Unbridaled By Human Expectation

Unbridaled By Human Expectation: Montana Life

Sitting in the bleachers at the Three Forks, Montana rodeo last night, I people-watched. Montana remains a curious place to me.

Earlier in the day, Kathy and I were riding mountain bikes in what seemed like another world.

We climbed 2,700 feet to the mountain peaks we look at every day from the valley.

At the top, it’s like you can reach out and touch the hem of God’s robe.

Now we’re with thousands of people as the announcer starts to pray at the rodeo.

I could count on one hand the number of people who didn’t take their hats off.

In Montana, respect is something deeply ingrained in the people here.

The hats come off before the first word of a prayer is uttered.

You can see changes are coming.

I’m sure it feels like it did to us Oregonians years ago to Montanans today.

The migration of newcomers happened in Oregon decades ago.

Former Governor Tom McCall warned us.

He took much heat for welcoming Californians to visit, but in an ad campaign asked them not to stay.

They didn’t listen.

We didn’t take it seriously.

Oregon changed.

We can’t blame Californians for everything. LOL.

Now, Oregonians are looked down on just as much in places like this.

The COVID emergency sent folks like us to places more in line with our thinking.

Migration happens, but to the place of migration, the risk of losing what you have is great.

We can’t keep people from moving from one place to another.

It’s really up to us, the movers, to find a way to assimilate and get involved without lording our ways as the right way.

You can’t ruin one state, move to another, and expect the same ideology not to follow and do the same thing.

People in Montana are leery of strangers, for good reason.

But once they see you are not here to change the place, but to love it, most are welcoming.

It takes time.

I’m an Oregonian at heart, a Montanan by choice, but I wonder if my true nature is more of a nomad.

I’ve never liked the term “my forever home” because I know for a fact nothing on earth is forever, and my home is where Kathy and I are at that moment.

We don’t worry about where we end up, but also don’t want our roots to dig in too deeply that we can’t uproot our lives without too much trouble.

In a month, we have our first grandchild scheduled to arrive.

The Tiny Dancer will get a name, have a face, he’ll be a real person, and we will change again.

If I’ve learned anything in my 66 years on this earth, it is not to make too many plans.

God has a way of challenging us when we start thinking we’re in control of our lives.

The mortal man in me wants to control, the spiritual wants to go with the flow.

Fortunately, as we age the spiritual man wins more often.

My mind takes me back to the high mountain places, where we struggled to ride up the rugged hills of Montana yesterday.

I hear the whisper of God telling me, This is it, Rick, this is real life…now, go live it unbrideled by human expectation.