इंडिया India

Written June 5th 2009:

India!!! Honestly I don’t know where to start, it has been absolutely amazing. I have been here for less than a week and it is one of the most incredible experiences I have ever had. I am currently writing this blog on a train to the Himalayans (and hoping I will find an internet connection when we arrive) – but that’s not the point, the point is I am on a train riding across India!!! Sitting on the edge, letting my feet dangle over the side, and typing away to my friends and family back home. This is marvellous!

The people here are like no one else I have ever met, yet like every other person I know. Like most things I want to write home about, I simply cannot. I have had more feelings without words in these few short days. I feel simplified, not just in my spirit but in my mind as well. I cannot write down what I am thinking or how I would like to portray this beautiful place; I don’t even know where to begin.

Ill try writing this first blog a bit more surface, maybe that will open me more. So…heat! Im wondering if any of you have crawled into an oven and camped out for a bit beside a big old pot of stinky stew? No? Huh, you should try too or at the very least travel to India in the dead of summer. Yesterday was 46 for most of the day, humid beyond belief, add on a morning rain, some funky “scents”, and the combination can basically throw you over the edge. It seriously pushes your body to limits you didn’t know you could reach. Every pour of my body leaks, it is absolutely necessary to shower multiple times a day. After a few short hours you are melting, literally you feel like you are melting, like your skin is just dripping off of you and your legs cannot withstand the weight above. Insane people; bloody insane.

Food has been amazing. So many people got my mind messed with all sorts of crazy when it came to the food, but it has been great. I have not eaten a thing I didn’t like and it is not nearly as spicy as I prepared in my mind it would be. Sure the plates are essentially community stacked and just wiped off and handed to the next person, but hey, all for one and one for all! Delhi belly has not even factored in and for that I am grateful, Tasha has already been plugging in my head that this is where I am supposed to be; Im an Indian at heart…humm food for thought!

Again, I would love to tell you all about the people I am traveling with but I cant. I have wrote and re-wrote this part and there are not words, nothing even sitting at the tip of my tongue. I am with beautiful people, each and every one of them thoughtfully placed together on this trip, and for very good reason. They are lovely and they have taught me so much, together we will teach, learn, and grow and I am really looking forward to that piece of the journey.

Mama I miss you. I know you are stressed but there really is no reason to be. I have experienced more kindness, silent connections, and general respect here than anywhere I have been in the world. Dad your words, your verses, your eyes, have kept me calm and focused in times of panic and I am really grateful for that. Christa, I wish I could talk to you every day. I have a million stories I want to share with you so you’re all jacked up for Brazil; I am so excited for you and your team. Tiffany, I miss you. Thank-you for your messy scribbles and disastrous highlights that have beautified my bible and spoke to me when I needed it the most. I love, love you all and I hope to find time to write home again soon. Miss you!

Rain, rain, go away...

Artist: Beata Czyzowska Young

God and I have been having a few issues lately.  My Dad used liken having a relationship with God to walking with Him in the rain.  God holds an umbrella over your head and as the two of you walk along He keeps you company, keeps you safe, and keeps you dry.  If you choose to walk out in the rain He doesn't walk away.  He patiently walks beside you, shaking His head at what you are doing to yourself.  But when you are ready, you can walk back under His umbrella and dry off...no strings attached.

There are situations in my life where I feel I am walking under His umbrella and am so rewarded for it.  Then, there are situations where I know I am walking in the rain.  I don't want to be, but Ive gotten myself so wet and cold by this point I don't trust I will actually dry off once if I step underneath again.  The trouble is, He is my only shelter, and I want to be that by MYSELF; there in lies the issue.  

Needless to say, God and I are having a bit of a power struggle right now and unfortunately He is one bull headed bugger and is NOT backing down.  There is one major area of my life where this is particularly true (and no this next sentence will not be what discloses my current heart war).  What He has designed for me is not what I necessary desire and not what I have put in the effort to seek out.  I have designed that path on my own, I have denied His right to be a part of it.  I have chosen to ignore what has been clearly written out for me and now, many moons later I am mad at the result.  Reminder: must-not-have-thick-head!

