What might have been

Yesterday I found an old note from a boy I once loved. Still love, really. Differently.

It wasn't a love letter. It wasn't spectacular or awesome or particularly poetic. It was a simple note from a friend. About a friendship; a shared experience.

And it made me bawl.

Just for 30 seconds. But it was so sudden I was taken completely by surprise at my own emotions. Why did this strike me so powerfully? Why was I so overwhelmed in that moment? Was I sad? Nostalgic? Happy? I think it was all of those things really. But not quite any of them. Reading that note in simple black ink on plain sheets of lined yellow paper, I was completely engulfed, for those few seconds, in the possibilities that existed then that have since passed me by. I was suddenly back in a place that I have left. A time that is completely gone. And with it have disappeared moments and opportunities and potential that were very real for me then. Things that once could have been, but now will never be.

It's not sad, really. It's not a bad thing that life moves forward and some possibilities fade from view. There are always others that move in to take their place. The old cliche, one door closes and another door opens. True enough. Usually. A forgone opportunity is not the end. Some other hopeful potential will find its way into your life.

But still.

Not all doors are the same. Not every possibility is comparable. It would be ridiculous to weigh the un-happened of the past to the not-yet-occurred of the present. The hypothetical can only be imagined and predictions are dangerously unreliable. Yet, while knowing the reality of those possibilities is beyond our reach, it is easy enough to see that the outcomes would have been different. For good or bad. Better or worse. Every "might have been" is an unknown road into a life you will never lead. And while it is important to embrace the present and the opportunities we do have, here and now, perhaps there is nothing wrong with mourning, for a moment, from time to time, the little things that have slipped away. That have moved from the realm of potential into that of unreality.

And sometimes, it's just good to really cry.

An elementary course on making friends

Today when I got to school one of my students looked up at me and excitedly shrieked, "Messy hair!!!"

After feeling embarrassed for a few moments, I decided she actually must have just felt a special connection to me, since her pretty blond hair is regularly a bit of a rat's nest. And it made me a little more okay with her pointing out that I am sporting a slightly more disheveled look today.

Only second to the enjoyment my students get when my hair is a disaster is how pleased they are when I flip out and jump "5 feet in the air" when the fire alarm goes off. They could laugh about that for hours!

And they did.

Actually.... they still are.

Demonstrations in liberty

These days there seems to be plenty of room to doubt the "Of the people, by the people, for the people" ideal that has historically been, at least in theory, the backbone of our nation. How much does your voice really matter? How often is the average person heard? Aren't our questionable politicians and big businesses really running the show these days? If you don't make millions, does your citizenship even count?

I know I sound like a pessimist, and there are certainly times when I feel that way. I seriously question at times how much of a difference I can make. And I don't think I'm the only one. That is one factor, I believe, in the increasingly whinny, but persistently inactive political discussions that I hear coming from all directions most of the time. And even if it isn't exactly excusable, it is certainly understandable. Many of us don't feel like there is much we can actually do to make a difference.

But in reality, I don't think it's true. We, all of us, individuals, can actually have a great impact on our nation, our communities and even the world. We just have to know where to look and do the things we really can do. Just as one important, if slightly odd, example are online petitions.

Yes, yes. I know what you're thinking. Those lame emails and Facebook promptings we all get to "sign your support" and "join the petition" to change the world. Can those possibly be more than some cheesy gimmick? Can typing your name on a list actually make a difference? And isn't that a pretty silly and even lazy way to "make a difference"?

Maybe. Yet I still think that, in some ways, these online petitions are actually a beacon of hope and an updated nod to a past of political and social activism that can appeal to many people living in today's digital world. Pledging your support on a petition can make the difference necessary to sway political decisions and show where public opinion really lies on important issues. There are many sites these days like Change.org that allow people to make online petitions and rally for support from unknown strangers who commiserate with the originator's concerns. And together, they actually do change things. From legislation to store policies to justice for the falsely accused or support for causes from around the world, many of the petitions get enough signatures to get noticed at least. And sometimes they even succeed in making an important change! Rather often.

So, is it worth it to sign an online petition? I think so. At least, I think it is if you care about the issue being petitioned and you are someone who think wants to be involved in righting wrongs and affecting change.

Now, I don't pretend that signing petitions, even if you did it all day everyday, would amount to being actively involved in making the world a better place or would suffice in doing our civic duties. There are far too many people who need our help and far too many projects that need hands and brains and hearts invested in making them work. We can and should be involved in every way we can.

Yet, there is something very beautiful about the power of people coming together, even it is just online. Because we do have a say. We do make a difference. And the things you sign your name to do say something about who you are and what you stand for. It is important to make those things known.

By the way, this all came up because of this petition to help save wolves. I signed it and you might want to too. Or not. All I'm saying is, don't discount the small things. In the end, they do all add up. Sometimes I think it is in the small things that we will find the greatest hope.

26.2

Birdie and I finished a marathon!

