Montana Woman Magazine, Issue 21, November/December 2022

montana woman magazine

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montana woman

Montana Woman is a platform. It’s a place to celebrate our achievements, a place to support each other, a place to acknowledge the resilience of the women of this state. It doesn’t necessarily matter where you’re from, you’re here now. In all of your loudness, your boldness, your fearlessness— you are here. We’re here, together.

We publish a statewide magazine every other month that features women across Montana— the movers and shakers, the go-getters, the rule-breakers, the risk-takers. We all have a story to tell.

Montana Woman Magazine as you know it began in October 2019. Right out of the gate with photographer Alexis Pike as the first cover feature— clad in fringe pants and a motorcycle helmet in a Bozeman alleyway— we’ve always been authentically ourselves. We believe in showing up as you are. You don’t need to change who you are to have a seat at the table. No matter your age, your identity, your hometown, you are welcome here. We believe in creating a publication that’s worth reading because we have stories worth telling.

OWNER & EDITOR megan crawford

CREATIVE DIRECTOR megan crawford

BUSINESS MANAGER carrie crawford

ADVERTISING carrie crawford kelsey merritt megan crawford

PHOTOGRAPHERS megan crawford jesslyn marie chloe nostrant kelsey merritt

megan crawford AWAIT AMSKAPI PIIKUNI, KOOTENAI, SÉLIŠ, AND Q'LISPÉ LANDS

BACK COVER ADVERTISING,

Contact the editor at: info@montanawoman.com

EDITING DEPARTMENT megan crawford kelsey merritt emily adamiak

PUBLIC RELATIONS carrie crawford kelsey merritt

Submissions are not accepted through the phone, postal service, or social media.

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Montana Woman and the publisher do not endorse any individuals, companies, products, services, or views featured or advertised in this magazine.

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LETTER From the EDITOR

I understand that winter months are a point of contention in northern climes (and that people have probably been looking at me sideways all October, because I am of the belief that 70º in October is not enjoyable). It’s not exactly easy to conjure up a winter issue when the grass is greener than it was two months ago. I know that soon enough I’ll be wishing away the Flathead’s inversion layer and dreaming of the garden in spring, but for now I simply want it to be cold. Bitter cold, wear a sweater and wrap yourself in a blanket cold.

My first winter in Montana was spent in Bozeman as a college student. My finals were scheduled a week early, which coincided with a few balmy -40º wind chill days. I did not particularly enjoy trudging across campus in that weather, but I did enjoy everything else that comes with winter. Seasons become intentional when you live somewhere that has clearly defined segments of time.

Winter is when I get back into baking— last December I practiced my six-plait challah and spent two days making croissants from scratch. Could I have gone to a bakery, bought croissants, and saved myself two days of work? Absolutely. But, to me, there is so much joy in the process. That batch only made six croissants, but the time is what made them worth it (and, honestly, they were some of the best croissants I’ve ever had, mainly because they were as fresh as they could be).

We live in a world that is so dead-set on making everything as efficient as possible that, sometimes, it’s fun to revel in its antithesis. Could I run to the store and have fifty different types of bread to choose from? Yes— but I could also take my time and make homemade bread and gift it away to a friend. For no reason other than to do it! Time is just as valuable (if not more so) when it’s spent slowly and intentionally as it is when you try to do as much as you can in 24 hours. We’re so trained to be efficient that we sometimes forget why. Nature lives in cycles of activity and dormancy— we’re not meant to constantly run at full speed every day, through every season.

So take the long way home. Make your everyday mundane tasks a ritual; romanticize the minutiae of your life where and when you can. It’s not wholly realistic to slow down every part of your life, but it can become a practice. Maybe it’s writing a letter; maybe it’s taking more time on a day off to make a cup of coffee; maybe it’s stargazing, reading, baking, knitting, hiking. Whatever makes you move slower, doesn’t have a time constraint, isn’t for anything other than to be. Begin there. Admire every part— how cream swirls into coffee, how quiet the world is when it snows, how every book smells different, how light filters through Hemlocks & mist. The smallest, simplest thing can be a work of art, but only if the time is taken to be witness to it.

THE WHITE MOUNTAINS, THOMAS MORAN (1837–1926) COLOR LITHOGRAPH ON PAPER, 11 × 15 INCHES. 1874. COURTESY OF THE SMITHSONIAN AMERICAN ART MUSEUM

spiced pumpkin loaf

By Lauren Wilcox

spiced pumpkin loaf

by Lauren Wilcox

OVEN TEMP: 350 º F BAKE TIME: 60-70 MINUTES

ingredients

For the pumpkin loaf

1 can of pumpkin puree 2 cups all-purpose flour 1 cup granulated sugar

½ cup brown sugar

1 tsp baking soda 2 tsp baking powder 2 tsp cinnamon

method

1 tsp allspice ¼ tsp nutmeg ¼ tsp cloves 3 eggs 1 cup vegetable oil  1 tsp salt 1 tsp vanilla

For the crumble (optional)

½ cup all-purpose flour ½ cup granulated sugar ¼ cup cold unsalted butter ¼ tsp cinnamon ¼ tsp salt

☼ FOR THE CRUMBLE

In a medium bowl, add the flour, sugar, salt, and cinnamon. Combine until fully incorporated.  Cube the butter and add it to the flour mixture. Using your fingers or a pastry cutter, mix the cold butter in until a sandy crumble forms.

☼ FOR THE SPICED PUMPKIN LOAF

Preheat the oven to 350°F

In a large bowl, combine the pumpkin puree, granulated sugar, brown sugar, eggs, vegetable oil, and vanilla. Mix until fully combined and set aside.

method

☼ FOR THE SPICED PUMPKIN LOAF (CONTINUED)

In a medium bowl, combine the flour, baking soda, baking powder, spices, and salt. Mix until fully combined.

Mix ⅓ of the dry mixture into the wet batter and stir until fully incorporated. Repeat until all of the flour mixture is used and a smooth thick batter forms.

Pour the batter into a greased 9x5 loaf pan.

Sprinkle the crumble mixture on top.

Bake at 350°F for 60-70 minutes until the center of the loaf has fully risen and a toothpick comes out clean.

If the top of the loaf is beginning to look browner than you fancy, lightly place a piece of foil on top of the loaf for the remainder of the bake.

enjoy!

creamy chicken cavatappi

By Megan Crawford

creamy chicken cavatappi

By Megan Crawford

TOTAL TIME: ABOUT 40 MINUTES

ingredients

For the chicken

1 chicken breast garlic powder onion powder Italian seasoning salt & pepper

For the pasta & sauce

1lb Cavatappi noodles

1 packet Knorr Alfredo mix 3/4 cup milk

1 cup heavy cream

1 Tbsp butter

1 Tbsp pesto

1/2 cup sun-dried tomatoes 1/2 tsp garlic powder 1/2 tsp onion powder

method

☼ FOR THE CHICKEN

Preheat the oven to 350°F

Slice chicken in half and place in a foil-lined baking pan.

