Weblog von Eric Bowers

As I wrote several posts ago, I often get very inspired when trail running or hiking.  Ideas come to me that I get excited about, but the excitement doesn't often carry into my day-to-day life.  About a month ago I decided to see if I could change that.  I wanted to see if I could expand my capacity for aliveness and inspiration during my day-to-day life by following through on some of the ideas that come to me while trail running.

I'm celebrating the release of my cd Baby Steps, Giant Leaps.   Thank you Little Bear Studios for your patient support and endurance (an ounce of practice is worth a pound of recording).  There are nine original songs on my cd that you can find by clicking here www.cdbaby.com/ericbowers.  I have crafted the lyrics of these songs over several years and I love them like teachers who have held my hand and helped me find my way. 

There is so much more I would have liked to have done with these songs, but I might have waited the rest of my life to find the time to create my vision.  The upside is that no one is going to accuse me of overproduction, or perfect pitch, or flawless musicianship, and I'm left with the sweet, vulnerable aliveness of a child in his first play as I unleash my heartfelt, imperfect creativity into the world.

(Continued from last post) 

We gathered again the following week with the same eight students, their teacher, and the school principal.   A Restorative Circle (RC) is meant to be non-hierarchical, so, as much as possible, titles and roles are left at the door so that RC participants can meet as humans who are equally valued.  However, we didn’t explain the non-hierarchy principle as well as we could have, and the power structure of the school environment isn’t easily shed, which meant that students raised their hands to speak while the teacher and principal spoke more freely.  Nonetheless, the students spoke their truth, mostly to the principal, and I was inspired by how she repeated back what she had heard them say.  Of course, the principal and teacher also got to share and be heard by whom they wanted to be heard.

When I was in Nelson, BC over the holidays, I bumped into an old friend who I hadn't seen for a couple of years. He told me he'd heard that my former wife Melody and I were no long together. "Makes you think," he said, "if two NVC trainers can't make it, who can?"

I was unprepared for his comment, so all I said in response was that we are still good friends. This seemed to give him some relief.

En route to the Okanagan, Rosa climbs up the Coquihalla Highway, her headlights not as bright or straight as they could be, her modest engine pushing itself to go 45 or 50 km/hour up the pass. The snow is falling fast and sticking to the pavement as Rosa's winter tires wait for her in Nelson. A transport truck barrels past and douses Rosa with heavy sleet and snow, like a rhinoceros running past a wombat while simultaneously shaking itself dry of a mud bath (a very athletic rhinoceros and a very lost wombat). For a moment the windshield is opaque until the wipers heave the sleet and snow away.