The good news is, I think am ready.  I am admitting defeat.  I am letting go of choice and holding on to direction (ohhh I hear the laughter in the crowds).  I am coming home from India and seeking out what was designed for me.  I don't have full faith in this but I am learning, and I don't know if I will really be taken care of but I have decided it is worth a try.  Maybe, just maybe, I will finally follow and find.  I am giddy in dreaming of what it will hold because I know whatever form it enters in it will be designed just for me and beautiful beyond imagination.  I am singing already!

Your mountain is waiting...

These past few days have been a bit funny with all of my nerves floating around my tummy as a prepare myself for my trip. In a matter of seconds I can be excited, scared, anxious, impatient, and giddy. Today my Mothers panic seemed to set in. She was being all sorts of crazy and during one of her rants I thought of a story she used to read me and a story that I loved to read to the boys. I dug it out tonight and it was my little reminder and nudge of encouragement that I needed.

Mom: Relax, your kids movin mountains, what can I say....

Congratulations! Today is your day.
You’re off to Great Places! You’re off and away!
You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes
You can steer yourself any direction you choose.
You’re on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the gal who’ll decide where to go.
You’ll look up and down streets. Look ‘em over with care.
About some you will say, “I don’t choose to go there.”
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
You’re too smart to go down any not-so-good street.
And you may not find any you’ll want to go down.
In that case, of course, you’ll head straight out of town.
It’s opener there in the wide open air.
Out there things can happen, and frequently do
to people as brainy and footsy as you.
And when things start to happen,
Don’t worry. Don’t stew.
Just go right along. You’ll start happening too.
OH! THE PLACES YOU’LL GO!
You’ll be on your way up! You’ll be seeing great sights!
You’ll join the high fliers who soar to high heights.
You won’t lag behind, because you’ll have the speed.
You’ll pass the whole gang and you’ll soon take the lead.
Wherever you fly, you’ll be the best of the best.
Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.

So be sure when you step, Step with care and great tact
and remember that Life’s a Great Balancing Act.
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.
And never mix up your right foot with your left.
And will you succeed? Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)
KID, YOU’LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!
So…
be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray
or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O’Shea,
You’re off to Great Places! Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So…get on your way!
~Dr. Seuss

My Bedtime Lullaby...

Summer is around the corner so I decided to make myself a few windchimes.  The problem is I fell in love with them, so rather than hang them up outside I just put them above my bed.  At night I give them a little push and fall asleep to their gentle sounds...awe, its so pretty.  I found this poem the other day and had to smile at its parallel...enjoy!

A Matter of Time:

He was given an offering of enchanting music

A wind chime to rest his soul

With every waking day he would open his eyes to his swaying gift

He would study it with great recognition

Appreciating its every move and gentle sound

When he was lonely he would listen to its chime

It would ease his heart and remind him of something greater

It would tell stories of peaceful days

This little tiny windchime kept his longing company 

He found trust in this melody 

Its each jewel grazing against one another to sing a song of comfort

A magnificent vision that mirrored his being

Its peaceful presence opened to bear all colors

For days, months, years on end this chime became his friend

Then one day the wind picked up

He went outside to find his chime rattling about

Its magical sounds turned into relentless pounding

There was no music left to hear on that cold windy day

So he took his windchime down...

He put it away for good.

-Author Unknown

Let us not look back in anger or forward in fear, but around in awareness. -James Thurber

My trip is finalized, my tickets are booked, I am leaving HOME!  I leave June 1st to visit Northern India for three weeks.  I cannot wait!  I am going with some beautiful people who I know will bless me and I hope in turn I do the same for them.  Together we will have the opportunity to venture India and work in shelters and orphanages throughout.  We will experience a life that cannot begin to parallel ours, and we will be given the gift of giving which really is unbeatable.  From India I will leave my group and head to London, Ireland, then Spain.  I will meet new people, travel unaccustomed land, and discover bits of not only the Countries I visit but myself as well.  I have been so excited for weeks, months even, but as my trip gets closer I am beginning to feel a foreign feeling, FEAR.