Season one side, flip, & season the other side.

Bake at 350°F for 30 minutes.

☼ FOR THE PASTA & SAUCE

Boil water in a medium pan. While the pasta water boils, make your sauce (you can follow sauce instructions on the back of the Knorr packet, but I'll add them here, too!). Once the water is boiling, add in Cavatappi noodles and cook for 10 minutes.

In a small skillet or sauce pan, whisk together milk, heavy cream, Alfredo sauce mix, garlic powder, and onion powder. Add butter once combined.

Stirring constantly, heat sauce on medium heat and bring to a boil.

Once boiling, reduce heat to low and let simmer for 3-4 minutes, stirring frequently. Add in pesto and sun-dried tomatoes.

Pour sauce over pasta and top with chicken, serve & enjoy!

books in six different homes

By Autumn Toennis

STUDY OF HEMLOCKS, DANIEL HUNTINGTON (1816–1906)

GRAPHITE ON PAPER, 14 × 10 INCHES. 1862. COURTESY OF THE SMITHSONIAN AMERICAN ART MUSEUM

having lived in six different places this year, I have found myself looking for rest. It began on one end of the country and ends nearly on the other. I have been wearing the same sets of shirts, pants, sweaters, etc., that I packed into a large bag in January as I boxed and said goodbye to our tiny apartment in Brooklyn.

Since then, I have repeated this exercise in an old house in New Jersey, a small town on the banks of the Hudson, my own childhood stomping grounds in Miles City, an Airbnb in Livingston, a single room in Chico, and finally, a cabin in a little community set along a little creek that breaks north of the Gallatin.

We are, for the most part, moved in. A few key things are still missing, and most of our clothing and kitchenware remains in storage— but my chosen books for the year, carried with me since I left with them in a basket from Brooklyn Heights, have waited patiently next to an empty bookcase in the living room.

This afternoon, as I reordered them on the new shelf, I could see every place I have been in the past year reflected in their titled spines. Here are a few of my favorite books from 2022. With short days and long nights ahead of us that demand rest, I hope you find something to cozy up with this winter.

BROOKLYN, NEW YORK

My Best Friend’s Exorcism by Grady Hendrix (HORROR) –This 80s romp does not disappoint. Short version? Abby and Gretchen have been best friends since fourth grade, and are now tackling high school together. But after an evening skinny-dipping excursion, Gretchen starts to act oddly. On the surface this is a horror novel, but sisterhood and comedy are its heart. Please, I am begging you, read it before you even think about watching the Amazon adaption. (Bonus: the cover is set up to look like an old VHS tape, and I’m a sucker for unique designs.)

Where I read it— lying on my green velvet couch in the apartment under mountains of blankets, but also sitting in a doorway outside a grocery store in the cold January sun.

MONTCLAIR, NEW JERSEY

Finlay Donovan is Killing It by Elle Cosimano (COMEDY) –Finlay is a newly divorced single mom and also a struggling suspense writer with no shortage of money troubles. One day, as she’s describing the plot of her newest book to her agent, she’s mistaken for an assassin, and to make ends meet she “accidentally” takes the job. Books rarely make me snort with laughter— this one did. A lot. And, if you like it enough, there’s a sequel out, no waiting two years.

Where I read it— Feet tucked up in a large wicker chair. A cold, large room on the top floor with great windows. It snowed a lot that week, big, fluffy flakes.

PIERMONT, NEW YORK

The Flatshare by Beth O’Leary (ROMCOM) –Roommates! Tiffy works days, Leon works nights, and they never see each other in person. But they start writing each other notes; first about inane tasks like garbage day and bathroom etiquette, before things shift to the sweet and personal. Confession: I had never read anything in the romance genre before this book and I have to say, I was floored (half of it is written in epistolary form which should have been a dead giveaway). If you’re trying to scratch a Nora Ephron movie itch, this charming little thing is perfect.

Where I read it— Curled up on a bed in a basement apartment, where the headboard is a wall cutout stacked with books. Gray coverlet, tall red thrift shop candles burning in the evenings.

Bright Dead Things by Ada Limón (POETRY) –

Good news: Ada Limón is our new American poet laureate, and she is not only brilliant, she is accessible. Afraid of poetry? Read this book to fall in love with it for the first time.

These Precious Days by Ann Patchett (ESSAYS) – If you’ve never read a book of essays, this is a good one to start with. In fact, if you’ve never read an Ann Patchett book (which is a shame), this is a good one to start with! She is a master of making you feel, and I find it difficult to even summarize this one. I’ll just say, if you want to feel connected by small, everyday things to something greater than yourself, this one is for you. (I love the one about the three fathers in her life. And the one about knitting. And the one about children’s books. And the one— you get it.)

Where I read it— In a tiny leather revolving chair in a corner, a glass of frozen peaches to my left, a lamp with a floor button to my right.

“I like the lady horses best, how they make it all look easy, like running 40 miles per hour is as fun as taking a nap, or grass. I like their lady horse swagger, after winning. Ears up, girls, ears up! But mainly, let’s be honest, I like that they’re ladies. As if this big dangerous animal is also a part of me, that somewhere inside the delicate skin of my body, there pumps an 8-pound female horse heart, giant with power, heavy with blood. Don’t you want to believe it? Don’t you want to lift my shirt and see the huge beating genius machine that thinks, no, it knows, it’s going to come in first.”

Where I read it— Outside seating at a corner café in Sparkill, at the junction of a four-way stop. Mango smoothie. Stoplights on wires swinging over the streets in the breeze.

SOMEWHERE IN THE ABSAROKA–BEARTOOTH WILDERNESS

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin (FICTION) – If you never read anything else all year, please read this. You do not have to like video games, I promise you. Follow Sam Masur and Sadie Green through the decades— friends since childhood who are always in love but never lovers. It is such a beautiful and wrenching portrayal of the idea that friends can be soulmates, too. But it’s also so much more! I am still thinking about this book, and I read it in July.

Where I read it— In a camp chair facing an aspen grove backed by mountains and blue sky. By flashlight in a top bunk in a camper.

