My name it means nothing; my fortune is less

It usually takes me one entire day spent all alone in my apartment to realize I was missing.

It usually takes one more entire day spent all alone in my apartment to get myself back.

This is day three.

I wish I had another....

"I lived in solitude in the country and noticed how the monotony of a quiet life stimulates the creative mind” ~Albert Einstein

“Solitude is such a potential thing. We hear voices in solitude we never hear in the hurry and turmoil of life; we receive counsels and comforts, we get under no other condition . . .” ~Amelia E. Barr

“What a lovely surprise to finally discover how unlonely being alone can be.” ~Ellen Burstyn

“I feel the same way about solitude as some people feel about the blessing of the church. It's the light of grace for me. I never close my door behind me without the awareness that I am carrying out an act of mercy toward myself.” ~Peter Hoeg

“Solitude is strength; to depend on the presence of the crowd is weakness. The man who needs a mob to nerve him is much more alone than he imagines.” ~Paul Brunton

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. ~Henry David Thoreau

When the superficial wearies me, it wearies me so much that I need an abyss in order to rest. ~Antonio Porchia, Voces, 1943

We live in a very tense society. We are pulled apart... and we all need to learn how to pull ourselves together.... I think that at least part of the answer lies in solitude. ~Helen Hayes

It is only when we silent the blaring sounds of our daily existence that we can finally hear the whispers of truth that life reveals to us, as it stands knocking on the doorsteps of our hearts. ~K.T. Jong

Only in quiet waters do things mirror themselves undistorted. Only in a quiet mind is adequate perception of the world. ~Hans Margolius

True silence is the rest of the mind, and is to the spirit what sleep is to the body, nourishment and refreshment. ~William Penn

No man should go through life without once experiencing healthy, even bored solitude in the wilderness, finding himself depending solely on himself and thereby learning his true and hidden strength. ~Jack Kerouac

Just keeps getting....better...and better...and better....

September 15, 2009

11:36pm

I find myself in my bed...staring at nothing...wide awake. I was at the school for 15 hours today. I left, exhausted, leaving everything exactly where it was, knowing I would be coming in early in the morning to organize it all for the day, and then most definitely stay after school to attempt to catch up a bit. I can’t tell if I’m overstimulated right now, energized and inspired, or if I’ve completely lost my mind laying here in the dark singing Billy Joel songs, almost at the top of my lungs, and then laughing...out loud....maybe it’s a little bit of all three of those things.

I go through, in my mind, the little things that I always seem to forget about during the day that need to be done to keep me moving forward. I, then, make a list on a blank sheet of paper near my bed...and then add it to the pile of lists in my bag, waiting for my attention...because I never actually get to anything on the lists. Seems Miss Cartwright always wants to bite off more than she can chew, and then lays in the dark, in the middle of the night, wide awake, singing Billy Joel songs because, frankly, she doesn’t really know what else to do.

Apparently, she has also begun referring to herself in the third person.

You know what? I’m gonna do this...I’m gonna get through all of this...and I’m going to do it well....well, at least as well as I can, and hopefully better than I did before. That’s all you can do, right? Do the best you can, work hard, and try to improve. It’s going to take a lot of extra work, and a ton of extra discipline, but I’m willing to make the sacrifice if it means that the Theatre reputation at SASA keeps going up, and the students continue to grow and learn about not just theatre, but life in general. I love these kids. I really do. I want to do right by them, and give them the best education possible for me to be able to give them. I don’t want to even think that they would be short-changed simply because I decided to spend my time and energy on something else. My task is here and now. Every day is different. Every day I am met with new obstacles, new personalities, new drama, new standards, new circumstances, and new time constraints...that’s on top of all the old stuff that already existed. It’s crazy if I think about all of it at once...so I don’t. One step at a time. One class at a time. One day at a time. One lesson at a time....and sometimes, one conversation at a time. Sometimes the conversation I have with a student before the bell even rings, and they come in early because they just want to talk, is the most important thing I might do that day...so I better be willing to set down what I’m working on and listen...really listen. I can’t do it all the time or I would never get anything done. It’s so important to be able to gauge those situations as they come. It’s hard to do when half of your students are new. I’m just getting a feel for their personalities and preferences. I can feel that the class is still working on finding that common ground and understanding where they fit in the scheme of things. It’s an interesting dynamic to watch, really.

