People have said this to you before,"Never Say Never." When you are a child, it is generally said about mostly harmless statements like:
"I'll never eat broccoli...or brussel sprouts...or peas."
"Never say never." Your Mother may say and ten years later, as you scoop another pile of peas onto your broccoli infested salad, you'll remember.
As you age, the statement becomes more dangerous and about subjects that are character or reputation related.
"I'll never drink and drive."
"I'll never do drugs."
"I'll never go back to school."
"Never say never" Your brother or best friend might say. Then one day, as you wake-up with a sore throat, unable to remember how you got home and no idea how you are going to turn your research prospectus in on time, you'll remember.
I recently had a "never say never" moment in my life. In 5 weeks, she'll fly here. Like a small child eating brussel sprouts, believing they are shrunken cabbage heads and afraid that my head will shrink upon consumption, I am scared.
Friday, October 5, 2012
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Three Years and a lot of Tears
"You asked me if I would be sad when it happened
and I am sad. But the iris I moved from your house
now hold in the dusty dry fists of their roots
green knives and forks as if waiting for dinner,
as if spring were a feast. I thank you for that.
Were it not for the way you taught me to look
at the world, to see the life at play in everything,
I would have to be lonely forever." (From Ted Kooser's poem Mother)
I have read that poem several times over the course of the last couple of days. Today, I read it as the workday was drawing to a close and no sooner did I reach the end of the poem then did tears start to flood my eyes. "Were it not for the way you taught me to look at the world, to see the life at play in everything, I would have to be lonely forever."
Her greastest lasting gift to me was the gift of love. Love of life, love of nature, love of family, love of people, love. She gave me eyes from her tiny window in the screen door. I love the world. I love the magic of new buds, the smell of wind over meadows, the taste of rain, and the sparkles of sunlight through blue spruce. I love my life and do not want to miss a second of it...but I miss her. three years later, I still feel the pain of separation, but I am not lonely. As in the poem, the way she taught me to see the world and live, live, live will never cause lonliness.
and I am sad. But the iris I moved from your house
now hold in the dusty dry fists of their roots
green knives and forks as if waiting for dinner,
as if spring were a feast. I thank you for that.
Were it not for the way you taught me to look
at the world, to see the life at play in everything,
I would have to be lonely forever." (From Ted Kooser's poem Mother)
I have read that poem several times over the course of the last couple of days. Today, I read it as the workday was drawing to a close and no sooner did I reach the end of the poem then did tears start to flood my eyes. "Were it not for the way you taught me to look at the world, to see the life at play in everything, I would have to be lonely forever."
Her greastest lasting gift to me was the gift of love. Love of life, love of nature, love of family, love of people, love. She gave me eyes from her tiny window in the screen door. I love the world. I love the magic of new buds, the smell of wind over meadows, the taste of rain, and the sparkles of sunlight through blue spruce. I love my life and do not want to miss a second of it...but I miss her. three years later, I still feel the pain of separation, but I am not lonely. As in the poem, the way she taught me to see the world and live, live, live will never cause lonliness.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
This is Our World
Recently I have been reading the news. With several online publications displaying the day's headlines on my iGoogle, I wait for my gmail to load and read away. Although I am spending everyday of my life working towards a degree in environmental education, I live in a bubble in Northern Wisconsin. My life is paid for in exchange for...well my life. I wake-up. I drink coffee. I eat breakfast. I great students and strap on their snowshoes. I explain to them about animals and plants and try to instill within them, in an hour or two, wonder. I have been doing this, or something similar to this for several years. I live in a bubble and talk about mysterious species like they are fictional novels...but not today.
Today I have spent the majority of my day in the office intermittently checking facebook, doing a little homework, and twiddling my thumbs. Then, I started reading the headlines. Syrian Troops fired on mourners attending a funeral creating the need for at least one more funeral. A mother of two was burned alive in Nepal after being accused of being a witch. Air Pollution increases our risks of strokes. In Virginia, a law is being pushed to required women wanting abortions to have an ultrasound probe jammed up their vagina, so they are forced to look their fetus in the...well unformed eye. Rick Santorum is an asshole...I summarized that headline.