LIVINGSTON, MONTANA

The Marriage Portrait by Maggie O’Farrell (LITERARY FICTION) – Want to watch an absolute master pull a littleknown story out of obscurity in lush and luminous prose? This is your stop. I’m going to let the historical note in the front of the book do most of the talking:

“In 1560, fifteen-year-old Lucrezia di Cosimo de’ Medici left Florence to begin her married life with Alfonso II d’Este, Duke of Ferrara. Less than a year later, she would be dead. The official cause of her death was given as ‘putrid fever’…but it was rumored that she had been murdered by her husband.” When you’ve finished reading it and are dying for more, go directly to O’Farrell’s previous book, Hamnet.

Where I read it— On an old hide-a-bed couch in the historical Grabow Hotel, the smell of fresh baked bread and new plaster floating through the room. And by candlelight –this is a book that demands candlelight.

CHICO HOT SPRINGS, MONTANA

Joan: A Novel of Joan of Arc by Katharine Chen (HISTORICAL FICTION) – Chen takes a mythical, historical figure and turns her into a person you could have met walking down the road in 15th century France. We meet her not as she’s 17 and having visions from angels, but as a dirty child trailed by her dog in a small village set to be razed by the 100 Years’ War. This action-packed book is— as the reviews say— “not your grandmother’s Joan.”

Where I read it— Sitting poolside four days in a row, my hair wet on my shoulders, the September sun still warm but fading fast. Fall— and winter— on the way.

Autumn Toennis is a writer and artist from Miles City, Montana. She works remotely both as a designer for Open Country Press in Helena, Montana, and as an editor with Europa Editions in New York City. She lives with her husband and a traveling library/orchard. You can follow her on Instagram @ autumn_toennis, or find her at her Etsy shop, AutumnMarieArt.

oakgiftsmoon of the

An embroidery pattern

By Megan Crawford

stitch guide

backstitch

USED AS A BASE FOR THE LINE WORK

A backstitch is the foundation to essentially every type of stitch, and even if you’ve never picked up a needle and thread, you probably know the backstitch.

Start by bringing the needle up through the underside of your fabric, and send the needle back down farther down the line. If you’re after a neat & tidy backstitch, try to keep your stitches a similar length. If you’re going to turn them into a whipped backstitch, though, variations in length are okay.

whipped backstitch

USED TO SMOOTH THE LOOK OF A PLAIN BACKSTITCH

A whipped backstitch is just a fancy backstitch, and it makes easy work of stems or any sort of line work.

Start with a backstitch. At one end of the backstitch, send the needle & thread up through the fabric. Without going back through the fabric, pass the needle under the backstitch. Always pass the needle the same way (i.e., if you’re working from right to left, go right to left for every backstitch).

Find this pattern & more online

yarn Fabric classes community

THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE BLANK! THAT WAY YOU CAN TRACE THE EMBROIDERY PATTERN ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS PAGE. I WOULD NOT ACCIDENTALLY LEAVE A WHOLE PAGE BLANK.

IF YOU DON'T NEED OR WANT TO TRACE THE EMBROIDERY PATTERN, USE THIS SPACE TO WRITE DOWN SWEET NOTHINGS TO YOURSELF.

XOXO, THE EDITOR

rest

by Gabrielle Pelchen

IMAGE BY JULIAN HOCHGESANG

My baby's head is nestled in the crook of my arm. His sprouting hair, whisper-soft, catches the early morning light. Dust motes dance in front of my rocking chair. My dog lets out a huff near my feet as she changes position. Everything around me is still. Inside me, nothing is. Unending to-do lists, questions about tomorrow, hopes for the waiting hours before me, ideas, and daydreams all trot their way through my mind on a conveyor belt going nowhere. But why? Why am I creating noise when the world is offering peace? My child is filling his belly with nutrition, guzzling without worry or care. My puppy is present as only canines can be. Even the sun’s light, warmth, and power are offered in absolute silence, without question or demand, no expectation, giving freely. Everything is waiting for me. The whole world is ushering me into its embrace, but my mind has made me blind to the feast before me.

As a mother, rest is something you don’t get enough of, ever. Rest is something you create time for, covet, long for, and take in small moments, usually seated on the toilet with the door cracked, eyes closed, and ears open. For me though, rest tends to be forgotten, or worse, trampled on by my never-ending pursuit of productivity. It turns out, though, rest is all around me, waiting to be found if I would only

Be here now.

Gabrielle Pelchen was born and raised in Montana. She currently lives in Whitefish with her partner, Stuart, their delightful baby boy. Among many things, she particularly loves to write and hopes to always find time and a way to connect and express through the art of words.

STUDY OF A SLEEPING DOG, JAN MIEL (1599–1664) BLACK CHALK ON PAPER, 3 × 4 INCHES. COURTESY OF THE METROPOLITAN MUSEUM OF ART

According to his letters, Van Gogh wanted to be known for painting sunflowers, later writing that he wanted his yellow Arles studio to be filled with “nothing but large sunflowers.” He painted them in every stage of life.

hitting pause

By Jeni Brunner

As women, we naturally gravitate toward giving. There is always somewhere to show up, something to do, some relationship to nurture. There is always plenty to take care of, and anyway, receiving can make us feel uncomfortable, like a kind compliment we don’t know how to respond to. So we hold our breath and keep our eye on all those balls we’re juggling, the spinning plates— that next degree and the career milestones and kids’ activities and volunteer opportunities and family vacations with all the Instagram posts for proof of this full life we’re living.

If we spared a quick moment to be honest with ourselves, we’re often white-knuckling our way through the long days that somehow don’t hold enough hours. Sometimes the path we find ourselves traveling is exhausting. We look up and realize we’re running a race we didn’t know we’d entered. But stopping or even slowing down is scary because who will pick up the pieces when the plates come smashing down at our feet? Isn’t it better to keep up and stay in front of potential disaster rather than clean up the inevitable mess that is sure to come since we’re the only one who can handle anything? These are the lies that keep us going. And going and going and going.

Whether we learned it from our families or out in the world, some of us got the message loud and clear that our worth is directly connected to what we give or do. So we show up for a new class or a new job or a new relationship, and we over-give right out of the gate, unbelieving we’re enough just as we are. But what if we embraced the idea that what we do is not who we are? What if we remembered that we are human beings after all— not human doings?

This practice of being rather than doing is a messy and delicate kind of art. We will fumble around trying to find our way in the pauses, in the letting go. As we’re learning, there will be do-overs, things to put down that

SUNFLOWERS, VINCENT VAN GOGH (1853–1890) OIL ON CANVAS, 17 × 24 INCHES. 1887. COURTESY OF THE METROPOLITAN MUSEUM OF ART

we shouldn’t have picked up in the first place. But we get to begin again and again, as often as we need to, until we find ourselves more in that balanced place between giving and receiving, holding and being held.

