Inner Meanderings

2011-02-19T20:36:00.003-06:00

(2/2)

I have had a good week overall, one where I rededicated my focus on that which nurtures my creative soul....

2011-02-19T20:36:00.001-06:00

(1/2) Today, I actually awoke with purpose...the first time in a long time. I know I get up most mornings and do, but many mornings it is with a certain dread.

February in San Antonio.

2011-02-04T13:33:00.006-06:00

We had the wintry mix last night....unpresidented for this time of year in southern texas. Temps should be in the 60s, not that I am complaining. I wilt most of the year down here.

I look forward to a time when I can enjoy all four seasons again, mirroring the cycle or rhythm of my own life. In less than 5 years, I envision the time to enjoy these seasons-- Hiking and gathering blooms in the spring; planting seeds into well landscaped container gardens after the last frost; visiting local lakes and rivers in summer; strolling on meandering wooded trails, the sound of crunching fallen leaves beneath my feet in autumn--color runs--cider and donuts before the first snowfall...

2011-01-30T21:54:00.001-06:00

This is the first text blog update I have posted and wonder if I will be able to "engage" with my cell phone as easily as with a key board.

BREAK THROUGHS

2009-11-07T21:52:00.002-06:00

I have had a few break throughs in a few areas of my life, for one, in my employment hunting--PRAISE GOD! I have job prospects with a few schools in the area and an opportunity to start up some private violin lessons in the next month or so. Additionally, today I applied to the local two year college so that I can begin my pre-reqs for my expressive arts therapy program, which means course work in psychology and art in January. Tuition is the same whether you take 1 class or 2, so I thought it a fantastic opportunity to make some headway in this area of my life. I am so excited to be back in the classroom as a student...and finally be back in the art studio. MAN, have I missed it. Like so many of my loves, unless I am creating for a specific class or event, a specific time set aside for it, the week is over before I have even written a word, or painted a single image or sung a melody. I do enjoy my writing time and have made more time for this endeavor--but so much of my job entails writing. I have blogged or created verse or letters more frequently this past month--- outside of my classes.

I am REALLY looking forward to the coming months. It IS getting easier, that which these past 6 months has been MOST DIFFICULT. I still have about 4 weeks left to teach this semester, 6 classes in composition and written analysis--a number of assignments still left to grade, but I am not nearly as stressed as previous semesters. I have been renewed. I have had a fairly successful fall. Even though at times I do have minor meltdowns when it comes to reconciling my home life with my professional life--all is well.

I do continue to wonder if people really can do both well...have a full time career and run a household--and if so, how does one prevent burn out.

THE TIME IS NOW

2009-10-17T13:05:00.002-05:00

"There is no better time than now. The time to live is now. The time to dream is now. The time to imagine and forget the past is now. The time to shine is now. The time to bleed, sweat, and determine yourself for the things you want most is now." ~ Anonymous

Some of the greatest quotes cannot be attributed to anyone in particular. I like the idea that someday, I too, may be quoted, that somehow my words may leave someone inspired in some small way. I needed to read these words today, to remind myself to keep breathing, to move forward instead of succumbing to a fear that has bloomed from circumstance out of my control now. I have more to think of, dream of, than a small choice made 10 months ago impacting my current circumstance. I must consider the choice today and choose more wisely from what I know within--right now-- instead of how I may be counseled by people who do not care as much for my future or my present--only for what will benefit them. They do not know what is best for me. Administrators have never understood what faculty need in order to thrive.

As a profession, teaching, has been quite rewarding in that while I have been teaching these past 10 years, I have also been a student. There have been many days where I have experienced joy in this field...the moments I can work one on one with students who seek me out during office hours or after class. But some days, literally, I have felt merely one small step ahead of my classes--suffocating under the weight of papers--feeling discouraged at the staggering lack of progress in students' essays even though I have labored to nurture these skills in them.

I long to return to the classroom, stretch my experience in a new direction--a career choice which will add to my quality of life, where I may nurture my own talents--where my cup is filled as fast as I empty it in this service. As I was browsing through graduate programs, I came across a catalog for a program in counseling psychology with a concentration in expressive arts therapy. A particular article entitled "Healing the BodyMind" written by Cappi Comba outlines one professional's search for healing from cancer, finding healing in 1st quitting what is of detriment. Impacted from a powerful dream, she describes a drawing she created in response to the dream's message: "My next drawing depicted a sage speaking to a child. The sage said, 'Do what you love and quit what is wearing you out.'" She then asked herself when was happiest. "The answer came –doing artwork, dancing, singing, private practice using the arts to help myself and others heal, working with students and doing workshops."

The above articulates a truth I have known for years yet have been too exhausted and too afraid to take the steps necessary to act on. Since the end of my undergraduate degree, over ten years ago, I have been nurturing this career dream. Will 2010 be the year I take that 1st step?

It's what you always talked about...

2009-09-29T07:43:00.007-05:00

So often in life, there comes that moment when someone reminds you of the dreams you once had, but what you've forgotten because the whirlwind of life has spun you some distance from that reality. You choose employment over dream catching and find yourself quite some many years later in a "job" for which you are grateful, but still left longing for something more. How did I get here, you often ask. I feel like a character in someone else's movie sometimes--if lives are like movies. What did I always "talk about" in my wide-eyed youth or turn over in my mind throughout my college years and my 20s?

Dreams:

returning to school for creative arts therapy
opening a two story art cafe in a small college town which also rents art space to budding artists and provides open mic nights for various creative events.
starting a natural foods co-op next door
leading a writers group
publishing a memoir
directing a choral and string ensemble
designing my own home on 20 acres the outskirts of a small college town with...

a 2 acre meandering treed driveway to the house, not visible from the road
the house completely self sustaining--off the grid if need be.
a front of the house, a serenely landscaped courtyard and central weeping rock amidst a wildflower garden with miniature fruit trees on the outer walls leading to the house
a large porch with hanging plants and wind chimes
a porch swing
a baking friendly kitchen with a walk in pantry for food storage and seed bank
restful and comfortable bedrooms with adequate storage for clothing, linens and personal items.
a library with built in book shelves of the most inspiring works, the best books
a music studio with hardwood floors and a baby grand where I can hold private and small group lessons or rehearsals and monthly recitals
in the studio, built-in book shelves to hold stacks and stacks of scores and sheet music and pre-recorded symphonic works and a sound system to play them on;
an art space with plenty of windows, available paper, canvases, paints, brushes, collaging materials, clay, a wheel and an outdoor kiln
a back patio/courtyard filled with potted plants and trees, a container herb garden, a vine covered pergola on one side for dappled shade, under which sits home made patio furniture.
a stone path leading to a natural formed pool area with plenty of plants and a water feature spilling into this oasis.

I have drawn plans many times with different layouts, variations and the like, but the heart of the dream remains the same--to create a respite from the world with inspiring environments from one area to the next--fully functional, harmonious and inviting to all who enter as well as spacious enough for family and friends to visit or stay.

