Hey I just thought I would write a little blog on a memory that happened two years ago this weekend. It was one of the worst Sabbath's of my life. It was two years ago today that we got the word that our friend Doug was had died in the mountains because of a car accident and hypothermia. It is one of those days that I move through in my memory as if the air was goo...a slow motion, painful dance of sharp colors, distorted sounds and sharp edges.
There was little time for denial just too many people needing our hands and our hearts. RA & Susan, Walter, and Mom...confusion with how to deal with this when you've never faced it before. Gut felt anger at phrases like "God has a reason" or "it was meant to be". It made me want to run away screaming with my ears covered...there is no reason and this was not meant to be. It made me want to turn around and pummel them all the while asking, "HOW can you say that?" What a cruel thing to say although said with all the best intentions in the world.
Snap shots of the fall colors, the crisp air, the phone calls, the heads bent in grief. People who part of them died the day Doug died. And a person who began their path to life that very same day(here's a link to his blog from this weekend also in memory of Doug our good friend Jared Walter Read his post if you want proof that God can change things). Who would have guessed that life would be begotten by death. A broken heart soothed, a hand of friendship taken...I don't believe God had a reason or that it was meant to be...No I do not believe that. But I DO believe that He will turn our pain into something good if we allow Him. I believe that God took the evil spirit of the day and turned our mourning (after a long while) into peace.
Today the Rutkowske's, Charles and I wore our shirts commemorating Doug. A lot of people at church and potluck asked and Terry shared a small part of the story and she shared one of the blessings of Doug's life; his joy of helping others through the local Search and Rescue. I cried in my heart many times today, my eyes brimmed with tears as did Terry's as she shared a little bit of her beloved brother's life with each person who cocked their head and asked, "What's with the shirts?"
Thank you, Doug, for teaching us the beauty of God's grace and the expansiveness of His love in the most unconventional of ways.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
Thursday, October 11, 2007
It's an Exciting Day!
Hey I GOT A VERY SOLID A (94%) on my Chemistry test! WOOOHOOO! I cannot help but dance around with happiness!!! Actually several positive things happened today. (Thanks for your happy things wish Walter!)
One of COURSE was the Chem test!
The second was I was able to understand some of the troubles that were dogging my Phyiscs experience. That is the beauty of working through some of these problems with my good Friend. He helps peel back the layers and exposes things at times when I am ready to deal with them.
There is some history missing for some of you on that last post so I will try to sum it up quickly there has been some extreme incongruity between my knowledge in Physics and the grade on the tests I am getting.
One is that the tutors I have been seeing have been telling me I know the material and don't need tutors.
Two is that I have tutored quite a few other people in my class and help them come to a better understanding which means I have a good grasp on the material.
Three is that there is another girl in my class who has a good understanding of the material and is getting low test scores just like I have.
I knew all this and my tests still depressed me...it is that dragon...pushing me...my best was not enough. I could know it but if I got a C or D on the test I was not good enough.
With all that information and some recent experience unofficially tutoring my Chemistry classmates (and taking note of the fundamental reasons they were having trouble) I was able to quantify some things I have been struggling with in Physics.
CONFIDENCE: I have noticed after my tests my confidence in my abilities is at rock bottom and I cannot do the simplest problems in the homework. So part of my problem is a severe lack of confidence in my knowledge. When I can sit down and explain a problem that has stumped me to the tutor the first time I try...it tells me I lack confidence because the tutor gives me confidence that she will correct me if I am wrong and I am not often wrong.
KNOWING WHAT TO FILTER: Often teachers get excited and they give WAY more in-depth information that I need to know. Part of the process of learning is blocking the extraneous confusing info and getting the useful information. All that extra information was confusing me when I look at the problems.
SIMPLIFY MY APPROACH: Often I allow my brain to wonder, "well man that looks complicated...maybe I need to worry about this or that...how would I do that" when we haven't been taught about those things. Instead I should be taking the tools I have been given and assuming the problem can be solved easily with the tools I have and then applying them. I make the questions complicated and confuse myself.
Today I sat down and did all the Physics homework with only minor help and it all made sense and was easy just as it should be.
YEY! Thanks be to God...there is HOPE! My heart is lighter today than it has been in a very long time.
One of COURSE was the Chem test!
The second was I was able to understand some of the troubles that were dogging my Phyiscs experience. That is the beauty of working through some of these problems with my good Friend. He helps peel back the layers and exposes things at times when I am ready to deal with them.