Last weekend my sister and I flew to Orlando to run a marathon with our aunt at Disney World. It was fun/hard/rewarding/painful/long/awesome/FINISHED! It was especially wonderful running and training with my sister and being there with my aunt. Plus, if you're going to run 26 miles, I suppose Disney World isn't the worst place to do it!!

I have to confess though, I don't think I'll do it again. Too hard on the old body for me! So, after marathon #1, I am officially retiring from my marathoning career. But I'm glad I did it once. Now at least I know I can. And that is something to be pretty amazingly grateful for!

My sister, aunt and I all done!

The whole running crew with our medals!
My aunt's running group let us wear their team shirts..
"Will Run For Food!"
Right up my ally.

once upon a time it was the year 2012

and in that year I did not die. Though perhaps I went into hiding for a bit. Maybe I haven't come out yet completely. But I can't move on without saying something.

Last year was... not really a year. It was not one. A whole. A unified entity.

I think of last year and I feel I lived so many lives in so little time. It is a little scary. And a little hard to explain--being many people. And yet only one.

2012 started smack dab in the middle of my life in Spain. I rang in the new year with my Spain family in the living room of that house where I lived that part of my life. We celebrated with food and dancing and music and joy. Just a year later and it feels like an eternity ago.

The women of my Spain family!

A reason to go home.  (photo by Spencer Boerup)

A month later, in February, I was home. I was celebrating again. This time, the marriage of a dear best amazing darling friend. It was like being picked up and dropped, for a few days, right into the middle of a life I hadn't lived for years--my friends and family together again for the first time in more than a year for some of us. It was magical. And hard. And wonderful and frightening and short.



Within a week, I was back in my Spain life. Teaching. Traveling. Hanging out with friends and alone and living as if it was all normal and real. Dating and breaking up. Laughing and crying and just being. Until it was done. And there were goodbyes and endings and unanswerable questions about futures. As there usually are.

Half way through 2012. Just turned 25.
Florence, Italy.

I left Spain on my own. I spent my 25th birthday as a tourist somewhere in Tuscan Italy, in the middle of a new adventure that was, for the first time, mine alone. Post-Spain. Pre-NewTucson. I wandered through Italy and fell in love with the beautiful landscapes and churches and paintings and history. I drifted through Paris and was enchanted with everything, even though it was sometimes cold, even in July. I ate the best falafel of my life and entered the homes of great artists and felt like the very air there made the world and people and myself lovelier somehow. I decided that my next language would be French.

(I'm not joking, but I should be.) 

Dad and me at The Alhambra.
Granada, Spain.

Days later, in mid-July, I was traipsing through southern Spain with my Dad. Driving on back roads through beautiful countryside. Hiking through otherworldly rock formations. Floating in the salty sea waters of the Mediterranean. Trying to take it all in. But already being pulled into what was next.

When I arrived in Tucson at 11:30 pm on July 29, I was already scheduled to attend training for my new job at 8 am the next morning. In the most unlikely turn of events, I was already a teacher. A 4th grade teacher at a little charter school. And the next unbearably new part of my life had started.   right at the end of July. Without pomp or ceremony. Without time to wrap anything up or become (re)acquainted with this new home. What was had ended and what would be was already bulldozing a new path I hardly had time to consider before launching myself into it.

The last 5 months of 2012 were a blur. A terrifying, glorious mess. An education and a re-education. A new beginning. A return to the past. I still hardly know what to do with those months. They disappeared faster than my brain could take them in. I was home for the first time in 6 months or 7 years, depending on how you look at in. But really, I was in a new life and a new place, not even knowing the street names (anymore). There was no time to think or process, there was barely time to breathe. Luckily, I had my family. My friends. Such good friends! And zumba classes and running and great co-workers and funny moments and busy-good weekends. I even went rock climbing--a new love!

Then it was over.

Well, sort of. Because the year and the phase are not the same thing.

I still don't know what to make of 2012. Except that it is all a blessing. One more piece of my life. Of my heart. Of my soul. Of who I am and will be. Whoever that is.

With that, I wish you all an abundance of peace and love, wherever this crazy life takes you!
xo

Where the world is.

I struggle sometimes, finding myself stuck in the space between the glorious, miraculous, heart-breakingly beautiful, incomprehensibly wonderful fullness of the world and the horrendous, tragic, painful, insensibly cruel side of the same. There is so much more than meets the eye. Everything seems so confused and clouded and complicated. And yet, starkly simple. At the core.

Most of the time, of course, I am just not thinking. I am just living. Trying to make my way through each day with a shred of dignity and, if I'm really lucky, something to feel good about. Something accomplished. I spend most of my time oblivious and drifting. Not reflecting and connecting the various threads of life and thought and emotion that pass through any given day.