For now--I have a type of dream realized--what is perfectly acceptable. I suppose I consider this my practice home--one I will try to shape as much to the dream as possible...enjoying trying new things...an exercise in problem solving...so that when the time comes, I am ready to apply my knowledge with the next dream. For now, I am committed to enjoy the journey from here.

Thoreau once wrote, "Dreams are the touchstones of our character...I have learned, that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours."

As I research and make choices now, I am moving ever closer, and that "idea" is exciting.

UNRAVELING

2009-04-20T22:14:00.011-05:00

Remaining hopeful the month of May, a challenge. My professional life is teetering precariously on a hair's edge, and I am powerless to balance the outcome. Will I continue my teaching career in writing? Will I go back to school? As I close another semester, I have never felt so uncertain of the future in my entire life.

This last fall was probably the best and worst semester of my entire career--the most stressful, the most classes, yet in many ways rewarding. There were clear mistakes made in every single area of my life, a thousands ways I was stretched beyond what could ever be considered effective. In some regards, I am surprised I even had classes this spring. If I learned anything from this past fall it is to say WAIT ONE SECOND...I am only ONE person... I cannot accomplish what you are asking from me and be effective. I have to stop worrying about the fallout if I do say no to people, if I say, enough is enough. This has always been an issue for me--and I now HAVE to scale back, whether I like it or not. This principle is true----humble yourself---or be prepared to BE HUMBLED, but it smarts, trust me.

In the past there have been personal consequences to the professional choices I've made the last 5 years. I began my teaching career in music and often wondered if I made the wrong choice getting into higher education. So much of my spiritual and personal life has gone to the wayside due to the schedule I've kept trying to build my career, but NO MORE.

I have 5 classes scheduled this next fall (as opposed to the 7 this semester or 11 last semester).

I have finally moved into a house I will be able to make a home for the next few years--5-10, one where I won't lie awake at night worrying how I will make my mortgage payments; one that, yes, needs work, but one with a great deal of room for our needs and the quiet peace of mind that comes with a community in the country where neighbors wave as you drive by and walk across the street to say hello.

Last year about this time, one of my first blogs entitled, bit of earth, expressed my longing for this reality. I am humbled to finally have this vision for my life within reach. Do I have my garden yet? No, but I have the seeds and some garden tools as well as the yard to plant it in--let us not forget a companion who shares the same desire for dream growing and the guts to work for them--every one! Yes, our dreams are within reach.

Overall, though a few weeks ago when I began this blog, I felt like I was unraveling, I have come to realize that maybe these moments of uncertainty are meant to remind me of other dreams I have yet to pursue. This is only an opportunity for growth in a new direction--one more fulfilling and I have to believe there is something more for me if I have the courage to see my life differently and welcome the next step.

gross...

2009-03-07T21:18:00.000-06:00

why do men fart and burp all the time...?

INJURING ETERNITY...thoughts on walden

2009-03-07T16:54:00.004-06:00

I had been so envious lately of my friends who have decided to return for advanced degrees....remembering those magical times in grad school...how much the growth in those years. I remember the excitement of one friend inparticular after her first week of education classes last semester. She was elated, consumed with the depth of discourse among these diverse course offerings, and I was reminded how little I have grown in these last years out of school. Though teaching college has been a blessing to me in that I am forced in a way to continue "thinking" as daily class discussion challenges and suprises me, I have done very little in the way of personal develoment.

Recently, I decided to reread Thoreau's "Walden." One could easily spend many hours pondering but a single phrase or truth in his essays, but over the next few weeks I would like to chronicle my reactions to these truthes as I come across them, choosing to begin with the following lines:

"As if you could kill time without injuring eternity. The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation...but unconscious despair is concealed even under what are called the games and amusements of mankind" (11).

After reading these words last night in Economy, the first section of Walden, I stopped cold, convicted by this simple phrase. How often have we been admonished to seek wisdom out of the best books, yet how many hours of time are wasted in needless entertainments and diversions? It's no wonder how numb so many have become. As I turned the pages, I was confronted with my own apathy toward life as well as my constant inability to truly cherish the now...or extract the very marrow out of life as in a scene from Dead Poet's Society. We CAN have that every day of our lives if we but CHOOSE it, instead of a game of word challenge or another episode of "heroes".

Every few months I have the thought to reconnect to myself...and I do briefly, but then it is back to diversion. I need some serious FIRE UNDER MY BUTT.

The last few months I had been saying, as soon as we close on the house...I'll start then...I will take control of my life. As our closing date was pushed back a week, here I am, contemplating my sorry state, but also grateful for this moment of conviction. I can't be the only one who is sleep walking through their lives right now!! How did we become this way?

It is never just a morning or afternoon or weekend wasted, is it! This time wasting, though it begins small at first with an hour or two, will eventuall consume whole days, looking down the barrel of age 34 with nothing much to show for it...and certainly none the happier that I have caught up on all my episodes of "Lost." or beat my high score on Geo Challenge. The time IS now, not later, to make choices for eternity.

Beyond Expectation---The Subtle Inner Adventures and The Imapct of 1st's

2009-01-31T08:37:00.010-06:00

First of all, is it me or has facebook become the preverbial "woodwork" from which people crawl? HOLY Wah.... I got a message today which reminded me of one truth--none of us have ANY clue as to the impact we really have on others and if we will be remembered. In some ways its a little scary. We can be remembered for good OR for ill. The great thing though? Most reunions have seemed to be at least either neutral or positive. Honestly though, isn't being remembered at all kind of surprising for some of us? Haha...except...Just when you thought...you could finally get past what happened in elementary school....there they are to remind you.

These past few months have proven the most thought provoking, challenging and rewarding of my life. The spring semester at Northwest Vista College is well under way and I am beginning to achieve balance again. My course load proves a blend of composition and literature courses with an equally diverse blend of students who are challenging but many have emerged who are right on the edge---that striking counterpoint of strong-opinion and sincere desire to learn. I have also been fortunate to glimpse flashes of their potential, seen students blossom during class discussions and course assignments--far beyond expectation. What a blessing it is to have such an opportunity to reach so many.

Another WOW for me? The marriage. Completely not at all what I thought it was going to be...for good and for ill. :-0 ;-) Am I allowed to say that out loud? Don't get me wrong. In many ways, getting married has completely exceeded my expectations. But is it me, or is this stuff kinda challenging? When I say stuff, I mean communication... compramise... forgiveness... unconditionally loving another person. I am kinda glad this chapter of my life didn't begin until age 33. Didn't Jesus start his ministry at age 33... ? Yeah....I find it no strange coincidence...although... it will probably take me MANY more years to achieve the love he had then....to overcome my natural man (or woman in this case). Even with the challenges though, what a HUGE blessing it has been to have someone in your corner...a cheerleader...a willing ear, one who will give you truth even when it is perhaps not the easiest road and to offer forgiveness when you don't deserve it.