There is some history missing for some of you on that last post so I will try to sum it up quickly there has been some extreme incongruity between my knowledge in Physics and the grade on the tests I am getting.
One is that the tutors I have been seeing have been telling me I know the material and don't need tutors.
Two is that I have tutored quite a few other people in my class and help them come to a better understanding which means I have a good grasp on the material.
Three is that there is another girl in my class who has a good understanding of the material and is getting low test scores just like I have.
I knew all this and my tests still depressed me...it is that dragon...pushing me...my best was not enough. I could know it but if I got a C or D on the test I was not good enough.
With all that information and some recent experience unofficially tutoring my Chemistry classmates (and taking note of the fundamental reasons they were having trouble) I was able to quantify some things I have been struggling with in Physics.
CONFIDENCE: I have noticed after my tests my confidence in my abilities is at rock bottom and I cannot do the simplest problems in the homework. So part of my problem is a severe lack of confidence in my knowledge. When I can sit down and explain a problem that has stumped me to the tutor the first time I try...it tells me I lack confidence because the tutor gives me confidence that she will correct me if I am wrong and I am not often wrong.
KNOWING WHAT TO FILTER: Often teachers get excited and they give WAY more in-depth information that I need to know. Part of the process of learning is blocking the extraneous confusing info and getting the useful information. All that extra information was confusing me when I look at the problems.
SIMPLIFY MY APPROACH: Often I allow my brain to wonder, "well man that looks complicated...maybe I need to worry about this or that...how would I do that" when we haven't been taught about those things. Instead I should be taking the tools I have been given and assuming the problem can be solved easily with the tools I have and then applying them. I make the questions complicated and confuse myself.
Today I sat down and did all the Physics homework with only minor help and it all made sense and was easy just as it should be.
YEY! Thanks be to God...there is HOPE! My heart is lighter today than it has been in a very long time.
Monday, October 8, 2007
What I Love Destroys Me
This post has been awhile in the making a lifetime actually. No, it didn't take me that long to write but it has taken me that long to experience.
It started when I was born. But my first run in with my love was in 5th grade. "How romantic", some may say. And others scoff knowingly and remind me, "you did not know Charles in 5th grade!" Ahh you are right. But often our deepest love affairs are with what is lurking inside. But you are getting me ahead of myself.
It was a bright sunny Upper Michigan day and I sat at my desk doing my homework. My permed hair carefully curled to impress and my big pink glasses perched on my nose. It is hard to say what happened, I don't even really know the details I just know the outcome. I made a mistake. If I remember right I made a mistake in my homework and got something wrong. And you know I got corrected, privately and kindly. But you see, this little girl with pink glasses was decent kid and she didn't get into much trouble in fact very little and she could not accept that fact that she had made a mistake.
Later, Mrs Edsell, talked with my mom and said this, "Heather doesn't make many mistakes, she always gets A's. She has always been a good child and has never had to face up to the fact that she is fallible." And I was given a peek at the little dragon that nested in my heart. But being a good kid and getting A's is never something to draw much bad attention to a person so I covered the little dragon and put it to bed. Every A I got, every praise, every accolade was food to this cute little dragon.
So the little girl in pink glasses grew. I got rid of the nerdy glasses and got contacts. I changed schools, changed houses and changed friends. Yet the little dragon stayed with me never far from my heart.
I graduated college and got a job. Jobs as a general rule have a lot of food for dragons of this sort. And this job was no exception to that rule. In fact, the food for my little dragon was so nourishing that it grew silently and swiftly without my taking note. You see by that time I had a severe fondness, perhaps love for this sweet little dragon that brought me joy.
Slowly, I found my joy was leaving, sucked out. My frustration, temper and anger grew into replace the peace and quiet in my soul. Burnout. Never a depressed person I faced bouts of depression. And I kept feeding the dragon. Charles would ask me to come home on time so we could spend time together and I chose to work late feeding my dragon. I didn't feel I chose, things just happened and came up but I did choose and I kept mothering that dragon.
So the girl grew more and things changed. I changed houses and lives; I have a dream, a dream I believe was given me by God. I started school again. My back and neck still ached, my temper was one thread from releasing and I had very little peace.
You see I believes a person can do anything they set their mind to doing. And if I am not succeeding it is because there is something wrong with me that I must change. Well school delt me some rough cards. But I picked them up, betted and played knowing I was already in trouble. But I kept playing because if I try hard enough and pray enough I can win.
