saltynic

Moving to a new space!!!

2011-03-21T12:39:00.000-07:00

come check out my new blogging space. See you there!

mornings are not my forte

2011-02-10T07:52:00.000-08:00

At least there was no traffic this morning. Everything else about my pre-noon Thursday absolutely, positively sucked. Slept in--kept snoozing that damn alarm. Rebuffed lovey-huggy hubs--possibly hurting his feelings. Forgot gas tank was on empty--running even later, thirty-five minutes to be precise. So late, that I had to park in the pay-by-the-hour lot and cross my fingers that I have enough cash to cover it. The yummy scone I had grabbed in a mad rush to get out the house ended up as crumbs all over my dark blue coat. At least the freeway was sunny and dry, and the drivers, though confounding as ever in their persistent choices to clump together in packs, riding each other's asses in a way that will almost certainly end in a large accident, were not too annoying.

Mornings are not my forte. How about you? Do you have cranky, not-so-awesome mornings? How do you shake your crabbiness in those instances?

winter reading list

2011-02-09T09:02:00.000-08:00

AH. The dark days of winter have settled in nicely. I'm sure that, if you are anything like me, you are trying to stay warm and cozy and, if you are very lucky, curl up with a good read. Here is what I've got going this winter...what are you reading these days?

It is my second-go-round reading this excellent apologetic piece by Tim Keller. His articulation of "the reason for God" spans many disciplines, from philosophy to archeology to physics, to address issues of doubt and belief. If you haven't read this, do. It is an intriguing read for any thinking person who considers their existence, their place in the universe.

Some of my friends are going through Kim Gaines Eckert's book together. In its very first chapter, Eckert declares that it is meant to be experienced "in community." So, we're taking her up on that. We're planning our second meeting to discuss chapters three and four in March, and I'm eagerly anticipating another great evening of wine, cheese, and reflective conversation!

The hubs got me this for Christmas, because he heard this on NPR and thought of me. How sweet! As I've begun delving into the first few chapters, I'm impressed by Homan's deft writing style, and the fascinating content that she explores. As a former ballerina myself (who is always a dancer in my heart!) I am eating this book up like I would a cup of fresh gelato in Rome. Pass the spoon!

music and book and green tea therapy

2010-09-10T13:20:00.000-07:00

I just pilfered the Half Japanese record Charmed Life from the hubs' itunes this week. I'm completely obsessed with this album right now! The first song is a particular jump-starter for me lately:

Said And Done by Half Japanese

More Half Japanese music on iLike

I don't really know why. I mean, I know that the groovy, rockin' beat and crazy-sounding horns are really "this moment" for me. I'm officially back to work--grappling with traffic on my commute, planning classes and helping my students figure out their blog posts and readings, helping them grow as writers. Trying to dodge a lot of the grumbling and now-naked politics that's been stripped open because of the construction on campus: two major buildings getting renovated. Which is fantastic. But, we're all at "camp" in our make-shift offices and classrooms, and no one is very happy about it.

So, I try to listen carefully to my colleagues, try to smile a bit more and hang out just being there with them. All of us displaced academics who are trying not to freak out, while simultaneously helping our students not-freak-out and maybe, just maybe, teaching them stuff, too.

Which is why reading this book again has been amazingly calming. Parker Palmer's book, The Courage to Teach, is one of those C.S. Lewis-type books for wisdom written down in a surprisingly elegant way. Like when he says:

"As good teachers weave the fabric that joins them with students and subjects, the heart is the loom on which the threads are tied, the tension is held, the shuttle flies, and the fabric is stretched tight. Small wonder, then, that teaching tugs at the heart, opens the heart, even breaks the heart--and the more one loves teaching, the more heartbreaking it can be."

Sigh. So true. In honor of that knowledge, and the fact that as a willing member of this heart-broken society, I need to find healthy, non-grumbling ways to manage stress, I've composed a short stress-busting list.

I could...

appreciate clouds more, especially since their so beautiful this time of year.
...get excited about scarf-season!
drink more green tea~I've been savoring this kind lately...
talk to my mom more...I always feel better after I talk to her.
or, I could run away and become a diver in Japan.

What about you? When things are spinning crazily and you feel the need to beat the stress, what do you do?

summer is a balloon

2010-09-02T16:22:00.000-07:00

Wow, how did it get to be SEPTEMBER? Already???

This summer has existed with all the joy and rarity of a hot-air-balloon sighting. So many things going on, so many changes, so much color and...life! Well, let's see...to recap:

My little sister got married (*so* SO happy for her and broseph!)

The weekend after her beautiful wedding, Jake and I drove to Philadelphia for a quick getaway...that was cloaked in the disguise of the Council for Writing Program Administrators conference, which I presented at. My first ever national conference--it was nerve-wracking, but exciting! My presentation went well and then we went to museums. But, you already know about that...

The weekend after that, I took the Megabus to Chicago to help my dear friend and glom pack all of her belongings into a truck, and then we drove it all back to Michigan. Two. Days. Later. Talk about exhausted! But man, my quads and lower back got a workout...

It was the hubs' and my 2nd anniversary! The official gift of the 2nd anniversary is "cotton". My mom got us matching v-neck t-shirts. Aw.

My summer of teaching in the SIP program came to a close...and just like that, summer seems to be over, drifting away like that hot-air balloon we spotted behind our apartment, into the sunset...

phil-A-delphia freedom

2010-07-22T12:40:00.000-07:00

Last weekend we were in Philadelphia, me for the CWPA conference, Jake for a weekend away to sketch and write. I did have Elton John stuck in my head, as well as lots of ideas about writing and rhetoric and education. It was, my friend Jen and I decided, an immensely intellectual weekend.

But it wasn't all conversations about pedagogy. Jake and I squeezed in some time to bash about the city, and it was great! We saw lots of cool architecture, and some historic sites.

Having been to Philly before for a printmaking conference, Jake had scoped out some stuff for us to do. He took me to a swanky little martini bar with a live jazz band. We sipped cold drinks while this gal in a blue dress belted "The Best Is Yet To Come". The cutest part was how proud my husband was to show me around; he was a very good tour guide.

We walked through city center and checked out some parks and the profusion of modern sculpture, and then hit up Chinatown to see the arch. We wandered into a tiny Vietnamese shop and purchased spicy barbeque meat kabobs for a dollar while the proprietor chatted us up, explaining how he developed his spicy sauce recipe while holding an entire cooked fish. We ended up at a Belgian pub for mussels, belgian fries and the most complicated beers ever.

Before leaving on Saturday, we hit up the Philadelphia Museum of Art, which was so cool. It is seriously so huge, there is so much art to see. Jake was excited to see the Marcel Duchamp pieces, and it was interesting to hear him describe them to me...like having my own personal curator guiding me through the exhibit!

All in all, it was a great trip. Aside from the massive amounts of driving there and back again...This weekend promises more of the same, as I trek out to Chicago to help Jen move. After that, I may just swear off road trips for life...or, until the next cool opportunity comes along.

does this guitar make me look fat?

2010-06-28T10:43:00.000-07:00

via uulyrics

Whew. It has been a little while since I've written~sorry for the delay, everyone! Over the past few weeks, I've been trying to squeeze the very most out of my summer that I could...because today I'm back to work! (do you hear the song "back in the saddle again"? it's running through my head...)

But the last weeks of summer were totally sublime! They've included:

touring Traverse City wine country with my mom and sis
biking along Lake Michigan
falling for some new books
meeting Doug, of Hot Doug's fame
trying out XOCO, the new Rick Bayless restuarant
Discovering "Chicago's Premier Dive Bar"
trying a new yoga class
meeting up with the girls for brewery/swirlberry girls' nights!

I definitely will be writing more about these experiences, but I had to jot this quick list, so I don't lose any them! More detailed posts to follow...

Anywhoo...today was my first day back on campus, teaching writing for the Summer Incentive Program here at Eastern. It went great. My students are splendid, and I felt like even though we went over LOTS of stuff, they hung tough and I think that bodes very well for the next few busy months.

distracted by summer

2010-06-03T15:49:00.000-07:00

So, I've been terribly unproductive lately.

What I mean is, I still haven't finished my WPA presentation.

Instead, I've been distracting myself with summer reading, yoga, and plans for a trip my mom, little sis, and I are taking up north to have a girls' trip before my sister's wedding. That's right: Traverse City, here we come! I am so excited to be on the beach, slathered in SPF, but on the beach nonetheless.

via Photography Today

So, I've been starting to collect outfits, pile them up and pack in my head. Am I the only one who does this? I pack and re-pack, and then ultimately have the heaviest suitcase/backpack around. But, I have the perfect clothes for any occasion, all trip-long.

Here is an outfit that just seems perfectly beachy:

via jcrew

Also, I am still on the search for the perfect cover-up. It should ideally be comfy and lightweight enough to prevent beach shvitzing, while at the same time being dress-like enough to wear to lunch. This one would do the job nicely!

via anthropologie

And then, let's not forget the feet! You certainly don't want to burn them on hot sand, but you also don't want to get hot-feet. Avoiding the ubiquitous flip-flops is also a plus. I feel like I would walk around all summer in these shoes!

via toms

And, of course, let's not forget the beach read!

Ever since I took a short story class with Steve Amick, I've loved his wry sense of humor and deft writing (and teaching) style. This guy just has moxy. I'm looking forward to reading this novel of his, which is actually set in Northern Michigan, and has been waiting for summer with me:

I can't wait! What are the summer essentials you're loving lately?

soft breezes pushing through

2010-05-28T14:45:00.000-07:00

Today has been easy and productive. Sun-drenched and yet, still cool with the soft breezes pushing through the open windows. Good music on the stereo. Bare feet. Finished revisions to University Writing Center Workshops for the fall. Looking forward to dinner with our friends, Neal and Jamica, tonight.

Sigh. I love summer.