At the end of November, just 1 week into eternity, we had our 1st thanksgiving....with so much to be thankful for. After the close of fall semester in December, Chad and I had a month to "honeymoon." We made many memories that month. We chose to adventure Arizona, as we had begun our journey last summer exploring local points of interest the first half...one of which involved finding a white Christmas. What an adventure...as most adventures, not without its drama. We also made it further north for a speedy tour of the painted desert and petrified forest. A few day hikes and an overnight hike in the Superstition Mountain wilderness for new Years...then it was a 15 hr drive to San Antonio where we enjoyed more subtle Texas adventures.

While in San A, we also did a bit of house hunting. Earlier this year I wrote about wanting "a bit of earth" and now---as if I wrote this dream into existence, it is near a reality for us. I believe it was my first entry back in May of 2008. We will close on our 1st home the beginning of March pending the home inspection on Monday, a modest property--a 1600 sqft house which stands on .61 acres of affordable comfort...and just outside the chaos of the city. We are looking forward to building a life together, gardening, adding our unique touches to make this place "home".

I had no idea even a year ago that I would be where I am today. So many first... and so many more to come. No doubt life will continue to surprise and delight us for years to come. May we continue to also meet life with the same gratitude and joy.

Post Marriage Reflection

2008-12-02T19:11:00.004-06:00

If ever two were one, then surely we. If ever man were loved by wife, then thee. ~Anne Bradstreet

How long it has been since last I pondered the meaning of my days...completely immersed in the beauty of life's experiences. I have scarce had a moment to really process this past months events. I am immersed alright...and no doubt once I have resurfaced I will have great insight--but for now, I will say--WOW.

Content Communication?

2008-10-21T20:28:00.004-05:00

Forgive me, Bloggers, for I have sinned. It has been toooo long since my last confession, I mean blog (no catholic offense intended...). In the last few weeks, I have been listening to a talk series by marriage/relationship communication specialist and member of the church, regarding strengthening eternal relationships through better reception and communication skills...I am fascinated. I am consumed with getting this right. May this be the beginning of a beautiful journey.

beyond "'til death do we part"

2008-09-16T19:09:00.005-05:00

I have recently experienced an amazing affirmation of how much I am loved and supported in this world. As I plan a wedding this fall, I have been in contact with so many people in hopes I will be able to coordinate the events of this day to accommodate as many of my dearest family and friends as possible as we celebrate probably the most important day of my life. I have often thought about how this day would be, my husband to be, my dress... I have seen in my minds eye the reception, the soft glow of white twinkle lights, familiar songs of love, the flowers and vines on each table around which are seated the cherished cheerleaders of my life...my parents weeping during the toast. This occasion marks the joining of not only two lives but many more as each of our family and friends meet. Because I have chosen to marry far from home, many of those dearest to me will be unable to attend. I accepted this possibility, but nothing could have prepared me for learning my parents would not be in attendance.

In September 2001, I joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and since then, my parents have been adamantly opposed to my decision to marry in the temple, a place where they would not be able to witness my marriage. I have struggled with this decision because they are so dear to me and I have always imagined them in attendance. The ordinance of a temple marriage is more than vows spoken publicly in a worldly, commercial setting..."'til death do we part." I understand fully the sacredness of this ordinance--the covenants that will be made there with my eternal companion and the Lord. I could not expect them to understand now, but I know they will one day in this life or the next.

August and Everything After...

2008-09-12T22:37:00.005-05:00

The time, how it does fly. August was a whirlwind of activity--I often wonder if with each year of our life the earth spins faster. I finished a successful summer II session of classes, road tripped a week mid August to see my folks in S.E. Michigan, fiance in tow...where Chad was approved, enjoyed as, to quote my mother, "one of the family"--no easy feat. As long as we stay away from "Scene it," we should be fine, right, babe?

Labor Day, the two of us flew to Western PA to meet his family where I was brutally beaten and ridiculed... :-) Uhhmmmm... no. Scarily welcomed--declared by his mom that I was an answer to her prayers. I don't know that anyone has ever said I was an answer to their prayers. (well...except one other person...)

After 4 hours on a plane alone, as I flew up the night before, and a 20 minute drive to Chad's sister's, sworn to secrecy--as our visit there was to have been a SURPRISE, which I of course blew within 15 minutes of meeting Chad's nephew, I felt at home with his kin. Saturday morning we picked Chad up from the airport and drove about 5 hours to a small community in North Western PA where we stayed at Oil Creek Camp Ground, just south of Titusville, PA. How green, how peaceful it was telling stories by campfire, waking without an alarm clock...sleeping in a cabin without electricity---sleeping too late :-). What a joy it was, meeting Chad's warm and dysfunctional family members. I mean this with the utmost love and fondness--I really enjoyed all of them so much....and I gained great insight into Chad's world--his roots--his skeletons...

The past few weeks have been about reconciling the reality with the dream. love seems as a thousand moments blended from both worlds. I hope he knows that even in the mundane he still wows me, though I perhaps don't say it as much as I used to. May the coming weeks be a celebration of what we have found in each other--and what lies ahead.

Life reflections--age 33...

2008-07-31T23:34:00.002-05:00

Tonight, on the eve of my 33rd year of life on planet earth...(on what other planet would I be?)...I find myself, as I do every year, pondering the meaning of this life. These last two months have been a time of growth, reflection, and true joy as I look forward in faith. Have I done any good this year? what a wild ride 32 has been. I lived, I loved, I laughed, I cried... and I have been blessed having finally met a man rivaled by none other. What a birthday gift...and I anticipate many more glorious years---into eternity....and beyond with him. What a gift he is to me. The sweetest love imaginable...

I sit beside one of my dearest friends, one who may never know how much she has meant to my spiritual progression. what a confidant, a kindred spirit who is a true inspiration to me--faithful---my hero as she has chosen the better part of this life. Each time I have reconnected with her, amazing things happen in my life. In 2001, I moved to Houston, I joined the church. In the fall of 2004, I went through the Houston Temple and she was there. In 2007, I moved here to San Antonio, and through yet one more experience, have overcome a lifelong fear of marriage and motherhood. In 2008, having the courage to see the blessings of my patriarchal blessing, I met my eternal companion. She has been there through the most difficult and greatest moments of my life. Can she ever know how much she has impacted this soul...how amazingly and beautifully she inspires those around her. The sweetest friendship imaginable... (Matt, you OWE me, big time!!

I ponder those who have influenced me along the way... a family who has loved me through all stages of life and is there to say...Crickee...Bubbulla...Jackie-rella...I love you...I'm proud of you. It hasn't been easy, has it, to love me so long. How blessed I am to say, I Jackie, having been born of goodly parents... How many can really say it, and mean it. I am in awe of the love they have shown me over the years. In all reality, though there have been harsh words, hard truths, there has always been love. With a bushel full of extended family, cousins, aunts, uncles... what a joy they have been to me over the years. Though they are far away...they are do very dear to me.