I can feel myself getting tired. I would like to think I can get some sort of rest considering my alarm will ring in roughly 5 hours. As long as I get at least 4 hours of sleep during the night, I’m usually pretty good. I have a couple of students coming in to work on audition stuff for Pit & Balcony after school, but then I can come home and crash for a couple of hours before heading back up to the school to work on play stuff for our fall show. Starting next week I won’t be able to do that anymore because we will begin rehearsals or set building every day after school through November. Yikes! Then I have auditions for the next show in December, and the Middle School play will be happening around the same time. We are planning on having a grand opening performance for the new auditorium and a performance for the musical theatre class, as well. Basically this is my last week to have any kind of free time after school. I should have scheduled doctor and dentist appointments this week, but I ran out of time. Now I have no idea when I’ll be able to get into the dentist or doctor because there is no time available on the weekdays. I have to find time...I need to take full advantage of having benefits for the first time in years...and years...and years. I’ll do it. I’ll figure it out and everything will work out. I said that 29 was about moving forward, and 30 is going to be about balance. I will find balance. Man, it just keeps getting better...my life.

I am blessed.

Pity Party for One Plea- um...Nevermind :)

September 7, 2009 4am

I have been sitting here wide awake for the past hour. I should have grabbed my computer and started writing as soon as I knew I was wide awake, but I felt like I was too tired to actually do anything but lie here in submission as my mind wandered. I did have the chance, however, to allow my thoughts to revolve around enough in my head to come up with tangible solutions and conclusions.

I found myself thinking about the theatre department at SVSU. I went around and around with different things in my head concerning the department, and then I realized I couldn’t control any of the things that I was allowing to rule my thoughts. Also, a lot of those things do not even affect me anymore, so why do I care? Why do we spend so much time thinking and wondering, or perhaps even worrying, about things we cannot even control? I wonder if it’s easier to think about those things because it is not in our scope of responsibility to act on those thoughts, due to the fact that we cannot control it. If I had been thinking about something I could control, or should, such as my own theatre classroom and/or plays, then I would be compelled to actively do something about it.

I had gone around and around in my head, and then I just stopped. I wanted to know why it all was so important to me. Why was I concerning myself with things that no longer concerned me? I realize now it began before I graduated. I think “Sideman” auditions put it all into perspective, but in a way that caused me to become almost desperate to perform again. Then ACTF was such an exhausting week, but rewarding and well worth the ride. I took my class to watch “Gooney Bird” and found myself appalled at my own colleagues and friends. Then “Camelot” came, eh, and soon I found myself sitting in the audience more times than I was standing on the stage, and it began to eat away at me a bit. I decided to audition again, and I knew “Gin Game” would be the perfect show to sink my teeth into and challenge me in all the right ways. I had read the show a couple times last year and loved it. However, things really didn’t go my way with that one, and I found myself completely disappointed in the system, and in my own priorities. Then another great role came along with “Bug”, but I found myself disappointed again, and a little surprised that I didn’t even get a nod for the supporting role. Suddenly I became almost desperate to find a way to perform again. I didn’t feel like a whole person. Something big was missing, and it became more than just about performing. The door was being continually shut in my face, and the more it happened, the more desperate I became. I believe it became the most apparent, to me, during the “Great Books” audition. Suddenly it wasn’t about performing at all, but more about being chosen. It affected my audition, it affected my teaching, and it affected the way I felt about myself. Nothing should have that much control over a person. So maybe it was all a blessing in disguise. The hardest part was when people would come up to me so often, privately, and tell me that they thought I should’ve had each of those parts. It happened with every single one of those shows. It made me feel good to hear people say that, but it also began to hurt a little, too. If so many people thought I should be chosen, then why wasn’t I chosen? Were they just saying it to be nice? Was I being narcissistic in thinking I should be chosen? Are the director’s playing favorites? Was the person who was chosen just better? Was me not getting the part actually saving me from making a poor choice given my circumstances at the time? Am I just making excuses to make myself feel better?

I got over it, all of it, and chalked it up to another one of life’s lessons. It all happened for a reason, and I am a better person because of it. I hope. I find myself going that direction in my mind again this morning, though. I imagine people probably think it’s time for me to let go, especially since I have graduated. I completely agree. However, I am committed to being in this area for another year, at least, and SVSU is the only place around here that has shows in the summer. If I like to perform, why shouldn’t I audition for shows? I understand it’s educational theatre and the people who are active theatre majors should get priority, but I am an active theatre education major. Why is that different? I understand it is different. I feel different. With all that happened in the past six months, I realize I do not desire to be part of it anymore. I found myself, lately, desiring for somebody to choose me for their partner for ACTF this year. Last year was such a big year for me, especially at ACTF, why would I need to keep going? I wonder if it’s becoming more about being chosen again. The more I realize people aren’t even considering me as an option the more desperate I have become. Man, that is just sad. It’s cool...I know it’s sad, I can say it. Maybe now I understand a little bit why an athlete doesn’t retire at the height of their glory, but rather stays a little too long, in some people’s view, because they love the game. Why should they retire? They. love. the. game. Let them play...who cares.