Ironically, in recent years, even self-care has become this whole thing to get done, one more item on the to-do list. We’re trying to fall asleep at night and realize we skipped our skincare routine and it’s been too long since we’ve had a girls’ night or got a massage or worked out. And then we feel worse. But what if taking care of ourselves wasn’t a thing to do, but a way to be— simply prioritizing our true needs and nudging them toward the front of the line? Not out of selfishness, but out of necessity. So that when we pour out into the world, we’re doing it from a place of abundance and joy without the risk of resentment.

This is the gentle challenge: To putter among your flowers— not because they need deadheading, but because you love being in their presence. Lace up your hiking boots and wander in the woods— not because you need exercise but because the light is

beautiful out there. If you roll out your yoga mat, do it to celebrate your body, not to punish it. Cozy up on the couch under your softest blanket. Dig in the dirt around your veggies until dark. Linger in bed in the morning. Sit quietly with coffee or a friend. Take a bath instead of a shower. Put the constant striving to rest, and choose you once in a while.

When we hit pause and take a full inhale, the exhales come more naturally. Uncurling our fingers from the tight grip of all that white-knuckling opens our palms into an expression of receptivity, and we get to take in the goodness meant for us. Putting down what we’re not meant to carry through the next section of the trail means we’re free to soak up the fresh blessings of a new season in choosing to be.

Jeni Brunner is an adventure-loving yoga therapist originally from the waters and woods of northern Wisconsin. During family camping trips as a kid, she fell in love with the mountains and finally made her way home to Montana in her twenties. She spends her time here sharing her passion for wellness and creating sweet memories with her daughter under our big sky.

a fall to rest

How a climbing injury transformed one woman’s perspective on what it means to press pause.

Story by Chelsea Coli

Images by Chelsea Coli Austin Parish Cail Soria Haven Soria

CAIL SORIA, IMAGE BY AUSTIN PARISH GRAND TETON NATIONAL PARK

CAIL SORIA

started hiking up the steep, rocky approach, her climbing gear hooked on one arm, her crutch keeping her steady under the other. It wasn’t a long hike to get to the crag; however, at just four months post-amputation surgery, this hike would require some grit. But this is what she’d been waiting for, and she was excited for the challenge.

Five years ago, photographer and outdoors adventurer Cail Soria, 25, was injured in a climbing accident. A 25-foot fall left her with a destroyed right foot and broken back, along with an infection and cysts in her leg. She has undergone multiple surgeries to correct the injury, but nevertheless, her life has been filled with chronic pain.

Her future could go one of two ways: she could go through with a below-the-knee amputation surgery and have a chance at living an active, painfree life, or she could keep her leg and give up her active lifestyle. After years of conversations with specialists and surgeons, she was finally approved for the amputation surgery in March of 2022. This would be her seventh surgery since the accident.

“It was more about quality of life,” Soria says about the amputation surgery. “At this point in time, I probably wouldn’t even be able to be walking. I would be in so much pain. (My leg) was so deteriorated.”

The abrupt change of pace was a hard reality for Soria, who, even from a young age, had always lived a life in motion. Now, as Soria navigates her body’s physical changes and respects the needs of her mental and emotional health, she says her perspective on and respect for rest has altered.

“I’ve gone through all stages emotionally when it comes to how I perceive rest,” says Soria. “Being forced to rest was incredibly frustrating at times, but also humbling.”

Originally from Colorado, Soria now lives in Helena, MT, between work contracts that take her out of state. While she was constantly outside as a child, her love for the outdoors escalated just after high school, and ever since, she has filled her time with hiking, climbing, and snowboarding while juggling work and school. Always pushed to the back burner, rest was an amenity she didn’t feel she was able to have.

CAIL SORIA, IMAGE BY HAVEN SORIA

IMAGE BY CAIL SORIA GRAND TETON NATIONAL PARK

“I used to think that rest was kind of a luxury, or was something you do but not often,” says Soria, explaining that resting just never crossed her mind. “I was so focused on working and getting out as much as possible.”

But that would all change after her accident, whether she wanted it to or not.

Soria spent three months in a wheelchair after her fall, and in the past five years has spent, cumulatively, a full year on bed rest. Each of her seven surgeries meant she had to start again from zero, building her strength back so she could physically do everything she loved. She was in a constant state of recovery.

Though it was hard, this time in recovery has taught Soria to be more in tune with her body and to slow down, even just a little bit. Her physical therapist, Dr. Dani Williams, PT, DPT, ACT, CSCS, says Soria has taken on this lesson in stride. She says Soria really listens to her body and is very open about what she’s physically feeling. This open communication allows them to have sessions that are tailored toward her pain level when needed, and are therefore even more beneficial.

But while her recovery has taught Soria about her needs physically, it may have had an even greater impact on her mentally and emotionally.

So much recovery meant that Soria spent a lot of time alone with her thoughts. She went through a spectrum of emotions, including waves of frustration and anger toward her situation— and she has allowed herself to feel it all. But it’s not just feeling these emotions that’s important, she says; it’s also about keeping a positive outlook on the future while you take the time to process through them.

Compiling on top of this were society’s preconceived notions about those with amputations, as well as her own thoughts about what she’d be able to do. But she learned that people often underestimate themselves, herself included, and that when they need to, humans persevere.

“Coming out of that stigma, for myself, was difficult, but I’m glad I got to the other side,” says Soria, adding, “I think the reason why people are so shocked by the fact that I’m already climbing is because they think amputees can’t, or don’t do that stuff, typically.”

I think the reason why people are so shocked by the fact that I’m already climbing is because they think amputees can’t, or don’t do that stuff, typically.

Cail Soria

She later added that this stigma often comes as a result of underrepresentation in the media and pop culture of those with disabilities and those from marginalized communities.

“We are just as capable; however, the lack of accessibility, equity, and diversity makes it more difficult to achieve certain goals,” she says.

But having this time alone gave her the space to begin working through these matters in a healthy way. Her close friend, Sophia Webb, says Soria’s surgery and deep inner dive have opened up conversations and allowed the two friends to connect on a different level. Talking about mental health no longer feels like a big build-up of a conversation, but instead something they can talk openly about, as easily as they would talk about what they ate for dinner the night before.

While Webb says her friend still possesses her same fast-paced character, she’s noticed that Soria seems more grounded and focused when it comes to life and what she wants for the future.

“I think before, she was kind of interested in being pulled in so many different directions,” Says Webb. “And I feel like this did give her the time to rest physically, but also mentally and emotionally, and get to a place where she… knows a little bit more about herself and where she wants to go next.”

This is evident in Soria’s continual fine-tuning of her profession. Before her accident, she was studying with aspirations of becoming a detective with the FBI. The near-death experience taught her she never wanted to work in an office and that she wanted to spend her time outdoors. Since then, Soria has worked to be a professional photographer, and has recently made the leap into adventure photography, where her true passion lies.