Fear has never really has been a feeling I knew well.  From infancy to adulthood, I was never really fearful.  By the time I was twelve years old I had broken my arm a half a dozen times and got stitches twice.  My Mom used to tell me about when I was a baby and I would touch the TV.  She would say "no" and with a smile on my face I would place my hand back on the TV with a "whatcha gonna do about it" look in my eye.  She could tell me no, slap my hand, get angry, whatever she wanted and according to her I wouldn't budge.  I cannot deny it, at twenty-five years of age I am still very much like that "no" is by far not my favorite word and fear doesnt seem to be a popular part of my vocabulary.  

However fear is a quality I find myself trying to learn.  Healthy fear seems very appealing to me.  I am constantly seeking adventure and chasing a thrill, even with my heart I am fearless.  Over the past few years I am learning cautiousness, I am slowing down a bit and being more cognesent of the dangers I put myself in; physically, spiritually, and emotionally.   

My Aunt found this picture of me a couple weeks ago and it made me smile.  This picture, to me, sums up a lot actually, I am the youngest of the bunch and the least fearful.  As everyone else holds on to the safety bar my hands stretch far above my head, and with a huge smile on my face I am fearing nothing and taking everything in.  In two weeks exactly I leave to a new world and for once I have fear when I look at this picture and think of my adventures.  I know myself, I know my limitless spirt, I know I need to work on that during my travels.  I need to have more fear, I am aware I am stepping on unfamiliar ground and trusting in something I have no reason to trust in.  I know there will need to be times I will have to lower my hands and grab ahold of my safety bar, I just hope I am still able to do it with a smile on my face.  Ahhhh!!!

Happy Mothers Day (better late than never)

To the Mommies in my life:  Happy Mothers Day!

To my Mommy:  Ill make this short and sweet cause if I went into detail about why I am grateful for you as a Mom we would all be here for hours.  Especially in the last five years you and I have grown so much together and you are such a good friend to me.  I know that if I ever needed you, I could call anytime and you would be there.  You love helping your children and playing the role of a Mommy and it is so very apparent.  Your support in my life has been such a gift, no matter how big or small you do your best to always support me or gently guide me in the right direction.  People used to say to me "you are your Mothers daughter" and I never really saw it, I see it everyday now and I love seeing you in me.  I love you Mama and I thank you for being such a good Mom.  After the year you have had there is no greater Mothers Day wish that I have for you than for you to rest your heart and have smiles and ease poured through you.

The lady who first made me an Auntie: Christa.  Growing up Christa always talked about how she would parent.  Quite frankly I always thought she would be the sister that would drive me nuts with her parenting.  Don't get me wrong, I knew she would be a good Mom but I didn't think her and I would have the same parenting techniques.  Boy was I wrong.  She is seriously one of the best Moms I know.  She is so amazing with her children.  Tula and Maverick are her heart and unlike so many Mothers out there, her children are not a chore they are her passion.  Sometimes when I lie in bed and think of my children, I pray for certain qualities Christa brings to her family, I love knowing that I am so proud of my sister I pray to be more like her.  Happy Mothers Day Chris!

If I were to be completely honest, I did not think Tiffany would have children for years!!  When I found out she was pregnant I thought "what the heck? How is this gonna work?".  But about the second I found myself thinking that, was also around the same time that I remembered one small detail, commitment.  Tiffany is about the most committed person I know.  When she decides something, it is a done deal and Mothering was no different.  Tiffany has always been one of my greatest teachers in life, but seeing her as a Mom taught me more than I could imagine.  I really truly have never seen a mother encapsulate so many qualities at the exact same time.  She is so loving, fun, tender, patient, calm, and protective, seriously my list could go on forever.  With Kiya, Tiffany needed to take on a million roles and put on many different hats, she did it with such ease and grace and it was beautiful to watch.  Tiff, I know this Mothers Day is a tough one for you but I want you to know when I see you, I see such a beautiful Mom who is still always putting her daughter first.  I cannot wait to start having babies with you (even if it is Plan B); Happy Mothers Day!