But I can't ignore it all for long. Neither the overwhelming goodness and beauty I receive constantly from friends and strangers and family and the World and the Divine. That astonishing generosity and love that exists all around. In the giant bursts or in tiny, hidden corners. Nor the terrible, miserable realities that are constant and undeniable and truly unthinkable, unimaginable and all too real near and far and everywhere all at once. And I find I am not always prepared to hold it all within me. I vacillate from one extreme to the other. Crying tears of joy. Calling out curses to the anguish. Laughing. Laughing because there is nothing more to do--because it is ridiculous and tremendous and incoherent.

Mostly, my heart doesn't know exactly where to land. It is tugged and torn in two. Divided between the good and bad. The beautiful and the hideous. The hopeful and the hopeless.

 Hope. Or. Hopeless.

There I hang. Paralyzed. Wanting to reach for the joyous and the great. To fall firmly on the beautiful land of love, prettiness, kindness, generosity. Yet, I cannot turn my back on the hateful and the mean and the indifferent. Needing to look them square in the face and fight with all my heart. Yet I don't quite.

Instead I float. In the middle. Neither loving nor hating the world. NO! Both loving and hating the world. Despising and loving mankind more than I even know how. Discovering great leaps into a better world. Seeing the degradation and destruction we have caused. Unsure how to tie them together. How can they both exist, side by side? Contradicting and cancelling each other out. Why must there be a tragedy alongside every miracle? Is it necessary to accompany every gain with an equal and opposite loss? Somewhere. For someone. Are we just running in place... for every leap forward another stagger back? Is this inevitable? Can it ever end? Do we want it to? Enough? But really. really. ENOUGH!

That's where I always end up.

I believe there is hope. So, SO much hope.
If we want it. Really, really want it.
Enough to accept everything that comes with it.
Even the inconvenience. The sacrifice.
Because there has to be sacrifice.

Yes, I believe there is hope.
And we can choose it.
Or not.

I guess that's why it's hope.
There is no guarantee.
There is no promise.
Instead, endless and never-ending

POSSIBILITY.

Anticipation

I keep thinking back to 4 years ago. The first time I voted. When I read everything everywhere and after careful thought and preparation, I felt excited and certain about who I should vote for. I was so thrilled to take part in this democratic election ritual.

And I remember when President Obama won. I remember I was in the computer lab in the library typing up some paper, when suddenly there was a shout from somewhere in the foyer. Someone rejoicing. And then the word spread like fire throughout the library and whispers exploded in joy or disappointment. I remember my pride: in my country, my fellow citizens, in people in general. For making what was, in my opinion, the best decision. I remember recognizing that this was a historic moment in our country's history. And it proved me wrong in some of my doubts about the goodness and pureness of people's intentions and views.

In short, I was ecstatic. Full of hope and optimism for the future.

So, things haven't gone quite as planned. I'm not as intense about my feelings in the election this year. I still support President Obama. But maybe with a little less enthusiasm.

Not because I actually think he has been a terrible President like some people. Or because I am less certain about which candidate I support. I am just as sure who I want to win. And I think that Obama has done some good, though certainly he has not been perfect.

Still, I am not so enthused. I am excited to vote. I am grateful for this privilege to express my voice about who will lead my country. I am not unaware of how blessed we are to have the right to participate in the election of our leaders and to express our hopes, fears, disappointments and discontents. It's a great thing.

Only, the difference this time is that I am less hopeful about our attitude as citizens. And the election season hatefulness has not encouraged me much.

I remember how much President Bush was raked over the coals during his Presidency. I guess I thought that was just because people were so completely unhappy with him. I didn't expect the same negativity to continue almost without missing a beat into a new presidency.

I don't pretend that there are not reasons to complain and find fault. In fact, that's my very point. There always will be. There always have been. Unfortunately, if that is where we continue to focus, I truly believe that we will never be satisfied. We will never progress. There will never be real, meaningful change in our nation.

So, I will vote. And I will hope and pray for (what I consider) a favorable outcome in the elections.

But what I want, more than anything, is peacefulness. Helpfulness. No matter what happens, I hope I can do my best to be an asset to my country. I hope my voice can spread hope and love and joy. I hope that even if I disagree with some ideas, that I will find solutions. I hope that we as a nation can gripe a little less and change a little more.

As my mom always taught me, "Be a problem solver!"

Her advice never goes out of style.

Happy voting! Be safe out there!

Oh, and also this:

Avoiding. But not giving up.

Every few days I look at my blog, as if to see if by some miracle something has been mysteriously posted there without my knowledge. (hope hope hope)

But alas, nothing new has appeared. And while I have felt increasingly guilty for my neglectfulness (why? how? I am accountable to no one for this blog... and yet...), I have been avoiding it. The truth is, every time I consider writing I either feel suddenly void of anything worthwhile (SPELLING WORD!!.. for my 4th graders) or have too many half-developed, unconnected semi-thoughts running through my mind to decide what I should actually put into a post. My last few (and far between) posts have reflected this dearth of inspiration and I am really quite ready to replace them with something more interesting, thoughtful and important. There are unlimited possibilities to solve this dilemma, but I am either too lazy or too dull to make them work of late.

