with plastic containers in the mud.  When I think of the African people we met and spent time with, I remember their warmth and generosity; how they would always give us something and embrace us over and over.  There were always women, children and some young men waving and smiling as we drove along.  But, also, there were always young and older men, who kept their distance and didn’t smile or wave.  Often they seemed to size us up and held our gaze with looks of disdain or mocking us. I knew the men lacked jobs and work and mostly just hung around on porches, roadsides and in cafes.  If I flip-side and stand in their broken shoes in the mud, wouldn’t I see a lot of well-fed, visiting white women with good intentions but no real sense of what this African life is all about?  Wouldn’t it hurt their inherent, human pride to have us see them in their present fate?  Not one person that I met on this trip was dull or stupid.  No one is immune to feeling shame. And then I took notice of one young man among the others.

Usually everyone in the bus was waving, calling out to children, smiling and talking to anyone and everyone.  But it was rainy, wet and muddy, so this time we didn’t tumble out of the bus to shake hands, do some shopping or play with the kids. We had several Kenyan women on the bus this time, bound for the conference, so everyone was engaged with each other. And so, for some reason, none of the other women were taking in this scene on my side of the bus. It seemed it was just me looking at the Kenya man.

I made lots of assumptions as this young man turned and staggered a bit.  I assumed he was in his early twenties and from his beverage concealed in a crumpled, brown paper bag, I assumed it was the universal symbol of alcohol abuse.  Then he looked at me looking out my window at him and he decided to approach our bus.

He sidled up under my window, smiling in what I presumed as devilish, and spoke to me in Swahili.  I also assumed he would speak in English, at least a few words. Most children make it to some primary school and learn English from the start; English being considered the first language, with Swahili the second.  But this young man was not offering any English, and I know very few Swahili words.

He was lean and handsome, as many Kenyan men are.  They have beautiful, wide smiles and eyes.  But this man’s right eye was damaged; cloudy, milky, scarred and off center.  I mentally analyzed his fate, “He’s disfigured, maybe not so handsome to some, no work, dejected, so he drinks. And there is an air of cynicism and maybe a bit sinister too.”  Being a good white lady from America, I politely kept eye contact with him and gave a smile.  I was not going to insult him by turning away, and I was drawn in and curious.

As he smiled languidly, posturing back and forth under the window, he continued to speak to me, I think sort of asking questions, sort of making remarks.  I smiled back, nodded, didn’t really know what to say or how to say anything.  Then, from the seat behind me, one of the young Kenyan women rose up and leaned over my shoulder to see who was there.  The young woman’s name is Julie; she’s about thirty years old and married with children.  She works with a village outreach program near Bondo, Kenya.  She is brilliant and committed to making changes to better the lives of women and children.  I had enjoyed talking with her earlier, listening to her beautiful command of English.  She is playful, also driven and direct, and now she had a few words for the young man outside my window.  She came around to my seat and half-stood with her knee on the seat, leaning beside and over me, craning to address him.

“Jambo…aye”, she started out in Swahili.  He looked up at her with a coy smile.  Then they began their exchange in Swahili, over my head, back and forth.  She asked him questions; he countered with brazen smiles and challenged her in return with sarcastic tones.  They ignored me.  She talked for awhile, him nodding or shaking his head.  He’d look at her, and then look away, sort of squirming with shoulders twisting in uneasiness.  She continued to speak; not sounding as if it were a stern lecture, but firmly conveying information that he alternately listened to intently and then he’d break away with sly smiles or what appeared to be flippant answers.  She pressed on with him, and he didn’t turn and walk away.  I sat, elbow on window frame, supporting my chin, with my mouth pressed into my hand, an attempt to look nonchalant, not taking sides, not butting in.  When either of them glanced at me, I felt they accepted that I was “in” on the conversation.  I didn’t know what Julie was saying to this man.  I had assumptions, maybe a gist of the conversation.  I figured at any moment he would just walk away from her, but he didn’t.  Then I watched as something unexpected happened.  He rubbed his hand over his face, as you do when trying to rub off sleep or confusion.  As he dropped his hand from his face, he straightened up, squared his shoulders and then looked directly at Julie.  With a respectful tone he said, in English, “I understand”.  She smiled and nodded.  He nodded and repeated, “I understand”.  Then he turned and walked away, back to the group of people near the shack.