And of course I should mention my Grandma Klettke as it is my first year without her and on this Mothers Day especially I was reminded that without her being such a fabulous Mom I would not have been given the gift of my beautiful Mother.  Everyone brings certain qualities into their family that change the dynamic of their home, I still see so many of your qualities in our home today.  Laughter is definitely one of them, you loved to laugh (and it was honestly one of the sweetest sounds i've heard), sometimes when I see the way my sisters and I laugh with our Mom I think of you and all the giggles that you, Mom, and Lori shared, I bet they were beautiful.  Kindness!  There was one time in my whole life that I ever heard you say something negative about another person (which was actually really cute to hear), you really did follow the whole philosophy of "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all".  That one quality alone brought me so much respect for you.  You Grandma, were a beautiful lady who was so loved and adored (who else gets 93 cards sent to them when their sick).  Sometimes I feel like you are away in Arizona and any day now you and your pink nylon shirt and flood pants will come giggling through the front door, oh Grandma I miss you and Mothers Day really did remind me of how lucky I am to have been blessed with you.

Dear, I see it in your eyes...

The moment I walk into these Senior Center doors, I am my mother.  Almost every day here I have memories of my Mom taking care of one of our family members.  As a child I was so blessed to not only have each of my grandparents, I also had all but two great grandparents (in fact I still have one).  Through the lives and deaths of six great-grandparents and one grandmother, I was able to learn so much about caring for those during their last phase of life.

There are times I remember getting this sick feeling in my stomach in certain situations, and when I would look at my Mom I knew there were moments where she felt the same, but she would smile through it and hum it away; I too have learnt to do that, without her explaining it to me, I knew the importance of that very small act.  

I remember going to the hospital after my great-grandfather had gangrene.  Mom briefly forewarned us that one of his legs had been amputated but because I was so young (maybe eight or so), I was totally unprepared for the gravity that would hold for me.   I went in there completely shocked, rather frightened, and stomach turning.  Mom didn't skip a beat.  She told him how great he looked after surgery, she rubbed his wounds, she sang to him.  I knew that feeling in my stomach would probably stay, but I also knew that I needed to get past it, I needed to find my inner Mom and be alright with these situations.  So today I find myself humming a tune and I catch myself perching my lips the same way as her, as I gently put food into another women's mouth.  

I cannot explain the entertainment I receive from working in a senior center.  Listening to the constant bantering, the well-earned entitlement to receive whatever/whenever, the grace in their eyes, the coldness in some hearts.  You really do get to see it all.  People are different before they pass away.  When people know they don't have much time left, it opens up a freedom in them to be whoever they would like; it is bloody hilarious and so beautiful all in one.  

Every morning the seniors go to their regular spot in the dinning room.  The table beside us is usually quite lively.  It consists of Adelle (or as she likes to introduce herself as "Adelle, Adelle, nice to meet you pretty bell, now go away or go to h*ll"), Oscar who has Parkinson's and is essentially immobile, and Mr. Johnston, a very proper english gentleman who loves his gold jewelry and is very loud, exaggerated, and humors.  Anyway, the three of them were talking today and this is how the conversation went:

Mr. Johnston:  "Good-morning Oscar, OSCar, OSCAR, just wave to me this once Oscar. Can you believe he is 68?"

Adelle: "Oh he's in rough shape for being so young, looks like we'll beat him there" 

Mr. Johnston: "You know, Im 94 almost 95"

Adelle: "Im 91, turning 92, looks like you'll beat me there too"

Mr. Johnston: "We made it Adelle, we made our nineties, congratulations" (at this point they have about a sixty second eye lock/handshake) "You know I never even smoke or drank"

Adelle:  "Well you missed out on a lot of fun...I mean A LOT!" (and that was pretty much a conversation stopper for Adelle, I mean really, who doesn't smoke or drink?)