There are countless headlines like this every single day and today they have me thinking. How? I want to know "How?" How did we let this happen? In other countries, can we still say, "It's cultural?" A woman was burned alive. I know this sort of brutality happens all over the planet, not excluding the U.S. but who the fuck cares where it happens? This is our planet. We are a part of all of it. Does a wolf in Yellowstone know that she is protected within the boundaries, but if she wants to walk to another safe haven, Grand Tetons National Park, she may legally be shot? No. She does not know boundary lines, because she doesn't give a fuck. She needs food and water and a safe place to rest her paws. End of story.
I guess my point is that this has to stop. We need to quit destroying each other everywhere. We need to open our fucking eyes to what is important in the world. A woman doesn't want her baby, big fucking deal. There are a million other babies dying on this planet, because they don't have any food. Why don't we spend the ultrasound probe money to actually save a baby that has been born and is starving or being abused. Why don't we spend the money Santorum is using to debate birth control and save someone from being burned alive or dying of AIDS or having maggots eat them alive. Why don't we stop talking and start doing...but I don't know what to do. I'm over educated and idealistic. Help.
Today I have spent the majority of my day in the office intermittently checking facebook, doing a little homework, and twiddling my thumbs. Then, I started reading the headlines. Syrian Troops fired on mourners attending a funeral creating the need for at least one more funeral. A mother of two was burned alive in Nepal after being accused of being a witch. Air Pollution increases our risks of strokes. In Virginia, a law is being pushed to required women wanting abortions to have an ultrasound probe jammed up their vagina, so they are forced to look their fetus in the...well unformed eye. Rick Santorum is an asshole...I summarized that headline.
There are countless headlines like this every single day and today they have me thinking. How? I want to know "How?" How did we let this happen? In other countries, can we still say, "It's cultural?" A woman was burned alive. I know this sort of brutality happens all over the planet, not excluding the U.S. but who the fuck cares where it happens? This is our planet. We are a part of all of it. Does a wolf in Yellowstone know that she is protected within the boundaries, but if she wants to walk to another safe haven, Grand Tetons National Park, she may legally be shot? No. She does not know boundary lines, because she doesn't give a fuck. She needs food and water and a safe place to rest her paws. End of story.
I guess my point is that this has to stop. We need to quit destroying each other everywhere. We need to open our fucking eyes to what is important in the world. A woman doesn't want her baby, big fucking deal. There are a million other babies dying on this planet, because they don't have any food. Why don't we spend the ultrasound probe money to actually save a baby that has been born and is starving or being abused. Why don't we spend the money Santorum is using to debate birth control and save someone from being burned alive or dying of AIDS or having maggots eat them alive. Why don't we stop talking and start doing...but I don't know what to do. I'm over educated and idealistic. Help.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Later We'll Be Better
It's been a really long time, since I have felt inspired enough to even consider writing in my blog. I am overwhelmed with schoolwork and actual work and, whenever I get a chance to breathe, someone walks in and starts talking to me. Be careful what you wish for. When I was in high school, all that I wanted in the world was to easily talk to people. I do a decent job now and it came at a cost - my alone time.
I'm not complaining, although I can see where I might come off as if I am. Life is pretty good, but so busy and I'm tired, and I miss my family. I am listening to Adele's new song on repeat, Someone Like You. It is really good, but puts me into a bit of a melancholy mood remembering everything that has happened in my life in the past few years. It feels as if, after I graduated undergrad, someone hit the gas pedal on my life car and everything started to get really intense. Now, in grad school and completely consumed in work and school, I have done a pretty good job blocking it out, but then ghosts from the pasts reappear. 30 years ago, if I had lived this nomadic life, no one would be able to find me. I would be able to escape the people that fucked with my psyche, but today, I have facebook, the same email address, google...3 years ago I left Washington in a bittersweet haze. I continue to miss the children that I worked with, but the knot in my stomach from colleagues was in desperate need of being cut free. I successfully freed myself from the situation and was on my way from Michigan to Texas, Texas across the deep south to Florida, on a plane to New Orleans, a drive back to Michigan, on a plane to Galveston, onto a boat to float in the Gulf of Mexico, back on a plane to Michigan, back in the car to Texas, On a road trip to face bears and tumultuous relationships in Colorado to Michigan to Vashion Island to Chimicum, WA to feel the pain of failure and separation anxiety, I left to California to beat myself up for flaws, across the southwest, we stopped in Vegas, I pierced my nose, got lost in the desert, back to Michigan, and settled in Wisconsin in a desperate attempt to grow-up. That was quite a run-on of life. Sometimes I wonder, is life just one constant runaway game?