I am trying to do better.

For now I will just share this:

'Cause even the stars they burn 
Some even fall to the earth 
We've got a lot to learn 
God knows we're worth it 
No, I won't give up 

I don't wanna be someone who walks away so easily 
I'm here to stay and make the difference that I can make 
Our differences they do a lot to teach us how to use 
The tools and gifts we got yeah, we got a lot at stake 
And in the end, you're still my friend at least we did intend 
For us to work we didn't break, we didn't burn 
We had to learn how to bend without the world caving in 
I had to learn what I've got, and what I'm not 
And who I am 

I won't give up on us 
Even if the skies get rough 
I'm giving you all my love 
I'm still looking up 
Still looking up.

Gorgeous words. Beautiful. I am feeling the need to get up and get moving. To do more. To be more. This song reminds me of the hope there is in the world. The never-ending supply of loveliness. The strength and depth of the human spirit. And I can always use that.

Enjoy.

Time tricks

I told myself I needed to apply to jobs before I left Spain. Before I traveled. Before I got home. I wanted to be prepared. I wanted to be responsible. And I didn't really believe it would make any difference anyway.

In the back of my mind I had a plan. I would relax. Re-adjust. Unpack. And slowly dip my toes into working. Maybe I'd start part-time. I'd work at Bookmans and revel in the calm bookstore atmosphere, traipsing around between the bookshelves full of delightful used old books. I'd love it. And it would be relaxing and low-key. And I would just take it easy. Or something.

Little did I know that something else awaited me. A crazy whirlwind that would leave me less than 8 hours difference between the time my plane landed back home and the time I had to to work the next day. Little did I know that from that first day on I would be swamped with paperwork, planning, organizing,  preparing and arranging. Little did I know that being an elementary school teacher would put me in over my head more than I have ever been before. And I am in way over my head.

But I'm glad that's the way it turned out. I never saw myself as a 4th grade teacher. And I am not sure if I do even now. Yet, that's what I am, for the time being. And for the last three weeks I have been thrown into the midst of a new world. A world where everything is so simple and yet so unbearably complex all at once. Where every day there is something new. There is constantly something fabulously sweet or beautiful or valuable. And also something so utterly frustrating and incomprehensibly ridiculous I don't know how I am going to stand it. I reach the end of each day exhausted. I am asking everyone questions. I am searching for new answers and solutions, learning something I thought I knew all over again. Seeing everything from a new angle and trying to figure out what that means and how to deal with it.

And mostly, since I got back home, just 3 weeks ago, I am wondering why the days are shorter than ever before. How time seems to run out so quickly and why there is never never time for everything. Not nearly.

Of course, that really shouldn't surprise me. Time has always been the greatest trickster. So, I guess nothing is new after all. It's all just the same story over and over again.

And it's good to be back.

On your mark... Get set...

Let the travels begin!

Wish me luck, adventures and serenity (because I'm a little nervous!! in addition to very excited!!).

First stop: Roma

PS. Please send good luck vibes

that I won't forget to charge my camera battery.

That's the WORST!

(Well, you know, of the

safe and alive

kind of problems.)

Belief in everyone

How much do most of us really know about other people's beliefs? How often do we generalize, stereotype and hold prejudices against certain groups of people for the things the believe, or don't believe in (or that we think they believe)?

If you ask me, too often. And it's sad.

On the blog FIXES from the New York Times, David Bornstein dedicated the latest article to an organization working to improve interfaith relations and dialogue. The Interfaith Youth Corps (IFYC) works with college students to "develop greater respect, comfort and appreciation for one another and their traditions." Bornstein, and the founders of IFYC, believe that in the United States we have embraced many forms of diversity and multiculturalism--we talk freely about race, sexual orientation, gender and ethnicity--but talking about people's cherished believes is still a sticking point. It's heated, taboo and often conversation on faith lacks real understanding, openness and respect.

I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (as most of you probably know). A Mormon. And that does define certain aspects of my life, my character and my worldviews. But I am still a unique person with a personal set of values and experiences and ideas, some of which relate to my religion and some of which do not. Like most people.

The thing is, when I know someone personally I usually have no problem with him or her and others don't seem to have a problem with me either, whatever our differences in faith (and other beliefs for that matter). On a personal and individual basis it doesn't seem like much of a problem to talk to, relate to or even have close relationships and friendships with people who believe differently. I have rarely experienced prejudice, intolerance or unkindness directly (though that is not true for all people, unfortunately). In my experiences, most people are able to talk to and respect individuals, but then can easily turn around and speak about other faiths, religious practices and beliefs in derogatory, limited and sometimes quite ignorant ways.

