The other day Stefanie and I had a lovely time ice-skating, then we went to the history museum. There were two special exhibits. One was about the phenomenal and exquisite Katherine Dunham. The other exhibit was about treasure, and it required tickets, which were free for Saint Louis residents. Upon learning that we would be charged as out of town residents; Stef and I thanked the attendant and left without the tickets.
As we were entering the Katherine Dunham exhibit a man gave Stef and I tickets to the treasure exhibit. This Saint Louis resident overheard us asking about the tickets so he requested extra tickets to share with us.
Stefanie and I were happy and surprised by this random act of kindness. We thanked the gentleman as he quickly left. Stef shared my perspective that this sort of wonderful thing happens all the time.
The kind stranger truly made us smile and sparked a conversation about assuming the best about people. Almost nobody sits around conniving to hurt others. Those who do, have psychological problems. I’ve been trying to keep this in mind when I’m upset, though it is so much harder if I’m triggered.
The day after the history museum while doing much wonderful cooking, I could hear the show my sister was watching about Lady Cops. These tuff women described themselves as jaded due to all they’ve seen. In order to protect themselves physically and emotionally cops need to assume the worst.
I mixed what I was hearing on the show with things I’ve heard from the neighborhood cop, then I addeed en my own flowery world view with sprinkles of thought about the prison industrial complex, healing, and social justice. The resulting thought was, “I could be a cop!”
Yes, I too am quite surprised, at the thought synthesis. Being a cop would be a supreme challenge. I’ve had challenges to my world view, but being a cop would be the epitome of challenge. An unchallenged conviction is just a fantasy. I don’t imagine myself as a cop forever, because law enforcement doesn’t seem to be an effective means to address social issues, but I can see myself doing it for 5 years. Oh, yet another idea for my future…
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Tutoring
December has come, and nearly gone. After a turbulent re-entry to the United Sates I am finally feeling settled into my life here in Saint Louis. It is currently winter break from my tutor position with 3rd graders at Woodward Elementary School.
The last day of school there was a holiday assembly. A 5th grader introduced the goals of the assembly. He expressed gratefulness for living in the United States where every child can go to school and get a free, quality education. These words stung my eyes, and the water works continued as a gym full of innocent, undereducated, underprivileged children stood for “My Country Tis of Thee”. The meritocracy and greatness of this country has never seemed more like indoctrination.
My school isn’t the worst of the worst, but there are kids in every class who can’t read. There are third graders who still don’t know their letters. Kids who qualify for an individualized education plan have a teacher who doesn’t even know what the unique educational needs of their students are. It’s hard to know those needs when the school doesn’t have records to show what those needs are. Who is this glorious free education serving? My education prepared me to be a life-long learner, but the kids in Saint Louis don’t have the same opportunity.
The students are adorable, and they are progressing. All of my kids know their letters now, and they are mastering the basic sight words taught in Kindergarten. Teaching comprehension and writing to those who aren’t as devastatingly behind is more challenging than teaching phonetics to the lower level students. I’m struggling to reach one student who has no motivation even when the subject has been carefully tailored to his interests.
Prior to this service I had a romantic view of passion as contagious. I assumed that my passion for words, letters, and stories, would automatically influence the students to be hypnotized by reading. I don’t write passion off as completely incommunicable, it’s just that these kids have some powerful anti-bodies built up.
Poverty seems harsher here than in the school I worked at in France. My students talk about guns, drugs, and violence. Several of my children have bad breath, and obvious dental problems. Over 90% of children at Woodward eat free breakfast, and lunch at school. The kids don’t have a play ground, and the school is locked. I’ve never been to a school in the States that is locked.
I’m learning and growing, and I’m hoping to help my kids on their path as well. Since September I’ve been reading exclusively children’s literature and pedagogical theory. I suspect this will be my literary diet until the end of my service. I’m sure that even so there is much I need to learn about the skill of imparting knowledge.
