so tired, so grateful

1. hard yoga class that opened up some emotion in me that i hadn't been accessing. 

2. cooking dinner with jimmy....fresh asparagus, spinach with chick peas, liz's lentils.

3. reading through the play i started to write while i was in china and finding that it still sounds pretty good...i really want to keep working.

4. right now, reading your story, soft bed.

5. my mom is coming tomorrow!

A narrative, including Grandparents

He sat in a tightly wrapped ball, careful not to let his face show. It worked well. It was such a clever disguise that even the clusters of girls, who know everyone, especially the boys, couldn't identify him. "Hi Alec.", called the chittering amoeba gliding past to the playground. It wasn't at all worth his energy to speak, "No, it's not Alec. It's Sam." It looks dumb to talk with your head between your legs- with your voice coming from your crotch?, and there's no good way to look up while wiping away tears like it's nothing.
It was nothing. They decided to play four-square with a basketball because they couldn't find the real ball and he wasn't looking and he got hit in the face. But it really hurt. The urge to cry and the promise not to duked it out as he ran. When he got inside the school he wasn't really sure what to do next, so this tightly wrapped ball was what he did.
He sat with his head tucked between his crossed arms and listened to the clips of voices and the different rhythms of feet. He thought about how much longer he'd have to be at school before he got to go home. He tried to remember which house he was going to after school, Mom's or Dad's. If it's Mom, then this is the weekend they go up north to his Grandma's cottage. It's not really a cottage, it's more like a trailer. It is a trailer. His cousins might be there, but probably not his Grandma. If it's Dad's weekend, they might go up there and then they might not- his Dad works alot, even on the weekends, so he might get taken up north but then he'd have to hang out with his cousins by himself. Or then maybe his Grandma would come. Sitting on the floor, just outside the office, tucked into his neat ball, Sam decided that he would build a fire in the woods this weekend. Probably he could get his cousins to fish with him. The bell rang, kids rushed in and all around. Sam stood up, pretended to push his long, blonde bangs back from his face and joined the crowd back up to class.

One sunny day

mental activity.

1. i am grateful that you are also going through some guilt-withdrawel/life challenges too, because i can see it so much kinder when looking at it from your point of view. i was so upset after work today that i bought "codependent no more" at the local spirituality bookstore and chatted to the very quiet owner about wanting to take a guilt-fast and how it's so hard for me, etc. i guess i needed someone to talk to...a quick read through the book told me, yup, i am codependent, wanting to make people happy, often hard to figure out what i want, feeling responsible for so many things i cant control. i don't want to get too identified with names and conditions, but i do think this book could have some good clues to take another step. these are all just steps and being conscious of that brings so much to light.

2. i am grateful for waking up with a smile for the first time in a while.

3. i am grateful for a nice chat with my yoga teacher and another headstand.

4. i am grateful for diana and amani at work.


5. i am grateful for the handmade paper store. i am grateful for the wonderful smelling bushes that someone planted in the middle of the roundabout. i am grateful for the small glimpses of conscious presence that i cultivated admist my very confused thinking. i am grateful for reconnecting with kali over gchat. i am grateful for picking out fun music from my eye pod (hee) for the documentary piece. i am grateful for free cone day. i am grateful for another day, another opportunity to listen and try to understand/live well.

love to you!

comment boxes are for wusses

I called Jim from work today and told him what happened. It was just a short phone call, I just wanted to say out loud to someone what had happened before the shock wore off and my ego put its spin on it. (Now I feel drenched in that shit.)
When he got home he sad he'd bee thinking about the comment box at work since he'd talked to me. They used to have a comment box at work, where people could leave anonymous notes about whatever. These notes would then be read and shared at the monthly department meeting by Jim's boss. I guess people had been too negative and disrespectful with their comments so Jim's boss took the box away. No more anonymous comments. Jim felt cheated out of his opportunity to one day leave a disgruntled comment in the box. He felt like, some day, he may have a comment that would be perfect for the box but now it will have nowhere to go. He also thought, how stupid to ask people to share their thoughts and then take the chance away when the thoughts shared aren't nice?
When I got home I started looking for ceramics lessons. I was thinking of coil pots, but it seems like it's been done. And then I realize that this is the kind of thinking that got me into this spot in the first place. I may have seen lots of coil pots, many people all over the world have made coil pots, but this class of fifth graders hasn't.
I have spent most of this year grossly overthinking and severely undertrusting. I am still willing to let go of any guilt and to redirect that energy into something positive. I will work towards balance, peppered with self-love.
Goodnight.

Guilt free!

I'm on board for a guilt-free week. I will practice transforming my feelings of guilt into pro-active steps towards change.

Clay

Yesterday I unwrapped all of the clay vessels that the 4th graders made to find that almost all had cracked. The clay shrunk but the paper tube armature inside did not. They're in the "leather hard" stage, which means they're perfect for carving but very, very fragile and virtually unmendable. I patched the cracks with clay, but I think I only created an illusion for the kids that their mug was fixed- the two clay bodies will likely dry at different times and pull apart...
At the beginning of the year I would have sat on the floor of my classroom and cried, for letting down that whole class of kids and for confirming that I am not a very good art teacher. I still do feel badly for the kids, they worked hard on this lesson thus far, but I am slowly learning to be more forgiving of myself. Things like this must happen. People don't start out as great teacher, but turn into one over time. It all takes patience. I also believe that if I had melted into a puddle of self-pity I might have taken too narrow a perspective to see that the cylinder can still be divided in half and turned into a dish. It might actually be a better thing than the cylinder. And if I really wanted to put a glossy sheen on my clay debacle I'd go a step further and say that the lesson for my students of what can be made out of a mistake is a very valuable one.
I still do wish I was well-versed in all media and a phenom of an art teacher, but I'm trying instead to see myself as a budding art teacher with lots of potential and a true desire to grow. The latter take patience that I'd never learn were I the former. Sigh.