At times, I sit in the lunch room and think about how much wisdom is in this one room.  How many years of experience, tears, growth, and setbacks; literally I cannot even fathom.  Thankfully I have had the pleasure of receiving that wisdom so many times.  I have been in the company of many beautiful souls who have offered the most simple yet brilliant advice in all areas of life.  The other day Eva (the lady I am working with) said to me "I try not to worry but my disposition calls out for me to do so.  I haven't got the natural fortitude to just let it go", she followed that with the kindest glance and a graceful "dear, I see it in your eyes, you need to work on that too".  Oh the words of the wise! 

Orange vs. Yellow

Last night was my final evening of glassblowing and it was great!  Glassblowing has always been an art form that I have wanted to try and I am so glad I did.  One of my favorite parts of glassblowing however, was realizing I am not a glassblower nor am I interested in becoming one.  The last evening of our two months of classes was supposed to be spent mastering the art and creating your final big project.  All week I thought about what I would create, what my final piece would turn into, but when I got there I really didn't care; not in an apathetic way, I just wasn't interested in making anything else.  I was satisfied, completely content with what I had already made and I wanted to focus on those items instead.  Typically I would have gone to class and blown glass from the beginning to end, not missing out on one minute to ensure that I created the best piece ever and made the most of my time.  But throughout this process I have realized that glassblowing isn't my thing and I don't need to make it that way.  It is really difficult, seriously too hot, and not something I am able to go home and practice on my own.  I knew within the first few weeks that I wouldn't be going any further in it.  Now typically I am a very competitive person and this response just wouldn't have sat well, but for some reason something was different this time.  I was fully willing to accept that glassblowing was not my forte and I didn't need to stress myself out trying to make it that way.  I don't know if I am explaining myself very well, but either way it was a pretty neat discovery for me.

Now don't get me wrong, although I am not becoming a professional glassblower any time soon, I still enjoyed each and every class I had.  Week after week I challenged myself and learnt something new.  I focused my mind on art for a minimum of four hours every week, which is great habit to get into and something I really need to do more.  Most of all I had set aside time each and every week just for me.  It gave me an opportunity to clear my mind, to think things through, to be distracted, to learn, to meet new people, to try something new.  I was able to learn the importance of classes, of having a schedule set out to spend time with myself, doing something I love.  Since I was young and in sports or music (which was just a tiny bit ago) I haven't done anything organized like this; I really enjoyed it and learnt that I need to be doing it more often.

Here are some pictures of me blowing glass and of some of my lovely masterpieces.  The small ones are what I started off making.  Most people would walk by those blobs of glass and not think twice, but I look at them and am able see how much effort and time goes into even the smallest piece of glass; they make me proud.  The three vases are my favorite things that I made in class; I think they are so pretty.  I noticed last night that although they were all done in different classes, I unintentionally used the same colors each time.  I decided to look up the meaning of those colors and I found it very interesting.  I read that dark orange is "the color of heat or darkness" and it "can mean deceit and distrust".  Yellow on the other hand "is the color of sunshine" it also "produces a warming effect, arouses cheerfulness" and "indicates honor and loyalty".  I liked that the only two colors I chose contradicted themselves and represented my inner wars (or some of the wars I am facing).  Those colors swirled about my art in a battle of which would be the dominate one, and swirled about in myself of which would be the dominate reaction; I am happy to report that in both cases yellow won!

In my first blog about glassblowing I said I was excited to see what I would make and what it would mean to me.  I really didn't think such a small piece of glass would be something that would mean this much; something that would teach me this many lessons.  Now, when I look at my vases, and even my paperweights, they will mean more to me than I ever thought they would, more than I can put in words...at least in here.  

Let your tears come. Let them water your soul. ~Eileen Mayhew

Its been a while since i've posted and although I have about a half a dozen blogs already written, I just cant seem to post them.  Whether they are too personal, too touchy, too boring, or too me, I just haven't wanted to put them out there for everyone to divulge in.  I've had a tough month.  I've gone through lots of emotion, lots of growing, and LOTS of tears.  Me...crying...I know?!?  It has to be one of my new favorite things!  I am not one of those overly emotional girls, I mean I am in a sense, but when it comes to big painful issues I hardly ever deal with them by crying.  