Projects:

The WPA conference will be here before I know it! My presentation needs work.
Next weekend Mom, Mand and I are going up north for a "Girls' Week" on Lake Michigan beaches, tasting Leelanau wines. Must. pack.
My fall classes need some TLC~planning hard-core revisions to those puppies

Thinking:

Contentedly. Lately, I've been able to grasp how great my life is, and how grateful it makes me. I get to write, be with my husband, plan fun trips, sleep in on summer days, stretch my body with yoga, eat well, and be with good friends. What an incredible gift this life is!

Reading:

Finally finished Prose, and still working on Sontag. Oy. But, I managed to get my hands on the next Inkworld book, so am mostly in fantasy-land these days...

summer kicks off

2010-05-25T09:55:00.000-07:00

I feel like it is officially summer now. I don't know why. I mean, I've been on break from school for about a month, it's been (relatively) warm and sunny, but somehow this week is the week. I'm officially on summer vacation!

Summer kicked off for us with what we called our "staycation", which just means we house-sat for some friends who live a couple of cities south of us, and treated it like a vacay. Cheap, easy, and surprisingly refreshing. It was a great way for the hubs and I to connect after our stressful semesters.

During our staycation, I also continued my journey to learn about famous summer music festivals of the late 1960s. This is the hubs' mission for me: that I be educated in the ways of classic rock n' roll to a level I never thought possible. So, I finally saw the Woodstock documentary.

And, let me tell you, I surprised myself by how patiently I sat and watched. The music was pretty cool. My favorite acts were Richie Havens opening, Crosby Stills and Nash being pitch-perfect at they're second show together, Sly and the Family rocking the party, and Santana (who I didn't recognize until he started playing his guitar, and I was like, oh THAT Santana?!). The continuous flow of naked teenagers talking about freedom and peace did, however, make me throw up in my mouth a little. I have enough of a cynical nature for that.

Still, it was interesting to see more of this famous summer music festival that turned into a history-making event that could never be recreated. It made me want to listen to more Jimi Hendrix this summer, and go camping. But no skinny dipping. Probably.

bright and sunshiny

2010-05-14T16:27:00.000-07:00

At last. It is bright outside and sunshine has returned. I have to say, these past few days of rain and grey have, after the initial coziness, really worn on me. I am delighted by the blue, blue sky.

This week has been at intervals relaxing, busy, fun, emotional, sickly, bleh, and tipsy. Now, I am ready to regroup for my whirlwind weekend ahead:

Projects

Putting together a shower gift for my little sister. (her shower is on SUNDAY!) This is proving to be a feat of creativity, since we are summer-poor, and I want to give her something useful, yet fun and meaningful. So far, I'm trying to figure out a fun way to "style" a set of wineglasses...any suggestions?
Planning a few summer "Bits and Bobs" to work on in the home; framing some pics, scouting out a bedskirt (and maybe awesome antique headboard?), purchasing a potato masher, etc.
Getting ready for our "Staycation"--I'm dogsitting for a friend next week, and the hubs and I are turning it into a mini-break to help us wind down from the semester.
Class-planning: yep, already starting to think-through revisions for fall...and the Summer Incentive Program! (yikes, better get to it!)

Thinking

...about community. With Mand's shower coming up, along with the various social functions we're now free to attend-no grading or writing or studio time tying us down-I'm reminded of just how important our community is. We are blessed to have great friends and good bosses and awesome colleagues and loving families. At times, it's challenging to be in relationship with other human beings; they're not perfect, neither am I, so we grate against each other, like hard italian cheese and a microplane.

At times, my family (whom I adore) just gets right up my nose--ugh! So frustrating! So annoying! So just-like-me-it-hurts! But, at the end of the day, they are also the ones who know me best...and love me best. They are related to me by human blood...and by Divine blood, as I count in this category that crazy, rag-tag bunch of wierdos that I see every week to talk and pray and worship Jesus together.

My friends, too, are sometimes a big investment (of time, of energy, or even just of patience), but they are also the ones that I can count on. They are the ones who say nice things about my book, and offer to read it if I need feedback. They are the ones who come to my house for brunch, or morning yoga, or catch a bus into town to attend important functions with me. They are the ones that I can be honest with, be encouraged by, and just "be" with.

Then, there's my bosses, and my colleagues at the university, who sometimes are strange and awkward. Mostly, though, they make me excited to drive into work every day, they stimulate my thinking and collaborate beautifully on really cool, cutting edge projects that push our field forward.

Community is such a buzzword lately. It's all about community organizing and "being in community". As always, I get to the point where I have to think through the buzzwords and ask myself "what the hell does that even mean?" So, this is what I'm thinking about lately.

Reading
Well, I finished Inkheart (very satisfying) and am working "diligently" on Prose and Sontag. To my delight, though, I've discovered another dear friend is joining the blogging community! Natalie's blog is up and running, and she's all about poetry and thoughts and cool insights that may-or-may-not be distracting her from her Master's project:) Go check it out and get in on the conversation!

rainy day eighties

2010-05-11T11:50:00.000-07:00

It was so lovely to wake up slowly this morning, to the murmur of rain outside. Summer vacation is just budding, and nothing compares to the coziness of burrowing deeper into the covers with the backdrop of rain music!

The hubs and I are enjoying this first week of break. We needed it! Today is a nice, relaxing day...the record player is filling our home with the melodious strains of the Eurythmics. An oddly perfect pairing with the rains slipping down the windows and pattering on the roof.

And no sooner have I finished Perelandra, when another fantasy trilogy catches my fancy! I just finished the first book in Cornelia Funke's trilogy. I have to say, it totally sucked me in. My goal for this week is to finish the rest of the books I have going, so I can in good conscience jump fully into the "Ink" trilogy and finish off the C.S. Lewis Space Trilogy. The summer of reading continues!

Because today is rainy, it calls for sweaters, a fresh pot of coffee, and maybe a trip to the library. What is your favorite plan for a rainy day?

the day is just gorgeous.

2010-04-30T13:30:00.000-07:00

Ah. It's one of those days where you want to go lay in the grass, roll around in it, rubbing spring into all of your pores.

Since it's Friday, and since I'm a little tired from *seriously* cleaning the house (we're talking spring-clean, man), I will just do a little summary today.

Projects

Well, I just finished all the final grading for my classes. So one project I write down that I can immediately cross off (am I the only one who does that?)
BUDGETING-with summer break comes the summer belt-tightening. Bring on the penny-pinching!
Writing group: my friend, Natalie, invited me to a writing group meeting on Monday. I think I'm going to go, although it's been a long time since I've been in a writing group (I'm a little nervous, I think!). I hope they like/get/are ok with the book stuff...

Thinking
About travelling. A lot, lately. In my dreams, I can travel the globe whenever the fancy strikes. Lately I've been thinking about real practical ways to save for a hubs-and-nic trip to Europe...maybe next summer??? (she asks hopefully...) Here are some pics I snagged from a random travel blog I was gazing at...

Reading
Of course, I'm still reading too many books at once. But, I'm also now a proud follower of my dear friend Josh's new blog. Super smart and easy to read thoughts about life and faith. Do check it out and join in the conversation~it's sure to expand our thinking all the way around!

new book new book tra la la

2010-04-29T14:55:00.000-07:00

Ok.

So, at the beginning of the year, I made a resolution that I knew I would break, and I've broken it.

The resolution was secret. In my heart, I told myself very sternly:

"Nicole, you will only read one book at a time."

HA!

Well, I've started a book. Another one. I'm still, of course, working on The Volcano Lover by Susan Sontag and Reading Like a Writer by Francine Prose. Both books make me feel smarter just by gazing at the words of these ultra-smart ladies. I try on their intelligent thoughts like a young child traces letters, pretending in order to learn. I'm tracing these writers' smartness, hoping to write just as smartly someday.

But every once in awhile, I just need a bit of fun reading. Something that will suck me in and make me forget that I am reading at all. And since the other night I watched a deep and thoughtful movie about heaven and hell and death and couldn't get to sleep right away...I tapped good old C.S. Lewis for some sci-fi fluff.

I'm always fascinated by the various covers that books glean from all their printings. I know we shouldn't judge them because of it, but I can't help trying to illicit clues from front covers, and inside flaps, and back covers, as to what the book is all about. Because books feel sort of alive, like friends, I want to make sure I choose them carefully. Though, with books that have multiple printings, it's harder to tell. For example, maybe I want to be friends with the last cover here, but the first one is kind of weird to me. Ironically, that's the way my copy looks! So, maybe when we get past looks, we find who we really want to be friends with based on what's inside.

What about you? Do you judge books by their covers? What are some of your favorites? (books or covers or both!)

HOW many days until Easter??

2010-03-30T11:59:00.000-07:00

I was totally unprepared for the fact that last Sunday was, in fact, Palm Sunday. Plus, it was cold and rainy...and in my brain Palm Sunday should be dry and sunny as the day of Jesus' triumphal entry, when everyone was wearing sandals. And there were palms trees all around.

Maybe I just need a tropical vacation?

Well, spring is springing its way into southeast Michigan, however reluctantly, and I am happy about it. The hubs just returned from a printmaking conference in Philadelphia, and it was SO great to welcome him home! I was excited to have a few days to myself, cleaning obsessively, watching Jane Austen movies... but when he got home I realized how great it is to simply *be* with him.

Which leads me to the next question from the list:

What is one way that you can improve your family life this year?

It is still weird, a year and almost-a-half after my wedding, to think that I have "my own family" now. When I first read this question, I pondered what "family" even means. At a very basic level: me and the hubs. But, for most of my life, it has meant mom, dad, sister, and self. It has meant grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. Now, it includes in-laws. Nephews. Another person's history is merging with mine into our family story.

Like anybody else, my family story is complicated, messy, and carries its fair share of scandal. Brushes with wealth that somehow never stuck. Great-great grandma Phoebe wouldn't let my great-grandpa Charles be mentored and adopted by the millionaire art collector Charles Freer, though Freer wanted to leave his fortune to an heir and thought it serendipitous that great-grandpa shared his first and last name...and so my family and I are not art tycoons.