one more bit

can i also add another assignment to the week? 

i'm going on a one week guilt fast. i am not going to feel guilty for anything and instead put that energy into asking for what i need and letting people take responsibility for themselves.

i invite you to join me.

on jealousy...

this is one i don't want to write, but i don't see anyway around it.

when i did my silent retreat in january, i walked over the frozen illinois tundra and the wind bit my face and the words kept forming themselves in my mind, singsonging from my childhood. "it's so big, you can't get over it. so wide you can't get around it. so deep you can't get under it."

there are some issues in life that are so big, so much karmically bigger than you are, that you can't just hope they'll go away. they have to announced and cried over and lived into the future where they finally, with humility, let you have occasional peace. this whole process takes a lot of honesty and steps forward and back. 

i have gone through this with body image, with men, with wanting to feel beautiful, with wanting to feel funny, with wanting to have best friends, with wanting to love and accept my father (still working on this one). 

i'm currently working on jealousy though. there, i said it: i'm jealous! 

i'm going to celebrate being jealous right now. i'm jealous of happy people who have flowing lives. i'm jealous of molly because everyone loves her and she attracted a happy relationship so quickly. i am jealous that liz is dating someone new and i'm not. i'm jealous and afraid i'm going to be left out when my two roommates/best friends have someone new in their lives and i don't. i'm afraid this means there is something wrong with me. i'm jealous of laura for having a stable family that spoils her and a boyfriend that spoils her and has never had to deal with loneliness (or so i like to imagine). i'm jealous of amanda because her life has fallen into place and she is dating someone who spoils her.

wow, writing is so good. this whole day i was thinking i was just generally jealous, but from writing it all down i can see that i am jealous of my friends who are in happy relationships with men who dote on this. i am jealous of this because i don't feel worthy of having a relationship like this and i don't know why. 

i wish i didn't want it. i wish i could be stoic enough and accepting enough and desireless enough to just wait patiently and believe in myself and the universe that i will attract what i need, when i need it. somedays i am. today i feel messier. today i look at the general trend of my mom and her relationships, of my relationships, my fathers relationships, my brothers....i'm starting to feel like i'm screwed. i feel the weight of generations upon me.

breathe. there is a tightness in my chest these days. i don't know exactly what it means.  i thought it was from switching jobs, but it could be more. i'm worried about starting my new job and mad at myself for feeling worried, for putting expectation and desire on top of everything else. i'm worried that my new boss isn't going to like me as much as he thinks he does.

it's hard to write all this, and let it all fall to the floor all of my defenses, not be positive, not be sunny. it really scares me to have people see me be less than perfect. the result is that i am closing off my connection because i can't find the time to monitor everything that comes out. maybe this is why i can't talk on the phone these days....i want a delay button or a chance to rewrite out three rough drafts, a dress rehearsal, three dress rehearsals...but i want the actors to think they're doing the real thing.

phewsdsjs;ldfasldkjf;asdlkj

it's good to vent all of that. now for dinner. cream of spinach/broccoli and pupusas! love love to eat even through the messiest moments.

This week's lesson

Create a visual or narrative representation of "I got as close as I possibly could."

this was much harder than i thought...my inner crtic was out of control!

christi's head was low enough to the ground to take in the enormity of the woman's ankles. they looked like a chubby baby's ankles, dimpled and although she knew it wasn't correct, they seemed bigger that the calf that followed and could have even rivaled the thighs, if they hadn't been hiding underneath the soft blue pants that hung sympathetically from her waist.

the woman, the great primeaval goddess of a woman, was actually not as fat as her ankles would have you believe. anyone who was not lounging on the concrete underneath the grocery store's overhang with her hang propped up by her elbow would tell you that that she had just let herself go after a number of bored years or nasty kids. but no, christi looked down at her own 14 year-old body with it's skinny bones and reluctant swelling of fat glands, no she thought, this situation has become dire.

it had begun to rain and from underneath the overhang, christi watched as the woman placed her lone paper bag in the trunk of her car, directly underneath the metal side bar. "pfut" the woman slammed it down weakly, disappointing christi who had always like to listen to thunder and other assorted loud noises.

"god dammit, mother fucker, this fucking thing won't close," the woman shouted, face opened, eyes awake.

christ flipped over onto her stomach and placed her chin atop both palms, avoiding a brown gum patch. this was getting good.

"shit shit shit, i'm going to be late," she said. "he'll be waiting for me." she was angry now, and christi marveled that the other passengers could walks by without taking in the giant woman's angst.

"what are you going to do?" shouted christi with an odd smile on her face.

the woman stomped a ankle, pivoting toward christi and really started screaming. "who the fuck are you?"

"don't you remember?" christi's smile was getting bigger.

"no, fuck, i have to go, fuck, why are you smiling?" the woman had a larger brow, and a face that could have been pretty if it weren't for the immense pressure of the anger. her hair was brown curly and thrown up carelessly. for her size, she moved quickly, only inhibited by the girth of her ankles and the house slippers getting wet in the rain. the cleaniness of her car would have surprised anyone who was walking by, had the careless husbands stopped to notice anything in their hustle to get to their car with the promised missing ingredient tucked inside the plastic bag, like each's own private holy grail.

christi was laughing now. "he told me you would have trouble remembering, but this is crazy. look closer, ramona. it's time to start remembering. start by looking where you put your bag,"

ramona let out a grunt. she didn't want to talk to anyone. she didn't want to know why this skinny little girl on verge of blossoming on the knowledge of everything the world tries to keep from you. she mustered ever big of energy through her wet face, and screamed.