You would think getting the door slammed in my face this many times in a row would deter me from performing, especially since I have so much going on with teaching and directing and everything else. I wish. I think it would be easier if it had...but here I am awake in the middle of the night the day before school is slated to begin, and I’m not even thinking about school. I realize that I have been cast off by my own department, and I understand it, to a point. I am not going to continue to try that avenue if I know the door has been closed. It would be silly to keep fighting for something I’m not so sure I want anyway. It’s time to branch out and see what I’m really made of, what I can really do without the safety net of the department. I know that means it might be a little bit before I get to perform again, but that just means I use this time in between to prepare for the challenge. I refuse to go out there unprepared. I’m glad it’s in my hands now to figure out what I need and to go out and get it. I guess it has always been in my hands, but I was so busy trying to be chosen for the things that were happening now, that I kind of forgot to prepare for the things that I wanted to happen later.

Well, after this crazy roller coaster ride through my thought process, it looks like I have twenty four hours to come up with a syllabus, classroom rules and expectations, audition schedule, and lesson plans for the week. Time has run out...it’s time to get some coffee and get to work :)

lacrimosa in lansing

8-23-08 east lansing 1:15am

i am so annoyed, and trying not to be, but it’s just festering inside of me. i wish i could sulk my way into whatever i wanted. you would think after so long you would start to act like a grown-up...maybe it’s me who needs to grow up. walking out of the room while rolling my eyes to let people know i’m annoyed is not a grown-up thing to do...

i need to re-direct my energy right now. they say “your present focus determines your present feelings”. i need to red-direct my focus...

i had a good weekend with the theatre festival. it makes me want to start a festival like this in saginaw. i really want to do this...

i have to follow through, though. it’s easy to say i’m annoyed at people that say they want a festival like this in saginaw, when i know they are just saying it in the moment to sound like they initiate things, but they really would not be willing to put any of the leg work into it. the truth is, though, i think i’m annoyed because that is actually an insecurity within myself. i’m afraid that i am all talk and not willing to do the hard stuff to see things through.

i find myself wanting to talk this over with someone, and that annoys me, too...i feel like there might be some understanding there, but i don’t think that’s necessarily true. my jealousy is insecurity, and nothing more.

i can’t believe sometimes the selfishness i see around me...but if i notice it so much, is that a sign that it’s time to reflect on the selfishness within me? the things i find so annoying in others...is it just something within myself that needs to be considered?

God, help me to be a better person. I want to be a better servant...a better giver...a better woman...a better friend. I want to be good. I don’t like feeling angry, annoyed, jealous, or cruel. I can’t even write...I erase it and start again...I just...I want to do the right thing. I want to be a good person. I want to glorify You, Lord....in word...but more in my actions...in my life. Your Grace and Mercy...Your goodness...that is what is important...help me to be more forgiving. I know that means You will probably put me in a position to have to forgive, but so be it. With You and Your Spirit within me, I can do all things, Lord...I am up to the challenge. Help me to work on me, and not be so concerned about what others say and do. Help me to listen for Your voice, and seek Your love in others, and give Your love to others, and concentration on nothing else...

Lord...I am blessed. Forgive me, Lord. Thank you for speaking directly to my heart in this moment and bringing me back to You. Nothing good happens without You. Thank you for all of the people in my life...every single one. I have learned so much, and yet I feel I have such a long way to go. Just when I think I’m making progress, I feel like I take two steps back.

Lord...help me to continue to move forward. Open my heart to Your possibilities. I want to work hard and give everything else to You. Whatever You have planned for me is much greater than anything I could come up with....make my dreams Your dreams, Lord. It hurts sometimes...but with You in it...I can’t lose. I love You, Lord. Forgive me...help me to forgive. You deserve more than me, Lord.