Though the head-slapping moments are many, and though they have continued through time to the present day in many ways, I love my family. I have to. And, I want to. Not always. But I know I can't get out of it. So, I'm thinking that one way I can improve my "family life" this year is to try to practice more compassion towards my family. Starting with my husband...maybe even starting with myself...extending to cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents, in-laws. Something has to counter the scandals and goof-ups and rolling-eye-moments, because they keep coming. If I can cultivate compassion toward myself and my relations, our life can only improve...maybe even bloom.

the fog presides

2010-03-12T09:40:00.000-08:00

I feel like I'm in a fog today.

And I mean that literally AND figuratively. With the drastic warming-up of southeast Michigan, all the snow has magically transformed into a thick, low-hanging draped over the buildings and roads. My brain feels like the enshrouded buildings on campus...I can sort of make out the shapes of my thoughts...but nothing's really clear.

And it's Friday. I'm so glad. I am ready for the weekend (even though I've over-scheduled myself, as usual...)

And, since it's Friday, and since I'm in a fog, I'm gonna try to at least nail down three main things:

Projects

I am still working on "the book". It is scary and I feel like I'm just barfing up dumb stuff...but still going.
The Bright Ideas conference at MSU is coming up! I have a rough idea what my presentation will look like...
Grading this weekend! (yay.)

Thinking

I've been thinking a lot lately about next steps. There are big decisions to be made, and yesterday it came really clear to me that my heart is pretty evenly divided when it comes to them. What about you? What do you do when you're faced with a big decision?

Reading

I started The Volcano Lover, by Susan Sontag, over break. It's so smart, and subtle and rich (so far). I'll keep you posted on how it goes!

the funny joke and the squeezing hug

2010-03-03T14:57:00.000-08:00

First of all, isn't this tea cups card the cutest?

And since we're asking questions...here's another one for ya:
Do you ever feel like you plan to do something out of one motivation, and then dread it with whole other set of motivations?

I do this to myself all the time. I make contradictory plans, declarations, conceive of and try to live out ideas that don't exist well together, they don't 'play nice'. For instance, I declare, "I want to host a tea party for young women at church," which doesn't necessarily mesh with, "I want to get a massage and chill for the rest of my break."

Or, "I want to write a book," doesn't always seem to go hand-in-hand with, "I want to live in a clean house and grow my own herbs and make photo albums and bake scones from scratch."

I'm not sure why I do this to myself. Maybe, like Liz Lemon, I want to "have it all." Is that even possible? [and, in deference to Natalie Goldberg, who in Writing Down the Bones says, "if you can write a question, you can answer it... immediately go to a deeper level inside yourself and answer it..."(145).] Yes, it's possible, and messy and unpredictable. I can have the orange scones and the midday nap and the written book and the coffee and the tea and the yellow-cratered moon. Maybe not all at once. Maybe not all in the moment that I want it all to be (which is usually all in the same moment for me--I want it all...NOW!). Maybe I need to keep learning patience, and steadily working bit-by-bit on all the things I love. And maybe I need to keep pausing, to drink in the tea parties and the melting snow, the funny joke and the squeezing hug.

how we can be

2010-02-22T10:36:00.000-08:00

"Only writing stays with the great vision. That's why we have to go back again and again to books--good books, that is. And read again and again the visions of who we are, how we can be. The struggle we go through as human beings, so we can again and again have compassion for ourselves and treat each other kindly."

~Natalie Goldberg, from Writing Down the Bones

shalom

2010-02-20T09:37:00.000-08:00

So, my sister got me this book for my birthday

and I started it this morning. It's really good, scholarly yet surprisingly accessible. (I zipped through 24 pgs in like, twenty minutes!) At the outset, Eckert is discussing reasons why women may not feel whole in our society--relational loss; trying to do-it-all and failing; criticisms that we've internalized and begin to believe about ourselves; cultural messages that sexualize and fracture women, relegating them to bodies that sell things, objects of desire; even the church, which, while it is supposed to be a safe community for broken people of all backgrounds and genders to work together, each using their gifts fully, is all too often a place dominated by men, where the concept of who women should be is extremely narrow.

Then, she begins to discuss definitions for wholeness, and I thought you'd be interested in this:

"...the Hebrew prophets [discuss a way to live whole] called shalom: 'in the Bible, shalom means universal flourishing, wholeness, and delight--a rich state of affairs in which natural needs are satisfied and natural gifts are to be fruitfully employed... Shalom, in other words, is the way things ought to be'" (Cornelius Platinga 10).

So, shalom to you, dear readers. Have a flourishing, rich, delightful day!

Do something impossible

2010-02-17T13:57:00.000-08:00

So, the next question to be tackled from the list:

What is one impossible thing that you will believe God for this year?

When I first read this question, my immediate response was, that he'll help me write a book. Why that, out of all the possible things to believe for? Well, because it scares the shit out of me, for one.

As soon as I thought this, and knew with all certainty that writing a book was the goal for the year--the impossible goal--I got really embarrassed. This is, I'm sure you realize, in comparison with say, solving one or more family crises, or helping people in Haiti. I'm completely selfish.

Of course, I want to believe God for altruistic things. But this book is particularly significant. It's between him and I. He knows, and I know, that I'm scared to start. We both know I feel paralyzed and yet conflicted about my paralysis, since I feel somewhere in my gut that I am a writer. Well, writers write. So, here we go. I'm going to attempt a record of this effort, which you may follow, if you like, here. I'm leaping off the cliff, no net. We'll see where I land.

Why I Heart Snow

2010-02-15T09:45:00.000-08:00

-It is beautiful. Or at least charming.
-It is quiet.
-If there is enough of it, you get a snow day:)
-It comes in different sizes and textures: i.e., wet, floppy, soft, floaty, hard, tiny, gritty, light
-When it falls slowly, it's just magic.
-Two words: Midnight walks.
-Bundling can be cute...

-It is prettier to look out when it's in the teens and see a thick layer of white sparkles, as opposed to dead grass and cold pavement.
-It makes winter holidays all the more fun!
-It smells good.
-It looks becoming snagged on eyelashes.
-It is fun to catch on your tongue.

-It is fun to pack into balls that you launch as projectiles.
-Have you ever made a snow angel????
-Two words: Winter Olympics.

-I hear snow-shoeing is incredible exercise.
-It makes a satisfying smush-crunch under your feet.
-It makes the covers seem cozier.

what the what????

2010-02-08T06:38:00.000-08:00

I feel so ugh today.
#1- I'm freezing cold. thanks, michigan
#2-I caught sight of myself in the mirror this morning and literally almost cried. I looked so puffy and tired, in a most depressingly teacher-sort-of-way. Or, in a prisoner-of-war-sort-of-way. Couldn't tell.
#3-I have the busiest day EVER ahead of me (groan)...
#4-I procrastinate.
#5-Just found out an old family friend had a mental breakdown...am creeped out, and also cynically not surprised. Feel tireder.
#6-I have no idea where to start today.
#7-found random image above at this cooky spot. Kind of strange, kind of wonderful, in a confusing sort of way.

Have resolved to embrace the dumbfoundedness for the rest of the day. Possibly, all week. Why not, right?!

Here we go, Monday!

2010-02-01T11:32:00.001-08:00

Joy is walking on a road, not really a "place" so much as it's a process.

Found this beautiful photograph of a road, and though the title is "long road to ruin," I'll just swap in "joy" for "ruin". Thinking about what joy even means. Or, what it means to "enjoy God". Or, "What 's one way I can enjoy God more this year?"

EN-JOY. To be "in joy"? To exist in joy like fish exist in water, swimming, immersed in it, breathing it in and out, moving through it, buoyed by it...?

In the Old Testament, water is used as a metaphor for helplessness.
Wine, on the other hand, is a metaphor for joy.

The familiar story, out of John 2, where Jesus turns the water into wine, was the topic of the sermon at Grace yesterday. The point was that famous quote from Mary: "whatever He says, do it...." or, the road to joy means doing what Jesus says. I like to think that it's also a metaphor for my life: that Christ turns helplessness into joy.

Jesus was a joyful person, someone that others wanted around...I mean, he was invited to that wedding in Cana, right? He wasn't sitting in the corner, quietly judging all the guests partying...he didn't even make a stink about there being *gasp* alcohol at the wedding. In fact, the first miracle he performed, how he "showed his glory," was in creating more wine when the host had run out, keeping the party going.

It's an interesting thing, thinking about how to be "joyful". On one hand, you could just drink a lot of wine...but there's something about that just rings hollow without a deep and abiding inner sense of joy. So, just drowning my stresses and sorrows in literal wine isn't the solution. Probably wouldn't hurt, though.

The thing about joy is that its becoming more about awareness for me. Awareness of what I have, awareness of the good...and the not-so-good. Awareness of my own utter helplessness...of my own meanness, smallness, of my own inner "judger", that super-easy talent I have for thinking I'm right and everyone else just doesn't get it and so I point the finger at them and ignore my own shortcomings (gladly!). Hyprocrite-me. This kind of awareness might seem self-flagellating or morbid. On the contrary, I say. If no one had called attention to the fact that there was no wine, that there was only water, then maybe nothing would have happened. Noticing that there's only water in my life presents the opportunity for a miraculous transformation; for Jesus to turn water into wine. Helplessness to joy. Awareness of that exchange, dwelling on it, in it, swimming around in the realization of that miracle is...bright and full and awesome and overwhelming--like being swallowed in warmth and light after hours in the frigid cold without a coat. The prickly hurty delicious pain comes, the pain that means you are thawing, and you can breathe. Seemingly for the first time, you fill your lungs with warm, bright air. And that may be a way to enjoy God.

the ain country

2010-01-29T13:06:00.001-08:00

I've been trying to streamline my reading lately. Usually, I'm sort-of-reading-but-not-getting-very-far in about half a dozen books. I've cut it in half. I'm right now officially only reading three books. Well, one I just started, so two?

