A field guide to growing up without growing apart
It is crazy how difficult it can be to start writing again after taking a long break. Everything looks cheesy on the page and every idea either seems over dramatic or completely uninteresting. I want to be able to tell you guys about the best […]
For this month’s COTM I’ve asked my fellow princesses how they feel about the words YES and NO. Which one do we say more of and how has that changed over our lifetime? This is a fundamental question I’ve thought a lot about in the […]
You know those moments that somehow feel both infinite and fleeting all at once? Like when it feels like there is nowhere else you should be but a second later it’s over and you’re looking back on it already? There are the big kind of moments, like when you get something you’ve always wanted or are surprised by someone you love. But there are also little moments that on paper shouldn’t really be that big of deal, but in that moment you take a second to look around and something assures you that this is important, this matters.
For me this week was filled with a million of those little moments. Nothing specifically remarkable happened, I was just visiting Seattle for a friend’s wedding. But now that I’m back in Utah I feel like I lived a lifetime in those ten days, looking back on another person’s life.
I got to Seattle Friday night and stayed ten days, using my friend’s wedding (and wedding shower and bachelorette party and rehearsal dinner) as an excuse to spend two weekends and 5 week days with the friends and city I used to see every day in the five years I lived there.
I bounced from apartment to apartment, carrying the spare keys to my friends’ homes with me like my own. Riding the busses came back to me easily this time, unlike when I came back for the first time after I’d moved away. That visit everything had seemed foreign, but this time everything seemed effortlessly familiar. I knew what to do and where to go, when to leave and what to bring. This time I went to places I’d never been, wandered through the same places we’d always visit, surprised at how much time I felt like I had. There is never enough time in a visit to a place like Seattle, but this week I wasn’t worried, it felt like I was back for good, or at least like I could come and go as I pleased.
After the bachelorette party I dropped off the bride-to-be at her house before walking the 5 or so blocks to my home for the night. The party had gone well, a dinner cruise on Lake Washington as the sun set was picture perfect and a burlesque show to end the night couldn’t have been better, but as I walked home in the early house of the morning I felt compelled to stop, to take a moment to remind myself that this isn’t daily life, that in a few days I’d be headed back to Utah – no return to Seattle in sight.
I climbed the ramp underneath the freeway and sat for a few minutes, listening to the echoes of the cars overhead and street noise below, letting my mind wander from the present to the future to memories of years past. I felt profoundly independent, in that no matter how many people love or are looking out for me, it still will always come down to me and what I’m surrounded by.
Doing this has become routine when I come to Seattle, I take a few minutes here and there to sit alone in the city and think about who I am and who I want to be. Usually I find myself by the water or at the top of the Space Needle, but it can be anywhere – on a crowded bus, on the couch at a friend’s apartment or under a freeway bridge in the middle of the night. It is in these moments that I understand what it is to believe in a higher power looking over me, feeling awed at how much there is to see and do and understand in the world. Taking deep breaths and doing my best to notice the details around me, I remind myself who I am, who I want to be and how important Seattle has been in helping me figure these things out.
When I’m in Seattle everything feels like a trigger. A scent, a sound, a bus route, or a type of tree, everything is connected to a memory or a person or an idea that keeps building on itself until I’m left with only a feeling, usually love. These triggers make it easy to fall into a moment, to connect all the parts of my life into something that doesn’t need to make sense.
In college the Naughty Princesses and I went to a Quaker church service to check it out. At the end of the service the group sits in silence together until people feel comfortable speaking about whatever they feel like. The aim is to let your mind wander and to share your revelations for the week with your peers. After about a half hour of sitting in silence, we saw that people slowly started to stand and speak about things like a book they read with an interesting idea or a person they met who helped them see the world differently. We listened in awe, the silence somehow making everything that was said more poetic and meaningful. After a few people spoke it became clear that some people took advantage of this audience more than others, but in all it was a pretty inspiring thing to consciously choose to let your thoughts go anywhere and to share any tidbits with a group.