“I always knew that was something I wanted to do, but it seemed so scary and unobtainable that I wasn’t willing to take the chance to just do this,” says Soria. “And now I do feel like, alright, let’s go for it. I guess I’m not thinking as much about backup plans.”

It hasn’t taken long for her to find work. She’s been involved in multiple projects, including photographing during the Bozeman Rock Climbing Festival and shooting photos with brands. She is

also currently working on her first rock climbing film while in the midst of planning upcoming projects for the winter.

The other lesson Soria has learned is that rest can look different at different times, or to different people. It doesn’t always have to be sitting at home alone; it can include activities that make you feel relaxed and allow you to recharge while in the presence of others. For her, this means learning about post-production editing, surrounding herself with good friends, and spending time in nature.

So, when Soria had the opportunity to climb outside again for the first time since her amputation surgery, she took it, even though she wasn’t completely sure-footed on her prosthetic. A lastminute trip to Avalanche Gulch to climb with friends may not seem like something that would be physically restful, but it was her way of attaining some emotional respite.

As she made her way to the crag, she released herself of any expectations, leaned into her excitement, stayed present in the moment, and reaped the benefits of all she’s learned.

“It felt so euphoric,” Soria says about the climb. “It was just what I needed— a great mental break.”

You can find Cail at: @Cailsoria cailmedia.squarespace.com

Chelsea Coli is a writer and small business owner in Helena, Montana. Originally from upstate New York, Chelsea has a master’s degree in journalism from Georgetown University, and fell in love with the West when the bustle of Washington, D.C. left her yearning for a quieter life with deep connections to the mountains and people around her. In Helena, she owns a paddleboard rental business and is a freelance writer, with a focus on outdoor and feature writing. When not working, you can find Chelsea running trails with her husband and two dogs or sipping a local brew downtown. To connect, visit ChelseaColiWriter. squarespace.com.

We are just as capable; however, the lack of accessibility, equity, and diversity makes it more difficult to achieve certain goals.

Cail Soria

Anything but Dormant

By Rebecca Storm Grande

WILL

Sometime in December, most Montana trees will release the last of their vibrant leaves, becoming skeleton shadows in a white world. The extended daylight and wildflowers of summer, now ghosts, float away into our memories. Our nights will be long and our surroundings devoid of color. While the seasons transition and nature drifts into dreamland, our souls may be tempted to become lethargic as well. But look towards the mountains, where the pine trees show us a better way. Towering above the frozen ground, decorated in a virescence that enlivens the landscape, the evergreens are anything but dormant.

Most of nature sleeps because it cannot survive the environmental hazards of low temperature, biting wind, and icy precipitation; the evergreen tree, however, is built to withstand. To be like these enduring giants, we must uncover what we are afraid of and face it with boldness. Challenging ourselves is the quickest way to repel the seasonal languish of winter.

Indeed, fears can develop out of legitimate danger and risk. We create boundaries of I don’t do that, that’s not really my style, and I would prefer not to in order to protect ourselves. But personal limitations are not always logical. Anxiety masquerades as mortal danger and keeps us glued in one spot, seeking safety above all else. So when the snow begins to fall this year, we can take it as a sign to bundle up and hunker down until springtime; or we can task ourselves to stand tall as the Lodgepole pine, rise above our apprehension, and create a pattern of growth that warms us from within until the sunshine returns.

Once we have decided to embark on this brave adventure, the next step is finding which avenue of hesitation to turn down first. We can begin by listening to the speed of our heartbeats, attuning our ears to excuses, noting refused opportunities, and wondering about the territory into which our feet won’t take us. The human body is a compass buzzing with signals pointing to our misgivings; all we must do is pay attention.

Fears can exist in any sector of life, mentally, emotionally, and physically. Suppose you notice a recurring excuse of “I’m not good at math,” which could direct you to pick up an algebra textbook at the local bookstore and dive into its dangerous waters daily. Or maybe you observe yourself pushing visions of a traumatic childhood away; this could nudge you to write poems about your memories until you see the strength in your survival. Or perhaps, like me, you are afraid of meeting your physical limits. This winter, in disregard of my own dread, I am going to hike up the snowy mountains, sweating through my self-imposed barriers on my new splitboard. Inside our homes or outdoors, with friends or by ourselves, early in the morning or late at night, we can transcend the blockades our worries have built for us.

It won’t matter how we perform during these willful gauntlets; it only counts that action has been taken. We have looked into the eyes of our terror and decided to move beyond them. Ignoring panic is difficult— it is against our deepest instincts— however, doing so can ignite brilliant transformations. Confidence soars when daring to attempt what once froze us in fright. Optimism blossoms after tackling our whiteknuckled terror. Becoming alive from the inside is empowerment, a thrilling adventure in which we are in control and motivated by the taste of our own metamorphosis.

To be shielded from the hibernation of winter, we must look to the sharp needles, thick bark, and deep roots of the evergreens as inspiration. Like these majestic trees, we can be prepared to survive the challenges of Montana winters and resist dormancy. Let’s not waste this season waiting for the warmth to arrive; instead, may we become like phoenixes rising with the Ponderosa pines, bringing our own fire into these big, dark skies.

Rebecca Storm Grande is a writer and artist living in Whitefish, Montana. Wielding a degree in Psychology and a curiosity about nature, she analyzes the intersection of mental health and outdoor living through her work. Among her favorite things are extra-hot lattes, thrift stores, and bald eagle sightings.

PARIS GIBSON SQUARE MUSEUM OF ART

1400 First Avenue North Great Falls, MT 59401 (406)727-8255 www.the-square.org www.facebook.com/PGSMOA/

see the art & make the art at the square a contemporary art museum

The Paris Gibson Square Museum of Art (The Square) in Great Falls, Montana has been exhibiting art, teaching art and supporting the development of contemporary art and artists since 1977. Housed in the historic Great Falls school built in 1896 by Paris Gibson, the founder of Great Falls.

The Square is known for its exceptional rotating exhibitions showing local, regional and national contemporary artists, in addition to its outdoor sculpture garden and educational gallery programing. The museum offers outstanding onsite studio classes to the community in ceramics, printmaking, painting, drawing and more!

HOURS OF OPERATION

Open Monday-Friday 10am to 5pm, including Tuesday Evenings 5-9pm, and Saturday Noon to 5pm. Closed Sundays and Select Holidays. free admission!

Exhibitions presented by Paris Gibson Square Museum of Art are supported in part by the Montana Arts Council, a state agency funded by the State of Montana and the National Endowment for the Arts. Additional funding is provided by museum members and the citizens of Cascade County, and generous support from Montana Federal Credit Union and D.A. Davidson.