Mozart's Requiem-Lacrimosa (lyrics+translation)

insomnia blah

august 21, 2009 east lansing 3:16am

why do we always think that demeaning someone is funny? i do it just as much as everyone else...but why? do we get a little bit of satisfaction out of making someone look bad? is it insecurity on our part? are we trying too hard? are we not trying hard enough? i don’t know.

i’m in an apartment full of people and i feel completely alone. that is why i love to be alone. i don’t feel lonely when i’m alone. i often feel the loneliness when i am with other people. you would think after all this time, i would figure myself out enough to know why, but i don’t have a clue. sometimes i feel like they don’t know me...but that just sounds like teenage dramatics. maybe there’s a bit of truth to those teenage dramatics. maybe that’s why i can relate to teenagers so well. i believe them. i know what they’re feeling is real, no matter how foolish it sounds to the rest of us.

i want to be the best person i can be for the people in this apartment with me. i’m glad i have this time to myself, while they all sleep peacefully, to gather my thoughts and start over again. sometimes i need this time to gain perspective. i’m not perfect. i definitely make mistakes. i know my perspective can be off because it’s based on my emotions or ‘feelings’. instead of getting annoyed with them, and desiring to be alone, maybe it’s time to check into what i can do differently to make this situation better. there is always something i can do differently...better. i want to be better. i want to do the right thing. i can learn from this situation. i can learn something from each one of them. i desire to make them feel important...no matter what that means for me.

uh oh, the woe is me perspective is trying to creep in...what to do? do i write it out, so it’s out on paper, and i can see how ridiculous it all is in retrospect? do i squash it and not even allow it to completely form in my heart or mind? is it going to be there no matter what i decide to do with it? i don’t know what to do. what is the best option at this point? i want so badly to do the right thing. since it so often feels like i do the wrong thing, maybe it’s time to do the opposite of what i feel is right. i feel like i want to write it out and get it all on paper so it stops floating around my head. i will not do that...i will squash it before it has a chance to form. i think those thoughts are just an excuse for me to feel sorry for myself and to be annoyed or hurt by other people. i seem to be the most comfortable when i am in the pits and feeling sorry for myself. that is pathetic. it’s time to do something different. it’s time to move on in my mind and not even relish the thought of the woe is me attitude.

it’s time for me to close the computer and talk to God for a bit before, hopefully, going to sleep...it’s time for something different.

Girl 27

My palms are sweaty.  I sit here with sweaty palms.  I find myself a bit nervous...no...perhaps a bit...undefined?  Okay.  Undefined.  (Perhaps a bit unrefined, as well.)  Sometimes I love the beauty, angst, the flow of words.  And sometimes I feel they cheapen an experience or state of being, never quite being able to give proper credit to what is now.  That's why I think I love theatre so much.  It is a look, a voice, words, a picture.  It is raw.  Sometimes it's a facade...yet-you can still see what is underneath.  There's always an underneath.  You can never fully be who you are portraying...you are always somewhere underneath.  I don't think I've even come close to being.  I have acted, and I have reacted until it hurts.  I want to find someone until the underneath is blurred, and that person becomes part of the underneath forever.  I want to take the pieces and spread them out on the floor and begin to piece it together bit by bit.  I want to be a story, and not just tell it.  I suppose I don't want to ever fully be someone else's story, though.  It is not mine to be.  It belongs to someone else, doesn't it?  And I would want it to remain theirs...I would not want to cheapen their story because my ability can only take it so far. 

Who do I think I am?

Suddenly I feel very inadequate and selfish.  Who am I to think I should get on that stage and tell someone else's story?  I can't help it, though.  There's something within me that fights, stirs, does not rest...what do they call that?  Insatiable?  My insatiable appetite to be.  That sounds nice and dramatic. 

I am absurd.  Trouble is, I don't know how else to be.  No matter who I try to be, the underneath is always there.  The strangest part?  I like the underneath.  I like the raw, the ugly, the deep calm, joy at its truest form.  I like me at my truest form.  

I started this blog because I did not want my previous post to be the first thing someone saw if they chose to read my story.  When I find myself in a moment to write such babble as the previous post, it is just that, a moment, and then it's gone.  Such stuff.  People will draw their conclusions, I suppose.  Or, perhaps, people do not think about me as much as I would like to think they do.  We're all a bit too busy thinking about ourselves, yet we still manage to draw conclusions about others, don't we? 

I wish I were brave. 

I want to be brave.

You see?  A picnic planned today with old friends.  My heart and mind know there is some place I need to be, so they decide to trick me into contemplative melancholy.  A few years ago I might have succumbed and spent the day locked away in a tower of pretension...or perhaps I would just be still.   I am beginning to understand that sometimes (only sometimes) I would use those opportunities as an escape from the responsibilities of being social.  It is so much easier to sit in a tower than it is to plaster a smile on the ugly for a day, or have to constantly tell people that nothing is wrong...you just feel...content being calm.  Now, however, I have opened up enough to realize that I am not alone in the underneath...we all have it.  I can write for a piece, throw my hair into a ponytail, grab my flip flops, jump into my jeep, and use the ride over to find who I am today...no more plaster...the sticky-tape doesn't work well in the humidity anyway.  I choose to climb down from the tower and spend time today with people who bring me so much joy, and peace, and make me laugh until my face hurts.  