So I was excited to hear that during my friend’s wedding ceremony we were going to have a moment of silence in the Quaker tradition for the bride’s parents. In this instance it only lasted a minute at most, all of us choosing our own ways to spend the silence, but even just that minute of time to take a few deep breaths and look around at the love surrounding us, made the rest of the ceremony a hundred times more moving.
I don’t know all the details about meditation, prayer, breathing exercises or yoga, but I do understand the power of sitting in silence. My life is the better for taking a few moments to look around and take note of where I am.
I don’t know if I’m happy. I’ve been working really hard the last few months at a new job and it feels really good. I like the concept of the company; I like the odds that it will succeed – setting me up with some […]
When something seems too good to be true, it usually is, right? I’ve posted in the past about how things happen to be going very well in my life right now. Great husband, great job, done with my education, getting to see the world, not […]
A few months ago the father of my close friends died.
Our parents raised us together, me and a pair of twins, a boy and a girl (I’ll call them Rachel and Charles) and I’m so grateful for them. We lived on opposite sides of town so we didn’t go to school together until 4th grade when the neighborhood boundaries switched and I walked into my new classroom to see Charles waving me over to come sit next to him. We’ve all been there for each other ever since, cheering each other on at sporting events and graduations, traveling together and sending letters across states, friends that are bound by more than just a few shared experiences. They’re part of my family, the fabric of who I am, and though I haven’t seen them more than a few times each year lately, I’ve never doubted how important we are to each other.
So when in August I heard that their father was in the hospital and they were coming back to Utah to see him, I was glad I’d get to spend time my friends. No one thought he’d be dead a few days later. Charles came back in time, spending his last day with him in the hospital joking and taking about where his father hid his weed. Rachel got to the hospital an hour too late, flying in from Alaska was just too far and no one thought their lively, 57 year old father was really at the end.
I sent them a text when I heard, saying I loved them and that I’d tell our friends, not wanting to be in the way when I knew they were about to be bombarded with family and friends and shock. Calling our other friends was hard, I was the only one in town and they all wanted to know what they could do – I told them there wasn’t even anything I could do. We’ve all been so lucky, none of us have lost anything close to a parent.
The next few days went slowly. I worked a lot and didn’t reach out to my friends, crying alone at lunch thinking about what they must be going through. People ask so much of you when you’re the family, I just couldn’t be another person that they had to deal with. I knew they knew I’d do anything for them, but my gift was letting them know that they didn’t have to do anything for me. He died Sunday morning and I stopped by on Wednesday to drop off a few photos of their father that my family had found, they were glad to see me, and insisted I stay to help them organize the photos for the funeral. I stopped by every day after that to help glue and print and fill the boxes of things that would represent their father at the funeral, making jokes and enjoying my friends liked I’d hoped to a week earlier.
My friends are tough, so strong that I only saw them cry about their father at the funeral when they were speaking together on stage. The rest of the time they smiled and laughed about their dad’s messy office and asked family friends about their lives. I smuggled them food at the funeral and blocked when they needed a break, doing my best to keep the mood light – that is what they needed from me, distraction.
But in the months since I feel like it’s getting harder and harder to keep distracted. The funeral and subsequent weeks felt like they were about other people – extended family, friends, insurance providers – every time I was out with them we ran into another person who wanted to talk to them about it or someone who hadn’t yet heard. I had to stand there as they comforted person after person, nodding and smiling so whoever it was would let them leave. But now it feels so much more personal, not only because I’m doing my best to be there for my friends, but also because I’m starting to admit my loss as well. I’m only feeling a small part of what they are, but I miss their father and without him here things are different.
Their birthday was last week and before Rachel left town for a ski race she told me to take care of her brother, that he’d never ask me himself to make his birthday special. I was planning to already but I took him bowling and out for a drink, trying REALLY hard to ‘act normally’ as I did my best to keep him entertained and distracted. But it felt harder than usual to keep smiling, and I felt a bit like I let him down as I dropped him off at his mother’s house barely after 9pm.