I looked up at Julie, and she down at me.  She sat down next to me and I asked her what she had said to him.  “I told him to stop drinking,” she said.  We just looked at each other for a moment.  I didn’t need to ask for more.  I understood.  Her words and her intention sunk into me, as they had sunk into the young man outside my window.

Our bus was rocking again, jostling everyone again, slogging through the mud and pulling away from the village and back onto the road.  Now all the others turned in their seats and waved out the windows.  Julie returned to her friends behind us.  A powerful, emotional, but fleeting moment had passed and we were on our way again.  As I sat alone, contemplating and absorbing what I had witnessed, my heart swelled with love.  Love for Julie, for the Kenyan women and their pride, determination and commitment to family and community.  I have lots of stories to tell, and photos to share, from my trip to Africa. But while there or upon my return, I didn’t tell this story right away.  I was unsure of my feelings surrounding the story.  It was a private and intimate encounter suspended in its short duration of time.  It seemed to be a particularly personal story.  At first I thought, not personal to me exactly, but at the heart of it, it did indeed affect me.  I was witness to a spontaneous but intimate exchange between two strangers, and I sat right in the middle of it. I felt honored to be in their presence and to have shared this incident with Julie and the handsome Kenya man.

Impossible Blue

In this one you are showing me off to Mom and the camera.  You are so proud to have me, your chubby little toddler, stuffed securely in your backpack, ready to roll, bouncing along on your shoulders.

I don’t remember being that small up at Donner Lake.  But I remember several summer vacations there, after that.  The Sierra Club lodge; so old, with heavy wooden beams across an enormous dining hall.  Pancakes and strangers; sharing breakfast with other families.

I go to Donner Lake every summer now, with my loving, comfortable husband.   Just coming over the grade, the first glimpse of the impossibly blue lake, shimmering and welcoming, is my thrill.  Donner Lake, the mountains, the pine trees, the sandy families all over the place – this is another home of mine.  Here I breathe better, my skin feels better.  We brought you back with us in 2004 and in this photo you are frail and old; 90 years old, sitting on the lakeshore, not splashing in the water with me.  But watching me, and I’m still calling, “Daddy, look at me! Watch this!”

The lake is the same, our rolls are reversed.  I make sure you are secure in your chair; I shake the sand from your shoes.  But even with this twist of time it feels the same.  Your bright blue eyes reflect the shimmer of the lake.  Your smile is wide, as wide as in old photos.  Somehow you do still carry my on your back. – August 2007

Success from the Heart – The Heart of the Mendocino Coast, Part 1

I’ve visited the Mendocino coast nearly every year; as far back as I can remember.  My dad was passionate about the Northern California

Village of Mendocino, CA

coast and the rugged shores of Mendocino.  We headed there on summer road trips, to brave the bracing winds and stinging-cold water and watch my mom comb the beaches for shells and pretty pieces of glass.   In my early adolescence I became fascinated with the bohemian lifestyle of the village of Mendocino: a grocery store in an old church, charming bookstores in funky water towers, and colorful people and their artwork all over town.

This year I traveled to the Mendocino coast again as I planned and assisted the Mendocino Coast Chamber of Commerce with a press trip for travel writers.  I was meeting and working and getting to know a few people who live and work in Mendocino and Fort Bragg.   As I listened to them I somehow began to sense what it feels like to live there.  I could feel how different and unique it is to dwell on this coastal edge; edging up against the rocky beaches, cold and windy days, forest roads and rural living.

It’s not completely easy to live on the Mendocino coast.  The town of Fort Bragg, the village of Mendocino and a few small hamlets along Hwy 1 are on their own for providing all of the modern conveniences that we, in the 21^st century, take for granted.  Cell phone service is limited, having just landed in Mendocino about two years ago; still, most likely, you have to duck around a corner, or go outside on your porch to pick up a signal.   There are not a lot of choices for employment; working and making a living takes creativity and diligence.

Between a geologist and a water witch

View from Stagecoach Vineyards

Yesterday I had the greatest pleasure to visit Stagecoach Vineyards; way up the hillside of Soda Canyon Road.  From the office of Krupp Brothers Estate vineyards, you can see across their property to the top of the mountain side, where 500 acres of Stagecoach vineyards are planted.  This is high-elevation, hot, rugged landscape.   Jan Krupp had a marvelous vision…a person that wants to take his vision all the way.  The land he set his sights on had no known source of water, no roads to the area, and what it had most were huge rocks and thin, rocky soil.  It didn’t seem feasible, or even possible.  Why go there?