And so it is. I try to let it be just like that. Perhaps I’m not as effective as I could be if I were more experienced and trained or if I had more time with the kids. (I regularly fantasize about kidnapping my students and raising them in a carefully constructed dream world.) But I figure there is nothing I can do to hurt these kids, so I patiently cultivate and nurture to the best of my ability.
The last day of school there was a holiday assembly. A 5th grader introduced the goals of the assembly. He expressed gratefulness for living in the United States where every child can go to school and get a free, quality education. These words stung my eyes, and the water works continued as a gym full of innocent, undereducated, underprivileged children stood for “My Country Tis of Thee”. The meritocracy and greatness of this country has never seemed more like indoctrination.
My school isn’t the worst of the worst, but there are kids in every class who can’t read. There are third graders who still don’t know their letters. Kids who qualify for an individualized education plan have a teacher who doesn’t even know what the unique educational needs of their students are. It’s hard to know those needs when the school doesn’t have records to show what those needs are. Who is this glorious free education serving? My education prepared me to be a life-long learner, but the kids in Saint Louis don’t have the same opportunity.
The students are adorable, and they are progressing. All of my kids know their letters now, and they are mastering the basic sight words taught in Kindergarten. Teaching comprehension and writing to those who aren’t as devastatingly behind is more challenging than teaching phonetics to the lower level students. I’m struggling to reach one student who has no motivation even when the subject has been carefully tailored to his interests.
Prior to this service I had a romantic view of passion as contagious. I assumed that my passion for words, letters, and stories, would automatically influence the students to be hypnotized by reading. I don’t write passion off as completely incommunicable, it’s just that these kids have some powerful anti-bodies built up.
Poverty seems harsher here than in the school I worked at in France. My students talk about guns, drugs, and violence. Several of my children have bad breath, and obvious dental problems. Over 90% of children at Woodward eat free breakfast, and lunch at school. The kids don’t have a play ground, and the school is locked. I’ve never been to a school in the States that is locked.
I’m learning and growing, and I’m hoping to help my kids on their path as well. Since September I’ve been reading exclusively children’s literature and pedagogical theory. I suspect this will be my literary diet until the end of my service. I’m sure that even so there is much I need to learn about the skill of imparting knowledge.
And so it is. I try to let it be just like that. Perhaps I’m not as effective as I could be if I were more experienced and trained or if I had more time with the kids. (I regularly fantasize about kidnapping my students and raising them in a carefully constructed dream world.) But I figure there is nothing I can do to hurt these kids, so I patiently cultivate and nurture to the best of my ability.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Anything and Everything!
Last update I expressed my deeply held belief that anything is possible and I provided four freak experiences as evidence. These four events are not the foundation of my adherence to the “anything is possible” theory of life. Indeed an abundance of joyous examples from my life and from the lives of loved ones have convinced me of the truth that anything is possible as well as, “everything is alright”. A few examples…
· Experiences of the 6th sense that make me sure a higher power exists and works through me.
· Traveling to countries I never expected to go to
· Reconnecting with people at just the right time.
· Visiting the apartment of the Peruvian ambassador to Italy.
· People who have helped me catch a bus/train/plane
· Jennifer having kids and getting married.
· The way I was welcomed and taken care of when I went to France.
· All the incredible people who have influenced my life.
· The support I had during the summer, without which I wouldn’t have been able to finish my job.
· Getting close to a wild moose.
· My Grandma surviving stage 4 cancer in the lymphoid.
· My cousins adopting kids.
· My cousins selling, renting, and then building a house despite challenges.
· Graduating college.
· Having a car.
Perhaps some of the events seem mundane or mere luck. Certainly a list does not do these extraordinary events justice, however the afore mentioned things represent the improbable to me. The divine way that things fit exquisitely together. I could list so many more examples from my life and the lives of loved ones, but I think I’ll stop there.
There are beginnings that I’ve had where I was naïve to possible down falls. I struck out full of positivity and innocence. It was only once I was in the midst of the situation that I realized if I had fully thought things through I wouldn’t have made the same choice. The potential for adversity would have paralyzed me and I would have been finished before I started.