I know the three of them aren’t alone, they all have each other, and so many others, but they have such a large responsibility to each other now. And I know time heals, but lately I’m afraid that it’s going to get worse before it gets better. As the distractions fall away they’re going to be left with the truth. Their father isn’t around. And I don’t know if I can help.
So there was this guy. I know, I know, for as single as I am (hint: very) I write about boys a disproportional amount. How many crushes and almosts can a girl really talk about before her friends start to worry? But, please, bear with […]
The idea of a Bucket list has never really appealed to me. It seems like making a list of things to do before you die is so definitive and constricting. What happens if you die without completing it? What happens if you complete it and […]
GUYS! WHEN DID JUNE HAPPEN?!
I feel like I always say this but, seriously, has spring gone by too fast for anyone else? Now that June is here and my Grand Euro Adventure is coming to a close I’m really feeling the pressure of heading back to my ‘real life’ in the states (and finally figuring out something like a career). When I left for Europe I hoped that come June I would have everything sorted out, but here I am a few weeks from home and still no plan in sight.
So for this month’s COTM I’ve asked my fellow princesses to talk about who inspires them and how they hope to inspire others. Maybe by thinking about the types of lives we want to lead we’ll be better able to place ourselves within them. And hey, a little reminder of what matters can’t hurt, right?
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Inspiration! What a great topic. I just went with the first three people who came to mind, though many other people around me have influenced and inspired me throughout my life. To start with, there’s my husband. Cliché, I know, but I really love the guy. He isn’t without his flaws, but as I’ve gotten to know him over the years, as I’ve seen him at his worst and his best, I continue to be inspired. He’s easily the smartest person I know, and the things he’s been able to accomplish academically, in research, and in his career definitely impress me. Along with that, I’m inspired by how hard he works. While I tend to be a bit of a slacker at times, adept at knowing how I can get by with the least effort, he takes work, school, or projects at home seriously, and, as a result, he always produces quality work. He inspires me because he teaches me things, and he’s always trying to learn more himself. He makes me want to work harder and be better.
Then, if I think about famous or noteworthy people in the world that I admire, a name that quickly comes to mind is Malala Yousafzai, the young Pakistani girl shot in the head by the Taliban in 2012, who has since become a world-renowned spokeswoman for girls’ education. She looks just like the students I myself was teaching in October 2012, which is both terrifying and sobering. Malala grew up in rural Pakistan, enduring living conditions I’ll never have to experience, but loved going to school so much she refused to stop, even after receiving death threats. When I look around American public schools, I am awed at the students who will skip school with only the thinnest shred of an excuse. Malala had every excuse in the world not to continue her studies, but she did anyway, and she has never stopped speaking out for her beliefs. She’s inspiring—I’d recommend her book I am Malala for more information about her.
And while we’re on the topic of education, something very close to my heart, I’d like to say that teachers are the third “person” I find inspiring. I’ve known so many great ones who inspired me to pursue my own education and become a teacher. I’ve seen first-hand the work that is required and the sheer amount of crap they put up with, all for the sake of their students. Included in this shout-out are my grandmother, who moved to Cuba in the 1940s to teach and continued to teach high school for decades to help support her family, my mother-in-law, who after doing this job longer than I’ve been alive still puts in more hours than any teacher I know, my aunt, who is still teaching Kindergarten as she nears age 70, and numerous other friends, family members, and coworkers. It’s a selfless job, and they’re generally quite underpaid, but their legacy is priceless.
My hope is that my own students will be as inspired by me as I have been by the educators in my life. At the end of my first year of teaching, my kids showered me with so much love and appreciation. I knew then that I had succeeded in some small part—I had inspired them, and that made every long hour I had spent worth it. In two weeks I’ll see those same students cross the stage as high school graduates, and let me tell you: I can’t freaking wait.
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People I am inspired by? Well, as a Christian, I spend a lot of my life trying (and failing) to emulate Jesus, who was super inspirational. Loving people, caring for the weak, the outcasts, the poor, and not being afraid to stand up to the big know-it-alls of his time. Saying that we need to love everyone, even our enemies. I can’t think of anyone more inspirational.