Well that brings us up to the last few weeks. Anger with God was mounting. I should be getting A's or B's to get into graduate school and the harder I played and more devoted I became to my studies the worse I did. God did not pick up the slack and make it all better. I became angry at Him. He gave me this dream what is His deal? I became angry with myself because I was not good enough. I began to feel the pain of failure. That dragon went into a rage. It drove me to ignore all else but this one class. I was giving all I had, and it wasn't enough, yet the unseen dragon drove me forward. The dragon unwittingly drove me to my knees.
It was on my knees I found the answer. A small voice over the roar of the dragon exposed to me what life would be at the mercy of the dragon. Perhaps you can come to the same conclusions yourself if I ask you..."If this girl is self-hating because of a couple failures (to her a failure is a C) on her test, what will happen when a patient dies and she has done everything she can?" "Or even worse what if someone is harmed or dies because of her mistake?" These are the questions plied to my mind as I sat broken in a corner of a building drowning in a pool of self recrimination. The dragon still unnoticed drove me into a fury at the little voice. "WHY didn't You help me, God?". And then, God comes down and hugs the trembling little girl in the pink glasses and while she listens for His answer He says, "You have to learn this and it is not so painful now as it could be in the future."
It isn't over. You see I find myself falling at the feet of my Friend every morning begging for freedom from the dragon. The dragon that will destroy me. I failed again on a test last week, a D this time. It left me again, a heap of tears. I called my mom and Mom talked me through my self destructive voice of hate the insidiously reminds me I am not good enough and must be stupid. Mom guides her to a forgotten story of the little girl in pink glasses who could not fail. And then as I quietly wait again with tenderness God pulls the scales from my eyes and the dragon, poised and ready to take all from me is unveiled again. This time I am not angry. I am thankful. Thankful that God has chosen to reveal this to me now.
Does that mean I won't be a Dr? No, it doesn't. I have dropped the class to audit status to protect my GPA and I will have the privilege of learning without the pressure. In reality, this fight with my love, the dragon of my life, has just begun. And every day I try to choose to sacrifice my drive for perfection. I am sometimes afraid to destroy the dragon because I am afraid that I will lose something. I fear that I will be less than I could be. But that is a lie! The problem with my dragon is that "my best" is never good enough. It takes and takes and the more I pour in the more it demands. So as you see I will really be gaining a lot and losing very little. But the fight isn't over for me. The dragon has been with me a long time and it will take time and prayer to remove my pet from my life.
It started when I was born. But my first run in with my love was in 5th grade. "How romantic", some may say. And others scoff knowingly and remind me, "you did not know Charles in 5th grade!" Ahh you are right. But often our deepest love affairs are with what is lurking inside. But you are getting me ahead of myself.
It was a bright sunny Upper Michigan day and I sat at my desk doing my homework. My permed hair carefully curled to impress and my big pink glasses perched on my nose. It is hard to say what happened, I don't even really know the details I just know the outcome. I made a mistake. If I remember right I made a mistake in my homework and got something wrong. And you know I got corrected, privately and kindly. But you see, this little girl with pink glasses was decent kid and she didn't get into much trouble in fact very little and she could not accept that fact that she had made a mistake.
Later, Mrs Edsell, talked with my mom and said this, "Heather doesn't make many mistakes, she always gets A's. She has always been a good child and has never had to face up to the fact that she is fallible." And I was given a peek at the little dragon that nested in my heart. But being a good kid and getting A's is never something to draw much bad attention to a person so I covered the little dragon and put it to bed. Every A I got, every praise, every accolade was food to this cute little dragon.
So the little girl in pink glasses grew. I got rid of the nerdy glasses and got contacts. I changed schools, changed houses and changed friends. Yet the little dragon stayed with me never far from my heart.
I graduated college and got a job. Jobs as a general rule have a lot of food for dragons of this sort. And this job was no exception to that rule. In fact, the food for my little dragon was so nourishing that it grew silently and swiftly without my taking note. You see by that time I had a severe fondness, perhaps love for this sweet little dragon that brought me joy.
Slowly, I found my joy was leaving, sucked out. My frustration, temper and anger grew into replace the peace and quiet in my soul. Burnout. Never a depressed person I faced bouts of depression. And I kept feeding the dragon. Charles would ask me to come home on time so we could spend time together and I chose to work late feeding my dragon. I didn't feel I chose, things just happened and came up but I did choose and I kept mothering that dragon.