"i'm not ready. i'm not ready to meet you" finally, a passerby turned around, although he took in the scene and increased the time inbetween steps.

"well, truthfully, neither am i," christi sprung up. there was a little hurt in her face that she wasn't old enough to hide well. "i'm actually late for dinner. cheesy chicken casserole with the crunchy crust, your favorite."

christi did not break stride as a white taxi pulled up and she stepped inside. an old man who fine white hair and a down-turned face fiddled with the volume knob and did not glance up when christi opened the door. ramona could see from a glance that it was the dirtiest taxi she had ever seen. then christi slammed the door like the brat she was and would continue to be her whole life, if only in her most private moments. without a word exchanged, the taxi drove off into the rain and through the steam rising up off the strip mall parking lot.

ramona, teetering atop on her giant stems, finally knew what she was doing wrong. she moved the bag to the middle of the trunk, and slammed the door down, shaking her hips for emphasis. no one around her would have guessed that she was a once a beautiful dancer. that was her secret, well....her and christi's.

i just saw "harold and kumar escape from guantanamo bay" and it was good. i mean, really good funny, intelligent, and at the end of it actually i felt happier to be an american than i had in a while.

i am grateful that danny is coming to visit.
i am grateful for nina simone.

i am grateful for learning hip-downs and shimmy shimming in dance class.
i am grateful for the thought of george bush smoking weed.

i am grateful for a the day lived off a good night's sleep.
i am grateful for running for the movie in the rain, and making it just as the previews started.

i am grateful for a fancy drink and rich food.
i am grateful for eckhart tolle and oprah podcasts.

i am grateful for the view over rock creek parkway of all the tree tops that makes me think of what this area looked like before we were here and how it will look again someday.
i am grateful for grocery shopping with liz and buying the right staples vs treats ratio.

i am grateful for going with the moment.
i am grateful for my new job.

i am grateful for the weekend.
i am grateful for trusting myself.

i let it all change.
i breathe.
i
i have to

fall apart sometimes...

to realize how whole i am.


imperfect moments are going to come,
that's a given. i'm ready and open.

my hands are open.

chin close to my brestbone.
head goes to heart.

it's so simple that i never found it before,
which leaves now.


****
i just remembered the assignment for this week.
i'm going to write it tomorrow night. i have three good characters saved up from my week.

love you.

odd bookends

Last night I dreamt that I knew I was dying. I had taken this herbal tonic and I remember something about a nose spray I think, and I may not have been me, but I remember clearly thinking OK so this is going to make me feel sleepy and then it'll be just like I'm falling asleep. And for what seemed like forever I was dreaming about lying in bed and allowing myself to fall asleep, and wondering if I was dead, at what point would I know? I know, it's so incredibly morose. I don't often have dreams like this, and I don't think I've ever dreamt of dying. Yesterday my Mom sent me an article about the blood disease she has, Polycythemia something, and said she found it interesting. It was about how researchers have isolated the gene that is telling my Mom's body to overproduce red blood cells. Polycythemia is when your body creates an overabundance of red blood cells, very few of them whole and viable- it's kind of like a red blood cell factory run amok. It was a relief when my Mom was diagnosed almost ten years ago- it explained things like why her cheeks were always flushed, why she had such bad migraines and maybe why she fainted so often as a girl. The thing she never mentioned before, that I found out through the article she sent, is that Polycythemia can lead to Leukemia. My Mom has a way about communicating this way- "oh, didn't I mention that? I thought I had..." She told me that she as been able to maintain the same blood levels since she started taking the medicine for it, and that that only happens to other people not her. This may be why I am having the dreams that I am.
Family gratitude:
I am thankful for the wisdom my Mom taught me about my own body
I am thankful for the time spent listening to my Dad embellish my storybooks at bedtime
I am thankful for all the times my brother let me convince him to sit in my doorway until I fell asleep
I am thankful for all the trips to the botanical gardens with my Mom
I am thankful for my Mom's hamburger pie, with green beans to sneak in some veggies.
I am thankful for my Dad's comb and all the times he let me coif his wet hair in the style of fictional actors.

in case I forget...

I want to state my gratitude now in case I forget this one little thing that made me so happy on the way to work. I was listening to music, driving the scenic way through the parkway where I sometimes see deer, when One came on- the version where Bono so wisely teamed up with Mary J. Blige. Yes it was a peaceful scene I was driving through, but I was sure the world could benefit from this song that made me so happy to sing so loud. So I drove out of the parkway and onto the main road and pulled up at a light. I was really into it- windows down, singing along, when the guy in front of me rolled down his window, craned his neck around to look at me and started singing along! (It was a black guy, about my age, which somehow lends added credibility)It was like a five second thing, and I tried to flash some sort of sign that communicated "hey! we're connecting!" but I think it looked more like a wave. I don't think it even mattered. We are not really so separate, are we.

yes, we are....

completely worthy of all the riches of the universe.

however, we are not perfect.

i just wrote my mom an angry email after she canceled our phone date and i really wanted to talk to her. i feel immature and whiny. my stomach has been in knots and it feels like little kids are jumping for joy and pulling apart the wish bone that is my heart. i feel wracked by guilt every time i think about leaving my old job and frozen with uncertainty when i think about going to the new place. i think i have a cut inside of my belly button, but there is no good way to find out.

and what makes it harder is that i am beating myself up about not being %100 happy and sure and light-hearted and hilarious and beautiful in a time such as this. what has also bothered me is that as soon as i told both of my parents, they got stressed out about the details of leaving instead of congratulating me on getting the job that i wanted. and that made me feel like it's just my nature to be worried instead of happy. why am i not happy all the time? why couldn't i just role with the punches more? cue more self-flagellation.