I'm not complaining, although I can see where I might come off as if I am. Life is pretty good, but so busy and I'm tired, and I miss my family. I am listening to Adele's new song on repeat, Someone Like You. It is really good, but puts me into a bit of a melancholy mood remembering everything that has happened in my life in the past few years. It feels as if, after I graduated undergrad, someone hit the gas pedal on my life car and everything started to get really intense. Now, in grad school and completely consumed in work and school, I have done a pretty good job blocking it out, but then ghosts from the pasts reappear. 30 years ago, if I had lived this nomadic life, no one would be able to find me. I would be able to escape the people that fucked with my psyche, but today, I have facebook, the same email address, google...3 years ago I left Washington in a bittersweet haze. I continue to miss the children that I worked with, but the knot in my stomach from colleagues was in desperate need of being cut free. I successfully freed myself from the situation and was on my way from Michigan to Texas, Texas across the deep south to Florida, on a plane to New Orleans, a drive back to Michigan, on a plane to Galveston, onto a boat to float in the Gulf of Mexico, back on a plane to Michigan, back in the car to Texas, On a road trip to face bears and tumultuous relationships in Colorado to Michigan to Vashion Island to Chimicum, WA to feel the pain of failure and separation anxiety, I left to California to beat myself up for flaws, across the southwest, we stopped in Vegas, I pierced my nose, got lost in the desert, back to Michigan, and settled in Wisconsin in a desperate attempt to grow-up. That was quite a run-on of life. Sometimes I wonder, is life just one constant runaway game?
Monday, April 18, 2011
Honoring the Sunshine
Do you ever have moments in the grocery store, the airport, or the coffee shop, where you see someone out of your periphery who you know. You turn to look at them and maybe walk up to them and ask them how they have been, but then something stops you. It is not the person you think it is. The person you think it is, is no longer among the living. A few days ago this happened to me. I was in the airport, sitting down to drink my overpriced Starbucks tea, when I saw my Aunt Pam at LAX. Upon first sighting, nothing seemed odd about this acquaintance, until my memory kicked in. My soul reason for being at the airport was to gather with my family in her memory.
Our minds are beautiful body parts. Anything is possible, if only for a brief moment in time. Right now I want to take it all in, embrace the loss, learn about the finiteness of time and how we should cherish each moment. We should not wait to call our Grandparents, parents, brothers, sisters, family, friends We should grasp everyday with positive love for the new day given to us. We should love until there is nothing left to love, find something or someone new, and love again. Hope until we are exhausted, sleep, and hope some more. We should take care of each other without asking questions and without expecting anything in return. We should be as selfless as our sanity allows. We should dream and chase those dreams until something forms out of them. We should travel the world, but return home every few months just to give the people who love us a hug.
Life is really hard and I have found that it never relents. It is in our handling of the world that builds or destroys our character. We must remain within reach of our homes and pass on our spirit. This is how we live forever.
Our minds are beautiful body parts. Anything is possible, if only for a brief moment in time. Right now I want to take it all in, embrace the loss, learn about the finiteness of time and how we should cherish each moment. We should not wait to call our Grandparents, parents, brothers, sisters, family, friends We should grasp everyday with positive love for the new day given to us. We should love until there is nothing left to love, find something or someone new, and love again. Hope until we are exhausted, sleep, and hope some more. We should take care of each other without asking questions and without expecting anything in return. We should be as selfless as our sanity allows. We should dream and chase those dreams until something forms out of them. We should travel the world, but return home every few months just to give the people who love us a hug.
Life is really hard and I have found that it never relents. It is in our handling of the world that builds or destroys our character. We must remain within reach of our homes and pass on our spirit. This is how we live forever.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Time: The Misleading Factor
It's what we crave most in this world - more time. More time to to finish that project. More time to spend on our Spring Break. More time to share stories with family on Christmas Eve. More time to spend with the people we love. More time to laugh. More time in that final embrace. If only that last breath lasted a lifetime, we could suspend time, hang in a moment, dangle our lives over a life that is quickly dissipating.