I have only heard Jan talk of this vision briefly, but I today I am still pondering with fascination the drive and perseverance that he and his partners put forth to realize this vision.   And the water was found…first, a geologist marked out five areas where water might be, but concluded it was too far to drill…concluded it “couldn’t be done”.   Then a water witch was consulted and yes, there was water, in the area of the marks of the geologist and probably 350 feet underground.  The Krupp’s drilled and got their water.  Today we enjoy the remarkable cabernet sauvignon they have produced…and more. The grapes of Stagecoach vineyards have produced award winning wines for over 50 wineries in the Napa Valley.  http://www.stagecoachvineyard.com/

I conclude that from here forward, when I think “it can’t be done” or my faith is waning, I will summon my new mantra:   “somewhere between a geologist and a water witch” and I’ll give it another go.

Please indulge yourself and explore the wines of Krupp Brothers,  http://www.kruppbrothersestates.com/home.htm

What about the “witch”??  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dowsing

Intriguing, yes?

Roll and stroll through Hercules, CA

A couple of friends and I have a joke about how you can take San Pablo Avenue all the way to Los Angeles.  Of course in truth it starts at the top of Contra Costa County and runs through all the cities along the San Pablo Bay, ending just a few blocks west of Lake Merritt in Oakland.  That’s two counties anyway, and an impressive stretch of boulevard connecting our historic Bayfront towns. For driving north

Blend of old and new architecture

and south, I’m using San Pablo Avenue more often, rather than put up with the massive transit on Interstate 80.  Along the way I’ve discovered how this thoroughfare, which in fact is the historic and scenic Highway 40, is evolving with its well-defined bike lane, offering alternatives to being caged in our cars.

Along San Pablo Avenue in the city of Hercules, there are signs naming the bike lane, the “I-80 Bikeway”.  I love how that label seems to give more credibility to this alternative to commute transportation.  And the bike path through Hercules is safe and scenic; getting to school or work, or running simple errands can be pretty convenient throughout this city.  The Contra Costa Transit Authority has released a draft update of the Contra Costa Countywide Bicycle and Pedestrian Plan.  Public workshops were held in June to engage the community in expanding the opportunities of bicycle transportation throughout the county.  More information is available on the City of Hercules website:  http://www.ci.hercules.ca.us/index.aspx.  As stated on the site, “If you are interested in the process and would like to read the draft plan or the previous Issues and Options Report, visit the Contra Costa Transit Authority website on the update to the Countywide Bicycle and Pedestrian Plan at: http://www.ccta.net/EN/main/bike/cbpp.html.”

I have to say that the urban design of Hercules has made this city very bike and walking friendly; eco-friendly indeed!  When it’s time for a leisurely bike ride or stroll I recommend exploring the up and coming Sycamore Downtown district. At the junction of Sycamore and Railroad Avenues you’ll find a charismatic blend of old and new architecture.  From Railroad Avenue turn onto Santa Fe Avenue where the newer neighborhoods circle around to embrace the historic homes of Bay Avenue, Pinole Street and Talley Way.  Throughout the Sycamore area, the new architecture purposely invokes the feel of “small town America” with the inviting porches and “gingerbread” décor of over a century ago.   The urban design of connecting neighborhoods encourages people to walk about to shops and restaurants and enjoy the wide-open view of the San Pablo Bay.  While exploring on a weekday I saw several people walking their dogs, or on lunch-hour jogs, and kids making their way back home off the big boulevards through paved pathways into their neighborhoods.  Off the concrete sidewalks, you can make your way along the more rustic Railroad Avenue path all the way to neighboring Pinole with a continuous view of the San Pablo Regional Shoreline.

Parks and open space take up about one-third of the terrain in the city of Hercules; a generous portion to consider if the urban sprawl of the Bay Area has one concerned.  In the middle of Hercules is one of the prettiest city parks I’ve had the pleasure to dwell in:  Refugio Valley Park, located at junction of Refugio Valley Road and Sycamore Street.  With over sixty six acres, the park beckons with spacious lawns, unique and captivating sculpture gardens, sparkling water fountains and a calming lake complete with lazy swans a-swimming.  It’s the perfect place to get away on your lunch hour; but beware, I’m sure it’s going to be hard to return to the office!

