Third and final installment of road trip adventures (see part one here, and part two here).

In addition to the striking scenery, good food, and precious hours spent with a friend, one of the best things about my recent trip was the complete break in routine. Routines can become ruts, where life sort of runs on automatic pilot and I don’t think about what I’m doing. After coming home, I have the choice of picking up my previous routines… or not. That’s one of the things I’m still figuring out, two weeks into my return. I feel like I need to change up how I operate.

But I digress.

Before I continue with the travelogue, I have to share with you the Best. Breakfast. Ever.  We ate at Crema in Cottonwood, Arizona both mornings we were in town. If you’re in the area, do not miss it. (No affiliation.)

After fueling up at Crema, we waddled to our car where we took off for further exploration, including: 

Montezuma Castle/Montezuma Well

The cliff dwellings at Montezuma Castle were home to the Southern Sinagua, and were occupied until the 1400s. Montezuma Castle is one of the best-preserved historic structures of the Southwest. It rises 100 feet above the valley, and consists of five stories and 20 rooms. Early American settlers assumed it was Aztec in origin, so they named it after Montezuma. We walked an easy paved loop trail past the cliff dwellings, down to the river, and back to the visitor’s center.

After the Castle, we stopped by Montezuma Well right at the end of the day, and what a lovely spot it turned out to be! The Well is fed by springs, and more than 1.5 million gallons of water flow into it every day.  The water eventually flows into an irrigation ditch, which has sections that date back over 1,000 years. The Southern Sinagua used water from this well to irrigate crops, and the residents of Rimrock, Arizona currently use it for gardens and livestock. There’s a pretty stiff climb up a hill that leads you to this:

We also climbed down to the water level of the well, and followed a trail along where the water flows out of it. 

In a previous post, I promised striking rock formations, and here they are:

Bell Rock and Courthouse Butte, near Sedona, Arizona. We stopped here briefly before sunset, dinner, and heading back to our hotel for the night.

The last place I’ll take you on this road trip is also one of my favorites: Horseshoe Bend. Horseshoe Bend is near the Grand Canyon, but not technically part of it. You can take an aerial or land tour, but you can also park and walk to the rim for free. Once there, look down 1,000 feet to the Colorado River as it winds around a 270-degree, horseshoe-shaped bend. This is known as an entrenched meander. Isn’t that a wonderful name?

We visited Horseshoe Bend twice, hoping for some good sunset photos, but it was too hazy each time. That didn’t matter—with or without sunset, Horseshoe Bend is photogenic, and the people watching was also entertaining. Stressed-out parents trying to keep their kids safe but still allow them to see and photograph the scene, couples cautiously creeping to the edge of the canyon to take selfies (or foolhardily marching up to the edge), Kerri trying for the perfect shot without losing her camera and tripod into the abyss. Once I snapped my photos, I sat and soaked up the scene while she experimented with settings and tripod placement, letting my eyes wander over the landscape, feeling the slight breeze on my face.

Yes, we were this close to the edge

I hope you’ve enjoyed our little jaunt into Arizona and New Mexico. It’s not always a pleasure to hear about someone else’s adventures when what you really want is to have your own! (Fair warning: there will probably be at least one future Field Trip Friday post based in the Southwest!)

What is your next adventure?

—Mark Twain

Let me tell you a little secret about traveling with my friend Kerri. You’d better be ready to GO. She packs more into a day than almost anyone I know. I’m grateful for this, because I’m a bit of a slug by nature. Each day of our trip was chock full of seeing the sights, driving, talking, eating, listening to music or podcasts, hunting that perfect photo, and exploring anything that caught our interest. Last week, I skipped ahead in our trip to write about Antelope Canyon, but now I’m backtracking to our first day’s adventures: 

Petroglyph National Monument is just outside Albuquerque, New Mexico, and it was our first stop on the trip. After checking in at the visitor’s center for advice on where to go if we didn’t have much time, we settled on Boca Negra Canyon. It was a beautiful morning, with cobalt blue skies and cool temperatures. A few minutes easy walk brought us into an area of tumbled volcanic rock, and the petroglyphs were easily spotted on the dark surfaces. These markings were created by Native Americans and early Spanish settlers approximately 400-700 years ago. This area is considered a sacred landscape by the American Indians, according to the Park Service brochure.

We also caught glimpses of the wildlife of the area—rabbits, quail, lizards, and what might have been ground squirrels or prairie dogs—they were too fast and too far away to tell.

 Our next stop was a roadside attraction we stumbled upon:

Located in a collapsed lava tube, the ice on the floor is approximately 20 feet deep. The deepest ice dates back to 1100 AD. Arctic algae causes the ice’s green tint.

Where we stayed at the delightful Iron Horse Inn.

Antelope Canyon, near Page, Arizona, is one of the most visited slot canyons in the Southwest. (Slot canyons are narrow, deep canyons carved by water.) Tours go to Upper and Lower Antelope Canyon, as well as a few lesser-known canyons. We chose to visit “Canyon X,” with Taadidiin Tours (no affiliation).