This one just sucked me right in, which is weird, since I really couldn't get into it the first time I tried. It's one the hubs has been recommending...he even got a copy for me as a gift. I don't know what happened between that first sitting and this one, but now, I am committed. I think I despised the dreary grocery-store opening scene, couldn't really feel the rhythm.

It is a truly lyrical and fantastic read. The main characters are at once sad, and deeply charming and confused and good, in a twisty way. Like the pervasive twilight that hangs over the mystical "land" they find, the characters and the story that cradles them, are not quite dark, not quite daylight.

I read a bit on Ursula K. Le Guin's site. Man, that lady can write. Perusing her list of published books, I just drooled to see a writing life displayed on my laptop screen. I want that life...

...I think.

In Writing Down the Bones, Natalie Goldberg tells me (yes, she is talking to me!):

"Naturally [your writing voice] will evolve a direction, and a need for one, but it will come from a different place than your need to be an achiever" (40-41).

I put so much pressure on myself. I look at Le Guin's lifetime of writing, and yearn for a list of all my achievements, just like she has, ignoring the fact that she has a life of writing and I am newly born. I am at the beginning place, tumbled into the ain country. And things aren't clear yet.

details, details

2010-01-27T13:00:00.000-08:00

I was talking to my sister yesterday about this whole "Enjoying God" thing, and what it might mean, and what it might look like. Her answer was just so great.

She said that she enjoys God through photography, because taking pictures makes her pause, be aware. If you knew my sister, you would know that someone as driven and organized as she is might need some process to help her stop achieving and just be. I can relate.

I like that she talked about "noticing details". I think that is a super important, and easily overlooked, key to joy, enjoying-perspective. Noticing. Being awed by the pale color of the sky or the velvety texture of a pine needle.

It brings to mind a way that I once heard Psalm 46:10-
"be still and know that I am God."
"be still and know that I am..."
"be still and know..."
"be still..."
"be..."

what it might mean to "enjoy"

2010-01-26T12:37:00.000-08:00

The first Sunday of the new year, our pastor preached from Haggai. The title of the message: "consider your ways". The point: to consider habits and practices, and question them. Maybe changes are in order. We were handed a list of 10 Questions for the New Year, to take home, meditate on, consider. At first, I thought I would pull out my trusty journal and answer the questions all at once, like some sort of self-assigned homework. As I read through the questions, though, I realized that it would not be as easy, quick, or simple as I'd assumed. Each question brought up a slew of other questions for me, and I knew that I could not give a pat, "christianese" answer, or even assume I could give an answer.

So, what I decided to do was to systematically spend one week on each question. The goal is to write through the question, meditating on it, chewing it up, like a freewrite prompt I might give my students to help them think through the revision process or a reading assignment. Each time we write, it is another way to think. Thinking-as-writing-as-thinking. To that end, here is the first question to consider:

What is the one thing you could do this year to increase your enjoyment of God?
Of course, start with the hardest one! First, I have to think, well, how DO I "enjoy God"? Do I enjoy God? What does that even mean?

Well, I laugh at, with, and because of God-or moments I imagine represent His humor in my life. Like, when I'm singing in the car, really belting it out and feeling like, "damn, I'm good" and then right at that moment my voice cracks and I go super, confidently, loudly FLAT. Nice. And it's only me, and God. I heard it, He heard it, and I imagine His eyebrows shooting up in sarcastic surprise. And we laugh. That could be a moment of "enjoying God".

Or, it could be when I see a gorgeous sky-fiercely blown with clouds and suffused with sunlight and I recognize the hand that made it...and maybe even think to say thank you. Or, when I'm sipping a glass of wine, making a fun, immersively creative meal, listening to great music, reading a delicious book, taking a quiet winter walk, hand-in-hand with my husband, watching the snow fall silently around, sipping a coffee, savoring a moment of tranquility...and I sigh, and somehow know it's of God, from Him, meant to be enjoyed.

Perhaps it's gratitude-instead of saying, "ah! I never have a moment to myself!" saying, "my life is so full, so blessed." Every good and perfect thing is from God...to know that, to be conscious of it, grateful for it-perhaps that is a way to enjoy God.

I'll kick it out to you, reading this: what is a way to enjoy God more?

A Way to Love God

2010-01-25T06:26:00.000-08:00

by Robert Penn Warren

Here is the shadow of truth, for only the shadow is true.
And the line where the incoming swell from the sunset Pacific
First leans and staggers to break will tell all you need to know
About submarine geography, and your father's death rattle
Provides all biographical data required for the Who's Who of the dead.

I cannot recall what I started to tell you, but at least
I can say how night-long I have lain under the stars and
Heard mountains moan in their sleep. By daylight,
They remember nothing, and go about their lawful occasions
Of not going anywhere except in slow disintegration. At night
They remember, however, that there is something they cannot remember.
So moan. Theirs is the perfected pain of conscience that
Of forgetting the crime, and I hope you have not suffered it. I have.

I do not recall what had burdened my tongue, but urge you
To think on the slug's white belly, how sick-slick and soft,
On the hairiness of stars, silver, silver, while the silence
Blows like wind by, and on the sea's virgin bosom unveiled
To give suck to the wavering serpent of the moon; and,
In the distance, in plaza, piazza, place, platz, and square,
Boot heels, like history being born, on cobbles bang.

Everything seems an echo of something else.

And when, by the hair, the headsman held up the head
Of Mary of Scots, the lips kept on moving,
But without sound. The lips,
They were trying to say something very important.

But I had forgotten to mention an upland
Of wind-tortured stone white in darkness, and tall, but when
No wind, mist gathers, and once on the Sarré at midnight,
I watched the sheep huddling. Their eyes
Stared into nothingness. In that mist-diffused light their eyes
Were stupid and round like the eyes of fat fish in muddy water,
Or of a scholar who has lost faith in his calling.

Their jaws did not move. Shreds
Of dry grass, gray in the gray mist-light, hung
From the side of a jaw, unmoving.

You would think that nothing would ever again happen.

That may be a way to love God.

the end of the tunnel...

2009-12-08T14:25:00.000-08:00

We are in the home-stretch of the fall semester, and I couldn't be happier to see the light up ahead. This semester has been a challenge, with teaching more classes than I ever had before. My students, however, were gems. In the midst of grading their last essays--before final portfolios, that is--I am charmed and entertained and I get it. It is so very satisfying to identify the various ways in which my students grow as writers. With the tough middle-months of the semester behind me, I can stretch into these last essays like a cat in a sun-patch. I get to settle in and see the "after" work of students who have gritted it out for 14 seemingly-long weeks.

It's good that we are at the end, too, because my shoulder has been so sore lately! Intently reading and commenting on hundreds of essays does not do a body good, however pleasantly my students express themselves. At least, with the end of the tunnel close at hand, I can be encouraged. There is hope, rest, right around the corner.

Bring it on!

thoughts about process and product

2009-11-06T11:41:00.001-08:00

I'm beginning to get really interested in the dichotomy of "process vs. product". In our post-modernity, it seems an increasingly-investigated paradigm. As a writing instructor, as a writer, I'm consistently weighing the importance of process against the eventual--the expected--product. What use is a sterling piece of writing to my students if they don't understand how it came to be, and thus, can't reproduce it? What use is a savvy, strategic writing process if it is not applied to create a sparkling, written product?

Gin Ferra asks herself this question in relation to her knitting. Is the set of orange loops a sweater in process, or just a bunch of tangled yarn? Is there functionality and beauty in the process, or are we just after the endgame, the product?

I think it is important to investigate these questions. Considering process in our lives, from writing to knitting to relationships, may prevent our society's ultimate spiral into utter-egocentrism, into perpetual consumerism. But, while I perhaps can't take on the culture of the entire western world, I can teach writing that privileges a sound awareness, and deft use of, process. Acknowledgment and application of strategic writing processes do produce good writing, I've seen it. I continue to see it in my classroom. What comes next, I think, is examining what I see and articulating it so that others can understand it, can see it, too.

the word articulate

2009-11-05T11:45:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking a lot lately about the word articulate.

One of it's definitions is joint, as in the spine

or foot.

It made me think of dancing, and how some dancers articulate movement as they dance, that is, they move each bone independent of the others, thus lengthening and sustaining movement.

vanilla thursday

2009-09-24T08:37:00.000-07:00

I am sipping the last of my vanilla bean latte and my petite vanilla scone is long gone. It's a vanilla thursday, and I'm feeling unfocused.

Thinking about ways to get involved...

2009-09-02T13:57:00.000-07:00

The National Day of Writing is coming up in October. I'm thinking about ways to get my classes involved. Any suggestions?

curtain-obsessed

2009-08-21T12:21:00.000-07:00

Whew. Now that my summer class is over, I have about a week and a half of "staycation" ahead of me. This is good, because I need to freakin' nest already!

I'm obsessed with curtains lately. I keep envisioning different styles and configurations for the windows of each room. Curtains are a big deal, I think, because they can really set the mood and of course, bring color and texture.

These curtains are fascinating. designed by Florian Krautli, they are full of tiny magnets...

...so you can form them any way you like! Sculptural curtains, indeed.

But my heart belongs to these:

What could be better?

rainy day

2009-08-08T07:39:00.001-07:00

Ah, what could be better than sleeping in with the pattering of rain tapping away at the roof and windows? Well, I couldn't exactly sleep in today, but I can revel in the odd rainy day. It has been so sunny and warm and summery lately, that this cool gray rain is almost a relief! I am forced to stay inside and think.

Of all the Impressionists, I've always had a thing for Gustave Caillebotte. Of course, his "Rainy Day in Paris" is world-renown, as well as "The Floorscrapers" from 1876. But with rain-induced time on my hands, I decided to do some searching for my favorite Caillebotte.