I never thought my story would have so many delightful encounters...   

    

Present-tense Inclination

Just write.

If you begin to type, it's amazing how the words begin to pour out...

or maybe not...maybe not this time...

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

I want someone to play with my hair

.

.

.

intertwine their fingers in mine

when they know I'm feeling insecure

.

just before I make my grand entrance

or perhaps 

.

just because

.

.

.

I want to talk about the shapes in the clouds

and straighten his tie

.

.

.

I want to sit on a bench in the garden

and read

.

pausing for a moment

to watch him mow the lawn

.

.

I want to feel safe

and loved

and..

.

.

I want old hands

and a young heart

.

.

.

.

I want to respectfully decline an offer to dance

with a handsome stranger

.

.

. 

because my heart is no longer my own

.

.

.

I want to close my eyes

.

and breathe

.

and wish again tomorrow...for something new.

I don't want to fall another moment into your...

I like to be alone.  I would love to say it's because I can then create and live, for a moment, in a different kind of reality that I have created just for me, but, I think it's more that the truth has a better opportunity to present itself to me when there is no one around to muck it up.  I'm not saying people muck things up for me.  I'm saying I tend to muck things up for me when people are around.  I don't know why. (I'm not trying to play the perpetual victim with that statement, or seeking affirmation.)  I don't need it right now, actually...affirmation.  I, also, don't have any desire to be a victim in this moment, either.  I desire...truth.

I heard it said once that if you're questioning your sanity then that means you're sane because insane people do not question their own sanity...uh-huh.  I don't believe myself to be insane.  I am human, and with that comes some pretty crazy shit.  The end.

I do, however, question my choices, sometimes.  I question how much I allow my emotions to drive the daily decisions I make.  I would love, at times, to be able to put my nose to the grindstone and do something I don't want to do to accomplish something I want in the long run.  What do they call that?  Discipline?  Ahh, self-discipline.  I feel like self-discipline has always played a cruel little trick on me my whole life.  Okay, maybe that's a little dramatic, but I feel like it taunts me, from somewhere just out of my reach, and the only reason I want it is because I can't have it.  Or maybe that's my lame excuse for not making the necessary changes to obtain it.  Maybe.  Maybe...it's a lot easier to sit here and whine about who I wish I was then it is to actually get off my butt and do something about it.  I like who I am more than I ever have before...but I must not become complacent and think that this is good enough.  Part of me thinks this is just fine, and knows I will grow and change with time and through experiences that are beyond my control...it's inevitable.  The other part of me thinks time is of the essence, and there's no time like the presence to get off my butt and get moving...even if I don't always know where I'm going, exactly.  Clean your room, do your homework, make some dinner, write a blog, take a shower, call your mother, pay your bills, go out and meet a nice man...why?  Why should I?  Because that's what everyone does...but why?  Why do you spend half the day thinking about what you should make or have for dinner?  Why do you go to a job and continually look for a better one?  Why do you make goals for a future you don't even know will happen?  How do you walk by people who are hurting and ignore them because you have things to do?  We all do it.  We all ignore people who might make us feel called to a different action than the one we are in the midst of in that moment.  Sometimes I wonder if I have the urge to drop what I'm doing and help because it might be easier than whatever I am responsible for in that moment.  As if helping is an escape for me rather than a necessity or intrusion.  It's easier to live poor because it weighs less.  Maybe that's what makes it right.  Maybe that's what makes it wrong.  Somewhere deep I know the answer...but it doesn't seem to stop me from asking questions.  

I have found myself in a different place in my mind than I thought I was when this writing began.  The desire for truth remains, however.  I do not want my emotions to guide me unless it is the truth...I have a sinking feeling that oftentimes I am deceived by my own feelings.  Ha.  The alone time allows me to separate it all out, and begin to piece it all back together in a way that makes more sense...well, to me, at least.  I know a lot of times people think I am...odd.  I'm sure I could throw a few more words in there, but for now, odd will work.  :)  I have tried to figure out what people wanted from me, and played the part as best I could.  I have also fought hard against it, and stuck out a metaphorical middle finger at the world through my actions, or inaction.  I have cared, and worked tirelessly to the point of exhaustion, and I have sat, detached, stubborn, and immobile.  I have woken up in the middle of the night, contemplating life.  I have gone through the motions, and I have slept soundly, knowing it all works out in the end.  Sometimes, I have gone through all of these things in the course of a single day.  Believe me, nobody knows better than me how...odd...I am.  I fight it...and embrace it...all the time.  