i'm stressed out and throwing my hands up in the air, saying "why, why now?" and what happened to me has been a good thing with bad timing. it's definitely a growing, learning how to be more selfish, learning how to ask for what i want and need, learning how to let go of guilt. i actually called my dad back last night because i felt guilty about not taking his advice. i'm considering writing my mom back right now to apologize.

it's so hard for me to know that people aren't happy with me.

a similiar situation happened in peru that after my first year, my pc boss offered to let me switch sites after the work was not working out after a year in the first one. i thought about it A LOT (everything is so in my head these days, but why not when my heart is such a tumultuous place). i finally decided not to go, mostly because of my host family and not wanting to go through readjustment to a new town, but i still left peace corps feeling like i hadn't done the work i wanted to do.

and now the choice is being presented again. do i go with what is more comfortable and makes people i love (or at least have learned how to work next to and that have been nice to me) happy or take a risk that could end in disaster?

i'm taking the risk, oh yeah i am, but that doesn't mean it has to feel easy. ah, but even writing about it feels so much better.

i need to jump in the shower, but regarding the training, i don't know if the timing is right for me on this one. i need to be here right now and figuring out this crazy job situation. also, the money. i'm in the process of paying off my computer and my moving expenses and i dont think it would be wise for me to travel again until i do.

i am still very committed to us working with teenage girls and i believe it will happen. actually a great thing about this job is that i will be learning to write grants, which i think will be sooo helpful in any kind of project we undertake. i think you should go to the training and see if you think it would be helpful. i also dont want to rule out other options of developing a curriculum from other philosophies, mainly the garper one.

more soon...

five things.

my brain doesnt seem to be working so well these nights. five simple things right now and more coherent thoughts in the morning.

1. i am grateful for change and that i know the universe is taking me somewhere.
2. i am grateful that i know i am doing the best i can in every moment.
3. i am grateful for comfortable jeans after work.
4. i am grateful that i ate peruvian food for dinner and that the people in the restaurant were from ancash and i felt transported.
5. i am grateful for my morning on the train and crocheting while listening to "graceland."

worthiness

So I figure that we need $1500 between the two of us to go to the training in KCMO. I really like the idea of going while I still feel the momentum of the symposium moving me, but $1500 is still alot of money. Not a huge amount, but one worth pausing to think about. Did you read the scholarship document? I was all set to fill out a form and wait for the money to arrive, at least some helpful amount if not all of it. I don't think they drafted the document to read like a guilt trip, but it did effectively make me stop and think: am I really in a position of needing money? $750, my portion, is alot of money but do I have access to it if I needed it? Even though I am hesitant to choose it, I do have the option of putting the whole thing on a credit card (and earn more miles!) I think about the people from that U of Chicago study who believe they only have one person in their life to turn to when they are in need. I am not one of those people, I'm lucky to have a life filled with many people that love and support me. I can think of at least 5 people whom I could call in the middle of the night, a good feeling. So from what perspective am I a person in need of a scholarship? There are lots of people in the world worse off than me at this moment. But are they going to enroll in the training program to facilitate Awakening The Dreamer symposia (I just looked it up) It is a question of worthiness; do believe that I'm worthy of receiving the funds necessary? Am I worthy? Is our idea for a young women's empowerment workshop worthy? (I don't think I like the term "young women" What else can we call them?) What do you want it to look like? Is it something you are excited about? How invested are we?
Money is just a tool.

i'm annoyed

i'm annoyed that my mom isnt on skype and i really want to talk to her.

i'm annoyed that both molly and i dropped the burning charcoals from the hauka on the floor, leaving scorched black parts. i'm annoyed that she wanted to go to bed early and didn't do the dishes while i cooked dinner.

i'm annoyed that i got the perfect job offer at the exact moment that i was starting to relax in my other job and that its going to be another transition.

i'm annoyed that my dad didn't say congratulations first thing.

i'm annoyed that i'm so tired and grouchy.

i'm also so grateful and excited to be given this perfect, perfect job opportunity with an organization that i love (more on this soon). i am grateful that i have beautiful family and friends to share it with. i'm grateful that my mom and i are doing the service day together. i'm grateful that i am close enough with molly that we finally had our first fight. i'm grateful that i can laugh at myself when i get angry and that i am starting to understand the universe so well, even if i choose to be a crab some nights when i'm just too overwhelmed to think straight.

the training...so much change right now, but it may fit in there. when do we have to sign up by?

Funds raiser

Facilitator training, May 29th-June 1st:
The training is $250
Room and board is $200
Flights will likely cost around $200

What can we do/make to raise funds for this adventure?