By Caitlin Mallery the barren

garden

Stripped, Cleansed, Covered, Settling. Covert, Quiet, Quilt, Comforting. Quaint Patient, Potential, Quelling. Plenty, Bounty, Beauty, Preparing. Breathe, Freeze, Feats, Beguiling.

I walked through the damp forest in search of grouse, following my bird dogs through increasingly thick brush and trees. It smelled like the cozy evenings spent decorating the Christmas trees of my childhood— it smelled comforting and warm.

Back at home, I settled in to decompress from the weekend in the grouse woods. I had the feathers, I had the photos, I had the spruce grouse roasting in the oven, but when I sat down to write out my musing, I found the words rattled in my head without direction. I was missing something. I saw the candle sitting on my bookshelf— Bayberry and Fir. Bingo. I lit the candle and let the notes of the forest fill my senses once again, this time from the comfort of my home.

Your sense of smell is an often overlooked and underutilized part of storytelling. Sounds dance on the airwaves around us, we see moments before storing them to memory, consume the tastes of each bite we take, and reach out for familiar touches, but what about smell? Many times we find ourselves categorizing smell into “good” or “bad,” only taking note when the smell lands on the extreme end of either one. But smell is just as dynamic as the sounds, sights, feels, and tastes around us. In fact, it oftentimes accompanies the other senses to complete our experiences.

Laurie Barnhart and her daughter Breezy Cutler have carefully and intentionally captured these experiences and these moments in wax. With each strike of the match and lighting of the wick, we are transported to another place— maybe our grandmother’s living room, maybe a vacation from years ago, maybe the woods, and maybe we are just transported to a quieter space within ourselves.

Laurie and Breezy both boast impressive resumes; Laurie as a top-notch civil litigation paralegal for over 25 years, and Breezy as an orchestral conductor, with a master’s degree in orchestral conducting, traveling across the US working with many orchestras. Both call Bozeman home and have deep roots in the west. This dynamic motherdaughter duo started making candles a handful of years ago for Magical Babe, Breezy’s lifestyle brand. After years of trial and error, they found their stride. Breezy, who works off of intuition and abstract ideas, is perfectly balanced by her mother, who works off of numbers and steadfast vision.

They each produce their own candles and signature scents for their respective candle lines and come together for their ventures in The Pour Studio and private label candles.

Laurie’s line, Story Hills Candles, is more of a biographical collection— each scent tells the story of a moment in her life she processes through her candles. Her scents are calming and soothing, like your favorite blanket or a cup of tea; they bring up memories and whisper stories through the wick.

Breezy’s line, Magical Babe, is more evocative and all about setting intention. She develops her scents to evoke a feeling rather than a memory; her scents are introspective and complicated, challenging the user to dig deep and find within themselves the truth of their being and the comfort of the universe.

Together, Laurie and Breezy make up The Pour Studio. Newly settled into their space in Bozeman’s Cannery District, The Pour Studio

offers a chance to experience each of their candles in person, but more importantly, to pour your own custom candle. Their signature scents and empty vessels line the walls of the studio, and Breezy and Laurie’s calm expertise guide you through the process of creating your very own candle. They offer open pour hours during the day, a more casual affair where anyone can come in and create without a reservation, or the studio can be reserved for Private Pour Parties where the space is yours— offering you and your guests a more intimate experience to create together. Each scent bottle pulled off the studio wall represents the combined life experience of these two incredible women and your own interpretation, memories, or emotional reactions to the scent. It’s hard to narrow it down to just one, and even harder to wait the required

two weeks before burning it— the wax and fragrance oil need time to bind together.

When your two weeks are up and the candle wax and fragrance have fully “cured” and are ready to burn, you suddenly become aware of how you are burning this candle. Do you only have time for a short burn? You want your candle to reach a full melt pool on the first burn. Where are you going to burn your candle, what room is it going into, where will it sit, what part of it are you looking forward to the most?

I sat and watched the flame burn down the wick and melt the wax on The Pour Studio candle. The smell so strongly resembled the one I had just experienced in the woods that watching the flames

dance, I felt myself fall into an almost meditative trance. I was back in the woods, surrounded by pine trees and the quiet morning mist. The peace of mind I was looking for, the one I wanted so badly to bottle up and bring back with me from that trip, was right there with me. All it took was a candle full of intention and stories from two Montana women.

Chloe Nostrant is a writer, photographer, and artist (among other things) from Livingston, Montana. Finding stories in Montana’s vast landscapes, winding rivers, and saloons, she pulls inspiration from the characters born of these circumstances. Curious with how a place dictates the people, she travels around Montana and the American West documenting its people and places (and fishing its streams).

IMAGE BY ADRIAAN GREYLING

THE BEAUTY OF FALLEN SNOW

BY BARBARA FRASER

As I step into a season of dormancy, I feel relief.

By Autumn, I treasure a slower pace. I am not the person who laments the end of summer as others do. Bliss is the yellow, orange, and red brightness on the leaves of the branches. I watch the grey mists of the early morning when it folds into the dark blue valleys in the distance. I remember the first time I watched the sunlight filter through the falling needles of the larch tree— I was mesmerized as they spun and tumbled to create the silent carpet below.

I become excited at the prospect of throwing on sweaters and digging through my closet for just the right jacket. I must also include my gloves. Each pair of black leather gloves I own proved too perfect to resist; eventually I bought a navy pair to assuage any guilt. For a more casual look, I add colorful chunky knit gloves and mittens, like I am choosing rich, decadent desserts from behind the glass display case of a French bakery.

The amber glow of my strawberry leaves as I walked into my yard made me smile. I know that next spring, I will delight in each tender green leaf and become excited for the tiny strawberries I will pop into my mouth; but I loved the relief of each next sign as the aspen leaves twisted and turned as they fell to the ground too.

I have probably always known I would find the place where I really belonged. One of the hints as a child was when we would have frost covering the ground, and I would pretend it was the start of snow. I grew up with two seasons: sun and rain. I remember behaving like a small child the first time I saw hoar frost; it was magical in a way my mind could barely comprehend. I still feel the same way when I wake up in the morning and look out my windows to a fairy tale existence.

Eventually the snowflakes fell outside my windows and created the perfect blanket of snow, covering all the color. The relief of only having to shovel my sidewalks and walkways is pleasing and I rarely complain. Afterwards, I hustle back inside for hot tea and the view out the window of a job well done as the snow blows sideways. I do not miss dragging hoses all around the yard and watering every day, so my plants get the break from the heat they so desperately require.

I love the simple muted contrast of dark, barren branches and the many shades of white with the changing shadows throughout the day and even the deep black as the moon glows at night. My only requirement is the silent prayers for those out in the storms, and quiet whispers on behalf of my beloved trees and my cherished home as the wind rattles my windows.