Finding other examples of inspirational people is harder for me. I mean, almost everyone I know (both in real life and throughout history) has some traits that I find inspirational mixed others I wouldn’t want to emulate. It’s the nature of the human condition—none of us are perfect. However, I would say that recently I have been feeling challenged by those figures in history that were able to do what they think was right without caring a whit what other people think. Think about Martin Luther. Now imagine you were in Luther’s place: breaking from the one holy church—being excommunicated by the Pope whom most everyone believes holds the keys to heaven. Now that takes guts. Serious guts.
I was recently one of his treatise where he declared that he would ‘freely speak my mind’ regardless ‘if any of the Catholics laugh or weep’. I have a hard time stomaching even a hint of disapproval from those around me, and here is Luther alienating the majority of the world. And he doesn’t care. You can feel it in his letters—he surely cares about what God thinks—but wooing the approval of the leaders of his time (or anyone else for that matter) is at the bottom of his list. Now, Luther’s actions are not universally admirable. Beyond not caring what others thinks, sometimes he goes out of the way to insult them with egregious insults and doesn’t seem to put very much into understanding other people or their perspectives (If you think I am joking, try out the Luther insulter and you too can be insulted by Luther: http://ergofabulous.org/luther/ ). So yeah, I wouldn’t say he is a very good example for ‘loving your enemies’. However, I am inspired by his confidence in God. Luther never spent time kowtowing to others or shying away from confrontation—things I am guilty of way too often.
Now finally, the question of whom I inspire? I am not sure. I would say that I try to inspire academics around me by not stressing continually about my work. Of course, I am imperfect at this, and all the time catch myself stressing or obsessing. But I do believe that the kind of general over-whelming sense of stress and gloom that can arise in graduate school is destructive. The end of the world does not occur if you don’t hand in your thesis on time—the end of the world does not occur if your chapter isn’t as good as you’d like it to be. I think it is easy to fall into a false perspective that raises your individual daily trials to a position above all else in your life. After all, if you’re looking there is always something to stress about.
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I love that my parents never stop moving. They came to meet me in Italy for ten days in April and I’ve never been so tired in my life, the three of us running around ruins and cities from dawn till dusk. They work hard and play hard, always managing to stay focused on the present even though their lives are spinning fast. They build closets and gardens on the weekends after bike rides and yoga classes, ski on their mornings off and play poker on the weekends. They have great friends who better their lives and have no trouble connecting with strangers. They get up early and talk about their days, stay up late to finish things for work or a project for their friends. As cheesy as it sounds, I want to be (almost) exactly like them when I grow up. What better way to live your life than to take advantage of the time you’re given?
Sophomore year of high school a new girl showed up and my life has never been the same since. Julia and I had math and physics classes together and her enthusiasm to learn was unlike anything I’d seen. She loves life and so many things in it, talking passionately about film, music, landscape, political change, horses, medicine and writing just to name a few. What I love about her most is that she isn’t just interested in these things she goes after them too, taking the steps she needs to make what she wants a reality. She’ll start a conversation with a stranger and then give them her card, seek out the best in the field and then ask for an internship. She makes things happen and encourages me to do the same. When I’m nervous or insecure about what I want or how to go about it I think of her and know that she would tell me to try anyway. Sure she may change her mind next week and throw herself completely into something else, but isn’t that what life is about, the full on attempt?
But honestly, as awesome as all the real people in my life are, none of them inspire me as much as Spiderman. For the last few months I’ve started to think about Spiderman every day (it’s been easy since everywhere around the world children and adults are wearing Spiderman t-shirts). He’s become a source of strength and responsibility for me, someone who helps me get through hard things and inspires me to have fun while doing it. He reminds me that life is short and I have a duty to be my best self and help when I can, that I owe it to the world to do the many things I’m capable of. Sure, I don’t have to chase through the train station to return someone’s dropped ticket – but Spiderman wouldn’t even hesitate.