Each year...as I reflect upon the blessings of my Father in Heaven, I am reminded of still more blessings in store...and am humbled to my knees.

Can't handle the happy...

2008-07-09T10:57:00.002-05:00

Have you ever had one of those weeks where you think it just can't get any better and then...its better? Who in the world deserves so much happiness? I almost feel guilty, as if happiness in life is somehow earned and if you are unhappy, ususally its because you screwed up and got what was coming to you. How messed up is that? Call it the catholic in me...the me that feels I only deserve punishment for the wretched person I am.... I AM THROUGH with it!!!! I say SHOW ME THE HAPPY....BRING IT!!! and how humbling are the blessings when they do come...

Karma. Do unto others... however you slice it, I have always lived by these principles and try to "pay it forward" as often as I can, no matter what IT is. Being nice to people has always been pretty easy for me. What can I say, it is a gift. These past years I have really been fine tuning this gift, loving people through all manner of "tough" and maybe I am just now finally learning to fine tune my receiving ability as well. I am a great giver. I have always struggled with receiving, but am getting better every day. I guess I have learned to live with really low standards for people in my life, never really expecting a whole lot from others so I will not be disappointed. Maybe this has been my problem, not expecting greatness in personal relationships. what right do I have to expect anything from people. unless they are willing to give freely, openly, I always figured...what's the point? Of what value is it when not offered freely. Maybe this is how Heavenly Father feels with us? he gives us EVERYTHING...and waits patiently for us to finally realize what a gift that really is in our lives. HE doesn't want it half heartedly.

what a blessing it is to have finally found someone who "knows" what he has in me and is glad.

I asked this question "is this how its supposed to be?" having no true frame of reference for this kind of fulfillment or joy. "yes" Life is supposed to be this happy, and blessed are those who are shown this glimpse of happiness.

"The One"--The Good, Better, Best--that make all the difference...

2008-07-01T12:50:00.010-05:00

Have you ever met someone who was just easy to love? The subject of choice and freewill has been a recurring theme this past month...the thousands of insignificant decisions we make each day that when viewed singly, seem of little consequence. However, as they say, God is in the details, in the simple acts of faith that bring us in line with the will of our Father in Heaven. It is realization of the small and simple truthes that brings us closer to the right path through choices made each moment, through our daily living. Amidst the small choices/opportunities we are given, we are sometimes given choices of a much larger consequence.

Recently the topic of "the one" has come up and I thought I would just throw this out there...open up the discussion. What is the one? Is there really such thing as the one? If we miss the opportunity with "the one" is there "the two" who we can find a reasonable amount of happiness with in this life--in the next?

In the past, I have pondered these questions, at times feeling so certain, even though I had not met "the one" yet, that such a person was fashioned just for me, I had only to meet him. This is not to say that we haven't found a measure of happiness with various others, but that "the one" would be that person who seems to be so familiar, comfortable, yet challenging, our compliment, our champion--the one who pushes us to be our best selves while loving us exactly where we happen to be on that journey. They are indeed the BEST option of the good better and best laid before us.

I wonder if many people merely lack the faith to wait for "the one" and so, when given an opportunity for some form of happiness, though not the man who "completes them," they jump at it. If you can't be with Mr. or Ms. Right...Enjoy Ms. or Mr. "Right Now" so to speak. I have talked to a few people who have made lives with men they didn't feel were "the one" necessarily, but who felt they were marrying good men who would love them. I have worried over the idea of being yoked unequally. Many have heard me say a hundred times, you can love the wrong one just as well as the right one. My father said this to me. But, it is hard to know until you find yourself yoked to this person that the inequality is staggering. Or maybe we do know or recognize and ignore this. If one marries because they love someone, knowing that this person is not really their equal, what then? is there still hope? Can men or women ever rise to their potential in such cases, become worthy of the love that has been shown them?

And is there such a thing as love at first sight...or at 1st conversation for that matter where all the tumblers click into place, unlocking an entire world you never thought possible? What if you feel as if this meeting was not the 1st conversation with them, as if you had been in communication your entire lives (even before) and each conversation or moment with them is as "things brought to your remembrence" much like the sweet simple truthes of the gospel unfolding before you--something already known? What ramblings. Does one really just know? And why is there such fear or aprehension in others when we tell them, I have met "the one". What is the timeline anyway, for just knowing. I remember back to when I first "knew" or accepted the restored gospel. There was no doubt in my mind or heart from the 1st moment. My conversion was love at first testimony meeting, so to speak, and then strengthened by a series of other confirmations of that "first" sight....each moment just reinforcing an irrevocable truth known at the core of you.

to just know...to recognize in another person certain "made to order" qualities that just fit us and no one else-- is this not what so many dream of... and are envious of in others who actually find it?

The Path to Eternal Life

2008-06-28T19:40:00.004-05:00

Throughout our lives, we find ourselves at a crossroads, the paths before us, sometimes one, few or many, depending on the topic of choice--and we must choose the path with each that will bring the most happiness into our lives, the lives of those around us, and ultimately to our posterity. Some of us have a difficult time actually seeing the big picture and making the decisions necessary to progress on their path, whatever that may be. The path we chose last year alone, may not lead us to our ultimate happiness destination, instead, it was only meant to bring us to a series of new paths--but had we not made that 1st decision then, we would not have been brought to these new opportunities today. (my point, you ask?)

The opportunities or paths available to us today are the product of past choices. Our choices narrow or increase based upon the foundation we have laid. Choose poorly, yes, the journey continues, but maybe with limited or less quality options --choose in wisdom, the journey continues, not without moments of trial or struggle, but if we continue, we will find ourselves exactly where we need to be for optimum quality of life. (is that redundant? I'm not sure)

Often, we don't discover our path choice is wrong until we find ourselves in a scary place, or we actually hit a dead end. We hiked with vigor, feeling we had prepared well, but the path chosen ends. These can result in times of doubt and confusion---second guessing your previous decisions...but the issue is not that you chose wrong, so much as you... chose wrong, realized it was wrong, but kept hiking down the path anyway, thinking it could work out. Up ahead, should you choose to hike further on this path, is a dead end. You feel it with every fiber of your being, even before reaching it. Now...hoping it is not so does not change it.

Here's an FYI. Even though the path would seem to speak to you (yes, I know...very scary, if not a little disturbing) telling you, "I'm not a dead end, I'm not a dead end. I love you..." DO NOT LISTEN!! It most certainly IS the path that will lead to nowhere and fast, perhaps misery, isolation, even utter destruction. DO NOT choose this path and so act contrary to the spirit/revelation/ intuition/wisdom you have received that this it WRONG for you. It lies!!! It lies!!!! (laughing maniacally)

The great thing about all this though? You have a choice!!! If you don't choose to continue down the path of misery and destruction, but instead choose a path lets say just 1000 feet before you, the one that would lead toward a brighter world, what you know could be amazing if you have the courage to take that leap, the previous path will just fade in the distance with each new step in the right direction. You know this, too, with every fiber of your being, that this path could very well be the one that leads to your eternal happiness...a path so lovely, lined with a row of willow trees, their branches flowing easily in the breeze... I digress... What am I talking about here...paths and willow trees?