A Hop and a Skip

I’ve been pretty quiet for the last month or so..blogwise.  There are several tweaks and turns I’ve had to make in my day to day life.  Kind of like our odd Napa Valley weather this summer; not what we expect.  “Should be”  warmer now;  why the cloudy mornings?  Life, weather and our minds…who knows what’s in store for us?

I’ve taken on a fun little summer job; check out  www.NVHoppers.com and my photo..

Anyway, for your viewing/reading entertainment I thought I’d mention a blog that I am enjoying these days.

www.ZenHabits.com by Leo Babauta.  As mentioned about the tweaking and turning, his wisdom and writing has given me a place to touch down again.

More to come…as the old song sez,  “Summertime and the livin’ is easy…” ;  if that’s what you choose.  =)

Connecting with Butterflies – Carole Peccorini’s Success from the Heart

I interviewed Carole Peccorini in April of 2008.  Since then The Butterfly Project has raised over half of her goal of $60,000 to fund the college education of Uganda girls.  The Butterfly Project works in collaboration with Village Volunteers, a non-profit organization that works in partnership with rural village and capacity-building programs to support the development of sustainable solutions for

Carole Peccorini and Evaline, Uganda

community survival, education, and growth.  www.VillageVolunteers.org

Carole Peccorini was my first inspiration to create interviews with people that are working and living from their hearts.  Whether making tons of money or not, it is truly Success from the Heart.  www.TheButterflyProject.com

1.         For your first trip to Uganda, how did you “get the nerve” to go to Africa?

Since childhood I have had a longing and connection with Africa.  My heroes are Albert Schweitzer, Jane Goodall with the chimps, Diane Fossey with the gorillas and the Leakeys searching for the oldest human remains in the Oldavi Gorge. I just love all of the wildlife and the new knowledge based on their long-term research and discoveries.  Over a ten to fifteen year period  I probably read every book they published about Africa.  So it was already in me; a sense and longing that got ignited.  It seemed to be my destiny.

The trip to Uganda in 2005 was with MannaRelief, a non profit program of a biotech nutraceutical company called Mannatech.   I have an independent business with Mannatech.  MannaRelief is devoted to children, providing vital nutrients to the orphans in the developing world.  Their first team went to Uganda in 2005.  I’ve been a pediatric nurse, with a passion and commitment for children.  I got the email about the pending trip to Uganda just 5 or 6 weeks before they were scheduled to depart.  I talked it over with my friend Leta, who also had a lifelong dream to go to Africa and we just said, “Should we say yes?” and we took the leap!  I didn’t have a clue how to come up with the money, had to clear my calendar and didn’t know how it would all work.  But I knew in my heart it would work.  I had made a commitment to myself that in my 60’s I would have life-opening experiences.  The decision came from my heart.  The majority of time you just do what is reasonable and keep things working.  But sometimes an inner self just knows when to make a leap. I trusted that inner self to say “Yes” to something that was transformational and life-changing.

2.         It was during that trip that The Butterfly Project evolved.  Do you remember a  specific incident that sparked the idea for  The Butterfly Project?

Probably a handful of things.  While there, we met with, Dr. Nsaba Butero, the Minister for Information & Broadcasting, in the Office of the President.  He had a PhD in Social Sciences.  I just loved this man! What he said touched me deeply: “We don’t need charity. We’re not looking for handouts. What we need are partners to solve problems.” This conversation happened early in the trip.  Uganda has amazing bio-rich resources and wonderful people. They need partnerships to develop what they have.  They not only want to solve problems for their people, but to participate in the global economy.

In addition to that experience, we were with the kids, the orphans, teaching them about the nutrients.  I had brought 1200 Blue Morpho butterflies, small replicas, to delight the children.  The butterflies were easy to include in my luggage.  The kids just lit up when they got a butterfly!  It was very joyful.  And then, when I would begin to leave, the kids would always hug us and say, “I love you”. They would also say, “When you go home, please tell everyone I love them.”  They made an extraordinary connection to people everywhere.