If you can't meditate with 5th graders, you can't meditate

I asked my class of fifth graders to take a picture of their favorite teacher last week. This morning I asked them to draw their favorite teacher, from the photograph, upside down. It's an exercise Betty Edwards recommends in Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain, helps to turn down the impulses of the left brain for categorizing and judging and favor the right brain's spatial expertise. I know what I asked them to do was challenging, it's hard for me too. Then I asked them to be silent (also not always easy for me). The silence bit was very hit and miss for the first class, mostly good for the second. I remember seeing a guy on tv lording over his qi gong class once, not creating a calm safe space at all but getting agitated with students that weren't doing it his way. His face popped into my head during my first class and I'm glad it did because I was close to wringing their little necks. You're drawings are really coming along, now shut up! It was as if they were physically incapable of allowing eachother to work without constant judgement. "Oh my gawd, that looks so weird!" They're battling so many things right now, I must remember compassion: being 12 yrs old, the weather getting more and more beautiful, elementary school almost over, being 12yrs old... I remembered talking about girls this age during the Awakening The Dreamer workshop and saying how we've really got to reach those girls and awaken them to their immense creative potential. So why not start with the girls in front of me? Because they can really get under my skin, damnit. I hate, hate, hate jokes at my expense- in middle school it made me feel uncool, now it makes me feel old (same thing I guess). And I get it, they're trying any way they can to make sure they're the cool ones, that they are OK in the eyes of those judging them, but it still gets under my skin. I lectured them about respect at the end of class, tried to tie it in with Earth day and how we have to share to planet, and that it begins with respect. If I'm honest, part of it was to reassert my control in class, but I did try to approach it from a global community perspective and try to make the point that we all want to be treated with respect and we're all capable of giving it. So I don't think they saw me boiling under the surface. We'll both try again next week.
Happy Earth Day

a few early ideas.

waking up early, i want to keep sleeping. it's gotten cold in the night and i wake up shivering, feeling the rain through the open window, wondering how long the rainstorms are going to last. i know that i need to do something creative. sometimes i think that it doesn't really matter what. i used to write each morning--a half hour of broken tales and thoughts spewed onto a page. i wrote each morning when i was losing him. one half hour of brokeness and red hot anger, words words and oftentimes tears. it was deepest part of my hard time and i thought it would never go away... now it's over year later and i sometimes go a whole week without crying :)

i've also been meditating...i like the quiet rhythm that it sets for my day, but i've been falling asleep early in the morning when i try to pay attention to my breath. i still haven't written about my ten days in snowy illinois farmland.

these days it's making something. putting down a few lines. i've been working on a pachamama tribute with my rubber stamps. last night i made an elaborate tortilla pie with the tortillas we bought with alex at "best way" and it felt inspired. then jimmy and i ran around like little kids throwing our bags of leaves and sticks into the dumpster illegally....mine got stuck on the barbed wire fence and we had to knock it down with the bed frame.

chitchatting with my friend mia who is in for the night...

been thinking a lot about generosity and service lately....

you don't have to if you don't want to

So many things in our lives are tenuous. I have always felt that marriage is a particularly tenuous predicament, but really all relationships are: both people have to want it. No amount of really, really wanting can overcome the other person's not. My friend wrote to me today to tell me she called a divorce attorney. Her husband has been away for a week and in that time she has discovered that a problem she thought had been solved between them has really just been hidden out of her view. I asked her how she was doing and she said, "oh, I know that this is just another fucking growth opportunity..." I told her I felt compelled to make her a bumper sticker, that that was so well put, but instead I made her a mix CD. I thought of as many songs to sing loudly as I could and put them on the Oh Good, Another Fucking Growth Opportunity album. I told Jim what I was doing and he really got into it so there may be a volume two. I am holding her in my heart this week, this one will be particularly difficult, and I wish I could do more.
I know I told you that I was asked to be on the board at church. When I was telling you about it I was feeling pretty ambivalent. I went to church yesterday. Before I went to church I drew another Sacred Spirit card: Drum. It was all about finding your own rhythm and alligning with the rhythm of the earth. The first person I saw at church told me not to forget to pick up the nametags kit in the office so I could make those nametags I volunteered to make. And Hello to you too.
I went in and sat down. Immediately after I sat the music director came in, said hello as she set her car keys on the sheet music stand and began leading us in "Let There Be Unity", her purse still on her shoulder. So many parts of that are not what I had in mind. I felt like shaking my hands in panic, this isn't in step with my rhythm! She then followed it up with "Count Your Blessings", another saccharin hymn I am now solidly against. You are not alone in your adventure-planning. You'll find the lesson of the day coincidental: Commitment. The truth is that these things I was expecting weren't fully in place when I left. The music director always comes in late. Usually I come in late-ish. The sound guy never rehearses with the musicians beforehand so the cue for the solo is almost always awkward. The minister always reads the lesson like a prepared statement. There are usually 30-45 people on Sunday. I said I didn't want to be at church where I would be getting in on the ground floor and yet here I am. And now they want me to be on the board. And I said yes, but now I don't want to. And I'm looking for a way to justify it, but as in all relationships, whether it's right or wrong, it's enough to just not want to anymore. But it makes me feel like a flake. I hate the thought that I might be a flake. During the greeting part of the service, a woman who's prayer chaplain with me made a point of coming up to me and telling me how glad she is that I'll be joining the board, that I'll be so valuable to them. I felt suffocated, it was all I could do to resist pulling my hands out of her grip. What is wrong with me? Being on the board is an honor, and I might actually be able to influence positive change. And if I don't join, who will? Will it just go on being the same, tired people?
The dog needs a walk, I haven't figured out what to do about dinner and I should really go grocery shopping tonight. Ah, distractions.
Gotta close with some gratitude, for balance:
Thank you, Gracy, for inspiring me and reminding me to just take small steps and to enjoy them.
Thank you, sun, for filling my classroom with so much light this morning that I didn't even have to turn on the lights.
Thank you, Dansko and Goldi's for my new shoes that are on their way! I'm so excited, I already plan to wear them out of the store when they arrive.
Thank you, Jim, for listening to my dreams and for resisting the urge to point out the potential pitfalls. And for apologizing when you know you did. Apologizing is big.
Thank you, Hershey's Kissables, you were just what I was looking for.

i love it, i love it.

i love your work harper! the bird picture and bird box are amazing. i'm really so honored to be sharing creative inspiration with you. the bird collage is so appropriate for earth day.