In the end, though...it's not really about me, is it?      

The Giver

I am sitting 

quietly

reading a book

glancing at the sky

as the clouds lighten with the rising of the sun

I find the constant murmur of the fan

mixed with the rain

comforting

Something is stirring within me

not discontentment

or discomfort

a gnawing agony

Or perhaps I'm just hungry

Secrets Don't Make Friends

i never know how to start these things.  

once i get writing, i can't really stop.  i rarely go back and edit or delete anything i have written, no matter how embarrassing, but i always sit in front of a blank screen for a while before i actually begin writing.  

sometimes, i am so out of the loop.  bob maul passed away two months ago, and i didn't even know he was sick.  i have been in old town and have stopped in the red eye a few times since he passed, and i still had no idea.  i noticed on myspace that the lawn chair film festival dedicated their season to him and thought that was odd, so i looked online and found an article about his passing.  i truly can't get a handle on how strange i feel about the whole situation.

i had so much swimming in my mind, and now it's just blank.  that happens all the time.  so many moments where i feel i need to write, and then i get in a position to be able to jot down a few things and my mind clears.

i have one more day of school...actually half a day.  my high school students are out for the summer.  my middle school students and i will be having fun in the morning, and then i need to finish packing and cleaning my classroom, finish tucking away and locking up everything in the auditorium, put in the last couple weeks of grades, figure out a supplies list and budget for next year, and turn in my keys.  it's all a little bittersweet, really.  however relieved i may be, i have a sense that there is a void.  i wonder if all the teachers feel this way at the end of the year.  it's probably because everything is so uncertain, my job, my summer, school, money, my future.  it's all kind of up in the air.  on wednesday i will wake up and literally have nothing to do.  well, that's not entirely true.  there is so much planning to do to get ready for next year, it's crazy really.  the theatre department at sasa is in shambles, and needs some serious revamping.  i'm excited to do it, but i have to stay on task to get it done in the next couple of months.  it's going to take some self-discipline to get to work when no one is on my case, or there's no deadline until august...not one of my strongest suits.  when i have the kids in front of me i know my job is to teach them, and have some fun in the process, while keeping everyone safe.  when they're not around i have the hardest time getting anything done.  

i think once my mind, and body, have a few days to rest, i'll be surprised how much clearer my thinking will be.  i also do better when the sun is out and the weather is warm.  i think i am more burnt out than even i could guess because of this crazy year.  

i was a bit...well, more than a bit disappointed when i didn't get a part in any of the shows i auditioned for, but now i realize it was a bit of a blessing in disguise.  i am free...unemployed, but free.  i tend to keep myself rather busy, and i can't believe i haven't committed myself to a million obligations this summer.  it was the hardest thing in the world to keep saying no, but i did it.  i actually said no...more than once, and to some pretty good opportunities.  however, they were opportunities that would have seriously wore me down, and i'm not sure how much more wearing i can take at this point.

i am just sitting here, staring out the window.  i know i should go for a walk, but all i really want to do is take a nap.  i should enter grades, or begin making a supplies list for next year.  i actually have no idea how i get through some of the administrative parts of being a teacher.  i truly don't have a clue what i'm doing.  you ever feel like you're a complete fraud, and any minute someone is going to figure it out and the veil will be lifted?  i feel like that all the time, with everything that i do.

that's my big secret.      

My Chicago

May 1, 2009

Somewhere on a highway outside of Chicago. 

I’m sitting on the charter bus with the students from SASA on our way back to Saginaw after a wonderful trip to Chicago. 

My favorite part of this trip was walking through downtown Chicago this morning as the sun was coming up and the city was beginning to wake up for the day.  The sun was coming up over the Lake, and the air was exceptionally clear for an early Chicago morning.  I enjoy watching all the people go through their daily morning routine, but I notice one thing.  There are a ton of people, but nobody is talking to anybody else.  Everyone is in their own little bubble, and nobody seems to mind.  I slowly burst the bubbles as I smile and wave at each passerby.  Some people take a second look as they walk away, almost pleasantly surprised or perhaps completely perplexed by the jaywalker with a  sunny disposition.  

egg whites and onions

a spoonful of sugar

clean streets

crisp sheets

class, sass, minimal grass

“a crow on lakeshore drive is unusual”

guess, express, forever 21

ferris wheel lit only by the rising of the sun

transplanted trees

hospitality that comes naturally

“we don’t open until 5” italian and a show

my Chicago

I could live in Chicago.  I could live anywhere and make the most of it, really.  It wasn’t always that way.  I moved around a lot.  It seemed every time I would stay in one place for very long I would begin to catch up with myself, and it wasn’t long before I would find a new place to roam.  What I slowly began to learn is wherever you go there you are.  Often it wasn’t the place that needed to change, it was me.  