And, of course, I met Eveline, a young orphan girl who was very bright and engaging.  I asked about continuing school for her and could she go to the university. I found out from Bob, the orphanage director, that it cost $6000, total, to attend the university.  I said to him, “That’s doable!”  From that point I knew the funds would be there for her to go to college if she chose. And while in Uganda, it was my 62^nd birthday. I met Bette, also an orphan since six.  She had been trained to be a masseuse and as a gift I was given a massage from Bette.  From learning her story and knowing about all the other girls, by then I just knew that I’d send 10 Ugandan girls to college. It was done and complete in my heart.   It was another big “Yes!”

3.         What’s the most daunting hurdle you’ve had to conquer to get The Butterfly Project going or keep it going?

At some point, transformational vision has to move back into the realm of reasonable.  It was about four of five weeks after I returned before I had the name, The Butterfly Project. In that transformational arena, connections and solutions come magically, but I had to go back and forth between practical actions and transformational connections.  The story made the connections.  The biggest hurdle was turning my vision into a non-profit organization, in addition to running my regular business!  It is an arduous process.  Three main things are needed to establish a non-profit that involves another country: it has to be a legal non profit; there have to be people on the ground in Uganda to make it happen; and there has to be a fundraising division.  I partnered with Global Partners for Development to establish the non profit status and I’ve been learning what it takes to bring The Butterfly Project into a mature, sustainable program that works.

4.         What keeps your commitment going?

The fact that the decision came from my heart, from that sense of spirit within me.  It actually feels sacred, like a covenant.  With that it takes the will to get it going and the passion for it and then the results. There are policies to develop, strategic plans to be made and funds to be raised.  Whenever I do a presentation, the magic of the story re-ignites my commitment.  More stories will develop as the girls attend the universities and have opportunities in their lives that will benefit their villages and the world.  This keeps the juice and joy

Carole and kids, Uganda

going; people’s lives being changed and saying “yes”.

5.         Do you have a specific joyous result or incident that has come from The Butterfly Project?

My vision and prayer for what would happen in my 60’s is happening. My life opened and I have new amazing people in my life.  On a personal level, this is a very powerful result.  And my heart leaps for joy for Evaline!  For her progress in school and knowing she will be able to go to university if she chooses. I’ve seen friends’ lives open from the story and this has allowed them to say yes to transformational possibilities in their own lives.  These opening often arrive unplanned and they usually are not reasonable. But then to see it in action is joyful, to see the results ripple out to many.

1. For your first trip to Uganda, how did you “get the nerve” to go to Africa?

Since childhood I have had a longing and connection with Africa. My heroes are Albert Schweitzer, Jane Goodall with the chimps, Diane Fossey with the gorillas and the Leakeys searching for the oldest human remains in the Oldavi Gorge. I just love all of the wildlife and the new knowledge based on their long-term research and discoveries. Over a ten to fifteen year period I probably read every book they published about Africa. So it was already in me; a sense and longing that got ignited. It seemed to be my destiny.

The trip to Uganda in 2005 was with MannaRelief, a non profit program of a biotech nutraceutical company called Mannatech. I have an independent business with Mannatech. MannaRelief is devoted to children, providing vital nutrients to the orphans in the developing world. Their first team went to Uganda in 2005. I’ve been a pediatric nurse, with a passion and commitment for children. I got the email about the pending trip to Uganda just 5 or 6 weeks before they were scheduled to depart. I talked it over with my friend Leta, who also had a lifelong dream to go to Africa and we just said, “Should we say yes?” and we took the leap! I didn’t have a clue how to come up with the money, had to clear my calendar and didn’t know how it would all work. But I knew in my heart it would work. I had made a commitment to myself that in my 60’s I would have life-opening experiences. The decision came from my heart. The majority of time you just do what is reasonable and keep things working. But sometimes an inner self just knows when to make a leap. I trusted that inner self to say “Yes” to something that was transformational and life-changing.

2. It was during that trip that The Butterfly Project evolved. Do you remember a specific incident that sparked the idea for The Butterfly Project?

Probably a handful of things. While there, we met with, Dr. Nsaba Butero, the Minister for Information & Broadcasting, in the Office of the President. He had a PhD in Social Sciences. I just loved this man! What he said touched me deeply: “We don’t need charity. We’re not looking for handouts. What we need are partners to solve problems.” This conversation happened early in the trip. Uganda has amazing bio-rich resources and wonderful people. They need partnerships to develop what they have. They not only want to solve problems for their people, but to participate in the global economy.