Where I see this most blatantly, is in the media (though among peers, coworkers, students, etc it happens too). In politics, of course, but also in TV shows and movies, religion and religious people are usually presented in very stereotypical ways. As a group of semi-ubiquitous characters with the occasional distressed questioner/doubter/outsider. But the reality isn't that way. As Bornstein says, "The worst thing society can do is to continue what it’s doing today: allowing attitudes to be shaped by the shrillest voices, the voices of intolerance, political expedience and xenophobia. 'If we don’t talk openly about faith and bring people from different traditions together, we forfeit the conversation to people who are happy to build barriers.'”

Reading about IFYC, I love the idea. It is true that we are only going continue increasing in diversity and we need to know how to deal with that. David D. Putnam, a political scientist who studies diversity and community, says it clearly: “It’s not just the presence of diversity in your neighborhood [that is important]. You’ve got to actually be doing things with other people in which you have a personal attachment. Diversity is hard, not easy.”

So IFYC helps push this  along by starting interfaith service projects, discussions and activities based on common values. As one Muslim student from Georgetown University explained, "Interfaith work isn’t about watering down our religion and coming to some consensus about things. . . . It’s about building relationships so we can together serve others.”

In the world we live in today, it is important to recognize that no one person, group or religion can succeed alone. If we want to make better communities, nations and ultimately a better world it means working together. And that has nothing to do with being in agreement, whether it is religion, politics or otherwise. There will always be differences. Always. It means knowing how to understand, respect and work with others in productive ways. It means being open to new ideas and it means knowing how to see people as individuals with value, no matter what their background.

One student said,  “it’s important to remind [students] that they don’t have to speak for their whole religion. They’re just there to talk about their faith or beliefs in a personal way.” What more can any of us do? What more can we expect from our neighbors and friends and acquaintances? And why don't we do more of that?

Recently I met a girl, a friend of a friend, while on a trip. She and I started a conversation in which we talked a little about our religious beliefs. She's Catholic and, as I said, I'm Mormon. We talked about things that were important to us about our faiths. We discussed why we choose to practice our religions. In all, it was a wonderful experience for me and I gained a great deal of respect for her and her personal faith. One thing she said to me, as we were talking, that stood out then and even more now, was, "Why is it so hard to talk about religion?" She said it was often uncomfortable to discuss faith among friends and acquaintances, and I have to say, I agree with her. And it shouldn't be that way.

If we want to gain greater love and respect for others, we have to be willing to share as well as to listen. And do so with openness and respect. As I said before, in my experience when religion is brought up I have rarely, if ever, had a negative experience. But it is true that it is often a topic we tiptoe around. Lets not! For most of us, our faith (whatever form it takes) is important to us, and there is nothing wrong with talking about it!

Interfaith travel... you've gotta try it! :)

When my students asked me

the definition of foster I excitedly told them that to foster is to...

encourage or promote the development of (something, typically something regarded as good). To cherish, raise up, nurture...*

thinking they were extra engaged in the article we were reading and interested in learning some new vocabulary. Yay for English! They actually care!

Then one of them said "Oh cool. I was just wondering because there's this band called Foster the People."

Yeah, really? Too bad, "foster the minds of Spanish youth learning English" doesn't have quite the same ring to it. Then maybe they'd listen to me too. Maybe.**

It's okay though, because Foster the People really does make good music. And now my students are practically guaranteed to remember at least one word we learned this year! Success!

Anyway, I haven't been as diligent about posting music this week as I originally intended (shocking I know). But I ran into this lovely song, "Ruby," by, have you guessed?? Why yes, that one group.. something akin to Encourage the Human Race, or was it, oh yeah! Foster the People. Yeah, them. Anyway, I love the song. And I thought I'd also add an acoustic version of some FosterthePeople favorites from NPR's Tiny Desk Concert series. If you're anything like my students (and me), you'll love it!






What else should I be listening to friends? I need your expertise!

*well, I'm sure I said something like that

because when you're an English teacher you're expected to know the exact definition of 

EVERY ENGLISH WORD

at any given moment.

And if you don't, you make one up.

Definition via

**Also, that class are actually excellent students,

 the little smarties!

If only everything were this easy!

"If you believe that earth’s natural resources are limitless, which maybe was excusable 100 years ago but is the height of ignorance now,  or that “technology will fix it” or that we can simply go mine them in outer space with Newt Gingrich, I guess none of this worries you. But if you believe in reality, and you’d like that to be a place that your kids get to enjoy, this is a big deal."

Today I read a NYTimes article called We Could Be Heroes. Intriguing, right? Who doesn't want to be a hero? So, what's the key? Essentially, the article is about a very simple, immediate way in which we can influence the world, particularly climate change, increasing greenhouse gases, diminishing land, forests, flora (and with it the loss of and endangerment of many species), etc. Can you guess what it is? The simple, small change we can make TODAY that could make the kind of difference in the world that new technologies, research, electric cars and renewable energy sources can't begin to match (at least for the time being)?

Yep. EATING LESS (or no) MEAT.