This year was a big one!  So, so many difficult situations in my life.  Too much pain, too much death, too much change.  I thought I was dealing with everything alright but I am realizing I wasn't even close.  As always I would busy myself in everything and anything till eventually I got over that hump.  Work, friends, hobbies, care-taking, the computer, and so many other outlets helped distract my mind from life.  And with everything this year added up to be, I could almost count on my hands how many times I actually let go and cried.  

I have gone through my fair share of life issues.  Sometimes I curse my last twenty-five years and sometimes I feel blessed by them.  One of the reasons I curse them though is because it made me live on the defense.  Pain, for me, was not an option.  It was too daunting, too big.  So I dealt with it by getting angry, hurting myself, hurting others, ignoring it, drowning it out, using, laughing, pretending it wasn't there.  No matter what form I found, actually working through issues and dealing with the pain was rarely a way of coping that I chose to use.  

Whether it was my year, where I was at in my life, the long cold winter...whatever, I just seemed to be in a funk.  On one level I completely knew it and on the other I really had no idea; I know it makes no sense!  Anyway, this past month has brought even more change to my life and with the sun coming out every day (and the persistence of a certain someone that really seemed to open up my heart) I seem to be facing those hurdles in a totally new light.  I have cried almost every day for a month straight!  Sounds depressing hey?  But its not!  It has been one of the most healing experiences I've had...a detox of the soul if you will.  I have cried for the ones I have lost, the loss of relationships, for myself, for my pain, for my years and years of missed-out tears.  

Now dont get me wrong, Im not a blubbering mess 24/7.  I am still out enjoying life.  In this short month I have tried so many new things; I have met new people, I have fell in love with my work again, I have continued to express myself through art, I have made some awesome plans for the future, yada, yada.  Life is treating me well, and I am treating me well, but part of that right now is cleansing myself with tears.  Its almost like I put aside time every day to feel the cool, salty, moisture fall from my face and most importantly fall from my heart.

So many times you hear people say "just cry it out" and until now I have never understood the importance of it.  Ive always felt strange or cold for not being one of those super sensitive girls but that isn't the case, its just I didn't know how to be OK with too much emotion, I wasn't comfortable in it.  I am learning to love it though, learning to coach myself through a true healing process.  So as the tears flow I am growing, I am opening a chapter of my life which is so gentle and vulnerable...so not me, but only this time it is me, and it is beautiful!  

So next time you see me out-and-about and my eyes look a little extra puffy, dont feel bad or wonder if I am alright.  See the beauty in my eyes...see the look of healing.

I know I can be colorful, I know I can be grey...

Someone asked me today why I do what I do.  More in terms of what I do for a career and volunteering.  Lots of people don't agree with the work I am in, they question why I would sacrifice my time, salary, and my heart on problems that arnt mine.  This person was not insinuating that at all but it did get me thinking.  There are times when I too wonder why it is I am so drawn to the social development field, why I give more of me to others than I do to myself (which is a whole other issue).  I think the way I look at it is: a carpenter is given the gift of his hands, an architect is given the gift of his eye, and I was given the gift of my heart.  For me, it would be wasteful and unfulfilling to not use it, I love the work I do, the passion I bring, the lives I meet.  It is one of the most rewarding paths I could imagine and I am so glad I landed myself here.  Here's a poem (and song) that stirred me up a few years ago, I thought of it today as I was replying to this friend.

Three passions have governed my life:
The longings for love, the search for knowledge,
And unbearable pity for the suffering of [humankind].

Love brings ecstasy and relieves loneliness.
In the union of love I have seen
In a mystic miniature the prefiguring vision
Of the heavens that saints and poets have imagined.

With equal passion I have sought knowledge.
I have wished to understand the hearts of [people].
I have wished to know why the stars shine.

Love and knowledge led upwards to the heavens,
But always pity brought me back to earth;
Cries of pain reverberated in my heart
Of children in famine, of victims tortured
And of old people left helpless.
I long to alleviate the evil, but I cannot,
And I too suffer.

This has been my life; I found it worth living.

-Bretrand Russell