Along the way, I found this other, lesser-known "Floorscrapers", actually painted a year after the one above. I love it when artists take on subject matter in different ways over long spans of time. It really shows off different perspectives, discoveries that the artists themselves make along the way.

But, this is my favorite: "Young Man at His Window", painted in 1875. I love that the room and the view remind me of the view from my room when I first visited Paris. I love the stony-cool colors and the dramatic figure in his black suit. It is full of mystery and longing. If you look closely, following the "gaze" of the young man, you can see a female figure standing on the street corner. This intimates a story without fully spelling it out for us, and raises more questions than it answers. I like that.

coffee enlightenment?

2009-08-05T07:39:00.000-07:00

Sitting down to breakfast in a strange house. Well, nothing alarming...I am housesitting. I'm keeping company with two sweet, neurotic dogs and enjoying the exotic delights of cable television and granite countertops.

There is lots of great light in this house, which gets me thinking in several directions. Of course, I think about our new place and how to best harness the light from the east/west facing windows. Alas, no southern ones. This post from Apartment Therapy Europe gave some good pointers, though.

I also got to thinking about light, in terms of consciousness. As a thoroughly non-morning person, I often wake up feeling swallowed in a mental shadow. A large cup of coffee and an hour of slow awakening are my usual requirements for feeling sane and alert. What is it about light that is both comforting and harsh? Why do we use light-metaphors when referring to our mind, our awareness, our quality of engagement with the universe (she was enlightened)? I briefly thought about springing these questions on my students today...but it might be too deep. Or, it might not be.

curtains and coasters

2009-07-27T09:42:00.000-07:00

Well, we are all moved in.

The place is starting to shape up, and the hubbs assures me (I am the impatient one-by far!) that in any home-creating scenario, "it just takes time." But I can't keep myself from daydreaming about really nerdy things like curtains and coasters. I was ogling these just the other day:

...and at the next available tide I am bound for that isle of Swedish design delight, IKEA. These woven cube-baskets are destined for our giant bookshelf.

I've been pouring over my precious collection of back-issues from the late domino magazine.

Ah, I miss that publication! Something about the cheeky, fresh approach to "making a home"~or maybe it was just the great design~made me love that magazine. Sadly, due to the economy I guess, it folded, and the website is now depressingly linked to Architectural Digest. A good magazine is a very difficult thing to find, and to lose one is particularly depressing. Does anyone know of a comparable magazine that I could find solace in?

halfway there...

2009-07-12T17:16:00.000-07:00

About half of the really important/just plain busy things I have to do are done. Yay! Now, the deep breath before the plunge...

Projects
I am moving this week! I have piles and piles of dust-gathering boxes clustered all around the house. They are bound for our new digs...I just can't wait until they're all safely over there.

Thinking
About things people do in their sleep. I was listening to the Signal the other night, and Lori Brown was talking about a man, Lee Hadwin, who--get this--paints and draws in his sleep! Here are some of his pieces:

How cool is that? What do you wish you could do in your sleep?

Reading
Right now I'm working my way through this book:

Bill Bryson is terribly funny in unexpected, almost shy ways. He sneaks up on you and all the sudden, you're laughing out loud! It's great. The only problem is, it makes me want to be traveling right now...grrr. So frustrating! Well, everything in it's time.

crawling on my hands and knees

2009-07-08T12:38:00.001-07:00

I feel like I'm about to walk into a dangerous jungle. The next, oh, ten days or so are ridiculously packed with important, attention-worthy travels, experiences, and friends. I am just a tiny bit intimidated.

When we were in Seattle last month, we took a long hike into the mountains one day. It was gorgeous, and challenging. The trail took us through deep green woods and moss-carpeted boulders, over log-bridges, through massive grey piles of sharp-edged rocks, and into glacial territory. We hiked to a glacier lake that was a thick emerald color, fed by the active glacier just across the water from where we stood. It was truly a spectacular view.

But, the hike was intimidating. It took us all day. I mean, we started out briskly enough, sort of cocky, actually.
"What? This isn't that hard!"
Later, when we were crawling up switch-backs and sucking in the dramatically thin air, it was a different story. My feet hurt, I was sucking in air like an 80 year old chain smoker who's just jogged around the block. Somehow, though, (ok, with lots of encouragement!) I made it to the top.

So, while this may not totally (if I'm being honest) inspire a "bring it on, world!" defiance, it at least tells me this: if I don't give up, I will eventually gain the peak. Crawling on my hands and knees, but making it.

time and goals and headaches

2009-06-27T17:05:00.000-07:00

Last night I watched one of my favorite movies, Before Sunrise, for the like, millionth time. Towards the end of the movie, Ethan Hawke recites lines from a W.H. Auden poem:

But all the clocks in the city
Began to whirr and chime:
'O let not Time deceive you,
You cannot conquer Time.

'In headaches and in worry
Vaguely life leaks away,
And Time will have his fancy
To-morrow or to-day.

I have some time on my hands this evening, and I'm trying to put it to good use. I trapsed up to the bookstore, and now am sitting at a coffee shop, thinking, and attempting to write a bit. I went to plug in my computer at said coffee shop, and slammed my head really hard into a big metal sign that was hanging from the ceiling. Man, I am still seeing bright colors flash!

Maybe it's the bump on my head, or maybe it's the poetry, but I'm contemplating lots of goals...little ones: commenting on some book pages for a friend. Big ones: thinking about going to Europe with the hubs. Meanwhile, the long evening stretches, empty and full at once, and I will try to chip away at these goals.

improvising and keeping cool...

2009-06-25T09:53:00.001-07:00

When triple H conditions strike, what's a girl to do but strike back with frozen snacks?

Behold, the chocolate-dipped frozen banana bites I created with help from my trusty Bon Appetit. I didn't have any candy bars on hand, which is what the recipe called for to create the coating, so I improvised. I used a mix of espresso powder and cocoa for one variety, coarsely chopped sesame seeds for another, chopped dried cranberries, and chopped crystalized ginger~which ended up being my favorite!

The frozen banana centers are delightfully cool and creamy, almost like ice-cream.

Frozen grapes are another, super easy, fun frozen thing to eat. Just give 'em a rinse, and toss 'em in the freezer on a sheet pan covered with wax paper. Delish! I hold 'em on my wrists for a second before popping them in my mouth!

home sweet home, and lots to do!

2009-06-18T14:50:00.001-07:00

I am glad to be back in the mitten.

Last week we had a marvelous time in Washington state; we hiked and swam, drank wine and ate really fresh food, wandered around the city. Of course, there was really, really good coffee.

For all the great experiences, I am shamelessly glad to be home again. It was a much longed-for vacation, with a much-longed for homecoming. You know when you just get tired--not in your body, but in your mind? My mind was tired, and ready to come home and rest.

For now, I am excited about the freshness of summer! There is lots to be done, adventurous transitions to be made, glorious books to be read. Here is the sum-up:

Projects:
The tomatoes are doing well--growing quite tall, to my delight.

Thinking:
About ways to incorporate 'ZINEs into my summer class. Anybody have good examples?

Reading:
Possession by A.S. Byatt. Just finished it, actually, with a satisfied and deep sigh. It was thick and twisted with language, but with a racing quality that pulled me through to the very last page, which was heart-rending and poetic. Highly recommend.

a summer project

2009-05-21T12:04:00.000-07:00

What a lovely day I had yesterday! We met up with my sister-in-law and her two precious little boys, and had a glorious afternoon of estate-sale-shopping and front-porch-sitting. Jake made some iced tea and we sipped cold drinks and watched as a shower of helicopters rained down for a good fifteen minutes! They shimmered in the saturating light, spinning and flashing like bits of gold. Now, the ground is covered with them.

Sara (my sis-in-law) also gave me some plants. I am now the proud owner/caretaker of two cherry tomato plants and some oregano. Um, I generally have a *black* thumb, so basically my goal this summer is to not kill them.

I scoured the closets, shelves and the whole garage for a spade...something to dig in the dirt with! I found...nothing. Thus, out came one of our lovely serving spoons from the registry (my thanks to the nice relative who got it for us!) It was the most elegant (and sturdy) of digging tools.

Keep your fingers crossed for these poor plants! Hopefully I will keep them alive long enough to reap some tasty benefits.

Vacation Daydreams

2009-05-19T15:51:00.000-07:00

Ugh. I want to be on vacation SO BAD. Still a few weeks, though. I'm working through the revision process on my thesis, which is interesting and good for me as a writer. I am not a very patient person, though, and I want it to be done...yesterday!
Cue the breathing. I know that this is another excellent opportunity to practice contentment. Also, hope. (as in, I hope that my thesis is finished soon, so I can play!)

Part of my thesis involves a word study. I investigated hope, among other terms, to help define my personal beliefs. Hope can be defined as a noun or a verb. In one sense, it is the act of confident expectation, the act of anticipating. In another sense, it is the object of the confident expectation, the “someone or something on which hopes are centered” (Merriam-Webster).To help more clearly visualize the concept, we can look to the sixth chapter of Hebrews for a particularly concrete metaphor, “…hope is the anchor for the soul, sure and steadfast” (Hebrews 6:19 ASV).

Anchors appear in our lives and our subconscious, in myriad ways. We have HTML anchors, taking the shape of a lower case “a” between greater-than and less-than symbols, < a >, which help create hyperlinks in the digital texts we negotiate daily. We sink anchors into our drywall before hanging heavy pictures and shelves, to support the screws or nails. Most archetypal, however, is the ship’s anchor. Even here, there is rich diversity of imagery, from the classic shape on Popeye’s forearm to German-engineered sculptural anchors carried on yachts.