Okay, I know what you're thinking. This is one of my pet subjects. I am always harping on about the pros of vegetarianism (which isn't actually even necessarily what the article is promoting). But it's true. Read the article.  Read what I posted here about a myriad of other reasons to make the switch (or read Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer. Great book.). But whatever you do, please at least consider the way you are eating and the affects your daily consumption has on your life, the planet, our future and the future of our children. It's at least worth giving a little thought! Especially since I can promise from experience, eating less or no meat truly is EASY! It takes a little extra thought, especially at first, and maybe some adjustment. But today there are so many options available to us that avoiding meat is no biggie in terms of sacrifice. Yet it can have a huge influence when it comes to impact!

I feel GREAT!

On my last day in London, on Easter, I had the terrible stomach cramps. The I think I might pass out/throw up in the middle of the street kind. So I picked up some Ibuprofen at the drug store and popped my usual 2 pills*. After about 45 minutes I was feeling fantastic! Really perfectly, wonderful! I commented to my friend that these pills really did their job! I was thrilled.

It wasn't until just now when I looked in my medicine cabinet at the ibuprofen I had brought with me from the US that I realized that the pills I took in London are double the dose of my normal medication (200mg to the usual 100). So... oops. hehe.

But if you happen to be wondering, taking the equivalent of 4 ibuprofen IS effective for pain relief. You will feel spectacular. Though I don't know if it is necessarily advisable on a regular basis. Still, thank goodness for those pills or I would probably have spent my last day in London writhing in pain.

God bless the beautiful UK!

(and her double dose drugs!)

*just in case you're worried:

the box said I could take 2 of the double duty English ibuprofen,

so I probably won't die.

yet.

Revelations

They say that if you rinse your hair in cold water after a shower it will be shinier.

The thing is, when I tried it I realized is that I have no chance whatsoever of holding up under torture. I can't even handle standing in a cold shower for three seconds.

Why that was the thought that came to my mind, I'm not sure, but I couldn't get the image of Jennifer Garner in her TV series Alias out of my mind. Do you remember that show? I used to watch it with my mom and I remember enjoying it. Now, reflecting back (with my vague and possibly inaccurate memories of the show) I can't quite recall the appeal. In fact, in recent years I have become exceptionally averse to most forms of violence on TV or in movies. I make exceptions when I feel the film or documentary has a particularly important and thoughtful message, but I at times find myself repulsed by action films and super-hero movies. To me they seem so careless; so crude and ugly and sad. Often these films seem to trivialize the real effects of violence, conflict and war. They tend to paint good and evil in clear opposition to one another; everything is black and white. Sometimes we even want people to die, or we don't think twice when there are people left injured or killed on the sidelines. For me it's all rather sickening.

I can't recall exactly when or why my view of these depictions started changing. Probably about the time I went to college and just a small piece of the protective bubble of privilege I have always lived within lifted to show me something of what reality looks like outside of my own little world. And the more I read and see and learn the less entertaining violence becomes and the more upsetting it is, even if it is just "pretend." Because I know that often these films are nonchalantly depicting horrors that really happen. Or if not, they are showing violence in such a casual manner that it seems like a slap in the face to every man, woman and child who has truly suffered--whether it be from war or genocide, rape or domestic abuse, or any act of hatred or anger or meanness. It doesn't seem funny or entertaining or glamorous anymore. It turns my stomach and makes me morn for the society we live in that can turn a blind eye to real suffering and then, for financial gain, use stories of violence as a form of entertainment.

I know sometimes I take things too far. I can be a stick-in-the-mud and read too much into things. But I think sometimes, too, we don't read enough into things. We don't think enough about what we see and hear and read and learn. We disconnect from reality and let ourselves pretend that everything is well. And lets be honest, we all know it's not. I promise, teaching a teenagers is a great way to be reminded yourself of how gloomy things can potential be (the little downers!). Yet in truth I am really hopeful for the world and for society. Even though I am disappointed that the progress and advances in our societies have often only led to more destructive weapons and wars; to new kinds of dominance and oppression; to greater disparities between the rich and the poor.

But I don't think it has to be that way. I don't think we are destined to be hateful and selfish and violent. We have a choice and I believe that we can, and I hope that we will, change for the better. It comes down to the decisions we make and the way we choose to see the world and those we share it with. It comes down to how much we are willing to change and adapt in the name of the better good. I think in some ways we are going to be forced to change in the near future. But I hope we will also choose to change because we care about the world we live in and we see others as equally valuable as ourselves.

Anyway, that's what the kind of thing you think when you freeze your brain in the shower in the hopes of shinier hair. It's dangerous business.

Humans

"Later Lin understood about her grandmother not wanting to think about the past. Auntie, Grandmother's sister, told Lin how the old woman had been raped and left for dead, cut at the neck. Auntie said she found her, the woman's long hair red with blood all about her neck and shoulders. Auntie grabbed her and lifted her. 'You! Sister, wake up! You are breathing!' Auntie yelled. By some miracle, the artery was not cut, even though Grandmother thought she was dead, wished she was, and lay back weak and limp, but she was yelled into life by a woman almost too thin to have a voice.