i am grateful for an earth day filled with thunderstorms, taking me hostage in the house to clean, cook, to dance naked with my roommates, to make art, to post on this lovely blog, to organize my thoughts, to drink bloody marys, to listen to otis redding and gogo.

i'm grateful for the 55% off coupon at the art store and so many fun new art supplies: watercolor pencils and an easel and acrylics.

i'm grateful for a happy family dinner. i made cheese and mint manicotti from the "america's test kitchen" cookbook and of course it was grand. such a filling salad too. having liz there took the edge off the tension we usually have and we even laughed a few times.

i am grateful that i could admit that i didn't have a good time last night and that although i love emily, i don't love hanging out with her friends, and that's okay. i dont have to love everybody and they don't have to love me. i have an overflowing amount of good friends and family in my life. i am enough. i have enough. i do enough. hmmm....snapsnapsnap.

i'm grateful to drift off to sleep with the rain tap tapping on the roof of my tower, radiohead in my ears. i love weekends.

love you harper.

redeux

Did I overdo it? The glue will dry so it's just a subtle texture. I loved the origami print, but I put it all around and it looked too sweet. I did want to balance the scarlet paint looking blood-like though...
I have to say, I am pretty glad to see something even sort of edgy in my work. I have been criticized before for not having any dark side.

This is one I reworked today. It was two separate pieces that I hadn't finished for a long while, thinking they'd turn into something. I find that it's easy to get things to the decorative point, but it takes a whole lot more finesse to get things to a meaningful point. I overthink my work too, I know that. But without spending too much time beating myself up, I am quite happy with this piece.

bird box

I started making this with my 5th grade class and hadn't finished it. The assignment was to make a self portrait box that reflects who you are on the outside and inside. When I was flying back from DC, I made some drawings of the landscape out the window. I found this aerial photo in a magazine when I got home, my missing piece.

homework.

observe people over the next few days. choose two or three interesting characters from different situations. write a fictional dialogue/scene between them involving the mention of grandparents.

stream of consciousness.

wander.

after 9 a.m. walk on saturday morning. i promised myself and the universe that i would be open to whatever came up on this harper-perscribed walk and i think i was thinking about adventure when i said that, which is such a metaphor for my life these days. i vow to stay open to new things but iw ant these things to feel good nd affirm me and come easily and stay until i dimiss them and not a second sooner. so when my pretty walk was met with a man licking his lips and telling me that i looked nice and broken glass on the kids playground and dog poop and traffic, i started to get upset. i look around for a place to sit and they are all people's front stoops, all in the sun. there is a space in between two row houses, long and straight like a house lived there and then just up and moved to alabama or chicago, leaving a field of dandelion greens behind the wire fence. in hte middle of it it a cat crouches and i think of the luxury of wandering animals and big, shadowing trees and how far away all of that seems. until i find the community church, right next to "all souls house of prayer," next to the latino men building the house, and in the back of there is a childrens mural and picnic tables in the shade. i feel too tender for this world sometimes--maybe that is waht growing up in the suburbs can do to a person. but but...i am feeling this, i am feeling a tugging loneliness and a hard time saying "no" to people and fighting feelings of jealousy. i just spoke to rosemary who told me there is a community activism group and after-school program for kids that meets here. it's only a few blocks from my house and i wouldn't have known if i t weren't for coveting their sahde. she tolde me she was going for her walk to connect with her spiritual side and i said, "that's exactly what i am doing!' the need for service is so strong in me right now but i dont know where, why, how, for what, and i feel like a silly white girl still trying to get a grip on her own issues and then thinking she can help otehr people. i'll admit it that i'm still fragile from yesterday, i'd be super human if i wasn't and the whole point right now is that I AM NOT SUPERHUMAN!!!!! i cant figure out a stronger way to say that.

quiet.

i just noticed a the quiet raining down of seed pods from the tree i dont know how to identify. soft seed pods. it's a lot of time and a little, all in one.

The Story of Stuff

I think I may have talked a colleague into making the school theme next year "sustainability". Wendy is the Gym teacher (Phy Ed...) and she was telling me about this all-school collaborative project they try to do each year. I think she didn't want to scare me so she didn't bring it up this year. She didn't know how she could incorporate that theme in the gym and I suggested teaching them games created by indigenous peoples. LaCrosse is a Native American game, there must be more. I love the idea of teaching the students these games from far off lands only to discover that they already play those games, "but that game is called soccer!" Ethel Tuveson's gym class. I am still so taken by Julia Butterfly Hill's thoughts about Away being this place where all the things we no longer want go to rest. I picture it being something like the land of the Misfit Toys only more Tim Burton-esque ( I love that guy). Really, there can't be anything special about the land of Away- just heaps of stale stink preserved in PVC plastic, but I like the idea of teaching my students that there is still life in that stuff we toss without thinking. And what if it came back to life??
I have decided that I want to start composting. I talked to my friend, Kelcey, last night, who is my partner in environmental/creative endeavors around here. I asked her if she knew where I could find a good countertop composting bin and she suggested an ice cream container. Here I was thinking about the Crate and Barrel one... solving a problem with new stuff again. I have lots of ice cream in the freezer right now, I'd practically be eating it for a good cause! I have some research to do, though, to figure out how to make compost and not a buffet for critters. It makes me so excited to think about how happy my plants will be with me!
Jim and I drew Sacred Spirit cards this morning, inspired by your Goddess cards. Mine was a Cradleboard, the ability to respond. It didn't resonate with me until I read the meaning: the part that sticks with me is that the papoose we carry on our backs (on the cradleboard) is our future. My ability to respond, then, speaks to making conscious choices about my future, for my future. It was startling how similar the concept was to what I wrote the other day about wanting to make conscious choices for myself and, someday, my kids; to be able to say we live this way on purpose. So I guess I have to move to DC then! I'm only halfway kidding. I haven't ruled it out. There are so many factors to think about, Jim and I will have to have a family meeting.
I am going out tonight with another dear friend, who is having major marital problems. She just shared this with me tonight, says she wants to crawl into a hole. I suggested we go for a long walk along the lakefront instead and end up somewhere for dinner. I had a great day today, but after I talked to her I felt like I had an upset stomach. Help me, Universe, to use my energy as a positive antidote instead absorbing negativity. I can't help anyone by taking away their pain, but I can help them to move through it.