But he’s imperfect too, just a kid who is trying his best and never quite fully succeeds. He makes mistakes and is always just a little behind, exhausted because there is always so much to do in a day. Do I always do my best or take the time to do all I can? No, definitely not. But when I think of him I know that next time I’ll do better, that in the consistent attempt I’m making a difference.
I hope I inspire people to do all these things and more. I hope I lead by example, helping people explore their surroundings and say yes to new experiences. I hope the people around me work to see other points of view, and are reminded to be kind, generous and easy going. I hope I’m diverse and strong, intelligent and reasonable. I hope I inspire people to be happy, to see that the world is an incredible and beautiful place.
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I’m sure I could name a lot of famous heroes from history past and present like Mother Teresa or Nelson Mandela who I do definitely admire for their dedication and spirit of love. But the people who really affect me, have the ability to speak into my life and change me for the better, are the extraordinary ordinary people who populate the spaces of my everyday life. So who are these top three people?
(in no particular order)
*** Snow didn’t notice there was a part two to this question so while she thinks about the ways she hopes to inspire other people I figured it couldn’t hurt to write a quick paragraph of my own. I still want to see yours though! Snow inspires us in so many ways. She’s loving and enthusiastic, tough and enduring, raw and openhearted. She fights for what she believes in and forgives in an instant. She takes the time to appreciate the world (and people) around her and she trusts herself to know what is right. She is radiant and intelligent, creative and joyful, unique and loyal. She’s a blessing and everyone is the better for knowing her. She inspires me to show my love for people, because life is so much better when shared.
So about a year ago when I was planning this whole travel through Europe adventure, I invited everyone I talked with to come along. And when I say everyone, I mean everyone. In normal, everyday life this over invite plan works out well since half […]
I hate that depression is a thing. Last week when Cindy posted about possibly being depressed I cringed a bit at the word, feeling fairly confident that Cindy’s low mood was just that, a bit of a down time in a lifetime of millions of […]
A few weeks ago I posted about how I was down in the dull, wintery dumps. Bummed about being away from my husband, frustrated by bratty teens at work, losing interest in things that I used to enjoy, and sleeping away most of my free time. It was the first time in my life that I found myself seriously considering if I was depressed. But now it’s time for an update, because hey—spring has sprung!
I talked before about how the dark, rainy days kept me feeling down, so now that our dear friend Daylight Savings Time has come around again, it’s no wonder that my spirits have started to lift. It’s actually light out most mornings when I leave for work AND when I get home, and everywhere I look there are buds on trees, flowers springing out of the ground, and evidence of, well, life!
I’ve forced myself to get out of the house a bit more recently, though I haven’t completely given up on my afternoon naps. In the last three weeks I’ve been to visit an aunt in Oregon, as well as my in-laws and friends in Seattle, and next weekend I embark on a road-trip to visit an old friend and her husband. And this weekend I’ll get to see a bunch of fun people at a friend’s bachelorette party and wedding.
As far as work goes, there have been some positive moments, although they’re always mixed in with plenty of teenage angst and the annoyances that inevitable accompany trying to teach lazy potheads to write essays…I had my third official evaluation of this student teaching process and scored well. AND, I received some big news: I’ve officially been hired for next school year at a brand-new school opening up back in the Sandbox. So when I feel a negative mood coming on, I just try to remind myself how incredibly blessed I am to have a job lined up—yay for things to look forward to!
This time of living apart from my husband and powering through a professional challenge has been tough, but I can officially see the light at the end of the tunnel. As of tomorrow I have only four weeks left of teaching, and 46 days until I hop a plane back to my old life. I’m stoked! And in the meantime I’m going to do my best to make the most of all those days, focusing on the positive as much as possible. I know I’ll look back on this someday and know it was definitely not the hardest thing I ever had to do—there are probably much more intense and potentially depressing challenges somewhere in my future. Isn’t it all kind of a matter of perspective, anyway?