For practical purposes, a good working anchor will “set” quickly, or penetrate the seabed to secure itself, while less desirable anchors will “plough” the seabed instead. It is also desirable to get maximum “hold” from one’s anchor, which can be measured by the pounds of pressure it takes to dislodge the anchor from it’s resting place; the more pounds it can resist before being moved, the better (ROCNA). Applying these concepts to the Biblical term, might lead us to the following picture: A ship, that in any sort of weather, no matter how violent or threatening, can always be seen holding steadily in its position. Why? Because there is a strong line attaching it to a quick-setting anchor that gives it maximum hold. It doesn’t budge. The steady ship is the substance, the anchor is what the substance comes out of, or connects to. The ship is our faith. The line that connects it is the verb usage of hope, or our confident expectation. The anchor itself is the noun usage of hope, the Someone on whom hope is centered: Jesus Christ.

BAKED

2009-05-14T15:33:00.000-07:00

My friend, Jen, just got me this cookbook for my birthday. There are some heady recipes here, and it's been fun just flipping through the glossy pages and gazing at the delicious-looking treats. Some seem pretty complex, with looong ingredient-lists, so I decided to start with the basics: the "baked" brownie.

Holy cow. Those brownies were fan-f*ing-tastic.

I made 'em for dessert for our pizza n' prosecco party, which went famously. We had the both of our fams over for make-your-own pizzas: I rolled out individual sized dough circles, and had all the toppings on the table so everyone could sit around and chat while they created their pizza masterpiece. Even my brother-in-law, the self-proclaimed pizza connisseur, was satisfied with his pizza. It was really fun! My favorite part, though, was standing in the kitchen, absorbed in rolling out dough, and sensing my family, Jake's family, our friends, hanging out, chatting, laughing. The rapid little thumps of the kids footsteps as they ran around. It was all like music to me.

eat, read, type, realize that you've gained fifteen pounds...

2009-05-12T12:09:00.000-07:00

I just finished the book, Eat, Pray, Love, by Elizabeth Gilbert, and I gained fifteen pounds. Not necessarily in the span of time it took me to read the book, but still. Finishing up grad school (just final thesis revisions to go!) has freed up some time for "fun" reading, and I scored the Gilbert book with some other great finds at the used bookstore down the street. On the one hand, I was totally won over by Gilbert's conversational tone. On the other, I was seething with jealousy, that she got to spend a year traveling and writing about it. I guess you could say it is my dream to do exactly that. Having a book on the New York Times Bestseller list wouldn't hurt, either.

Something I was thinking about while reading this book, was the approach Gilbert takes toward "God", defining God, relating to God...It is a head-spinning topic, and one that is divisive. I found myself not able to agree with Gilbert's take on the whole God-thing. I took this as a good sign. Meaning, it is probably healthy to read/interact with art and literature and humans that I don't necessarily agree with. Not only can it help me practice listening and learning, but it can reveal perspectives I would never have considered before.

Ah, summer reading. I'm excited for summer, for new books, and for a chance to shed these extra pounds that have caked on from a few semesters too many of sitting, studying, and snacking. This means I will need to balance (a key word Gilbert explores!) my time: reading, yes. Walking, too. Maybe even a few softball games. Bring it on.

at last...

2009-05-02T10:25:00.000-07:00

...it is spring! I feel lighter, somehow, with the new freshness in the air and the budding trees, and the thoughts of summer vacation dancing in my head. I definitely heart spring.

2 new favs

2008-12-13T15:58:00.001-08:00

We have been really "burning the Netflix oil" lately...it's a great, easy, cheap sort of stay-in date night. Two of our recent pics have quickly flown to the top ten list:

Eagle vs. Shark~

Every review I read of this movie says it's like Napoleon Dynamite. I didn't think so. It's much more complicated, probably because it's dealing with grown-ups who are acting like high schoolers, instead of just dealing with high schoolers. The awkwardness and tenderness are thrown in much greater relief, and the affect is much more satisfying. I thought about this movie for several days after I saw it. Lovely.

Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind~

This is a Hayao Miyazaki film that was made in 1985, but it is still one of the most indelible of his films I've seen. An epic of the highest order, it doesn't drag the way some epics tend to...which made it a thoroughly enjoyable ride!

slow burn

2008-12-08T12:04:00.000-08:00

My brain feels like this piece by Tom Price looks. A slow, glowing, burning, thing of beauty. I should be writing chapters right now...but I'm here, free-associating. A chat with one of my supervisors, JDJ, has me musing on his three "God-words" that come up so often in teaching:
1. Hope
2. Trust
3. Identity

These play against each other, interact and produce tension in us and in our students~we're all trying to figure this stuff out. I give my students deadlines. I have my own to meet. I sit down to help with revision, paragraph by paragraph, while I have less than 24hrs to be brilliant. To explode into light and warmth.

sickness

2008-11-24T07:13:00.000-08:00

I am pathetically sick today. Sniffles, snot, and lots of body-wracking coughs. I am making myself sorry for myself, and that sucks. to that end, I am posting a few feel-good images that make me smile.

Flowers my husband got me after a terrible day, for no reason other than I sounded stressed on the phone. What a great guy! He surely does take care of me. :)
This is "big bunny". He sat in our backyard for about a week under this fallen branch. He was so fluffy and yet, somehow pissed-looking, we couldn't bear to scare him off.

becoming a recssionista

2008-11-15T16:15:00.000-08:00

On the way home the other night, I started to think about money, and I got really depressed. In fact, it's fairly accurate to say I threw a full-out pity party, tears and shaking the steering wheel. The whole she-bang. I thought, we are young and just starting out in life~why should things go to shit just now? I mean, I have dreams. I have goals. I have a direction, vague though it may be, that I want my life to go in. To feel the general population throw a big, fat wet blanket--named Crappy Economy--on that...It's not fair.

Still, I want to make the best of it. Jake and I have talked about reigning in our spending, figuring out ways to "make do" with what we have, even if that takes a little creativity.
It seems I'm not the only one tense and anticipating a strapped-down, low-cash life.
Joann from Cup of Jo blog found these bottles of "recession wine"~perfect for the thrifty vinophile.

I love these pieces from Poppytalk's affordable art guide. The last one is a piece by Olivia Jeffries entitled "Stand Tall", which I think is a message to me (and anyone else depressed by their tiny bank accounts and tinier job prospects). I think about my grandparents, children of the Great Depression. They made their way through times of want and plenty...cheerfully. That plucky can-do spirit is an inspiration to me, coming from a generation of "if I go to college then I will get a good job and be set for life." It's looking like it will take a bit more creativity than that. It is time to stand tall, muster courage, and sink our hands into a dirty pile of figure-it-out-as-you-go work. Maybe I've had just enough caffeine today to feel up to the task. But, deep breathe...here we go!

imagination floats

2008-11-04T17:13:00.001-08:00

I found this picture and I really love it. It makes me feel fanciful and giggly. A nice feeling in the midst of a night class where the room is 85 degrees and the lecture is entertaining...if a little maddening.
The election will be over tomorrow. And I couldn't be more excited. Maybe we'll all be more relaxed.
Helium, anyone?

rock the vote

2008-09-24T07:32:00.001-07:00

Why do I vote?

It's a question I've been repeating to myself over and over throughout this election year. The temptation to throw up my hands and shake my weary head and say, "that's it! I give up," is very great. While I could probably ramble on and on about the condition of the modern political landscape and "lesser of two evils" crap, I will keep myself to the positives.

I vote because:

1. I can. The 19th Amendment was ratified in 1920, and in honor of women everywhere who've fought for suffrage, especially those who have not yet attained it, I will exercise my right.

2. No one likes a complainer. If I don't vote, I have no room to gripe if things in government aren't going my way.

3. Other than that, I'm not really sure. I feel frustrated with the negatives, and I'm clinging to these two reasons to cast my vote in this coming election.

Like I said before, why do I vote?

carpal tunal

2008-08-10T21:08:00.000-07:00

My hand hurts. I have been writing and typing a lot lately, and the tendons and ligaments in my right wrist are worn out. It is a disconcerting feeling. My hand has been hurting for about a week; hurts to cook, hurts to fold things, hurts to open packages I get in the mail. I am young yet, how am I debilitated? This does not bring the most pleasant contemplations...I am already neurotic.

This has led to me to contemplate my ability to tough-it-out. For instance, even as I type this, my wrist right before my thumb is pulsating a little bit. Does that mean I should not write? When the first paragraph comes easy, and then you hit the wall, well, then what? Do you give up and snap the laptop shut? Tonight, I prefer to keep listening to Thom Yorke croon at me through the speakers, and to write. WRITE. I may just be typing into this blog, with no other purpose than to put some words out there, but I will type.

My friend told me the other day that Thom Yorke must smell like rasberries. It makes me laugh, because of course. What else would he smell like? If someone were to distill me down to a fragrance, I wonder what it would be. Would it be something flowery, like tulips or something fresh like grapefruit or cut-grass? I would like to think that it would be a very light, alive scent....maybe like an ocean wave or a crisp breeze. I would like to be a refreshing smell. I would always like to make others happy. At once, a great strength and precarious danger.

Now, I should go to bed. Exercise completed for the night.

fuzzy

2008-08-06T08:07:00.000-07:00

Today I feel a little blurry, a little not-with-it. I got enough sleep last night. My list to stuff to-do today is not gigantic. All-in-all, I have no excuse feeling so fuzzy. But maybe that's it right there: no excuses, no demands. I am not really "required" to be sharp today. It will not be an incredibly busy day, and maybe that's exactly what makes my brain ease up. Not really necessary to be in overdrive if you don't have a day that demands it. It just makes me reflect on how busy I allow myself to be at times. There are days when I don't even have a minute to sit with my cup of coffee and think about...whatever. And, as I would tell any writing student, reflection is integral...so why would I not make it a priority? Too busy? Is that a cop-out? A dear friend of mine always makes time. MAKES time to reflect, to create. He is never "too busy" to do something that feeds his spirit. I run around doing so many things, and I blame my lack of focus on the slew of shit that I have cobbled to myself and tied to me, like so many tangled streamers. It is really within me to say "no", to pause and to work some of the knots. It might also give me time to reflect, to not be so fuzzy.

working the rust out

2008-07-29T08:56:00.001-07:00

I've been doing some thinking recently about roots, being anchored in who one is, regardless of where one lives. Anchors have a rich history as a symbol of staying power. I read about the image above that it was particularly popular as a grave-stone symbol for early Christians, who would use it to disguise crosses, or to reference Hebrews 6:
17 Wherein God, willing more abundantly to show unto the heirs of promise the immutability of his counsel, confirmed it by an oath:
18 that by two immutable things, in which it was impossible for God to lie, we might have a strong consolation, who have fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before us:
19 which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, and which entereth into that within the veil;
20 whither the forerunner is for us entered, even Jesus, made a high priest for ever after the order of Melchiz'edek.

