From Peak to Peak

Back in the 1960’s, humanist psychologist Abraham Maslow wrote about peak experiences. One definition was “high points in life when people feel in harmony with themselves and their surroundings.” As an emerging young adult reading this, it felt much more appealing than the going definition of life as a “rat race” and the models I saw around me of unsatisfied adults doing unfulfilling work and getting through it with nightly cocktails. The idea of ascending a mountain not as a trudge fighting against gravity but as a walk through the woods rewarded by the stunning view from the peak felt much more appealing. 

 

Maslow knew that such inspired moments were often few and far between, a short time at the mountain’s top before descending again into a necessarily more mundane day-by-day. He suggested that we strive for a plateau experience, a place we can build our house and daily enjoy the view. 

 

So here I am in the last day of this two-week Orff Course, which could well be described as leaping from peak to peak. From the excitement of the opening gathering to the folk dance evening and my evening lecture and the little release of the weekend with beaches, movies and cornhole games to the choral session and the Level III practicum and the fabulous Untalent Show and then last night’s sharing from each Level, there is no time for the mundane and business as usual. And our closing ceremony coming up today will cap it all off. 

 

So here I am again, reporting on this life of moving from one peak to another, not (hopefully) with any boastful glee, but profound gratitude and sense of blessing. The past few months, for example, going from the Slovenia bike ride to the grandkids San Francisco visit to the New Orleans Jazz Course to this Orff Level training in Carmel Valley, with delightful plateaus back home in-between. Next up is Michigan, then two courses in China and then a Fall ahead of also promising peaks. 

 

It's such a unique way to feel immersed in this constant garden of love and delight and I hope the reader is not impatient with my testimonies, but glad to witness from afar such possibilities. And of course, I wish all of you your own version of mountain scenery born from the unique contours of your own life’s paths. My phone is buzzing with the WhatsAp messages from my colleagues figuring out the details of our closing day, so off I go. Whoever you are, wherever you may be, I wish the wild geese are flying overhead announcing “your place in the family of things” (Mary Oliver). Happy Friday!