Choose the paths that will bring the most happiness to you, those around you, and your posterity.

The "Almost's"...Overcoming Fear in Relationships

2008-06-26T16:14:00.012-05:00

Don't waste life in doubts and fears; spend yourself on the work before you, well assured that the right performance of this hour's duties will be the best preparation for the hours and ages that will follow it. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

I recently got an email categorizing relationships a friend had experienced in their search for that person who gets them , and is really glad. It went something like this:

The High school crushes (I love you from afar's)
The High School Sweethearts or first loves
The happy, healthy, really good for us's, but we weren't readies (pushed us to be better's)
The "its better to loved and lost than to live with that psycho the rest of your life's" (good one, dave)
The almost's or nearlies (the timing was off or an opportunity was missed)
The I know I only just met yous, but I could see my life with yous... (you are wowed, but it hasn't happened yet)
The think I get you and I'm glads

It would appear that the crushes would fall under the almost's or nearlies--both an unrealized relationship, and probably unrealized due to personal fear.

I am in one of those wowed, but hasn't happened yets....and I have to constantly fight against my own fears regarding the opposite sex, the ones I have fought against my entire life. The last few relationships I have had, have been approached with gusto---though SCARED, I stayed open and I loved anyway, with everything I had. I mean, we just need ONE to love us back, right? the right one. my mistake was in loving the wrong one, thinking that love would somehow change his nature--transform him--bring us both happiness. Enjoying eachother was not enough. My love was not enough for both of us, and he had none of his own love, for himself or for me, to contribute to our relationship. It took me a while to figure this out, or accept, that he was the wrong one which is what scares me most...that I just lack that "wrong guy" sensor and will make the same mistake again at the first opportunity. Though this "almost" feels NOTHING like the "wrong one" I just let go of--- the "almost" has optimism, is happy with life, is on a path to the temple, cannot wait to talk to me each day-- there is the part of my mind that says...yes, but the last one didn't feel like the wrong one either when you met him. ah...there is the rub.

They say, trust yourself, but what if you have been wrong? This is my struggle. My good friend, sucka, would say--enjoy the journey...have fun...see where it goes... and I am, though it is not without a certain haze of doubt in my ability to be the right one, let alone attract the right one--and to recognize him once I have found him.

THE JOYS OF TEACHING WRITING

2008-06-26T14:38:00.000-05:00

A student of mine once sent me these poems as justification for his late essay--a 1 yr late essay. I was awed and annoyed at his discovery-- awed that he had been wrestling with the thoughts of such fabulous writers and annoyed that I have not heard from him since. :-) No doubt he is making his own mark somewhere in the world. I wish him well.

Credo by Jack Kerouac

Remember above all things, Kid, that to write is not difficult, not painful, that it comes out of you withease, that you can whip up a little tale in no time,that when you are sincere about it, that when you wantto impress a truth, it is not difficult, not painful,but easy, graceful, full of smooth power, as if youwere a writing machine with a store of literature thatis boundless, enormous, endless, and rich. For it is true; this is so. Do not forget it in your gloomier moments. Make your stuff warm, drive it homeAmerican-wise, don't mind critics, don't mind thestuffy academic theses of scholars, they don't knowwhat they're talking about, they're way off the track,they're cold; you're warm, you're redhot, you canwrite all day, you know what you know, like Halper;you remember that, Kid, and when you feel as if you cannot write, as if it is no use, as if life is no good, read this over and realize that you can do a lotof good in this world by turning out truths like these, by spreading warmth, by trying to preach living for life's sake, not the intellectual way, but thewarm way, the way of love, the way which says: Brothers, I greet you with open arms, I accept your frailties, I offer you my frailties, let us gather andrun the gamut of rich human existence. Remember, Kid,the ease, the grace, the glory, the greatness of your art; remember it, never forget. Remember passion. Do not forget, do not forsake, do not neglect. It isthere, the order and the purpose; there is chaos, butnot in you, not way down deep in your heart, no chaos,only ease, grace, beauty, love, greatness . . . . .Kid, you can whip a little tale, a little truth, youcan mop up the floor with a little tale in no time; itis a cinch, you are the flow of smooth thrumming power, you are a writer, and you can turn out some mean stuff, and you will turn out tons of it, becauseit is you, and do not forget it, Kid, do not forget it; please, please Kid, do not forget yourself; save that, save that, preserve yourself; turn out those mean little old tales by the dozens, it is easy, it isgrace, do it American-wise, drive it home, sell truth,for it needs to be sold. Remember, Kid, what I say toyou tonight; never forget it, read this over in your gloomier moments and never, never forget . . . . .never, never, never forget . . . . . please, please, Kid please . . . .

So you want to be a writer ? by Charles Bukowski

if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.
if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.
if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.
if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.

don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.

Plan B

2008-06-24T11:36:00.002-05:00

Plan B. --the plan we have when what we really want seems out of reach. I often wonder if even having a contingency plan is planning for failure. I'm not sure how I feel about it. In relationships, this is known as having one in the wings. Before breaking it off with your current partner, you start creating realtionships with others who could quicky take their place, should it not work out with the first. The plan B. I have recently learned that this past year, I have been someone's plan B--when I thought I was their plan A. I mean, do you discuss marriage with a plan B? But after talking to a few friends, this seems to be an ever widening trend, the men or women who have people they have already det up a 5yr or 10 yr plan with...the "if neither of us is married in 10 years, we should get married" kind of plans. How naive I have been. I fell in love with a guy who only saw me as a way to kill 9 months until he could be with the person he really wanted to be with. wow. Admitting that I am that girl who lived in denial for 9 months, is a bit humiliating.

I never thought I would be someone's plan B.

slow to ignite

2008-06-21T23:06:00.000-05:00

I gaze to the sky full of stars, dreams not yet realized

Our flashlight beams cross in the humid night
As we hunt for dry wood among the brush
through a cloud of insects drawn to the light.

I look to the sky, dreams as pinpoints of light.

Doused in Deeps Woods off, we pound the trail.
An earthy breeze swirls as I watch his form descend
into darkness, then emerge with branches in his arms--
poison oak and ivy kissing the edges of the path.

I glimpse the forest full of twinkling dreams on firefly wings.

At camp, we stack tinder at the heart of a ring.
I look down to see our own flame glimmer,
still but an idea in the pile of wood gathered

And I dream of a kiss beneath a sky full of stars,
anticipate the moment as he artfully builds;
the brush ignites quickly, smolders, then dies.

Embers glow with the promise of dreams.