soaked to the bones.

i am grateful for bikram yoga (read: yoga done in a sauna) because for an hour and a half i couldn't be anywhere but there, absolutely there in all my sweat and glory and i still feel a lightness in my bones and an inability to travel anywhere else in time.

i am grateful for a lunch with my father when i had my own "i can choose to see this differently" moment. instead of judging him and feeling upset that he can't listen more or understand me more, i just ate my soup and talked about american idol and felt like okay, even though i didn't get everything that i wanted as a child from him, i am old enough to make the choice to love him and our relationship for what it is. my issues with my dad are so layered, and so key in my relationships with everyone, especially men. while i've been thinking so much lately about why i feel the way i do and evaluating what i saw growing up, it's really no wonder that i haven't attracted any men lately. i'm very okay with being single right now...it's just that sometimes i get scared that i am never going to meet anyone and there are always those societal pressures to find a good guy and settle down. but anyway... later my dad and i ate ice cream and wandered through stores. it was solid.

i am grateful that i felt creatively challenged at work today and left it all behind when i walked out the door.

i am grateful for the yoga pants molly left on my bed.

i am grateful for my big fledgedling collage that still needs work. making it is such a stream of consciousness as well. i'm going on my walk tomorrow after work to celebrate a week that went by so fast.

wish me luck with my practice presentation in front of the big boss guy tomorrow. he's super crotchedly....maybe a little like Mr. t in a suit.

I am not in control

I was really dreading Thursday. It is my busiest day of the week with very little time between classes to prepare: Kindergarten, then a combined class of 3rd,4th and 5th graders, then 3rd graders, 1 hour lunch/prep, then 1st graders and finally another class Kindergarten. Driving to school it dawned on me that, while the facts of Thursday are inevitable, I can change my mind about the day. My time in the car can be as helpful as my time in the shower sometimes, it really depends on the music. A little Junior Senior can really help to see things in a happier light. It's funny how I still see the idea of changing my mind as a real form of alchemy, I have seen it work so many times but I'm always surprised. "I'll show up and do my best if you can just help me to make this a great day" The kindergarteners were a little squirrely, but all my classes made great work today.
Quick aside: In the K classes today they were pretending to make stained glass, so I found some images online of stained glass and how it is made. One of the pictures was of a Mr. T stained glass panel. I put it in because it was a good example of a portrait but mostly because it made me laugh. I left it up during class, at which time the principal walked though with a family touring the school. As they left I heard the parent asking "is that Mr. T on the board?" Totally made my day.
I changed my mind about how to approach today but I still say that I am not in control. It was an act of giving up control. I like your description of living like a clenched fist, that's how I have felt most days this year. I do it even though know it is out of character for me. I work so hard to hold on to all the pieces, to maintain order all the time, to be completely in control so there are no surprises, which is exhausting but is the only way I think I can measure up. What am I measuring up to? My own idea of perfection, with bits I've borrowed from others. This morning I tried taking a deep breath and saying, it's possible that there is a better way than the one I've been trying. It worked. I found myself laughing more today.
Last weekend as I was flying into BWI the turbulence was really bad- as bad as I've ever experienced while flying alone (the other time it was this bad, my brother actually turned to me and started saying his goodbyes.) I found that distracting myself with Kimya Dawson music only worked to a limited extent and so at some point I found myself saying "I am not in charge here. There is a force larger than me at work. " I found that so immensely comforting, but I know it sounds very 12-stepy or fundamental Christian-y. I think I get why it so comforting though; my ego was finally willing to let go. Even though I am scared, I am not in charge of this huge plane hundreds of miles into the sky. I suppose I could look at my classroom as a big airliner too. There are so many dynamics of a class for which I am not in control, the best I can do is show up ready.
I made a collage today. I haven't been feeling very confident in my abilities to come up with a visual representation of a stream of consciousness. It actually made me feel quite nervous, which is what the idea of making my own work has felt like lately. During my class of 3,4, and 5s we were looking through magazines to find materials for a self portrait collage. I flipped to a page which had been cut from earlier and now blended with the image behind it in this amazing way. I pulled both of them out and glued them together, then sat it on my desk. As we cleaned up later in the day I found an isolated pair of arms folded together, which fit perfectly in my accidental collage. The trouble now is that I can't decide if it's done yet. That's been my problem with students' work too. I'll scan it, tell me what you think?
When I made my treasure map a few weeks ago I cut out words that read "Om Mitraya Namaha", which is supposed to invite friendship. I am more pleased that I could have imagined to be drawing your friendship to me again, Gracy.

malled.

gratefilled:

i am grateful for pleasant shopping where i oddly didn't feel like i was spending money. i've decided to only buy things from the body shop, from independent businesses or on sale at marshalls. to splurge i bought myself some sweet jasmine perfume from the body shop and the sales girls made me feel like i had joined a special club when they gave me my discount card. i also found the most comfortable, dressy work shoes.

i am grateful that my presentation went well today. after yesterday i was dreading it so much, so much more than i should have, to the point where i was unsure if i could do it. everyone was telling me i could do it and i didn't believe them fully. and then i stood up today and had a steady voice and i laughed and was energetic. energetic was the word i woke up thinking about.