After Jackie dropped us off, we descended into the canyon itself, where we were met by a guide. The sandstone curves, swirls, and corkscrews, carved by wind and water into sinuous shapes. Colors range from pale peach to deep purple, depending on the angle of the sun. 

I’m home. My suitcase is stowed, and I just finished the laundry, but I’m still unpacking my photos (all 700+ of them) and my impressions. I’ll share tales from the road later this week. Until then, here are a few photos of some of the things we saw.

Friendly aliens:

“Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s okay. The journey changes you; it should change you. It leaves marks on your memory, on your consciousness, on your heart, and on your body. You take something with you. Hopefully, you leave something good behind.”

—Anthony Bourdain

 I’m on the road having adventures right now, but I’ll be back to share soon!

I’m getting ready for an adventure! Tomorrow I take off to New Mexico and Arizona for another road trip with my friend Kerri. (Read about 2016’s Florida road trip adventures starting here.) 

Along with my clothes, books, camera, sketchbook, and journal, I’m preparing for this adventure by “packing”:

It’s likely that I can buy any physical item left behind, but if I leave behind any of these attitudes, my trip will surely be the worse for it.

When adventure comes calling, will you be ready? How do you prepare for adventure?

Introduction by Ted Kooser: Roy Scheele, one of Nebraska's finest poets, has a new chapbook called The Sledders: Thirty Sonnets, from Three Sheets Press. One of any writer's most valuable tools is memory, and this poem shows it being put to work to breathe life into an afternoon from long ago.

In Possession (Minnesota)

Something almost Flemish about that water,

a golden brown but clear into its depths,

the plank-ends of the dock a fading gray

beside it, and a boat moored at the end;

something, it seems to me in looking back,

about a murky bullhead on a stringer,

one of those rope ones you can hardly see,

so that the fish appeared to scull in place;

something (the details start to widen now)

about white wooden clapboards on the side

of that inn or tavern where my dad had stopped,

a neon beer sign staring out through glass—

late in the afternoon, I drinking deep

of everything I saw, now mine to keep.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2016 by Roy Scheele, “In Possession: Minnesota,” from The Sledders: Thirty Sonnets (Three Sheets Press, 2016). Poem reprinted by permission of Roy Scheele and the publisher. Introduction copyright ©2016 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.

Does reading poetry seem hard or boring? Do you think you’d like to read poetry, but for some reason just can’t seem to make it a regular practice? April is National Poetry Month here in the U.S. and regular readers of Catching Happiness know that I like poetry and to force encourage others to read it, too, I  post a poem on the blog every couple of weeks. Every year during National Poetry Month, I also try to share simple ways for us to explore poetry in a painless fashion. (You can see some past poetry posts—say that five times fast—here, here, and here.)  

Reading poetry can be a simple pleasure, not an ordeal, or something that’s “good for you,” like eating broccoli. Consider these painless ways to add a little poetry to your life:

Downloading a poetry app, like Poetry from the Poetry Foundation, Poems by Shakespeare (Android), or Poems by Heart by Penguin Classics (iOs).

Or watch one of these movies with a poetry connection. (One lovely film with a poetry connection that was left off this list is Il Postino.) 

Watch  people reading their favorite poems by clicking here. 

Why not read a poem about happiness? 

And, of course, come back here Wednesday when I’ll have a new poem posted for you!

I encourage you to give poetry a try this month—and come back here and share your discoveries with us.

Last Friday, I accompanied Laure Ferlita and the Sarasota Urban Sketchers to the Marie Selby Botanical Gardens in Sarasota, Florida. This was my first visit to Selby, and I’ll be back.

The Selby Gardens feature a number of different gardens and habitats, including the Tropical Conservatory, a bromeliad garden, a tidal lagoon and hardwood hammock in the Native Florida section, and edible, fragrance, and butterfly gardens. When she died in 1971, Marie Selby bequeathed the property to the community for the purpose of creating a botanical garden “for the enjoyment of the general public.”

Our instructions were to sketch until 11:30 a.m, then meet to share our work. During this time, I never got farther into the gardens than the Tropical Conservatory, where I might have lost my mind a little after seeing the orchids on display. (My orchids are definitely slacking, and received a good talking-to when I got home.) Because of my mad photo taking and mind-losing, I didn’t finish my sketchbook page, and had to work on it later. (It’s not done yet, but will be soon.)

After sharing our work with the group, Laure and I stayed for lunch, then walked through the rest of the gardens. Laure  took photos for her upcoming class and I took them to use on the blog (Wednesday’s statue photo was taken at Selby) and my own pleasure.

Here are some highlights of the day:

From the Tropical Conservatory:

“Loving people live in a loving world. Hostile people live in a hostile world. Same world.”

So many lessons I’ve learned in riding can be neatly applied to the rest of my life. Take this deceptively simple instruction: Look where you want to go.