"[I]t was why Grandmother always wore one of her two scarves. It was why here eyes saw only as far back as they would; not far. . . .

"Lin buried her head against her great-aunt's chest. 'Is it human?' Lin asked. 'To do that. Is it human?'

". . .'Yes. I think it is human. There is so much to a human.'

'Does it have to be?'

'I don't know.' She braided the child's hair. 'But that's enough for now. There's only so much a girl can hear.' Just then there was a gunshot in the distance.

"Later, when they were down in the reddish sand by the water, she held Lin and said, 'I'm sorry.' Crying.

"Lin studied her face, to see what she meant. She looked at her fine nose, her cheek that seemed dented, her eyes. Lin said, 'I know. You're sorry about humans.'

"Auntie nodded, hiding her face."

-Linda Hogan, The People of the Whale

I can barely begin to explain the beauty and the tragedy and the redemption of The People of the Whale. Reading it at times was like being inside the minds and hearts of people both magnificent as well as deeply wounded. This passage sums up one of the overarching themes of the book: the capacity for humans to hurt, torture, lie, and kill--each other, other creatures, nature, society--anything and everything around them. The depths of disgrace to which they can succumb when they are not whole; when they are lost and afraid and have traded in their hearts for a sense of personal survival or desire. It is tragic and terrible.

I too have questioned the ugliness that exists within humanity and even lamented being a part of a race with such a capacity for cruelty; so fallible; so easily broken and twisted and led astray.

And yet.

In life, in this world, (and in The People of the Whale) alongside every act of disgrace there is also beauty. For every broken soul there are others working to rebuild; to strengthen; to teach. Just as the world is full of hatred and woundedness, it is also ripe with compassion and healing. And the horrors and glories of humanity are mingled together and twisted into our histories and our lives in ways that cannot be easily separated and explained. It is all too complex. Too intertwined. Too deeply connected in every aspect of life and our very beings. I wonder if it is even possible to delve deep enough into the human heart and spirit to comprehend the disparate halves of our being and the incongruencies of goodness and evil that are among us and within us.

Really and truly, "There is so much to a human." Beautiful and terrible. Miraculous and sorrowful. I don't really know what else to say about that. I don't know how to accept it, to live with it, to assimilate that reality into my understanding of the world. But I see it, constantly. And I know it is part of me too; that I contain both good and evil; that I have beauty, but also brokenness. In the end I just hope that we can find ways to bring all of that together; that we can heal those parts of us all that have suffered and unify our goodness and compassion and love. I think it is possible. I pray it is.

image: Linda Hogan

Overwhelmed? Make a list.

For the past week I haven't closed my internet browser because I have been saving articles and videos that I wanted to post about. But now that I have them all piled up, I also don't have the energy to post about them all separately, so this is a listed post of some interesting finds (or shared from others) this week:

• First, Joanna Brooks. An "unorthodox" Mormon woman who is standing up both for her religion as well as her desire to see change and openness within this religious culture. I really admire her and relate to much of that she has to say.
• It Only Takes a Girl. Beautiful and lovely (and reminiscent of the Girl Effect videos in some ways). It made me cry. Here it is:
• Really amazing letter from a former slave to his former master. Definitely worth reading!
• I really related to the author of this article. Like him, and many others, I strongly support Planned Parenthood, while also being Pro-Life (though the terms "pro-life" and pro-choice" are not my favorites, since I don't think those who support abortion are necessarily against life and that those who oppose abortion are also opposed to choice... but anyway...). And here is chart (plus article) talking about what Planned Parenthood really does and where their money goes.Targeting Planned Parenthood as a means of reducing abortion and unwanted pregnancy is completely misguided and ignorant! I personally do believe that unborn babies should be protected, but I also believe that women and expecting mothers, whatever their circumstances, must receive the best support and assistance possible. It is both women and children who suffer from this battle. And it makes me really sad!
• I also want to put in a general plug for the NYTimes FIXES blog that posts great ideas about development every week (since I have about 3 of their articles half read right now... I'm easily distracted...). Their goal is to find great ideas that are actually working well. Af there is almost always a follow-up article that addresses questions and comments about each "fix." Some of them are really interesting. You should check it out!
• Finally, I just read this article talking about the idea that we would live in a more peaceful world if women occupied more leadership positions. I think that is true, if only because it would be a sign of societal progress and decreased gender discrimination. Also, it is commonly acknowledged in the "international development world" that as women gain rights and standing in a community, the overall well-being and development generally improves as well. I see this as part of a healthy society. And women in leadership is part of how a community views and treats women. If the position of women in powerful roles is an indication of our societies as a whole we have a lot to worry about. And honestly, I think it is pretty important reflection of our societies. (The stats in this article are super interesting!)

Well, that's all for now. I'm tired and so is my computer.