So the girl grew more and things changed. I changed houses and lives; I have a dream, a dream I believe was given me by God. I started school again. My back and neck still ached, my temper was one thread from releasing and I had very little peace.
You see I believes a person can do anything they set their mind to doing. And if I am not succeeding it is because there is something wrong with me that I must change. Well school delt me some rough cards. But I picked them up, betted and played knowing I was already in trouble. But I kept playing because if I try hard enough and pray enough I can win.
Well that brings us up to the last few weeks. Anger with God was mounting. I should be getting A's or B's to get into graduate school and the harder I played and more devoted I became to my studies the worse I did. God did not pick up the slack and make it all better. I became angry at Him. He gave me this dream what is His deal? I became angry with myself because I was not good enough. I began to feel the pain of failure. That dragon went into a rage. It drove me to ignore all else but this one class. I was giving all I had, and it wasn't enough, yet the unseen dragon drove me forward. The dragon unwittingly drove me to my knees.
It was on my knees I found the answer. A small voice over the roar of the dragon exposed to me what life would be at the mercy of the dragon. Perhaps you can come to the same conclusions yourself if I ask you..."If this girl is self-hating because of a couple failures (to her a failure is a C) on her test, what will happen when a patient dies and she has done everything she can?" "Or even worse what if someone is harmed or dies because of her mistake?" These are the questions plied to my mind as I sat broken in a corner of a building drowning in a pool of self recrimination. The dragon still unnoticed drove me into a fury at the little voice. "WHY didn't You help me, God?". And then, God comes down and hugs the trembling little girl in the pink glasses and while she listens for His answer He says, "You have to learn this and it is not so painful now as it could be in the future."
It isn't over. You see I find myself falling at the feet of my Friend every morning begging for freedom from the dragon. The dragon that will destroy me. I failed again on a test last week, a D this time. It left me again, a heap of tears. I called my mom and Mom talked me through my self destructive voice of hate the insidiously reminds me I am not good enough and must be stupid. Mom guides her to a forgotten story of the little girl in pink glasses who could not fail. And then as I quietly wait again with tenderness God pulls the scales from my eyes and the dragon, poised and ready to take all from me is unveiled again. This time I am not angry. I am thankful. Thankful that God has chosen to reveal this to me now.
Does that mean I won't be a Dr? No, it doesn't. I have dropped the class to audit status to protect my GPA and I will have the privilege of learning without the pressure. In reality, this fight with my love, the dragon of my life, has just begun. And every day I try to choose to sacrifice my drive for perfection. I am sometimes afraid to destroy the dragon because I am afraid that I will lose something. I fear that I will be less than I could be. But that is a lie! The problem with my dragon is that "my best" is never good enough. It takes and takes and the more I pour in the more it demands. So as you see I will really be gaining a lot and losing very little. But the fight isn't over for me. The dragon has been with me a long time and it will take time and prayer to remove my pet from my life.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Splattered with Equations
Well I am into my second week of school. *wiggling fingers and toes* yep still alive. Yep the teachers are doing more than reading the syllabus in class so it is the real thing.
I have never studied so hard in my life. In the past I have taken 14+ hrs and still had free time now I have 8hrs and am busy all the time. Yesterday I caught myself reading my textbook while I walked between classes. And amazingly it is no exaggeration that I am studying every waking hour. Yes I do take breaks. One of those times is usually walking between classes! :D
Breaks are essential in my learning I am finding out. If I do not take them I find my brain begins to pretend it is stupid. Such as the other day after 3 hours straight of physics problems I started to not be able to make out the most simple question. I looked up at Charles in real terror and said that I ought to go get checked for a learning disability cause I can't make out what is going on in this simple question. He kindly told me that maybe I should take a break and eat food. Yep...what a miracle a break and food can be. My mind hummed along storing and retrieving information like normal. WHEW!
Let's see. Physics a very interesting subject but my most difficult and is made even more difficult by the stereotypical professor who cannot teach simple concepts. He likes to complicate them with algebraic equations that mysteriously lose and gain numbers and units with a whisk of an erasure or a jot of a pen and no explanation but this endless of muttering which is mostly numbers and letters not sentences. (YES I sit in the front row even.)