I love the wool blankets that now are once again in their element at the ends of beds and tucked over chairs. I adore how these vintage items have been used in others people’s homes over the decades and that they are once again brought into service in mine. I love their muted colors and even their scratchy softness and treasure that this contradiction exists.

The Farmer’s Almanac predicted that we were in for some record-breaking cold with lots of snow and rain; it suggests we have flannels, hot chocolate, and snow shoes. I think that having my boots, all mucky and wet, sitting on the mat, is a perfect trade for the sandals tucked away for seven months in a basket.

Sometimes I wish we had bought a house with a fireplace. My husband and I often talked about how hilarious it was that we had access to free wood (my husband was a carpenter), and that in every house we rented, there had been a fireplace or stove; and yet when the time came for us to buy our first and only house there was only gas heat with two chimneys from years ago. It is my only regret with my home, but like many things in life, it is almost inconsequential compared to all that I love.

Our lives can change completely in an instant. They also change in small incremental ways with the average day. Because of this, I am very grateful for the constants. I love the faith that each evening, I will watch as the sun sets slowly against the horizon, bringing its golden glow into my bedroom windows as it also shines across my kitchen floor. Then after the stars have come out to play in the inky black night sky, the lightness will creep in against

my curtains, and the sun will shine upon a new day with its fresh experiences. It is this assurance that I value so much more than I did when I was young. I thought it was just about the weather all those decades ago— now I realize that it is so much more about the intimate changes in our lives and how we weather the storm.

Dormancy is about time outs, a break from a busy or even hectic life. It is about having the time to do the things that feed my soul and have no other agenda. I want to paint again, not because I am any good at it, but because it once made me happy. I love the time that allows me to give more attention to the books at my bedside that will come and go; a pile of books on my nightstand is a sign that I have found my way back to myself. I need to tuck into the blankets on my bed and escape into someone else’s life or some imagined story. The books by my couch are for a moment’s notice when they will take me out of the reality of the day and teach me some small bit of wisdom that I often find I need right at that moment.

To silence the world around me and quiet the thoughts that swirl in my mind actually brings me strength. I am better when I come out of this time, and so are the people around me. They have been given respite from my problems that I can lay at their feet in my moment of confusion or when I feel overwhelmed. I must learn

who I am, discover who I am becoming; this quiet time of the year helps me do just that. When I emerge, I am wiser, bolder, and more confident about whom I am becoming.

In these moments, I am able to be a better friend, offer wiser counsel, and see things with a clearer perspective— I am more myself. Facing the tough stuff, even the ugly stuff, is not for the faint of heart, but it is the most worthwhile act if we can find the courage to pursue it.

In winter, when life slows, I find the most precious beauty in my routines. There is a sense of calmness in the practices of everyday life. As I pull into myself and the quiet that surrounds me, I am learning to navigate this time more intentionally. I plan for it, not the specifics, but the possibilities. I think that the fact that I don’t have any strong expectations as to what it will look like or how it will come about is part of the secret of its success. Winter allows me to conserve my energy so I can grow on the inside and even keep this growth to myself where I can nurture it until it is revealed, just like the activity of the plant’s roots beneath the snow.

Spring will come, and I will once again burst forth with my next step. The rains will wash away the quiet of winter, and I too will emerge with the new ideas that are ready to be put into motion.

For now, I will delight in each new snowfall and the time I can call my own.

I will delight in each new snowfall and the time I can call my own.

magnetic

BY EMILY ADAMIAK

we seek nerve try heart rent in sense make between

IMAGE BY LUKE STACKPOOLE

Dear Megan,

I have been a subscriber of Montana Woman magazine since you became the owner/publisher, and I always enjoy it. I have to admit that I normally glance through it when it is received, then go back later to pick and choose which articles to read first, and within a few days, I have read it all. Unfortunately, when this issue arrived, I had house guests and projects that kept me from being able to sit down and enjoy the magazine. Finally, the time came and unbelievably when I opened it (I always read the “Letter from the Editor” first) I couldn’t stop! Each page (including ads) I read. I normally check out the first couple of sentences to see if my interest is held. I have to let you know that I read the whole magazine in one setting and you must know it is the very best issue you have ever produced! I loved every page! Congratulations and keep up the great work.

lessons 1-4

BY LENA MARIE SCHIFFER

1

I am learning my lessons as an aspen tree:

Connect my roots with others, forming a strong network amongst my kind. Wear my scars with beauty and pride, each one a tattoo well-earned on my body.

Grow towards the sun, and remember to rest on cloudy days.

Extend myself in a full display of green in the spring and summer, and leave in a fiery blaze in the autumn with no regrets.

Learn to let go of the work I have put in. Let my foliage fall gracefully to the ground, creating a rich blanket of golden mulch to insulate and feed the soil.

Sleep. When it matters the most, close my eyes in the depths of winter, reflecting on the past season so I can be born again with the first buds of spring.

2

I am learning my lessons as a dog:

Find the sunny spots to lie in and nap.

Look forward to every meal, and always hope one is around the corner. Get the “zoomies” and shamelessly run in circles, prancing and dancing and letting my legs take over.

Stay by my partner with a strong and unquestioning love.

Observe the world quietly with my nose and ears before speaking.

Occasionally taste things even if I shouldn’t, just to keep life interesting.

3

I am learning my lessons as the wind:

Take deep inhales and release a warm, calm breeze from within.

Know when to stay silent on certain days, so that others have the chance to speak.

Release my fury in powerful gusts for the times that I need to make my voice heard.

Raise white caps on the ocean, rustle the leaves of the trees, and howl in the middle of the night as a reminder to feel alive.

Learn how to be felt but not seen, depended on like a friend that lives far away.

4

I am learning my lessons as a silver hair:

Grow wild and wiry, standing apart from others.

Earn my place in the world through hard work and determination. Remember time is fleeting.

Honor my past mistakes and also my successes.

Mark my journey with a reminder of where I came from and where I am going.

Inch closer to becoming the wise elder that I look up to now.

LENA MARIE SCHIFFER is a full-time musician based in Bozeman, Montana. She tours nationally with the band Laney Lou and the Bird Dogs, and also has a folk duo with her husband called Canoe Dealers, and a solo project called Lucy in Flight. When she isn’t crammed in a van with her four bandmates, she can be found fishing, hiking, and spending time with her family.

PHOTOGRAPHY

THIS COULD BE YOU!