France illustrates this point perfectly. I went over there knowing that funds were going to be a little tight for the first month. I didn’t realize until I got there that I flat out didn’t have enough money. If it weren’t for Carole and her family so graciously hosting me for the fist week, I wouldn’t have made it. Moreover the directrice of the Foyer accepted partial payment rent until my first pay check arrived.
If I were fully conscious of financial realities then I doubt I would have taken the risk to go. I would have been too proud to borrow money, and unwilling to sleeping on the street. However I did go, and the community/universe provided.
My choices are influenced by a belief that everything is possible and everything is alright. I was afraid to go to Chile, because I knew I couldn’t afford to buy a car and go to Chile. When I needed to book my flight it was yet unclear if I would need to buy a car. I didn’t want to miss an opportunity to see my friend if I didn’t buy a car, but I didn’t want to be stuck if I did need to buy a car. I also hated the idea that I had worked so hard all summer so that I could buy a car in order to work more. In the end I took a deep breath and decided to buy the ticket. I didn’t know what the outcome with the car would be, but I was sure that a solution would materialize.
There is something to be said for humility and responsibility. It is arrogant and completely unfair to be constantly needy and dependent on others. I’ve recently made a new goal to establish savings for the more challenging “anythings” such as health concerns, car accidents, job loss, etc. My main point is that there is always an element of risk, potential for unimaginable beauty as well as devastation. So live. Be alive every moment.
· Experiences of the 6th sense that make me sure a higher power exists and works through me.
· Traveling to countries I never expected to go to
· Reconnecting with people at just the right time.
· Visiting the apartment of the Peruvian ambassador to Italy.
· People who have helped me catch a bus/train/plane
· Jennifer having kids and getting married.
· The way I was welcomed and taken care of when I went to France.
· All the incredible people who have influenced my life.
· The support I had during the summer, without which I wouldn’t have been able to finish my job.
· Getting close to a wild moose.
· My Grandma surviving stage 4 cancer in the lymphoid.
· My cousins adopting kids.
· My cousins selling, renting, and then building a house despite challenges.
· Graduating college.
· Having a car.
Perhaps some of the events seem mundane or mere luck. Certainly a list does not do these extraordinary events justice, however the afore mentioned things represent the improbable to me. The divine way that things fit exquisitely together. I could list so many more examples from my life and the lives of loved ones, but I think I’ll stop there.
There are beginnings that I’ve had where I was naïve to possible down falls. I struck out full of positivity and innocence. It was only once I was in the midst of the situation that I realized if I had fully thought things through I wouldn’t have made the same choice. The potential for adversity would have paralyzed me and I would have been finished before I started.
France illustrates this point perfectly. I went over there knowing that funds were going to be a little tight for the first month. I didn’t realize until I got there that I flat out didn’t have enough money. If it weren’t for Carole and her family so graciously hosting me for the fist week, I wouldn’t have made it. Moreover the directrice of the Foyer accepted partial payment rent until my first pay check arrived.
If I were fully conscious of financial realities then I doubt I would have taken the risk to go. I would have been too proud to borrow money, and unwilling to sleeping on the street. However I did go, and the community/universe provided.
My choices are influenced by a belief that everything is possible and everything is alright. I was afraid to go to Chile, because I knew I couldn’t afford to buy a car and go to Chile. When I needed to book my flight it was yet unclear if I would need to buy a car. I didn’t want to miss an opportunity to see my friend if I didn’t buy a car, but I didn’t want to be stuck if I did need to buy a car. I also hated the idea that I had worked so hard all summer so that I could buy a car in order to work more. In the end I took a deep breath and decided to buy the ticket. I didn’t know what the outcome with the car would be, but I was sure that a solution would materialize.