The symbol is, on the surface, a simple one. Literal anchors keep boats from floating away on the open sea. They are a physical representation of safety, ensuring that nothing is lost.

I feel like I need to go to this restaurant! The food be what it may, I am a sucker for a well-named establishment, especially one that appeals to my overdeveloped sensitivity to symbols. The name of this place, "Anchor and Hope", reinforces that Hebrews 6 connection that I find personally rich and meaningful.

*Question that came up in conversation last night: Do things rust quicker or slower at the bottom of the ocean than they do at the surface? We thought that the water (duh) and salt might speed up the process, but that the pressure and temperature might slow it down....

A picture I took on our first visit to Gloucester. Seems I've had anchors on the brain longer than I'd realized.

2008-04-10T22:03:00.003-07:00

It's quite late. Tomorrow is friday, which is good. However, I am running, running, running this weekend. I feel so fried right now, but I'm trying to hold on to the solitude and placidity of this moment, when I should be asleep. I think I will just go to bed.

rushrushrush

2008-01-28T05:25:00.000-08:00

it's winter, alright

2008-01-19T10:44:00.000-08:00

awake

2008-01-07T05:13:00.001-08:00

Amazing how awake I feel, though running on considerably less sleep than usual.

The other day I landed in my room and my coat and books and bag and stuff went flying everywhere. I took off my hat and threw it on the corner of my desk chair. I took of my earrings and tossed them on the dresser. I put on my slippers. I went to make myself some tea. This is how my earrings landed, amongst others:

I love the random pattern.

The holidays have been big, lovely swirl of beautiful busy-ness. Now, it is hand back to the plow. I wonder if I will have time to read the wonderful books I got for Christmas...

Last night I finished the short Annie Dillard piece, "Holy the Firm", and I'm glad. I'm glad because of all the images I will have to roll over in the hands of my mind: burning moths, Christ shining through the slats, Absolute at base, Holy the Firm. Just read the book, please. It's beautiful.

procrastinating some more

2007-12-18T16:32:00.001-08:00

I love days when I am "with it" enough to experience small pleasures. I had a perfect cup of coffee this morning. I went to the library and sat it an easy chair, reading. Never mind that I still have one last paper to write before being utterly finished with this semester. Never mind that there are many pesky emails to be read and responded-to. I am kind of happy in my denial~like the time when my grandma bought eight beautiful hand-painted Christmas ornaments (I was twelve, I think) and refused to look at the bill. She made the clerk cover the total on the receipt as she signed it.

That is what I'm doing right now: blogging instead of writing a paper, and it's lovely. But all credit card bills must eventually be looked at and paid...all ignored final papers must actually be written...graduate classes must be passed. C'est la vie!

more poetry!

2007-11-27T08:10:00.001-08:00

In my life, I do not make enough time to read poetry. Days cry out for it, like cracked dry ground cries for rain. More poetry! I am pausing this morning (procrastinating, more like it) to read a couple well-worn snatches before hunkering down to work.

Mornings like this. How heady
The morning air! How sharp
And sweet and clear the morning air!

Authentic winter! The odor of campfires!
Beans eighteen inches long!
A billion chances--and I am here!

And here I lie in this quiet room
And read and read and read.
So easy--so easy--so easy.

Pools in old woods, full of leaves.
Give me time enough in this place
And I will surely make a beautiful thing.

~from "Mornings Like This" by Annie Dillard

in the window of the 99 cent store

2007-11-26T07:52:00.001-08:00

This morning is bright...almost glaring. The swing of things is picking up momentum, and things are rapidly needing to be done. There are students to attend to, papers to write, plans to make, coffees to drink. The complexities of life never cease to amaze me. For instance, how so many thoughts can exist in my brain at once and not pull in their independent directions and cause my head to explode. No, I can hold sorrow for my friend who's mother is having dangerous surgery, right along side excitement over buying an important, special dress. I can exist with the feelings of sympathy for my sister, who's computer died on her right before finals, and a superficial appreciation for yellow diamonds, and love, and doubt, and a regina spektor song, all sloshing around inside me. And I don't die. I don't even go crazy. I live....this is what it means to live.

On this monday morning, I am existing in the tension of all the facets of my life and the thoughts related to it. So many thoughts.

thoughtful list

2007-11-01T12:50:00.001-07:00

Lots on my mind today.

Have to finish work, walk in the crisp wind, sit through class, drive, drive, drive, assess others' work, think about my own work, not enough energy: go to bed.

coffee with silence

2007-10-15T07:14:00.001-07:00

Sometimes I wish that I had a quiet moment. I usually wish that when there is no chance in hell that I will have one immediately, or any time soon.

Ah, and just as I typed that, the swirl of annoying chatter around me up and died away. Thoroughly random, life. So, I'm now sitting here and tapping away with a cup of coffee by my side, a cozy feeling laying quietly all over the surface of my skin. I have been thinking this morning about flaws and perspective and comparison. It is a sneaky thing, comparison. I found myself sliding into it just last night, visiting friends who's lives and houses seem so much more put together than mine. Getting into that subtle place is so easy; getting out of it is nigh impossible. When comparing my life/house/relationships to other people, it almost seems like I'm getting a new perspective: here is what you're life/houes/relationship looks like *compared to*... But is that the highest that perspective should ascend? Cannot my view be vaulted even further up (for people are always around to be compared to) and show me that, yes, my life looks like "x" next to my friend's life "y", but that doesn't give more value to hers and less to mine. My life is (should I write it?) is entirely mine, my decisions alone. Taking responsibility for it is like taking a big gulp before diving off a cliff.

The utter committment it takes to own my life is scary. It feels adult, responsible. I have to stand up and say: yes, I have decided to do this, to be this, and I stick by my decisions. That means that I cannot go back and make the other decisions...and what if the other decision was the better choice?

Life doesn't work like that. I can only do the best I can, make the clearest, smartest decision possible---but I must make it!---and then live it.

cinder block

2007-10-11T15:03:00.000-07:00

What could be better than green tea and nice music to accompany the soft tapping of my own fingers on the keyboard?

tea, with pleasure
stir dreams
with peacock feathers
sever the knot
from the taught rope
and sail
further than the sighted stretch
of glassy supposition
plunging into the depth
of opal imagination

Today is a day of Floating

2007-10-04T10:06:00.000-07:00

And I can't seem to pin my mind down, to focus on things other than the nebulous worry. The Nebulous Worry is not friendly, and it will not let me settle down, buckle down, or get to work. The N.W. is a feeling of unease, that I should be peaceful but am not. It chops my head from my body like a balloon chopped from its string.
Floating.
Needing to work on....needing to task. Needing to sew back onto my body my lethargically floating head.

The demands of the day do not allow for personal squeamishness, nor will they tolerate the holding of breath.

monday morning poetry

2007-09-17T09:04:00.000-07:00

If
If you can keep your head when all about you  Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;  If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,  But make allowance for their doubting too;  If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,  Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,  Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,  And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;  If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;  If you can meet with triumph and disaster  And treat those two imposters just the same;  If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken  Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,  Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,  And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings  And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,  And lose, and start again at your beginnings  And never breath a word about your loss;  If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew  To serve your turn long after they are gone,  And so hold on when there is nothing in you  Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,  Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;  If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;  If all men count with you, but none too much;  If you can fill the unforgiving minute  With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -  Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,  And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!
RUDYARD KIPLING

This morning is a morning filled with wonderings and waiting. I am awash in Monday, trying to piece it together and feel calm. There is a tremendous amount of work to be done on all fronts: I am awash in impending process. Process, process, constantly in process. No product to touch or look at except this hard, shiny diamond of promise~a ringing bell breathing bits of light.

transitions...

2007-09-07T17:49:00.000-07:00

The end of summer has been coming for quite some time. I've felt it, creeping steadily towards me with the promise of fall activity and motion. I am almost sad to see the slow, sundrenched days leave. I am a person who makes herself busy by nature, but I had just about settled into the languid days where sitting on the porch, or listening to records, constituted the activities of the afternoon.

v. i. 1. to begin or set out, as on a journey or activity. 2. to become active, manifest, or operative; appear, issue forth, or come to life...to set moving, going or acting...to begin work on...beginning of an action, journey, process, etc.

During my recent trip to Chicago, I found this path in the middle of Lincoln Park. It caught my eye, because the asphalt had been picked away to reveal the stone cobbles beneath. Kind of a resistant act toward modernization, I thought, and I loved it. These pictures of the path are perfect for today, which is at the start of a new path in my life. And like this path, it leads forward and, I believe, upward (in whatever existential way that means). Finding myself calm, yet containing such adrenaline, I feel present and alive.
This, I think, is a microcosom of what life is: ever changing, moving, inclining and holding all the hope and excitement that I am willing to recognize.

jittery

2007-09-05T06:38:00.000-07:00

This morning is alive. I am caffinated, and I start my new job today. I had the lovliest night's sleep, and woke up without once snoozing my alarm. I feel sharp, on the knife's edge of action, like all the adrenaline has somehow solidified into my body's equivilant to plastic explosives.