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everything takes practice

BY NICOLE DUNN

IMAGE BY ASHE WALKER

When it comes to learning and practicing the art of resting, it’s important not to think of the mind and the body as being two separate entities. On one hand, of course, the mind is the mind and the body is the body. The mind has its own unique functionings, and the body has its own unique functionings. Still, the mind and the body are in it together. They cannot be separated and do not operate independently from one another.

Have you ever spent time relaxing physically but not mentally? Of course you have! We all have! There we are, lounging comfortably on the couch, while our mind ping-pongs all around. We’re thinking about the conversation we had with so-andso yesterday; what we’re going to make for dinner later; our doctor’s appointment tomorrow; whether we remembered to change that lightbulb in the hallway, and on and on. Were someone to walk by, they might easily declare that we were resting. But looks can be deceiving.

Physical resting is one thing. But mental resting is a whole other ball of yarn. As the founder and program director of a weekly meditation group that’s been meeting for over 20 years, one of the most common things I’ve heard from folks is how they feel their mind is too busy to meditate. They feel alone in their struggle to rest their minds during meditation and many give up in the beginning, thinking there is something wrong with them because they can’t just turn off their mental chattering. But here’s the thing: we’re all experiencing the same thing! We should no more expect to know how to rest our minds, without training and practice, as we would expect to play a masterpiece of music on an instrument we just picked up for the first time. Everything takes practice, and the art of resting is no different.

For those interested in meditation, the practice is simple. Not easy, but simple. We practice to still the body and then, slowly, slowly, over time, our mind will start to follow. As we learn to rest in the stillness of our body, our mental gymnastics will start to slow down. We tune into the sensations of our breathing, noticing when thoughts arise, like clouds in the sky, and allowing them to pass through. When we notice we’ve once again been carried away by our thinking mind, we gently invite our attention back to our breathing, with friendliness. We do this over and over again. This can be a helpful training ground for learning how to rest our minds.

So, yes. Physical resting is important. And yes, mental resting is also important. And it takes practice, just like everything else. Continuous thinking and planning and worrying and over-analyzing can be exhausting. Learning how to rest our minds will take some time, but it’s work worth doing. Not only is it a self-care practice to be able to rest our active minds, but it will allow us to be more present and attentive with others as well.

There are myriad ways to help us learn how to rest. Whether it’s through the practice of meditation or another avenue, may we all invest in finding a supportive training ground that can help us to rest, in both body and mind.

NICOLE DUNN is a Missoula-based writer, community organizer, poet, ordained member of Thich Nhat Hanh’s Order of Interbeing, and program director of Be Here Now, a weekly mindfulness & meditation group she founded in 2002. For more info: InMindfulMotion.com

rest days and the myth of “no pain no gain”

By Mindy Cochran | Levitation Nation

IMAGE BY TOMMY TANG

MYTH: “Rest is for the weak”

MYTH: “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”

MYTH: “It’s the days when the body aches, desire is low, you feel tired & weak…those are the days when champions train”

Statements like these are meant to motivate people, but they go against my belief as an acrobat and as a personal trainer. “Champions” such as Olympians have teams of professional trainers and health professionals by their side, and I don’t believe they would let them train when they are exhausted and weak. This is simply a recipe for injury.

For us regular folks without our own personal team of health professionals, how do we know when to train and when to rest? The answer is simple: we need to listen carefully to the conversation our bodies are continually trying to have with us.

FOR EXERCISE: You have probably noticed how your muscles are sore following a good workout. Trainers refer to this as DOMS (Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness). This occurs because the weight-

lifting process creates micro-tears in the muscle, which is good because the muscle fiber that grows to repair the tear makes the muscle bigger and stronger. This repair process occurs during rest days. Not a believer in rest days? Then you are just continually tearing down the muscle, not giving it a chance to rebuild or repair, and are missing an essential part of the strength-building process. It is so important to take your rest days and listen to your body.

FOR DANCERS AND ACROBATS: Students of my classes at the Levitation Nation Aerial Studio in Kalispell hear me regularly say: “Discomfort is normal, pain is not.” It’s uncomfortable when you hold the pole between your legs and lay back? That’s normal...there are a lot of nerve endings in the upper thighs. On the other hand: do you have tendonitis you are ignoring? Or it’s incredibly painful when you <insert body part> while doing <insert movement>? Please stop immediately. Most skills will simply come in due time with practice but pushing your body too hard too fast will not serve you or your goals.

NEOCUTIS treats fine lines, wrinkles, dryness, UVA/UVB sun protection, and so much more. Ask us today how to incorporate NEOCUTIS into your skincare routine. We offer in person and virtual complimentary consultations.

ON INJURY REHABILITATION: If you have been injured, please seek out a good physical therapist and follow their guidelines to a T. If you are doing more than you are cleared for, you could make your injury worse. However, I will caution that if your physical therapist says you are fine but you don’t feel fine, get a second opinion, and a third if needed. Advocate for yourself and listen to your body.

However, there are things you can do on your days off to help you get (or stay) in shape and become a better athlete:

· CROSS-TRAIN. Did a strength training or aerial workout today? Go for a bike ride tomorrow.

· TRAIN AROUND INJURIES. For example: Is your knee giving you grief? Train your upper body and core instead (this is how I came out of three knee surgeries in killer shape).

· FOAM ROLL ANY DAY AND EVERY DAY.

· TRY YOGA OR STRETCHING. Working on flexibility is a great way to make gains on rest days.

· TAKE UP A SELF-CARE ROUTINE OR USE THE TIME OFF TO ASSESS (OR REASSESS) GOALS AND WHERE YOU ARE WITH THEM. I love guided journals for this.

It may take some time to learn how to really hear what your body is trying to tell you, but you will be better off for it once you get the hang of it. So let go of the guilt you have surrounding rest days and enjoy them!

Mindy Cochran is the founder of Kalispell’s Levitation Nation Aerial Studio, where the catchphrase “fitness is fun” is embodied alongside a culture of movement & women empowerment. Mindy believes that “The Real Levitation Experience” lies within elevating your health & wellness. Mindy loves to share the expertise she has acquired through her certifications as a personal trainer and life coach. For more about Mindy or Levitation Nation, please visit levitationnation.org

Aren’t there moments that are better than knowing something, and sweeter?

Snow was falling, so much like stars filling the dark trees that one could easily imagine its reason for being was nothing more than prettiness.

Mary Oliver (1935–2019) FROM “SNOWY NIGHT” (2002)

IMAGE BY EVAN LEITH

IMAGE BY CASEY HORNER

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the woodlands

From the garden we move out to the wild lands— quiet places to seek the unknown, embrace who we are. Moving between trees to delve further into hallowed ground, willing to wander as time is needed. Among branch and moss, fern and stream, to find ourselves in this place. To forage what we need, leave what we don't, and continue on the passage— finding refuge in and among each other as we carry on.

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