There is something to be said for humility and responsibility. It is arrogant and completely unfair to be constantly needy and dependent on others. I’ve recently made a new goal to establish savings for the more challenging “anythings” such as health concerns, car accidents, job loss, etc. My main point is that there is always an element of risk, potential for unimaginable beauty as well as devastation. So live. Be alive every moment.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Rollerblading
I strapped on my rollerblades, and launched myself from the doorstep when suddenly my dad jumped out from the dark wielding a sharp object. Needless to say I screamed and told him that scarring me was uncalled for. Dad told me that he was showing me that I need to watch out more. This sparked a brief conversation on how I interact in the world. The conversation ended with me protesting about living in fear and defending the precautions I take emotionally and physically. Dad asserted that I was naïve and lucky that my ineffectual precautions have not led to my demise. Realizing that the point was mute I rolled my eyes under the cover of darkness and hugged my dad before I rolled away.
Being a sassy girl of the world, I get the “watch out for the Boogie-Man” talk a lot. The biggest initiators of these warnings are my many parents are who are in perpetual fear that I’m going to be attacked and or abducted. At least one of my parents also considers it a possibility that I could be brain washed. These fears are genuine and thus I consider the most loving thing for me to do is reassure my parents with smiles, hugs, kisses, and regular contact. If I can pacify their concerns without altering my sense of self then I do.
Despite the recommendations of everyone in my family, one simple act that I am incapable of fulfilling is watching the movie “Taken”. I’ll save my political, feminist arguments about the sexualization of violence against women and the absurdity of violence as entertainment regardless of context for another blog. Thoughts on media aside, I just can’t watch scary or bloody movies.
My imagination is still alive and well. Normally I skip around thinking happy thoughts and making up beautiful things in my head. I credit my general happiness to this habit of perpetually daydreaming. Perhaps my privilege makes it possible for me to go around in a fantasy land. Or perhaps I’m genetically inclined to float around on a sublime cloud. Whatever the case may be, that is how I function.
My imagination has a dark side however. This coincides with other images that pop up at bizarre times. Sometimes I’m walking along on a sunny day humming a song to myself when somewhere from the depths of my mind the idea that someone (usually a man) in my vicinity could attack me. In an effort to prevent a regular state of imagining horrific events, I just try to stay away from them. This includes movies like “Taken”.
When I’m exposed to violent things, I have nightmares, and I can’t stop my imagination from replaying scenes and expanding on them in more gruesome ways. Sometimes images from a film like that will pop up at unexpected times. I do listen to the news, and sometimes I’ll get nightmares from that, but what can I do?
Perhaps the morbid parts of me have always been their but they are more prevalent since I found an uninvited man in my room, and since my friend was murdered. Other improbable events like my Uncle dyeing in a plane crash, my Grandpa dyeing in an ordinary medical procedure, and my cousin getting hit by a bus have also contributed to an over all feeling that anything can and will happen.
For my 23 years I have been part of a perpetual and reinforcing cycle of blissful imaginings. I worry about how this would play out if I spun too far out into negativity. When I do get into dark moods, they scare me. There is a long history of depression in my family, could I fall into that?
So I prefer not to think about “sad/bad” things. I intentionally separate myself from them to the best of my ability. I keep busy. I get my energy from people. The sadness always escapes and manifests itself in the form of sleeplessness, illness or general emotional neediness, however thus far happiness always prevails.
Being a sassy girl of the world, I get the “watch out for the Boogie-Man” talk a lot. The biggest initiators of these warnings are my many parents are who are in perpetual fear that I’m going to be attacked and or abducted. At least one of my parents also considers it a possibility that I could be brain washed. These fears are genuine and thus I consider the most loving thing for me to do is reassure my parents with smiles, hugs, kisses, and regular contact. If I can pacify their concerns without altering my sense of self then I do.
Despite the recommendations of everyone in my family, one simple act that I am incapable of fulfilling is watching the movie “Taken”. I’ll save my political, feminist arguments about the sexualization of violence against women and the absurdity of violence as entertainment regardless of context for another blog. Thoughts on media aside, I just can’t watch scary or bloody movies.