I am narrowing down why people look at me weird when I walk out of class. It is either because I have a terrorized, stunned, deer-in-the-headlights look. Or it could be I have discarded remnants of algebraic equations all over my face that have splattered me as they are used and discarded in the frenzy of activity at the white board. I also wonder if my hair will get frizzy like Einstein's because of all the heat my brain is generating to catch up to "uber physics genius dr professor guy".
Fortunately, I have found the tutoring center and have a down to earth chemical physicist that is a friend of ours who will take the time to carefully explain things to me. I will also go spend some quality time with my professor in his office. He really does seem to be a nice fellow. Perhaps just not cut out for undergraduate entry level physics.
The Physics tests will be in the same format as the MCAT (not on purpose it just happened that way) and although they are going to be difficult if I can master them, the experience will go along way to helping me with the MCAT. So I am thankful for that and the information in physics is interesting and that helps a lot for me.
Chemistry, so far, is fairly easy for me. I have had several chemistry courses and taught some high school chemistry so I don't expect too much drama from this class. The teacher is excellent and very open.
All in all I think it will be a good semester. Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers because I am concerned about my physics course it is a bit overwhelming.
I have never studied so hard in my life. In the past I have taken 14+ hrs and still had free time now I have 8hrs and am busy all the time. Yesterday I caught myself reading my textbook while I walked between classes. And amazingly it is no exaggeration that I am studying every waking hour. Yes I do take breaks. One of those times is usually walking between classes! :D
Breaks are essential in my learning I am finding out. If I do not take them I find my brain begins to pretend it is stupid. Such as the other day after 3 hours straight of physics problems I started to not be able to make out the most simple question. I looked up at Charles in real terror and said that I ought to go get checked for a learning disability cause I can't make out what is going on in this simple question. He kindly told me that maybe I should take a break and eat food. Yep...what a miracle a break and food can be. My mind hummed along storing and retrieving information like normal. WHEW!
Let's see. Physics a very interesting subject but my most difficult and is made even more difficult by the stereotypical professor who cannot teach simple concepts. He likes to complicate them with algebraic equations that mysteriously lose and gain numbers and units with a whisk of an erasure or a jot of a pen and no explanation but this endless of muttering which is mostly numbers and letters not sentences. (YES I sit in the front row even.)
I am narrowing down why people look at me weird when I walk out of class. It is either because I have a terrorized, stunned, deer-in-the-headlights look. Or it could be I have discarded remnants of algebraic equations all over my face that have splattered me as they are used and discarded in the frenzy of activity at the white board. I also wonder if my hair will get frizzy like Einstein's because of all the heat my brain is generating to catch up to "uber physics genius dr professor guy".
Fortunately, I have found the tutoring center and have a down to earth chemical physicist that is a friend of ours who will take the time to carefully explain things to me. I will also go spend some quality time with my professor in his office. He really does seem to be a nice fellow. Perhaps just not cut out for undergraduate entry level physics.
The Physics tests will be in the same format as the MCAT (not on purpose it just happened that way) and although they are going to be difficult if I can master them, the experience will go along way to helping me with the MCAT. So I am thankful for that and the information in physics is interesting and that helps a lot for me.
Chemistry, so far, is fairly easy for me. I have had several chemistry courses and taught some high school chemistry so I don't expect too much drama from this class. The teacher is excellent and very open.
All in all I think it will be a good semester. Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers because I am concerned about my physics course it is a bit overwhelming.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
A Glimpse from a Trimbling Limb
The deed has been done, the seeds sown, the lot has been cast. However you want to look at it I am headed to school starting Aug 22, 2007. For me it is triumph over doubt and a trip through serious self-examination. I have set my foot on the path and the way is forward.
Ok people go to school every year what's the drama. You're right. Oddly between 2001 and 2007 it became harder. I grew up, experienced the "real world" if you will, fought the noose of debt and didn't fully win. But you know what? I am excited to report I am a lot closer to winning debt than when I started.
At 31 years old God has given my husband and me the ability to have a home free of any lien or mortgage. He has also blessed me with a lot of spiritually deep family, friends and co-workers that helped me grow in my own spirituality. He also carried me through some mentally tough situations and in so doing added depth to my soul and humbleness to my spirit. (yeh He still has work to do on me!!!)
In my "My Space" site is a quote that embodies the only fear I wish to have in my life -
"I wish to fear not death but to fear life without truly living. Because is there a worse death then such?"
When at the call of God you step out on a limb and abandon yourself to a dream, the sprig shakes and the leaves fall around you. But the vision beyond the protected branches is worth the instability of the trembling twig.