There are a million thoughts circling the inner most parts of my mind.  The front part, however, that applies those thoughts, or at least puts them into a concrete location where they become tangible ideas, is completely relaxed.  I am inspired, somewhat rested, and content with sitting on the bus and doing nothing for the next four hours.  I’m sure I’ll feel differently about that in a couple of hours :)  

I do not want to write anymore.  I had some ideas and thoughts floating, but it seems they choose to stay where I cannot reach them for the time being.  I’m sure as I close up my computer and snuggle back into my seat, the thoughts will push to the front and swim around a bit more.  

walk on....

the shards of glass pierce my skin 

as i retrace my steps

i wince

but i do not cry

i am generally a crier

i am generally a lot of things

but today

today i do not cry

i put on my blue dress

the one with the criss-cross straps

and the single blue sash

i slide into my blue suede shoes

and i dance...

at the car wash...

i rest my head on my pillow, after finally giving up on trying to get grades in on time because the database we use has frozen completely, and a camper from this summer pops into my head.  i can't believe it.  i don't mind thinking of the campers from time to time.  it usually makes me sad, or makes me feel pretty lucky to have this able body and sound mind, and lucky to have the opportunity that i did this summer, working with the greatest people in the world.  

this particular camper was a middle-aged man in a wheelchair.  he had about 10% use of his legs, but he had full use of his arms and torso.  he was at the two-week long camp, and he was one of my favorites.  he loved the lake.  we would wheel him to the end of the dock, and lift him out of his chair and set him on the edge, take off his socks and shoes and let his feet dangle in the water. he loved sitting in that spot.  sometimes he would talk to the lifeguard standing near him on the dock.  sometimes that lifeguard was me.  it was difficult because we couldn't get too distracted...there were a lot of campers who liked to break the rules, or just didn't understand them.  this camper knew we still had a job to do and was very patient when we had to interrupt or ask him politely to let us observe without any distractions.  one day it was really slow on the water and he told me his story.

he was a young man when he had his accident.  he told me all about his firebird that he had...mint condition, all the bells and whistles.  it was a horrific accident, and he was lucky to be alive...he was driving too fast.  nothing was the same after the accident.  he was a factory worker, and took pride in working with his hands, but he had to leave his job.  he collected disability but never found anyone that would hire him.  all he wanted to do was work.

i remember when we had one of our fun workshop days, and one of the workshops i ran was a car wash.  we had a couple of hoses, some buckets and suds, and sponges and washcloths.  we pulled some of the staff vehicles onto the grass, including my jeep, and let the campers wash the cars.  they loved it!!  of course it became a huge water fight, which i will never forget...it was great!!  you should have seen the look on their faces...truly priceless.  we just laughed and screamed and soaked each other for an hour.  

this guy, though, didn't get into the water fight right away.  he couldn't wait to grab a sponge and a cloth and detail the outside of my jeep from top to bottom.  all he wanted to do was work. you should have seen the look on his face...truly priceless.  it moves me to tears just thinking about it.  you could tell he felt more joy in that moment than he had in a long time.  he felt like he had something to offer, and he was good at it.  he was reaching as far as he could from his chair to detail the tires, the windows, each nook and cranny.  i continued to compliment the work he did as he went, and he continued to work harder after each compliment.  he must have worked on my jeep for over an hour.  he joined the water fight for roughly five minutes, and then continued on to the next car and began the work again.  we let him stay out there and work on the cars for a couple of hours, but then it was time to clean up for dinner.

i'll never forget that day as long as i live.  

i don't know how i made it through this past summer.  i can't imagine being able to make it through another one.  the physical, mental, and emotional demands of that job were more than any other i've had before...and i've had some pretty demanding jobs.  i do know i will go back to the fowler center, even if it's just to help out for a couple of weeks.  they always seem to be short a few staff members.  there were a few campers during every camp that stole my heart.  i think i need to go back to find it again.

i wonder what's going on in that specific camper's life right now.  what are his days like?  did he ever find work?  what does he do to stay busy?  does he have people in his life who listen to him?  is he able to find things that bring him joy?  can he get around okay in all this snow, or does he stay cooped up all winter?  does he live alone?  