My imagination is still alive and well. Normally I skip around thinking happy thoughts and making up beautiful things in my head. I credit my general happiness to this habit of perpetually daydreaming. Perhaps my privilege makes it possible for me to go around in a fantasy land. Or perhaps I’m genetically inclined to float around on a sublime cloud. Whatever the case may be, that is how I function.
My imagination has a dark side however. This coincides with other images that pop up at bizarre times. Sometimes I’m walking along on a sunny day humming a song to myself when somewhere from the depths of my mind the idea that someone (usually a man) in my vicinity could attack me. In an effort to prevent a regular state of imagining horrific events, I just try to stay away from them. This includes movies like “Taken”.
When I’m exposed to violent things, I have nightmares, and I can’t stop my imagination from replaying scenes and expanding on them in more gruesome ways. Sometimes images from a film like that will pop up at unexpected times. I do listen to the news, and sometimes I’ll get nightmares from that, but what can I do?
Perhaps the morbid parts of me have always been their but they are more prevalent since I found an uninvited man in my room, and since my friend was murdered. Other improbable events like my Uncle dyeing in a plane crash, my Grandpa dyeing in an ordinary medical procedure, and my cousin getting hit by a bus have also contributed to an over all feeling that anything can and will happen.
For my 23 years I have been part of a perpetual and reinforcing cycle of blissful imaginings. I worry about how this would play out if I spun too far out into negativity. When I do get into dark moods, they scare me. There is a long history of depression in my family, could I fall into that?
So I prefer not to think about “sad/bad” things. I intentionally separate myself from them to the best of my ability. I keep busy. I get my energy from people. The sadness always escapes and manifests itself in the form of sleeplessness, illness or general emotional neediness, however thus far happiness always prevails.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Changes
Jennifer recently bought a house and she moved back to Washington. Since the end of September I’ve known that Jenn would probably move, however she left suddenly after her and Jana had a dispute. Jennifer has been gone for two weeks, but I’m still feeling out a new equilibrium. All and all I have been three weeks in adjusting because the week Jenn packed was extremely difficult. Jana was gone for most of that week, and boxes were everywhere. Fortunately Jennifer and Jana reconnected before Jenn and the kids left. It was important to both girls that Aedan and Jana got to spend time together before they left.
I was so relieved when Jana came back home that my personal water fountains sprung to life. The girls were able to transcend their differences because there were kids involved. Extraordinary feats of relationship repair often occurs when kids are involved, but I have to wonder why can’t adults put their pride aside because of love? Why blame? Does silent treatment and hurtful burdens add anything to the lives of people in conflict?
In any case, the house is quieter, and I have been staying extra busy to alleviate sad feelings. I’m happy for Jennifer and her family. It’s wonderful that she is able to buy a house. I admire her strength everyday. I still miss her and the kids though. I miss silly conversations with Jennifer and all the ridiculous things she says. I miss playing cars and cooking with Aedan. I miss tickling Morgan, and I miss Kenley’s sweet smile. Even for though it was short the time we had together was truly special. My poor brother in law must be heart broken without them. I keep Sam in mind and think, “I can’t really complain, but sometimes I still do…”
I’ve been working on my relationship with Jana since I arrived, and I’m starting to feel the love grow. My relationship with Jana is teaching me how to love. Patience and love is building trust between us. My strategy to react defensively is shifting. It’s becoming more and more evident to me that defensiveness and justifications only creates holes. The past few days when I hug Jana, I don’t get the feeling that she is embracing me out of a sense of obligation. We are healing.
I was so relieved when Jana came back home that my personal water fountains sprung to life. The girls were able to transcend their differences because there were kids involved. Extraordinary feats of relationship repair often occurs when kids are involved, but I have to wonder why can’t adults put their pride aside because of love? Why blame? Does silent treatment and hurtful burdens add anything to the lives of people in conflict?
