New England Life...

Those who know me have the understanding that my heart is often working out the things of life. Those who are close to me know what things I am working out.

As it so happens, my heart misses a life I once had but lives in anticipation of the present, searching for the moments that bring meaning. Recently I have been reminded, yet again, just why I am here at this place. I was reminded why I am in New England, my birthplace with all her beauty and puritan pride. Sometimes as a native of this strange land, I feel like a stranger. And there are other experiences that feel so comfortable and perfect.

Recently, the goose in my back yard had chicks. (Note: I also have ducks and a beaver but the beaver has been missing for a while). My geese, pictured above, are quite cute. And every morning I wake up and look out the window of my perfect apartment and look for my babies. I love them for so many reasons, but namely for what they represent; rebirth, which brings me to my next point.

My boss recently gave a speech about commitment and weathering the storm, at the end of the year banquet. He used a favorite Indigo Girls ballad called "The Wood Song" to illustrate his point.

As it so happens, this particular song has greater meaning to me than meets they eye. Now I believe that everything takes place for a reason...good and bad... painful and joyful. And so I leave you with the lyrics of this beautiful song to tie together the strings and even find the missing link of how it might bring wonder into our own life.

The Wood Song

the thin horizon of a plan is almost clear my friends and I have had a hard time bruising our brains hard up against change all the old dogs and the magician now I see we're in the boat in two by twos only the heart that we have for a tool we could use and the very close quarters are hard to get used to love weighs the hull down with its weight but the wood is tired and the wood is old and we'll make it fine if the weather holds but if the weather holds then we'll have missed the point that's were i need to go no way construction of this tricky plan was built by other than a greater hand with a love that passes all our understanding watching closely over the journey yeah but what it takes to cross the great divide seems more than all the courage i can muster up inside but we get to have some answers when we reach the other side the prize is always worth the rocky ride but the wood is tired and the wood is old and we'll make it fine if the weather holds but if the weather holds then we'll have missed the point that's where i need to go sometimes i ask to sneak a closer look skip to the final chapter of the book and maybe steer us clear from some of the pain that it took to get us where we are this far but the question drowns in its futility and even i have got to laugh at me cause no one gets to miss the storm of what will be just holding on for the ride the wood is tired the wood is old and we'll make it fine if the weather holds but if the weather holds then we'll have missed the point that's where i need to go

He's dying...

I said it for the first time yesterday and it meant that I had to admit it. It was true all of a sudden and now I can’t deny the reality anymore. No matter how many visits he has with the doctor or trips there are to the VA hospital for another procedure, the fact is, he is still dying.

Cancer…it’s taking over. Hospice comes to the house now. We’re hoping for a good summer. Last month we hoped for surgery.

It’s amazing how priorities change when you are dying and how some of the most mundane things in life stay the same just to remind you that there is still a breath within.

He reads books…has conversations (not thinking they could be his last)…goes to the grocery store…even does the laundry. The rest of us go about our day…maybe trying to forget.

For the sake of dignity…he will die with grace, surrounded by those he loves and I guess we can only hope that for each other.

Turning 28...

I recently celebrated a birthday….my 28th. And like always, I was quite reflective, which I guess is not too different than my everyday routine, but maybe just different. I had a good look at my last year of life…where I had been and where I thought I was going. And I realized a few basic things, which are sort of empowering and heartbreakingly normal.

I realized that I was sad last year for a lot of reasons but basically because I was in transition. Because my heart was broken and because I was lost.

I realized that I am quite happy now…at least today….and on a growing trend, most of the time.

I realized that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. Which is ok in my world and I am sort of surprised by that.

I’ve had an amazing 28 years. Certainly uncommon in some aspects, and quite normal and run of the mill in others, I am living a good life. I am grateful for the brilliant, amazing, loving and life giving people that have crossed my path. I am in a place of gratefulness, something I don’t express often and probably should. I am content and challenged at the same time and that is quite OK with me. I am moving forward and find hope in that, loving the moments when I am “schooled” on my faults, misgivings, imperfections and random moments of forgetfulness.

I am happy with the woman I am becoming and I look forward to viewing progress in the future. But for the time being I am living for this day.

This year I am going to work on some things…namely gratitude and self-judgment. But in all…life is quite good!

Living With War

When I was in the fourth grade I remember that Operation Desert Storm was taking place. I remember that I made posters in my school from newspaper clippings to hang up around the hallways and the classrooms to “Bring Home the Troops”. I remember writing letters to our troops and making care packages. I remember the images on the TV of the oil fields on fire and the missiles shooting through the night sky. I remember seeing how a sand camouflage tank would jolt when it shot at something. I remember the yellow ribbons and the American Flags I helped pass out.