why do these things always enter my mind at midnight...when i have to wake up in five hours and be ready for a very busy day with the kids?  the truth is it's not just midnight when these campers enter my mind...it's all the time....when i'm driving, when i'm watching a movie, when i'm laughing with my friends, when i'm walking down the street...all the time.  i knew it would challenge me to work at the fowler center this summer.  i knew it would make me sad, but also cause me to think about things in a different way.  

i am different.  i was completely broken down this summer.  i find myself at a loss for words to describe what i feel when i think about the whole experience.  my heart aches, but seems to have a new understanding of the human condition at the same time.  i don't know.  it seems the more i understand, the more my heart breaks.  i think i just need some sleep.    

chalkboards and cheeseburgers

i keep telling myself that i need to begin writing about my adventures as a new teacher...imagining one day it will come together as that published novel that is on my ultimate to-do list that never quite gets written down but always seems to haunt me from some distant, untouchable area of my mind.  

the fact that i put that sub-conscious pressure on myself to be brilliant, insightful, and witty, shows me why i haven't written a word, even though i've been teaching for a solid eight weeks.  i do that all the time.  i want to be a good teacher.  i want to measure up to the miracle that God has laid before me...but that's why it's a miracle, right?  because i will never measure up to it, yet it's here just the same.  ah...pressure off.  (yes, it's often that easy for me...i just need a quick minute to jot down my thoughts and perspective creeps in and frees me from worry and strife over minor things that are often beyond my control.)

i think i have the instincts to be a good teacher.  when you are in theatre, or work with people, you begin to observe your surroundings, the way people behave compared to how they really feel, and the ripple effect that often determines a chain of events that end far from where the intentions of those involved began.  through those observations i have learned a lot.  i have seen what works, and often what does not, and i've seen things work out for many people taking very different paths to the same end.  it's all subjective.   

i often find myself thinking of writing a blog when i am confident, strong, and  happy.  i often find myself actually sitting down to write when i am feeling apprehensive, pensive, doubtful, and slightly melancholy.  the only reason i've found a pocket of time to write today is because my car is broken and the only other option is to clean, organize, or grade about a hundred papers for semester grades, or try to get out of the rut i find myself in with the middle school play that goes up in two weeks.  

i find myself wrestling today.  i can't figure out who my opponent is, and i recognize i'm secretly looking forward to the hand to hand combat.  i appreciate my relationship with God...He's not afraid to wrestle with me.  He's not afraid to show me exactly where i stand in the whole scheme of things.  He's not afraid to be who He is, no matter what I believe to be true about Him.  He's not afraid to stand before me in all His power and cry with me when i do not understand or, perhaps, begin to understand all too well.

why do i not write more often?  why do i allow the television, crappy food, fear, and mindless tasks to steal the best of me when times get tough?  it IS possible for me to organize my time and accomplish those things that will help me get closer to the person i want to be...it is the fear of knowing it is possible that often debilitates me.  it is not failure that i fear...it is accomplishment, acclamation, the after...the after of success...what comes next?  well...if i continue to allow mediocrity to define my effort, then i will never find out.  i get tired, often mentally and physically, to the point where i have sometimes closed my classroom door, shut off the light, and curled up with my coat on the floor behind my desk and closed my eyes, because i do not know what else to do.  

the more i succeed...the more i accomplish...the more awards i receive...the more uncomfortable i feel.  it's not a lack of understanding or appreciation...quite the opposite, in fact.  the older i get, and the closer i get to who i want to be...the less things i'm finding to complain about.  for some reason that also makes me uncomfortable.  you know, if i was reaching out to others and giving, like i should be, i do not think i would be so uncomfortable with the blessings God has bestowed upon me.  it is my selfishness that is causing some discomfort lately.  my need for "things", my desire to be accepted, invited, and applauded by every person around me, and my insatiable appetite for the "quick fix" or perfect cheeseburger:)  have subconsciously become priorities.  

how do i always get here?  it is often when things are good that i begin to slip.  it is often when i am uncomfortable that i begin to sabotage myself slowly by subconsciously changing my priorities.  it is often after i cannot even stand being with myself that i figure out what's happened, and sit down in a moment like this to wipe the slate clean and start over.  the slate can never truly be wiped clean, though, can it?  do we really want to wipe it clean, or is it better if a little trace of every choice, season, conversation, and milestone are present as we continue to write our stories?

i use the chalkboard at school every day.  often, after i erase the words from the day before and begin to write material for a new day, the residue from yesterday is still readable up close.  we can never erase what has happened.  many christians would disagree...but the truth is the  consequences, how we have affected others, and our own memory often leave a slight remnant of who we were in the writings of who we are, and cannot be ignored when determining who we want to be.  i have learned to love that old, dusty chalkboard.