Peace and love to one and all!! xo.

mother dearest

I come back to the same topics time and again. Not too long ago I wrote a post on the topic of expectations for women, and I touched upon the subject of mothering. Recently I read an article in which a woman, and a mother, expressed her feeling on the heated debate between women over how to mother. (I like the word mother as a verb...) She expressed the guilt she felt as a mother, and a woman, both when she made the decision to stay at home with her daughter as well as when she chose to work outside of the home.

I won't explicate all of my thoughts on the subject... especially because I have done that before. But as a daughter, a friend, a sister, a woman and, perhaps someday, a mother, I would like to share a few parts of this article that I found particularly powerful:

"My daughter is watching me AND you to learn what it means to be a woman. And I'd like her to learn that a woman's value is determined less by her career choices and more by how she treats other women, in particular, women who are different than she is. I'd like her to learn that her strength is defined by her honesty and her ability to exist in grey areas without succumbing to masking her insecurities with generalizations or accusations. And I'd like her to learn that the only way to be both graceful and powerful is to dance among the endless definitions of the word woman... and to refuse to organize women into categories, to view ideas in black and white, or to choose sides and come out swinging. Because being a woman is not that easy, and it's not that hard. . . .

". . .when you yell about how much peace you have with your decisions, it just doesn't ring true. The thing is, if you're yelling, I don't believe that you've got it all figured out. I don't even believe that YOU believe you've got it all figured out. I think your problem might be that you're as internally conflicted as the rest of us about your choices. But instead of kicking your own ass, you've decided it'd be easier to kick ours.

Which is tempting, but also wrong.

So, maybe instead of tearing each other up, we could each admit that we're a bit torn up about our choices, or lack thereof. And we could offer each other a shoulder or a hand. And then maybe our girls would see what it really means to be a woman."

I think as a society, and especially as women, we need to do a better job of loving and supporting each other. We know how much pressure there is on us. We know how hard some decisions are to make. Lets love and support each other. Lets make decisions not because of pressures and expectations, but in an effort to do our best in our personal circumstances. And lets respect the decisions other women make, whether or not they make the same decisions we do.

The first day back to school was

actually not completely insufferable.

Granted, I did lean up against the blackboard during my first class only to realize an hour later that there was a a white chalk line running all the way across my derriére. And yes, two hours later I did hear a ripping sound as I stood up only to realize that I had left behind a chunk of red fabric from my dress that had somehow gotten caught on a screw in the chair. And yes, that does imply that I spent the rest of the day with a hole in the back of my skirt. (At least it was a rather small hole... and I was wearing leggings underneath.)

But, at the end of the day as I was walking towards the train station one of my students came running up to tell me that she wanted to study international development (I had mentioned it was my minor in class). She told me how she wanted to be an aid worker and how she could see herself in that life and that it would be fulfilling. She wanted to talk to me about what I had learned and what I thought and what I knew. And suddenly, it was worth the embarrassing moments and the destruction of my clothes just to talk to this darling, brilliant young woman about her beautiful dreams and maybe in some small way to share with her something that might be of importance as she strives to reach her goals. I can only hope.

Also, today I got invited to take a trip to Portugal at the end of the year with some 15 year olds. They're adorable.

And thus it begins. The horrors and the joys of teaching. Is it possible to have one without the other? I am beginning to doubt it.

Real is better than perfect.

Today I saw someone put this quote up, as if it is good advice:

"Pretend to be completely in control and people will assume that you are."

Steve Jobs

But I think it is terrible advice. I think this is exactly what is wrong with the world and all of us. I've made that mistake (many times) and I know it is nothing but pride and fear that makes us pretend.

I can't count the number of times when the smallness of humanity--our weakness, neediness, lack of understanding, ability, resources--has stunned and humbled me. Not because it is sad and terrifying, though at times it is that too, but because it is magnificent. Because it is incredible that, in all our silly, weak ways, we manage to make it through. We overcome and we survive.

It's a miracle. Life is a miracle. And when we pretend that we are "completely in control," that we have it all together, that we don't need each other and God and help every day and every moment, not only are we faking and lying and deceiving ourselves and each other, but we are diminishing the beauty of our successes. We belittle those pieces joy and love and perfection that pass through our lives to make them worth living, despite the fact that we don't have it together and we're not in control. None of us. We need help. We need each other. And I think there is nothing more beautiful in this world than recognizing our own littleness and loving it. Accepting help when we need it and offering to others what we have in abundance to give. We all lack something. But we all have gifts too. I think we've lost touch of that in the world--the fact that we need to exchange and share--that no one can have it all on his or her own, but that we benefit from others and that everyone has something important to give. The more we try to pretend that we're fine on our own, the more we lose out on sharing and receiving from one another. And that's a pity.

So I will tell you now, and always, I don't have it all figured out. I don't have everything completely under control. I don't understand so many things, so many more things than I do understand. I need help and love and blessings. And it is my greatest desire to offer some small benefit to another person; to lift, to aid, to touch, to bless another life. Because life is so much more beautiful when you're in it together with someone(s). For me, that's whole point.