He repeats the steps, tearing paper, rebuilding, relighting
then fanning the flames, yet humidity frustrates our goal.
In the ring, one can see the evidence of fire still clinging to twigs

As he steadies his gaze on the dream in the ring,
I contemplate more than flames in these embers,
I too am slow to ignite, quietly clingling to the idea fire.

Dare to be...

2008-06-21T22:00:00.000-05:00

Our strongest human need is approval-- to be accepted by our families, friends, peers, the church, even at times, at the expense of our own individualism. In order to belong, all of us, in some way, have conformed to the accepted behavior dictated by these external forces. I have been thinking about writing a collection of my struggles with acceptance through some creative non-fiction.

Looking back at the home movies from kid-dom, I had two looks, or rather, two ways of dressing and behaving in order to belong. My mom, on special occasions, after I had been freshly bathed and powdered, clad me in pretty dresses, lace and shiny black patton-leather, my short curly hair in a single barrette pulled to one side. I was sent to elementary school in dresses and tights before the age of 8. The color of the dresses changed; I was sometimes in tights, sometimes not, but I was always dressed up for school. As I got older, 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th grades, I remember going to public school dressed in slacks or jeans, sometimes with suspenders, my hair, what my mother called a page boy, though my hair rebelled in brown wings. By the time I returned home at the end of the school day, my hair always “bedraggled,” my cheeks smudged with dirt, either from recess or the walk from the bus stop and always a new hole ripped in the jeans or the shirt. Thinking back, my behavior when wearing girl’s clothing as opposed to when I was sporting jeans and t-shirts, was markedly different. I twirled in dresses; I romped in jeans.

When I was 8 years old, on the elementary school playground at recess, I remember playing hard in my rustler jeans, blue-black denim boy jeans, while others of my sex wore pink stretch stirrup pants and white Keds with frilly white laced socks and white shirts with pink hearts sewn into the front and the sleeves. I was what I would call a pretty, dainty and giggly girl. I smiled a lot, but not while donning bows in my hair, and playing Chinese jump rope. I played floor hockey. I played soccer, many times as the goalie, keeping snarly haired boys from making the easy goal, just because I was a girl. Boys were not afraid to ram into me with shoulders or their elbows in order to win. On outdoor recess, most times I would run out and slide into their shins to kick the ball to the half field line during soccer, or our version of soccer, even when the field was still muddy from fall rain earlier in the day.

On Valentine’s day in 1997, the field, part snow and part slushy mud, I blocked a killer rush by Matt Henderson, a 6th grade soccer god, and one with whom I was particularly smitten that year. Oh yes, I did like the boys. I know I was dressed like them, but it was mostly because I ruined girl clothes and Mom saw that boys-wear was more durable. On lunch recess, right before our big Valentine’s extravaganza with cards and cupcakes, I slipped while kicking a dirt-caked soccer ball to our lead runner, but not before landing in a track of cold mud right in front of the goal posts. As the bell rang to line up at the door, I stood up, my entire left side coated in slush soaked soil, and trudged to our class line, girls pointing, boys elbowing each other as I passed. Back inside the classroom, as others passed paper hearts and candies with “Your Sweet” and “Be mine” on them, I was sent to clean up in the girl’s bathroom, my teacher scolding me for being so messy. After returning, I walked around the classroom, placing valentines in students’ hand decorated mailboxes, saving my most cherished heart for Matt H. You know the card, the one card in the set cards that read the words, “I love you,” saved only for the most special of valentines. My friend Bubba dared me to slip the coveted “I love you” card in Matt’s box.
How could I be so tough and so girly all at the same time? At home, I played with Barbies and trucks. I was only just becoming aware of my “otherness,” how I wanted to be noticed by boys, how I wanted them to hold my hand like they did Christina Shaffer’s or Tonya Wilson’s. Other girls were especially precious on Valentine’s day, eating their candy hearts, wearing their hair in braids or long loopy curls, their long hair, shiny and fruity smelling. But I had boy hair, wingy boy hair, or really, too long to be boy hair, too short to be girl hair. Boys wanted to punch me in the arm, not hold my hand. I wonder now, what shapes this behavior—what makes girls, girls and boys, boys? Was it truly my clothing, the way I talked, my way of walking, my softness that showed my girlness? What I had experienced next would cause me to question how others perceived me.

Later in the spring of that year, students in my school walked door to door to ask for pledges for what was called “The Walk for Mankind.” Pen and pamphlet in hand, I wore a pair of blue corduroys and a black t-shirt, brown suede leather shoes on my feet, and my hair short. After knocking on several doors with little success, I came to a house, not far from my own down the block when an older man, maybe in his late sixties answered the door. “What can I do for you, son?” he asked, looking at me above his bi-focal glasses. I only looked at him, nervous and embarrassed, only telling him my spiel on how we were walking this coming Saturday, and for each mile we walked, we were asking that neighbors donate a few cents for each mile. He opened the door and accepted, asking me further if I knew how far I would walk that year. I replied with the written distance on the pamphlet—20 miles. Still stinging from the man’s unknowing insult, I walked on home.

This neighborhood man had no idea the impact his words would have on a 10 year old girl. In seventh grade, I refused to let my mother cut my hair and I begged for pink shirts and pedal pushers, for girl shoes and fun hair accessories. For Christmas that year, I asked for make-up, jewelry and a curling iron, which I burned my forehead on at least once a week for a month while I was learning how to use it. I asked to get my ears pierced. I painted my nails every Saturday afternoon. I was determined I would never be mistaken for a boy again. If I played sports, I would throw like a girl, run like a girl, or how I thought a girl was supposed to run, awkward, as if it would mess up my hair. My freshman year in High School, I went out for girl’s basketball. My long curly hair pulled back in a ponytail, my red basketball shorts and jersey not hiding my developing female form. My Father attended my games, cheered me on, the son he never had, though he had a son who was not into sports. This was the only trace of boy that was left, but it was alright to run suicide sprints in basketball shorts if I had long hair and wore lip gloss on a team of other girls who did the same.

My hair longer, my lips shining with pink glitter gloss, by my sophomore year in high school, there was a quality lost from my eyes, a certain unhappiness now in my mission to erase any trace of visible boy-ness. But I found little rejoicing in my identity after deciding what it meant to be a girl, after allowing others to shape me, my parents, and decidedly, my peers who followed their prescribed sameness, or risked social exile. Relatives also reinforced this girly change, flattered me with their compliments on what a pretty young lady I was becoming. I wish someone had seen inside, noticed how lost I was in searching for myself. It would have been more helpful had adults sat me down, told me it didn’t matter if I wore boy jeans and no make up, that I had value enough, no matter what clothes I wore. To ask me then, I would have decidedly argued, “This IS me! This is who I am,” but at the same time I was still uncomfortable in my skin.

As I grew into womanhood, the attention I so craved from the opposite sex was now mixed with a certain fear of their attention, whether or not I was in a dress or in jeans. It would not be until college that I understood that my individuality as a woman was not so inextricably linked to the length of my hair, or if I accessorized, nor was my femininity destroyed if I wore baseball caps or enjoyed sports, though I feel myself sometimes straining to overcome those formative years—body conscious, always uncertain of how others see me and awkward around other women who know what is expected of them, and oblige--awkward around men who know what they want and it's me. I guess I am still shy about such things.