In any case, the house is quieter, and I have been staying extra busy to alleviate sad feelings. I’m happy for Jennifer and her family. It’s wonderful that she is able to buy a house. I admire her strength everyday. I still miss her and the kids though. I miss silly conversations with Jennifer and all the ridiculous things she says. I miss playing cars and cooking with Aedan. I miss tickling Morgan, and I miss Kenley’s sweet smile. Even for though it was short the time we had together was truly special. My poor brother in law must be heart broken without them. I keep Sam in mind and think, “I can’t really complain, but sometimes I still do…”
I’ve been working on my relationship with Jana since I arrived, and I’m starting to feel the love grow. My relationship with Jana is teaching me how to love. Patience and love is building trust between us. My strategy to react defensively is shifting. It’s becoming more and more evident to me that defensiveness and justifications only creates holes. The past few days when I hug Jana, I don’t get the feeling that she is embracing me out of a sense of obligation. We are healing.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Awe
I just got home from a conference for AmeriCorps in Kansas City. I had a lovely time, and bonded with more of my amazing colleagues, but the expense of the trip concerns me. We charted a bus, and stayed in a nice Marriott in the business district. It seemed a little too classy considering we are all trying to serve people who struggle with basic needs. Perhaps deals were cut, and it wasn't as expensive, but nevertheless cost was surely incurred. Normally cost is associated with things, but the information we received at the conference wasn't so extraordinary that we needed to travel five hours and stay in a snazzy hotel.
Meeting Cameron Clapp was one exceptional thing that wouldn't have been reproducible for all of AmeriCorps Missouri without bringing us to one place. Cameron is an athlete and a triple amputee. He overcame unfathomable adversity to be where he is at. Despite the loss of his limbs, and his twin brother Cameron is extremely positive. I was completely in awe of him and I hung around afterwards just listening to him talk to other people. I asked him if their were any pole vaulters who use prosthetics, and he gave me a hug.
This sort of awe, that overcomes me has occurred before with speakers that came to campus. I never know what to say to them, but I want to interact with them. I want to somehow absorb their wonderful wisdom.
Some of the most remarkable people I have met, were dying, or nearly died once. These experiences shake a person to the core, and instill feeling that life is so precious, that their is almost nothing worthy of getting upset about. I understand this truth on an intellectual level, but my heart hasn't caught up yet. Petty things still rile me up but I'm hoping that my head and heart reconcile to a place of divine positivity sooner than later. I'd rather not cheat death or die to attain such wisdom.
Meeting Cameron Clapp was one exceptional thing that wouldn't have been reproducible for all of AmeriCorps Missouri without bringing us to one place. Cameron is an athlete and a triple amputee. He overcame unfathomable adversity to be where he is at. Despite the loss of his limbs, and his twin brother Cameron is extremely positive. I was completely in awe of him and I hung around afterwards just listening to him talk to other people. I asked him if their were any pole vaulters who use prosthetics, and he gave me a hug.
This sort of awe, that overcomes me has occurred before with speakers that came to campus. I never know what to say to them, but I want to interact with them. I want to somehow absorb their wonderful wisdom.
Some of the most remarkable people I have met, were dying, or nearly died once. These experiences shake a person to the core, and instill feeling that life is so precious, that their is almost nothing worthy of getting upset about. I understand this truth on an intellectual level, but my heart hasn't caught up yet. Petty things still rile me up but I'm hoping that my head and heart reconcile to a place of divine positivity sooner than later. I'd rather not cheat death or die to attain such wisdom.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Camping
I spent an amazing week at camp with my AmeriCorps colleagues. My favorite moments were canoeing across a lake at dusk, finding a pretty little turtle, guitar songs, sports, metaphors, and fake mustaches. I enjoyed getting to know my colleagues so much. It’s a privilege to be around such inspirational people.
It was relieving to be far from the TV for a week. After five years without a TV I’ve found that it’s really challenging to be in a house with so many loud TV’s all the time. I don’t watch TV, but it still affects the atmosphere around me.
