If you light a lamp for somebody, it will also brighten your own path.

The wonder of life is not so much finding out what, or why but simply celebrating is.

We are curious animals. We wrap ourselves into others' lives. Even the most well-meaning can get caught up in drama. We demand answers. We grapple with understanding. When things don't make sense to us, we get angry or confused.

Sometimes we are so caught up, we forget what is important.

There is a Zen proverb that says: "If you understand, things are just as they are; if you do not understand, things are just as they are." 


In other words, things are - as in, exist - whether we understand them or not. 


Sometimes life is perplexing. We cannot wrap our heads around the what or why or how. But, you know what? It doesn't matter. Because things are whether we want them to be, or not. 


What the heck is she talking about? Why doesn't she just get to the point? 

The Point 
Many people who were caught up in the drama of Melanie Gould's disappearance expressed anger and a self-righteous, need-to-know, deserve-to-know attitude when she recently emerged from the wilderness along the Denali highway in Alaska after being gone for 11 days. How could she have abandoned her dogs? they judged. What kind of person traipses into the wildness and abandons everything? they exclaimed.

They made demands: She should pay for all the time and effort spent searching for her. 

They qualified her actions: How could she have seen troopers searching for her and evaded them?  

They became angry. They attacked. 

Face it: we don't know the story. 


The story I do know - and one that scares me - is that within a little over a week, 3,200 people joined a Facebook page set up to show support for and help track down Melanie Gould. 


When she was found alive and in relatively good physical condition, however, some of those same 3,200 people turned on her, demanding answers. It seems we are more satisfied with grisly outcomes than happy endings. Some actually said she should have stayed missing - they were that angry that she was found alive and in decent physical condition. 


Wow.


As quickly as some will run to your rescue when you fall, when you get back up on your feet, they'll rip you limb from limb. 


Do we like seeing others' demise? 


Is human nature that twisted, sadistic and deviant? Do we have a sick fascination with watching others suffer? Receive a satisfaction from the pain of others?

Really?


I feel like Alice in Wonderland here, but, not in my world.

Why, in my world, we celebrate life. We are happy to receive each day as a blessing. We don't need to know why. 

It's called Karma. Gratefulness. Gratitude.


There is a Zen Proverb: "If you light a lamp for somebody, it will also brighten your own path." 


In Christianity, it's known as "The Golden Rule." Do unto others as you would have ...

In my world, I say welcome home, Melanie Gould. Haters need not enter here. This is a safe zone. 

There may be things to sort out, but for now, rest. Be safe. And...

"Have you seen Melanie Gould?" - a post for Melanie

Update: As of June 11, Melanie Gould has been found alive! What a relief! Here is a link to the story: http://www.alaskadispatch.com/article/missing-musher-melanie-gould-found-alive

Recently, a very disturbing thing has occurred within the mushing community.

I might preface this post by saying, when I say "community," I mean this in a very real sense. Mushers are a tight knit group; some of my best friends are hundreds of miles away. We communicate on a regular basis with one another, share tips, do favors, exchange "stuff."

Recently, 34 year old Melanie Gould, six-time Iditarod veteran, musher, massage therapist, baker and musician suddenly vanished on May 31, 2011.

Melanie Gould, Iditarod veteran, is missing

In some ways, I feel like it's not my place to write about Melanie's disappearance. I don't know her, and she is from a place that is 3,000 miles from my home.

But, for one, Melanie could be anywhere in the country at this point, so it seems relevant to distribute her picture and information about her as much as possible. 

On May 30th, Melanie clocked out of her work place like any other day around 5:30. There was no evidence that anything was amiss. When she didn't show up for work for two consecutive days, a search began for Melanie. Friends began to get concerned. They were even more concerned when they found Melanie's dogs were left without food at her residence, her cell phone found on the counter of her home, illustrating no evidence that she had intended to be gone for long.

And yet, she had been gone for days. 

Her truck was found on June 4 about 18 miles east of Cantwell, Alaska, a tiny town situated at the junction of the Denali highway.

Don't be fooled by the term "highway" in Denali Highway. This stretch of road is mostly gravel and not well traveled. Rustic in the highest form of the word.

Troopers reported that Melanie's truck was parked off the main highway "at the end of an old mining road that narrowed down to a four-wheeler path." Search dogs were called out, but eerily, the dogs turned up no sign of Gould's scent beyond her truck. It's as if Gould literally vanished into thin air.

As of yesterday, not even two weeks from the musher's mysterious disappearance, troopers officially halted the search for Gould citing trooper safety and no further clues as their reason.

Several friends and I have shared emails about Melanie's disturbing disappearance. Invariably a common theme runs throughout those correspondence. "It could have been me."

I've tried to process what this means. Clearly people are concerned about Melanie for more reasons than how it affects them.

I can only speak for myself, frame what Melanie's disappearance means to me, why I find it so disturbing.

Melanie lives for things that I think many mushers, including myself, live for. While I don't know her, I can tell from reading about her, seeing photos of her and learning about her that I would relate to her. She lives for solitude and simplicity, the beauty that can only come from a strong bond with animals and a connection to nature.

She's always described as hearty. The Alaska Dispatch quotes her friend, Amanda Randles, as saying, "Her toughness as a musher can’t be underestimated." People remark on a facebook page set up specifically for Melanie about how tough she is.

And while certainly this is undeniable, it seems to me the Dispatch forgot one key thing: Melanie is still only human. 

I recall a person who, just last year, asked me obnoxiously, "why do you always have to be so tough?" Dumbfounded by this statement, I replied that I am not tough at all; in fact, many who truly know me have said I am too sensitive.

There is a common misconception that because mushers can weather through the harshest conditions, muddle through pain and cold and sleep deprivation, that we are tough. 

Tenacity of spirit and a high tolerance for and patience with extreme weather and erratic sleep patterns does not make us invulnerable. 

And coming full circle, I'm reminded of just what I find so disturbing about Melanie Gould's disappearance. How can someone survive some of the most challenging trails and grueling mountains of the Iditarod trail not once, not twice, but six times and yet, potentially fall victim to her own demise? How can someone with so much survival savvy disappear?

Because no one is immune or tough enough to avoid their own humanness. We all have the ability to disappear from life at any moment. Melanie is a reminder that, as my friends have said, if it can happen to her with all of her stamina and prowess, it can certainly happen to anyone.

Having said that, Melanie (and really any Iditarod musher) is tough as nails. I pray daily that her "toughness" helps her to triumph over whatever adversity she faces. I think of her - this woman I don't even know - every night when I go to sleep and I think of her when I open my eyes. I pray for her and for her family and friends to have the strength to come out on top.

Here is a candle, Melanie.

Granted, it is a virtual candle, but the beauty of that is it will never go out, never die down. I leave it here, lit for you on this blog, until you are safely returned to your pack.

Now more than ever, I write this with "mush love."