Today, though I still wonder at women who are able to move so comfortably in such roles, or who subtly break them, forging their own paths, each day, I have experimented with my own blend of the masculine and feminine and find joy in my humanness, celebrating qualities I had not realized til now, and those yet to manifest. May others celebrate our discoveries as well.

in the moment...

2008-06-21T21:27:00.000-05:00

I want to finally meet someone who helps me to really love RIGHT NOW, not what will be. Does such a man exist? I have always been one obsessed with 5 years from now...with being old already, having already achieved the knowlegde of the universe, ready and able to meet any challenge of life. Part of this being old already involves having already found my sould mate, now enjoying a 50th wedding anniversary as my beloved looks at me over his spectacles and smiles gently, contented in our silverhaired love.

I have rarely allowed myself to enjoy the journey in my relationships, the view from right here without judgement, or worry, or expectation--just the pure joy of the moment. a great friend reminds of this ALL THE TIME...and YES! I hear you!!! Don't get me wrong; I have experienced many magical moments in my life and have thoroughly enjoyed each one as they have unfolded right before me. I am just an impatient soul, and having experienced the magic of the moment, I crave a thousand more moments--RIGHT NOW. I play the "wouldn't it be cool if..." game... :-) then...reality...the magic unravels as I try to work out the details and the question--how can this work, when I should be focusing on right now.

I have recently had the courage to see my life differently, opening myself up to new possabilities in the relationship game, and though it is WAY fun getting to know people again, I strive against this little voice--future driven--contantly weighing and measuring options, listening to the details and myself for that "thing" that lets me know if I should proceed. I am an all too serious girl.

ARE THEY WORTH IT?

2008-06-16T21:31:00.000-05:00

It is a difficult thing, moving on, and knowing the exact moment when to do so has always been my struggle. As a result, I wind up hanging around long after I should--the idealist in me clinging to the possibility it will work out--what ever IT happens to be. It has gotten easier over the years to break loose from the ITS in my life...the failed relationship or friendship, the job... it has gotten all to easy to move on in some cases. I think now I struggle with staying somewhere after I have moved on, because moving on has always meant literally MOVING on with a clean start. I have made 6 major moves in 8 years. I think I have taken the MOVING part a little too literally. In light of my last post, my struggle with mattering to others, this may seem a contradiction. Maybe the fact I have moved so often sheds understanding on the reasons I feel so disconnected as times, or estranged from people.

My recent wrestling has been with this last move to San Antonio, TX, where I thought I was moving for one thing but really moved for something entirely different--Not that I'm complaining! I am actually the happiest I have ever been in my entire life--oddly enough. I am living near one of my dearest friends from college and her little family, I have more work than I know what to do with, I am making friends--feeling apart of the community here... I am trying to enjoy each day and make the most of the opportunities that are opened before me.

In all actuality, maybe it is a good thing I haven't moved on in some areas of my life, when perhaps others might have. I decided to persevere in higher education--even when I had experienced a few years of closed doors, frustration, bad pay, and ingratitude to experience what I have right now--work at a university (how they let me in, I'll never know) and equally rewarding work at a local community college, both of which have proven rewarding in many regards. Had I moved on when it seemed I would not succeed... I cannot imagine...

Relationships with family, friends and potential marriage partners are no different. Many say that people grow apart or break up or...whatever, but really, I think many are far too willing to just let go when they should have recommitted and saw the relationship through. Is there anyone else out there who is willing to fight for what is important, to stay...when the world would say "this person isn't worth it..."?!!! I vehemently rage against the dying of relationships. Family is a prime example of this! Family is worth fighting for--we take the good with the unbelievably frustrating and somewhere in the mix we must DECIDE--they are worth it. Why should our friendships or relationships with anyone else be any different?

Forgiveness, compassion, understanding, patience...and more patience is key. We screw up sometimes and so do others. We have irritations, experience a mortal wound-- but when others move on--I enjoy trying to move forward, remembering what I once valued and loved about them. Perhaps, I express my issue with them, but ultimately, I have to DECIDE--are they are worth it?

Relationships are struggle and heartache and joyous and so worth it. My regrets are few, but I have never regretted choosing to see a relationship through.

the houdini's of my life

2008-06-09T22:01:00.000-05:00

Did you ever notice that when you REALLY need to talk to someone and have tried calling most everyone in your contact list who might be still awake on a Monday night, there is NO ONE to be found? Why is this?

over the last few years, I went searching for those I had lost touch with over the years to prevent this night, right now, maintaining connections, no matter how remote, so that I would have one to "touch base with" on a night like this....to hear that excitement.... "HAAAAAYYY....How the heck are ya?" and at the end of the conversation the "I'm so glad I caught up with you's". Affirmations Affirmations... When does the insecurity disappear? I live alone. I want to be missed. I want to be on people's minds...I want people to call me and wonder how I have been...and so I try to have these kinds of conversations every few months or so, just enough to remind myself that people miss me, that even though I moved away...or moved on...I am somehow missed by them or thought of. Pure vanity, I'm sure. I have managed to amass a small following of kindred spirits to prevent a lull in social outlet, yet here I am. I must have left 10 messages tonight and maybe 7 or 8 earlier today. wow...I guess that only makes 17 or 18... but when you call them and listen to their voice mails and leave messages, this can leave one quite discouraged after 15 or so. Yikes... I know it would be silly of me to take this personally...that some isolated unavailability is somehow systemic...leading to the slow death of all my relationships, yet...is this not where it all begins?

This caused me to reflect a bit...a theme I have battled off and on since elementary school. there is always this piece of me that feels like I don't really matter to people the way they matter to me. Is there some dysfunction there? I have a pattern. I am attracted to Houdini. I want to be wowed...I listen to people, give them all I have to give...and even what I don't really have to give, then they disappear from my life--often without explanation.

I wonder why people disappear from my life--friends, men... wondering if it was something I said or did to offend them...to put them off. I rarely receive closure. It is always ok if I don't express a need, but the moment I do--they vanish--hence reinforcing my inability to let people in--never letting people know how much they mean to me--how much I DO need them, for fear they too will buckle from that expectation. In all honesty, I don't know if I have ever truly trusted anyone past about age 16...with what is in here. Often, I feel like people give up on me about the time I am actually invested.

Tonight is only a reminder of what I have felt throughout my life. Even though I almost expect it to happen, I am still surprised when it does. One could argue that my expectation of this happening actually wills it to be-- the old self- fulfilling prophecy. Others would argue that I expect too darn much from my relationships...and this is why people wind up fading away from my life...unable to meet my expectations. It is easier for them to vanish than to face me and explain why they want it to be over I guess.

i secretly wonder if this is also why I am still unmarried at soon to be 33...though I shrug off the reality of my singleness as no big deal in the life of a successful 30 something educator. My problem is that I want magic, but fail to realize that this magic often accompanies illusion and the disappearing act that follows.