I also loved that people were much more in the moment at camp. Nobody had to go anywhere, or call anyone. What was engaging at the moment was all that mattered weather that was chatting with a friend, listening to music, dancing, finding a stick, or eating. Living in the present for every moment is a constant aim, but I have a lot of work to do. I need to develop more strength to be present in such a plugged in world.
A struggle I faced at camp was landing the canoes and getting everyone on shore. The landing wasn’t a quiet beach as I expected, and thus I worried about getting everyone on shore dry and safe. I also worried about the crew coming after us, and if they could depart dry. Being dry and safe was certainly a concern, but it wasn’t an unsurpassable goal. In retrospect getting wet would not have been tragic, but I was worried about it. I was an active participant in getting everyone on land safely and mostly dry, so I wasn’t aware of how deeply this landing worried me. I found out though when I got a headache. I assumed this headache was provoked by hunger and thirst so I acted accordingly, which led to nausea.
After I got sick the headache and the nausea abated of it’s own accord and I was able to coherently reflect on everything that led up to the nausea. I think the sickness was a physical reaction to worry that I didn’t fully acknowledge at the moment it arrived. Since I didn’t acknowledge the worry and deal with it my body had a strong physical reaction. This is not the first time this has happened to me, and I’m starting to think that it is weakness in my character.
My body letting me know something is up usually happens in the face of two competing emotions. In the case of camping my fear and worry was competing with my joy of being in the woods and the value I place on being a tuff girl. Being worried sick was not a joyous or tuff event for sure. The other competing emotions are that I think worry is useless because everything works out in the end.
Positivity is the foundation of my ever developing philosophy on life, thus I think I must repress a lot of negative emotions. Positivity has served me well, but I’m wondering how balanced my emotional climate is. Perhaps I need strategies to accept and be fully aware of all of my emotions while moving towards more and more pos itivity. Hmmm where to go…
It was relieving to be far from the TV for a week. After five years without a TV I’ve found that it’s really challenging to be in a house with so many loud TV’s all the time. I don’t watch TV, but it still affects the atmosphere around me.
I also loved that people were much more in the moment at camp. Nobody had to go anywhere, or call anyone. What was engaging at the moment was all that mattered weather that was chatting with a friend, listening to music, dancing, finding a stick, or eating. Living in the present for every moment is a constant aim, but I have a lot of work to do. I need to develop more strength to be present in such a plugged in world.
A struggle I faced at camp was landing the canoes and getting everyone on shore. The landing wasn’t a quiet beach as I expected, and thus I worried about getting everyone on shore dry and safe. I also worried about the crew coming after us, and if they could depart dry. Being dry and safe was certainly a concern, but it wasn’t an unsurpassable goal. In retrospect getting wet would not have been tragic, but I was worried about it. I was an active participant in getting everyone on land safely and mostly dry, so I wasn’t aware of how deeply this landing worried me. I found out though when I got a headache. I assumed this headache was provoked by hunger and thirst so I acted accordingly, which led to nausea.
After I got sick the headache and the nausea abated of it’s own accord and I was able to coherently reflect on everything that led up to the nausea. I think the sickness was a physical reaction to worry that I didn’t fully acknowledge at the moment it arrived. Since I didn’t acknowledge the worry and deal with it my body had a strong physical reaction. This is not the first time this has happened to me, and I’m starting to think that it is weakness in my character.
My body letting me know something is up usually happens in the face of two competing emotions. In the case of camping my fear and worry was competing with my joy of being in the woods and the value I place on being a tuff girl. Being worried sick was not a joyous or tuff event for sure. The other competing emotions are that I think worry is useless because everything works out in the end.
Positivity is the foundation of my ever developing philosophy on life, thus I think I must repress a lot of negative emotions. Positivity has served me well, but I’m wondering how balanced my emotional climate is. Perhaps I need strategies to accept and be fully aware of all of my emotions while moving towards more and more pos itivity. Hmmm where to go…
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