i am grateful that in the midst of meditating this morning, my soul told me to open my eyes and get out the odd pieces of paper i have been saving and make a college. twenty minutes later i had some interesting bones laid down and my consciousness had changed. i'm excited to wake up tomorrow morning. i never thought i would want to do art at 6 a.m., but i think it may be the answer to too many other distractions throughout the day.

i am grateful for molly making me lunch and for generally just feeling better and my bed right now, my eyes are heavy and ready for sleep. i'm grateful to have seen you again harper and that it lit a creative spark within me that had gone out for a while. i'm excited to be accountable for all that i have been holding in that head space lately.

and i know that i could just be a passing fancy, but move to dc! this city does have its way of seducing people. it has a lot to offer, most of all it's international yet still really comfortable. selfishly, it'd be nice to have you closer and maybe a change would be good. or maybe it was just a good weekend. for the record though, the air still smelled warm and wet today and the cherry blossoms are hanging with intentional pink bursts above unassuming sidewalks. dc sings "do-wah, do-wah, do-wah" at all the passing commuters in their spring coats.

Thank you, Ira Glass

for my new mantra: it can take eight years, sometimes, to get really good at something.
Thank you, Jackie Wilson, for Higher and Higher. I sang it this morning, some of the time through tears and all of the time with the windows open.
Thank you, spring, for finally deciding to show up
Thank you, bulbs, for ignoring the directions on the package (to get into the ground last fall )and growing anyway

I told Jim that I thought we should move to DC, and he didn't say no. What you have to know about Jim is that he usually says no first. I have learned not to get upset about it, he usually doesn't mean it or at least he usually changes his mind. As they say in education, he is slow to transition. I told my Mom that I think she should move to DC too and she didn't say no either. A while back Jim and I were really close to moving to North Carolina, but it turns out that it is beautiful and boring. I want to live where it is green! And NC is so lush, but when the time came to decide whether to go or stay, we stayed in WI. It's the summers; they lull you into loving the midwest again and again. There isn't much in the midwest, besides the weather, for which to find fault and in the summer you just forget. But what about diversity? I miss diversity, something my neighborhood is lacking. My Mom always joked that my preschool class looked like the UN- William from Venezuela, Mario from Greece, Julie from Japan, Christian from Austria... In middle school my parents sent me to a lab school whose population equally represented each ethnicity in the city. Every year for Dr. King's birthday we had an all-school celebration with speakers from the community. That seems unreal, but it did happen. I want that for my kids. I would love to be able to tell my kids that we set out in search of the best place from which they could meet the rest of the world. Is that DC? I don't know, maybe I was looking at it through cherry-blossom pink glasses, but it smelled so good. It smelled like spending summers in Atlanta with my Grandma and Grandpa, like wet pine needles under foot. My Grandma is in DC at the moment, her memory resting in Arlington with her little 'nita. Washington DC holds many memories for the Harpers, maybe I felt that. When I heard a car radio playing Please Mr. Postman and I thought about my Mom and Julie getting ready for dances at the Naval Academy.
I can't believe I'm thinking of moving. I just got a great job, working among inspiring teachers, but I feel a nagging to be living on purpose.

a question of the head.

i am grateful for:

1. molly having vietnamese spring rolls and couscous waiting for me when i came home so tired (isn't it great that i always list something with food first?)
2. eating lunch with tiff by the fountain and talking about our grandparents with the sun and cold breeze upon us.
3. mike and katie's kind words when i was so tired and discouraged at the end of the day.
4. laughing at myself...an endless process.
5. be effortlessly on time this morning.
6. having laurie (my boss) compliment my writing and asking me for input on something else she was working on.
7. mexican sweet chili tea
8. getting this blog to work....

i'm very excited about the walk. i think i'm going to go tomorrow after work and explore a (hopefully) warm beginning of spring day.

ah, such a day, full of things both big and petty. i've been thinking a lot about living from my head, as opposed to my heart. it goes back to what i was telling you about trying to live my life like a clenched fist, that i hate doing something that i don't automatically shine at. in short, i'm a perfectionist and it's starting to get really old. i so much want to live from my heart, trusting and dusting myself off and falling from one adventure to the next. instead i was so stressed out after another practice presentation falling flat that i could barely relax for yoga class. what do i do to lighten up? the answer is nothing but it does not jive with so much of how i have always lived. it could mean some big changes that i can't work on....i just have to relax. during corpse pose at the end of class, i suddenly remembered a few times when i have been completely free and it gave me a lot of comfort to remember that a laughing, smiling, powerful woman exists within me and just because i haven't hung out with her so consistently in a while doesn't mean she isn't guiding me along this path.

goodnight soul sista. i hope you enjoyed your cheese curds.

cheesy gratitude

tonight, exhausted and in a clean room, i am grateful for:

* a simple dinner of tortillas with avocado and cheese with liz.
* the great and oh-so-real female cops who bought my blackened tuna caesar salad at the local seaside restaurant.
*that even though my presentation was still not great, this time my voice didn't shake when i got up to speak in front of the group.
*the email from harper that seemed like it had a lesson within it.
*the moment in whole foods when through my tired eyes and bustling about, i looked up and knew everything was perfect about the moment.
*understanding the afternoon bad mood to be exactly what it is: a passing storm.
*having a real job and not worrying about money.
*patience with myself and the time i take to understand that nothing about me needs to change....except the idea i have that something about me needs to change. i'm a pretty unique duck of a gal and i know it all has its time and reasons.

assignment for the week of 04-14-07: create a visual representation of a stream of consciousness you have during this week.