There is a song that I love, that is so melancholy, called "Waiting for my Real Life to Begin". Today is not that day; today, I am living, buzzing with "happenings". It is exciting!

That's all.

:)

new challenges

2007-08-21T16:42:00.000-07:00

My mind feels like a sponge right now, full to overflowing. It needs to be wrung out.

I started a new job this week, and along with school, I feel like I've been cheerfully shoved into the freezing cold, choppy ocean. The first day was the worst ever. Rain. Power outage. Dead alarm clock. You get the picture.

Today was just jammed with information. And while I feel the capacity in myself to hit the ground running, I am moving slowly this evening. I want to give my brain some time to dry out, fluff up, and get ready for tomorrow. This is an important skill that I need to work on: taking time.

I don't say "making time", because time can neither be created nor destroyed (as much as I would love to create an extra five hours in my day, I just can't!). I say "taking time" because that is what has to be done. The time has to be wrestled from the stiff grip of my own perfectionism, the voice in my head that cries for progress, productivity, and the artifacts to prove it. To take time from that perfectionist, to say to it, "No, I am going to eat dinner and take a hot shower first." is to take charge of my own sanity. I think that it is the exact opposite of taking control in my life: it is realizing that I can't control everything. I can't control how exhausted my body gets after days and days of stress. I can't control the amount of hours that come in my day. But I can take a breath, close my eyes for a moment, and experience a bit of peace before diving back into the fray. And that is what I'm going to do this evening. That, and eat some ice cream.

winding down, winding up

2007-08-16T18:58:00.000-07:00

Well, it has been a busy couple of weeks. I have been making some big, life-altering moves (literal and figurative). The summer is winding down and I'm trying my best to eek out the most evening light and laziness I can.

Do you ever feel like you are being sabotaged?
One of the most difficult things for me to deal with lately, has been my self. That's not really a "thing" per se, but it feels like something totally "other" sometimes. I consider myself a smart person, even logical when the occasion calls for it. I have no idea how it happens, but there is this Mr. Hyde part of me that will rear its ugly, irrational head. I will find myself doing and saying things that I would not normally do or say. The end result: some very important people in my life look at me worriedly, start to doubt my sanity.

Now, it has to be said that things are not moving for me at a consistent or rational pace lately. But are they ever? Does anyone ever get a long, smooth stretch of life where everything has time to settle properly and gain momentum? I haven't, at least not since elementary school, but I had bigger problems then...like gym class.

Just this morning, while sipping coffee and eating a slice of rasberry muffin, I realized: I iam just an awkward kid. I used to think, at one point, that I was poised and ready for the press conference podium at the White House. Not so much anymore. I am just this wierdo who like to read books and write things and take faux-artsy pictures.

The good news:
-the TIgers are winning
-I start a new job soon
-I have wonderful people in my life who love me, even if I am awkward.

So, chagrinned, I am starting to wind up for fall. Grad school and a new job await, as does the quickened pace of life with a jammed-full schedule. Adrenaline is buzzing in my veins. This must be what the major league batters feel as they approach the plate. A ninety mph projectile is about to speed toward them, and the proper response is not to run away from it~no. They take on the challenge. They come out with a bat in their hands, ready to slam it out of the park. To me, this seems both very brave, and very smart.

the end of summer

2007-07-26T16:13:00.000-07:00

The summer is coming to an end. I can smell the barest hints of fall on the air. This fills me with the delicious urge to stretch and curl up for a nap. I feel like this is the perfect weather for book-reading, drinking wine on the deck in the evening, going without makeup. Heh, I've been doing the latter quite a bit, strangely comfortable in my skin these days...I think it's the stretched-out sunlight; I hear it's almost as flattering as candlelight.

Went to the beach only a few times this summer, one of which was last weekend. My sister, mom and I enjoyed the breezy lake Michigan shore and it felt like the height of something. The height of living, maybe? I had brought a nice, thick "beach read" but didn't end up reading it at all. I journaled on a beach towel for about three and a half hours, it was glorious and I hardly noticed my hand cramping up! There is something intoxicating about summer...it feels lazy and at the same time, invigorating. A leisurely kind of productivity.

A friend had a lovely brunch last Sunday. Everything she cooked was purchased locally or grown in her backyard, which I thought was great and action-oriented. I often have conversations with her about how much we love the city and want to support it, and here she was throwing a fete that did just that.
I sat on the stoop with my friends, watching the trees sway in the gently sparkling breeze, and I knew that I was experiencing a moment to be savored. I have been having this feeling more and more lately, like time is slowing down for a few beats and allowing me to really *see* things. It's bizarre, actually. I've always felt like I was going through life in a kind of haze, and I would have moments once in a while. In these moments, I feel very present. Everything snaps into focus with such clarity that I am a little startled, as though I had been walking around with my glasses perched on top of my head, and unaware of it, they suddenly fell in front of my eyes.
A lot of this might be due to the small spiritual changes I've been experiencing lately. A lot I will blame on the intoxicating, late-summer light. Either way, I am enjoying this sense of awareness, the preciousness I feel in the season and right now. I hope you are, too.

a night in

2007-07-10T18:34:00.000-07:00

I taking time to rest tonight. Rest, nothing else. Maybe a little putzing is allowed...but I do not do this often enough. I am a go-go-go person, to the benefit of everyone but myself, usually. With the support of the bf, I am trying to take more deliberate actions in my life to say, "No!" and to take purposeful care of myself. I often wonder if this is selfish. I am often told it is not. Well, whatever.
Tonight, I am appreciative. I'm glad I gave myself permission to take it easy on a Tuesday night.

on the move...

2007-07-07T00:14:00.000-07:00

hello, three a.m..

It is time for me to go to bed, but before I do, I'm going to muse a bit about balance. I've been thinking lately how balance is not really a static thing, but more like a stasis that evens out through lots of movement. Like a wave dipping up and down, or a fan oscillating, yet somehow covering the whole room, I feel like I must figure out how to move if I am to be truly balanced.

The weeks ahead of me are busy. I am standing at the starting line of a medium-to-great marathon of happy social events that I have committed to because I genuinely wanted to be involved. It's just that, standing here, quivering in the anticipation of the gun shot, I am a bit overwhelmed. All will work out, the universe will continue to expand whether or not I get through this month in one piece...I just have to roll with it. It's as though life were a crashing wave and I, the hapless surfer who must relax every muscle--though terrified--and allow the water to push me under, tumble me around a bit, and then leave me to resurface. Better take a deep breath now.

trapped in time

2007-06-27T20:14:00.000-07:00

On the second full day of my recent trip to Gloucester, MA., I found myself walking around town in the pouring rain. We ended up ducking into the Gloucester Maritime Museum for shelter, and part of the museum was an "exhibit" of local fauna. It made me sad to see these few, sorry-looking creatures tossed into cement tanks...trapped.

Today I have been thinking about how much I identify with the starfish.

Humans live life in four dimensions; time is the fourth dimension. We are bound by time. It is impossible for me to go back to two minutes ago, I am forced by time to always be "now". It's frustrating and comforting at the same time. Ah, the bondage of the familiar.

Just think about what life would be with no time.

confrontation

2007-06-26T20:42:00.000-07:00

It's not a well-liked word, or concept.

Lucky me, I find that confrontation runs in my nature, quite at home in between soul and spirit. I was reminded of this once again when tonight, feeling a bit askew after leaving my parents' house, I called my mom on the way home to ask her about the tension I'd sensed from her. Turns out, she wasn't mad; her feelings weren't hurt or anything like that. Unnecessary phone call? Maybe. I might never have known the whole situation, though, if I'd just kept to my assumptions.

A few of my friends are not like this: they would rather slit their wrists than confront a potentially uncomfortable situation. At times, I wonder why I am not more like them: they usually don't have uncomfortable or awful stories about confrontations gone awry. It might be easier to live in a "duck and weave" mentality instead of taking them square on the chest as I seem genetically disposed to. Just like when, in a game of laser tag with my high school graduating class, I snuck up on some jocks and literally just stood there while they plastered me with shots. Why? For what? I could've spent the whole game tucked in a corner or something. Never have been able to figure that one out.

This much I know: confronting things doesn't always lead to an absolutely smooth ride. On the contrary, it stirs things up, gets things moving. Whether or not the shaking and the stirring moves things into a comfortable place is not always known. But at least circumstances aren't acting on an inert target. Or maybe it's that moving around, confronting things head on, just makes me feel better. At least I know what's hitting me.

crafting a discipline

2007-06-24T19:54:00.000-07:00

"The most important talent may be the talent of practice itself." --Atul Gawande

Hello. This is my first real go at this, and I'm a little nervous, but hopeful. I think that this will be a good spot to work on the daily discipline of not just writing, but writing with the knowledge that someone else might read what I've written...that scary word (for some): audience.
I have no real thought for direction, except to share my little musings and send them out into the world, for whatever that's worth. It may not be worth much, aside from my own catharsis. We shall see.
Today was not a particularly fun day. There were a lot of "have to's" involved: I felt mostly crabby or self-pitying as I drove around in the sunshine, to and from my sunday afternoon commitments. There was little traffic, and I happened to find some great music to listen to on the journey. I am thinking now, as I look back, that it was not such a bad day, after all. I am beginning to think about gratitude.
There may not have been anything about my day to blow my mind with happiness. Or was there? Yes, I had commitments that I didn't particularly relish. But I also had a smooth drive in the golden afternoon, with good tunes, and when I got to the event, they fed me. I had some nice conversations with lovely people. When I got home, I remembered a chocolate bar I'd stashed in my drawer. It was actually a great day, come to think of it.
...Of course, these little details I'm realizing I'm grateful for are nothing in comparison to big things, like the fact that my car works, I have enough food, I even have chocolate. I don't live in Darfur. There is so much to be overwhelmingly grateful for. It's funny how human nature, my nature, tends to push all that aside in favor of obsessing over the slightest wants and whims. But I guess that just comes with the territory of being human.