Unfortunately, nothing lasts forever. No one stays forever. Eventually, we all walk away on our own path. We all abandon someone in the end.
In less abstract terms, the abrupt illness of my dog, Harriet has caused a catharsis of memories to erupt. Christina's Dad in a casket; Toe's Mom 4 years later; my Grandpa screaming for it to stop; my cat, Pizza, lurching her paws forward in pain; the last time I saw Kay...and then there is the worst sense of abandonment, loss, fear, grief - the day my Grandma, my best friend, my soulmate's eyes went stone. Her breath was still constant, her hands still warm, but she was no longer there.
More time. I would give my left kidney for more time.
Unfortunately, nothing lasts forever. No one stays forever. Eventually, we all walk away on our own path. We all abandon someone in the end.
In less abstract terms, the abrupt illness of my dog, Harriet has caused a catharsis of memories to erupt. Christina's Dad in a casket; Toe's Mom 4 years later; my Grandpa screaming for it to stop; my cat, Pizza, lurching her paws forward in pain; the last time I saw Kay...and then there is the worst sense of abandonment, loss, fear, grief - the day my Grandma, my best friend, my soulmate's eyes went stone. Her breath was still constant, her hands still warm, but she was no longer there.
More time. I would give my left kidney for more time.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
My Worried Shoes
I'm hiding under the wicker table with my dog, Droopy. My Mom is screaming, running down the street in her pajamas, "Pizza!!! Pizza!!!! She's dead! I know she's dead on the highway." My Mom is crying. I am crying. Droopy is snapping at my face. My Dad puts a leash on Droopy and takes her outside to look for Pizza. Within ten minutes, Dad comes inside with Droopy hungry for a treat and Pizza under his arm. Mom and I gush over the cat, crying tears of joy into her fur until she scratches at us and wanders to the food dish...Tomorrow, Pizza will be dead, again. I will cry under the table once more, and Dad and Droopy will bring her home.
Fifteen years later, the daughter under the table's stomach will start to churn, her fingers begin to twitch, the memories of what has happened circle around her, laughing and taunting her with "you dumb schmuck. You let this happen to you, again." In the end, it will be out of her control and have nothing at all to do with her, but she will still think it does. Since she has been bred into this fucked-up illusion of a world, she will assume that the world is out to get her. If you got burned once, why not twice, and over and over again? If this is not about me, though, than something horrible must have happened. Someone must be dead on the highway and in some way it is my fault. Whatever the case, something is just not right. I can feel it in my gut. The normal has been compromised and I've picked up on it by 2pm. It is the curse that my Mom has gifted me - the curse to feel when something bad is happening or about to. It is a curse that leaves others thinking you are crazy, because you cannot offer any proof, but you can also not shake the feeling. It will consume you, until the answers are realized. When you finally find out, you look back at the situation and realize that the person you were insanely worried about, is a person you barely know. So who is this worry really about? It's really a fear of being left behind. The fear of someone walking out, again and again. The fear of countless broken promises. The fear of rejection. The fear of death. The fear of lonely.
Fifteen years later, the daughter under the table's stomach will start to churn, her fingers begin to twitch, the memories of what has happened circle around her, laughing and taunting her with "you dumb schmuck. You let this happen to you, again." In the end, it will be out of her control and have nothing at all to do with her, but she will still think it does. Since she has been bred into this fucked-up illusion of a world, she will assume that the world is out to get her. If you got burned once, why not twice, and over and over again? If this is not about me, though, than something horrible must have happened. Someone must be dead on the highway and in some way it is my fault. Whatever the case, something is just not right. I can feel it in my gut. The normal has been compromised and I've picked up on it by 2pm. It is the curse that my Mom has gifted me - the curse to feel when something bad is happening or about to. It is a curse that leaves others thinking you are crazy, because you cannot offer any proof, but you can also not shake the feeling. It will consume you, until the answers are realized. When you finally find out, you look back at the situation and realize that the person you were insanely worried about, is a person you barely know. So who is this worry really about? It's really a fear of being left behind. The fear of someone walking out, again and again. The fear of countless broken promises. The fear of rejection. The fear of death. The fear of lonely.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)