In addition to that experience, we were with the kids, the orphans, teaching them about the nutrients. I had brought 1200 Blue Morpho butterflies, small replicas, to delight the children. The butterflies were easy to include in my luggage. The kids just lit up when they got a butterfly! It was very joyful. And then, when I would begin to leave, the kids would always hug us and say, “I love you”. They would also say, “When you go home, please tell everyone I love them.” They made an extraordinary connection to people everywhere.

And, of course, I met Eveline, a young orphan girl who was very bright and engaging. I asked about continuing school for her and could she go to the university. I found out from Bob, the orphanage director, that it cost $6000, total, to attend the university. I said to him, “That’s doable!” From that point I knew the funds would be there for her to go to college if she chose. And while in Uganda, it was my 62^nd birthday. I met Bette, also an orphan since six. She had been trained to be a masseuse and as a gift I was given a massage from Bette. From learning her story and knowing about all the other girls, by then I just knew that I’d send 10 Ugandan girls to college. It was done and complete in my heart. It was another big “Yes!”

3. What’s the most daunting hurdle you’ve had to conquer to get The Butterfly Project going or keep it going?

At some point, transformational vision has to move back into the realm of reasonable. It was about four of five weeks after I returned before I had the name, The Butterfly Project. In that transformational arena, connections and solutions come magically, but I had to go back and forth between practical actions and transformational connections. The story made the connections. The biggest hurdle was turning my vision into a non-profit organization, in addition to running my regular business! It is an arduous process. Three main things are needed to establish a non-profit that involves another country: it has to be a legal non profit; there have to be people on the ground in Uganda to make it happen; and there has to be a fundraising division. I partnered with Global Partners for Development to establish the non profit status and I’ve been learning what it takes to bring The Butterfly Project into a mature, sustainable program that works.

4. What keeps your commitment going?

The fact that the decision came from my heart, from that sense of spirit within me. It actually feels sacred, like a covenant. With that it takes the will to get it going and the passion for it and then the results. There are policies to develop, strategic plans to be made and funds to be raised. Whenever I do a presentation, the magic of the story re-ignites my commitment. More stories will develop as the girls attend the universities and have opportunities in their lives that will benefit their villages and the world. This keeps the juice and joy going; people’s lives being changed and saying “yes”.

5. Do you have a specific joyous result or incident that has come from The Butterfly Project?

My vision and prayer for what would happen in my 60’s is happening. My life opened and I have new amazing people in my life. On a personal level, this is a very powerful result. And my heart leaps for joy for Evaline! For her progress in school and knowing she will be able to go to university if she chooses. I’ve seen friends’ lives open from the story and this has allowed them to say yes to transformational possibilities in their own lives. These opening often arrive unplanned and they usually are not reasonable. But then to see it in action is joyful, to see the results ripple out to many.

Carneros – Wide Open Spaces

Carneros, Napa Valley

Sometimes I feel surrounded by traffic and noise.  All the progress and construction going on in Napa!   Maybe it’s good to just get away from it all, alone in wide open spaces to stretch our legs, our minds and perspectives.  I know just the place to do this, out on the edge of the Carneros.

The Carneros is the largest of the Napa Valley wine growing regions and shared, as well, with Sonoma County.  Chardonnay and Pinot Noir are its most famous grapes, others include Merlot and Syrah and it was the first region to be designated an appellation in 1983.

Before we panic….

My good friend, Carole Peccorini, RN, MA, sent me this timely information:

With all the news about the Swine Flu swirling around in the media, don’t board the Panic Train. Focus on building a strong immune system.  It is wise to provide all the support we can to our immune systems on a regular basis, but especially at times like these when we could face additional challenges.  I am increasing the amount of products that I use to build my immune support and encouraging my family and friends to do the same.

Some facts to keep in mind for sanity’s sake – from report by Dr. Mercola (http://www.mercola.com/forms/background.htm)

The Swine Flu came around before in 1976.  More people died or were paralyzed from the vaccine than the flu itself.

To put things into perspective, malaria kills 3,000 people EVERY DAY, and it’s only considered “a health problem”.