Appologies for previous whining...

2008-06-06T01:17:00.000-05:00

Ahhhh...the sweet balm of the spirit returns. I can feel the love of my savior so strongly in these turbulent uncertain times. i do have so much to be grateful for...I have not forgotten the dearest friends and family who have never forsaken me. Where would I be if not for them? God is good and this too shall pass. I am destined for a great love and this just was not it. Praise God I could know now and not 5 years from now...

other great news... I have been offered a full time instructor position with Northwest Vista for the fall with benefits and a step toward a tenure track position in the next few years. I guess when one area of your life is discouraging, there are other aspects that seem to counter balance that frustration. A good thing...a very good thing.

Yes, it is 1:30am...I think I have finally come full circle with these emotions and am ready for sleepytime. Until we meet again...:-)

Broken Hearted

2008-06-06T00:38:00.000-05:00

I am the last person to admit loss, that I have been utterly defeated-- but here I am. I have lost the one person I have ever really loved and there is no helping it, soothing it, healing it. There is no counting the tears that have watered my pillow this night or scales strong enough to bare the weight of this heavy heart. I have been defeated, so much so that I feel Iwill never recover. What cruelty!!! I am envious of any who have found peace or lasting love... as I have been crushed for daring hope for such a love. I feel foolish now, betrayed... cast out-- the worst part, I have no closure....no final word on the matter or a merciful blow that would free me to move forward, only silence.

Seems only fitting afterall, that he would vanish as so many others have vanished from my life--weakly, without so much as a goodbye, as if in their minds I did not warrant a goodbye somehow. And who has ever cried over the loss of me? Who has ever realized what they have lost having let me go.

I know I am supposed to consider it great joy that I experience such loss or humiliation, that somehow I am to be made a stronger person for it, but I am angered at this. I have only offered kindness, devotion, sacrafice, compassion and understanding-- I have offered 2nd and 3rd and 4th chances and beyond. I have reached out, listened, fought for every realtionship I have ever had--and have lost. Not one has valued me, has cried over me. I have broken no hearts. Of what value then is the fight? What lesson am I to learn from this relationship, that I had perhaps missed with all others. All I seem to learn is if you give your heart to someone, if you serve them, have charity for them, expect only disdain, rejection, absence, their eventual silence.

I suppose this was the road Christ walked, isn't it. How much did he love, did he give...and yet he was met with hostility, brutality--rejected by so many he only sought to serve. Am I better than He? How little this suffering in comparison. How selfishly indeed is my love compared to his for mankind.

Family: the good, the bad, the absent...

2008-05-19T16:13:00.000-05:00

I struggle with living so far away from loved ones. Does absence make the heart grow fonder? I often wonder how true this statement really is, if love can really grow with the other away. Are phone calls, texts and emails enough to sustain family relations?

My family and I live 1500 miles apart from eachother and I am able to visit but 3 or 4 times a year: Christmas, Easter, Summer and the occasional mother's day like this year. I love my family, but in all truth, maybe my family counts themselves blessed at this distance most of the year, that they only have to endure me for 5 weeks a year instead of 52--I can't really tell some visits. Mostly I feel as if I am more of an annoyance than a joy, just one more person to drain mental/emotional energy, and of course monetary resources. I feel this strain the most acutely with my parents, especially my mother. The odds between her and I is insurmountable some days--leave me wondering why I do this, why I even continue in these relationships if I experience such heart ache both when I am away and when I am with her. And then...it happens...

those moments when I am endeared family, no matter the adversity or groutchy words, no matter the snarls, they are familiar, comfortable. This is why I stick around...this is why I don't chuck 'em, even though their impatience or judgement is most infuriating. It is those times of laughter, of, "awe shucks, I really love you guys," that really overwhlems the uncertainty and vexation. They ARE worth it. Though they be absent from me, though they may disappoint or disapprove, they are my greatest joy.

Family--The Delicate Balance

2008-05-15T05:16:00.001-05:00

After spring classes, I packed a bag and took a flight north for the cooler climes of my home state, Michigan. 50 degrees in May, as opposed to the 80+ with humidity of San Antonio in late spring....yes, a welcome hiatus this has been.

May...Ahhhh...that time of year where I traverse far distances to keep company with those of my kin--Yes, Michigan. My goal was to reconnect with my immediate family after an upset this past Thanksgiving--my last visit home. The fam proves a fragile eco-system all its own---a veritable wild kingdom and one must not upset the delicate balance of things, so at times I find myself treading lightly in this environment, fearing to wake sleeping bears or other predators.

One wonders how I survived for so long this way, a clumsy survivalist, snapping twigs beneath my feet, brushing branches sometimes roughly on this family path. Age 32 would seem long enough to learn expected twists turns, yet each time with them is unpredictable somehow.

Trees...worms...and other wonders

2008-05-09T19:27:00.000-05:00

"The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way. Some see Nature all ridicule and deformity, and some scarce see Nature at all. But to the eyes of the man of imagination, Nature is Imagination itself."

~William Blake, 1799, The Letters

Trees. What marvelous beings...can you call them beings...do trees have souls...am I being silly? I often think on nature, various aspects of nature, and wonder at creation as a child wonders at worms after a rain in summer.

A Bit of Earth...

2008-05-07T19:42:00.000-05:00

My first message to the world--

After work today, I drove out into the countryside looking for land. There is a highway circling the city 15 miles out and I mean to find my dream...somewhere between where the traffic begins to thin a little and my grip on the steering wheel loosens.

Must one wander in this life, a sojourmer in a concrete wilderness? I long for a bit of earth to call my own that I may grow things, breathe deeply each morning the greenest green from my back porch, greet nature and the sound of a spring breeze--that air one can only breathe in fully, miles from the city-scape. I dare not breathe so deeply here; I have been holding my breath a long time.

I hear there are homes one can build that are completely off the grid, made from recycled automobile tires, glass bottles and cans. The roof of the house collects rain water into a cistern and plants grow throughout the house. Imagine drinking water that does not smell of chlorine. The energy comes from solar and wind generators. Can a person really live this way, leaving less of a footprint?

I long for a hobbit dwelling, indeed. I long to live at peace with God's creation instead of contrariwise. Instead of living to the rhythm of countless grinding car motors, booming radios and yakking televisions, I warm to the gentle hum of life about me.

Can such a place exist, and if so, how much; the cost of gardening supplies? 248.50; the cost of a pickup truck full of dirt? 100.00. How much to own the land so you can actually have a garden? 100,000. Enjoying the fruits of your labor--priceless. I feel like those commercials—for the rest of us, there’s mastercard.

Would I have to sell my firstborn? Should I wait a little while longer...and if so, how long? Must my life be full of want only...for what is just out of reach?