In riding, and even when leading a horse, if you’re unsure about where you want to go, or even just not paying attention, the horse can take over. You may or may not want to go where he does, so you’d better stay focused!  Don’t look at the ground (unless you want to meet it, abruptly) or at the horse himself. Look where you want to go. The act of turning your eyes in the direction you want to travel causes tiny changes in body position sending information to your horse, and making it much easier to steer him. (I’ve also heard race car drivers are told never to look at the wall—unless they want to crash into it!)

You can waste a lot of time looking in directions that don’t propel you forward into your desired happy life. Maybe you spend too much time looking back, regretting things you’ve done or opportunities missed. Maybe you stare at the blemishes in your life—the daily irritants, the painful experiences, all the stuff you wish was different. You might even be mesmerized by the things that scare you—afraid to take your eyes from them long enough to move head. I know I’ve turned my eyes in these less-than-helpful directions plenty of times.

So where should you look?

Look for opportunities. Look for someone who has already gone where you want to go—what path did they take? No two paths are identical, but you can often get some hints about where to go next from someone who has walked the path before you.

Look for inspiration, look for humor, look for happy.

Yes, you’ve got to back up your looking with action, but the first step is always—you guessed it—look where you want to go.

Where do you want to go? Are you looking in that direction?

Introduction by Ted Kooser: Marge Saiser is a Nebraska poet about whose work I have said that no contemporary poet is better at writing about love. Here's a love poem from her new book, I Have Nothing to Say about Fire, from Backwaters Press.

You and I on the boat notice

the print the whales leave,

the huge ring their diving draws

for a time on the surface.

Is it like that when we

lose one another? Don't

know, can't. But

I want to believe

when we can no longer

walk across a room

for a hug, can no longer

step into the arms of the other,

there will be this:

some trace that stays

while the great body

remains below out of sight,

dark mammoth shadow

flick of flipper

body of delight

diving deep.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2016 by Marjorie Saiser, “The Print the Whales Make,” from I Have Nothing to Say about Fire, (Backwaters Press, 2016). Poem reprinted by permission of Marjorie Saiser and the publisher. Introduction copyright ©2017 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004- 2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.

Photo courtesy Luiza

Happiness matters.

So much so that in 2012 the United Nations created the International Day of Happiness, and it was celebrated for the first time in 2013. The purpose of this day is to educate and make people aware of the benefits of happiness. As the official website notes, “‘Progress’ should be about increasing human happiness and wellbeing, not just growing the economy.” 

How can you participate? It’s easy:

You can also join the movement here. 

That’s it.

Bring on the happy!

I’m happiest when I’m engaged in work that helps others, when I’m taking care of myself, and when I have enough free time to enjoy my favorite simple pleasures. How about you? How will you choose happiness today? What will you do to spread happiness?

Join in the celebration by sharing your happiness with the world via Twitter or Instagram, using any of the following hashtags: internationaldayofhappiness, #happinessday, #choosehappiness, #createhappiness, or #makeithappy. I’ll be posting my happy little moments on Instagram today.

Sometimes this world is too much for me. Too many activities. Too much noise. Too many expectations. Too much stuff in my house. Too much stuff in my head. More than once I’ve written about my attempts to banish busy or do less, and yet I still wind up searching for ways to make life more manageable and thus happier. My newest discovery is the principle of “less, but better.”

The phrase less, but better comes from the design philosophy of industrial designer Dieter Rams, but it’s easy to see how we can apply it to our overcrowded lives.

Less seems pretty self-explanatory. Do less, have less, embrace enough and avoid excess. Of course, excess looks different to every person. What is excess to me could be just right for you. I hate being rushed and I get anxious when stretched too thin. To maintain my personal happy balance, I need to commit to doing fewer things, whether that means trimming my to-do list, or saying no to activities I’d like to do but that will put me over the border into Crazytown.

No matter what our personal less/excess level is, we need to be clear in our own minds about what we truly want and need. Less, but better is the way of mindfulness, intention, slowing down to think rather than diving in heedlessly. It’s the way of becoming more thoughtful with time and energy.

Instead of throwing a ton of stuff (activities, food, clothes, possessions) at yourself, ask, what do I need? What do I long for? Would one gourmet dark chocolate sea salt caramel be more satisfying than five grocery store candy bars? The answer is almost always yes.

Getting rid of excess, or not buying into it (or buying it) in the first place, is just the start. Once the excess is pared away, we’ll have time and space, and probably money, to go deeper, to enjoy better. Since deeper is my word of the year, I really appreciate this. When a new something-or-other catches my attention, I remind myself that this is the year I want to go deeper into the things that I love and that I’ve already committed to such as my writing, my horse, and sketching. Instead of reading more books this year, I want to read better books, and absorb more of what I read. I’d rather put my heart into a few things than spatter my attention across a multitude.

I don’t say this is easy. I still find it remarkably hard not to run after the first shiny object that attracts my eye. But I am getting much better at choosing that single dark chocolate sea salt caramel.

What is one area in your life where you can experiment with the principle of less, but better?