Today, years and years later, there is a new war from unfinished business. And I remember the day it started five years ago. I remember the protests and the prayer vigils. I remember the reoccurring video footage of the twin towers falling over and over again. I remember the images of congressional meetings and the speeches of justification. I remember watching the first attacks and how I sobbed watching the TV, knowing that I would never forget the moment. And now, more than anything, I intentionally remember the faces of Iraqi citizens who are stuck in the bureaucrat middle ground of the business of war. I remember my friends who work with Iraqi refugees in Syria. And as I walk past Vietnam Veterans near the state hospital not too far from my home, I think of all our troops who will suffer from the affects of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I remember Carlos Mejia and his descent to the war and all the other Contentious Objectors who face the struggle of opposing a culture of war.

I am a 28 years old woman. I drive a car, probably more than I should. I have a job that pays well with good insurance. I am educated. I read the New York Times on a whim. I drink Caramel Latte’s on Saturday’s. I oppose the war on principal and I have a hard time keeping the daily bombings and death tolls straight. Which is probably a purposeful laziness. I call myself a social activist and yet there is so much I have not done.

I am 28 years old….I am living.
I am living with war.

I am not living in war.

A New Year

On this crisp morning with the New England snow falling I can’t help but remember where I was a year ago. With full anticipation, a naive heart and adventure in the air, I rang in the New Year surrounded by fireworks in Granada, Nicaragua. Let’s just say that the climate was not the only change that has taken place since last year. Hahahaha

Certainly right around this time of year, folks do a lot of reflection about the year that has just past, and the one they are anticipating at the drop of the ball in Times Square! However, I feel like I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting this year and I’m really ready to just LIVE!

As crazy, trite or cliché that it may sound, life is meant for living and experiencing. As much as I try to plan my way around and through life, navigating speed bumps and trying to avoid uncomfortable pain or even bouts of unexplainable joy, I am gradually finding that it means very little in retrospect. In fact, those very moments that I try to avoid are the exact experiences that I am meant to live. I don’t mean to say that I am meant for pain or any of the raw crappy events that fill up some days in a life, but rather, moments are meant to be lived and not avoided.

Life is meant to be lived and not planned and plotted.

In this last year, I have rested my head in 6 different countries. I read some great book. I listened to some fantastic music. I met some really incredible people and even built relationships with some of them. I made contact with old amigos that still make me laugh. I have danced my heart out on several occasions. I went though at least two boxes of tissues by myself this year (for different reasons…who knew that I wasn’t invincible…haha). I made some people laugh and some others cry and I think my family is really happy that I am home. I think of Latin America every single day and I’ve managed NOT to plan my next big trip. But rather, I am living for the moment…the here and now.

On this eve of a new year, I am truly grateful and humbled. I couldn’t have planned it better myself.

Guatemala

In the summer of the year 2000 I found myself in Guatemala. I had just finished my freshman year of college. I was on a trip with friends, doing things I didn’t quite agree with (“missionary work”) and realized my place in the disconnect of it all. That was the moment that I realized my calling and I stopped for those few minutes to collect myself. I was on a rooftop terrace, staring at a volcano, I took a deep breath and reflected.

I left Guatemala shortly after, only to revisit it in my memory, every single day since. Not one single day passes when I don’t think of Guatemala. I have collections of memories in my mind…of people, places, smells, beauties and joys and all the places in between.

I have since been back to Guatemala several times to recollect all the pieces that I lose in the process of living. I go to Guatemala to collect myself and reflect. It’s not the only place that I go in this world when I am looking to regroup but it is the place that keeps me grounded and connected to all that was and all of the hope of who I might become.

Guatemala, in all her beauty, suffering and transition also holds a piece of my heart, vulnerable to the textured mapping of my life…all that I have lived and all that I live for. And thus, my heart has been broken there, in every sense of the word…broken and mended, broken and mended…broken…
Ready to live and thrive again. So that I stay humble…so that I remain open…so that I strive for compassion…so that I always hope for the best in people and situations.

I never lose hope….
I never lose hope…for Guatemala…or what I have learned there.

We are all called to live lives that are full. I am grateful for my youth and that I am living out my calling in a diversity of ways and emotions.

Dia de Gracias

Thus passes the day of giving thanks 2007. My first time at home for this holiday in three years. Good food...good laughs...I miss El Salvador. I won't go into too many details, but I will say that somehow it's easier to be fully thankful there...than it is to crack a smile here and really feel it some days. Beyond the fake hugs and kisses at the local watering hole the other night, I am past my eyes in fake gestures and superficial conversations. I miss the hard core reality that strips away all the crap...and a simple conversation with a fiend in ES seemed to mean more than I anticipated them to be.

But don't let this reality check fool you....I am still very full of life...full of anticipation...full of many things to be thankful for.

My family...friends....all those people in between...a job that I love...sweet sunshine in the morning and the realization that I am living a life that is in a place of privilege.

So yesterday as I remembered the pilgrims and the native...and their struggle...as I recalled the injustice and the oppression that this country was built on, I also remembered the true spirit of this holiday...the spirit of giving thanks. A spirit that can transfer over to other lands (like ES) where I celebrated Dia de Gracias with a whole lot of other people last year.

Living a life of gratefulness is what I will strive to cultivate in this heart of mine.