What is your dream?
Ok people go to school every year what's the drama. You're right. Oddly between 2001 and 2007 it became harder. I grew up, experienced the "real world" if you will, fought the noose of debt and didn't fully win. But you know what? I am excited to report I am a lot closer to winning debt than when I started.
At 31 years old God has given my husband and me the ability to have a home free of any lien or mortgage. He has also blessed me with a lot of spiritually deep family, friends and co-workers that helped me grow in my own spirituality. He also carried me through some mentally tough situations and in so doing added depth to my soul and humbleness to my spirit. (yeh He still has work to do on me!!!)
In my "My Space" site is a quote that embodies the only fear I wish to have in my life -
"I wish to fear not death but to fear life without truly living. Because is there a worse death then such?"
When at the call of God you step out on a limb and abandon yourself to a dream, the sprig shakes and the leaves fall around you. But the vision beyond the protected branches is worth the instability of the trembling twig.
What is your dream?
Monday, July 9, 2007
A New Way to View Fireworks
Hmm too much has happened since my last post. July 4 was spectacular. Why? Well I was able to indulge my pyro tendencies and watch the fire works from the happening side. And better than that my mom was here.
We spent part of the day getting Mom a computer case, then we went to Rutkowski's for "linner" (Lunch X Dinner) and I skimmed their pool for bugs while I swam...that always keeps me busy. Strange habit? I guess I like to save the ones I can and make sure the dead ones don't get on me. Then we took off for Winston-Salem, a Warthog (I could go off about that name) game and fireworks. Jason Rutkowski helps set off professional fire works shows.
I don't have the photos imported yet but the unexploded fireworks looked different then I expected. Humble brown paper cones from 2"-4" with names like orange fury and green lightening. It was very cool. There were racks of pipes that they had ALL of the fireworks loaded into and their wicks like brightly color tails over the edge of each pipe. We sat around and ate more watermelon and waited for 9pm or the end of the game if it went past 9pm.
....as I stare off into space, rock slowly and reminisce...
Eric and I were crazy about fire. When we were younger one of our jobs was to take out the trash and burn it. Truly I don't believe Mom or Dad ever had to nag us about that one. We would melt bags on sticks and little fire bombs would drip slowly off the deforming bag creating meyham and destruction where ever it landed...if you were the size of a bug. And no we never harmed little bugs knowingly but Eric and I both have scars on our hands where our little plastic bombs hit us instead of the ground.
Good times.
As the fireworks began the smell of sulfer and smoke filled my nose and a smile spread onto my face. Over and over forms would bend down, light the fuses and run a few steps away. A great flash of blazing orange light would explode from the pipe and a delicate fairy trail of light would shoot to the sky. Several times twinkly sparks would rain down around us and people would dance erratically to dodge each little searing ember.
The finale was 3 crates full of pipes each laden with a 3 or 4" shell and each fuse precisely coupled with the fuse next to it. Many of my photographs look white hot in the center with countless red tentacles trailing away. It was a wondrous cacophony of whistles and thunderous roars.
We rode home with Terry and Randy. Randy voice was a soft hum in my ears as he discussed, all the way home, a new breast cancer drug with Mom. My eyes were weighty with sleep.
Ahhh the perfect ending to the 4th of July!
We spent part of the day getting Mom a computer case, then we went to Rutkowski's for "linner" (Lunch X Dinner) and I skimmed their pool for bugs while I swam...that always keeps me busy. Strange habit? I guess I like to save the ones I can and make sure the dead ones don't get on me. Then we took off for Winston-Salem, a Warthog (I could go off about that name) game and fireworks. Jason Rutkowski helps set off professional fire works shows.
I don't have the photos imported yet but the unexploded fireworks looked different then I expected. Humble brown paper cones from 2"-4" with names like orange fury and green lightening. It was very cool. There were racks of pipes that they had ALL of the fireworks loaded into and their wicks like brightly color tails over the edge of each pipe. We sat around and ate more watermelon and waited for 9pm or the end of the game if it went past 9pm.
....as I stare off into space, rock slowly and reminisce...
Eric and I were crazy about fire. When we were younger one of our jobs was to take out the trash and burn it. Truly I don't believe Mom or Dad ever had to nag us about that one. We would melt bags on sticks and little fire bombs would drip slowly off the deforming bag creating meyham and destruction where ever it landed...if you were the size of a bug. And no we never harmed little bugs knowingly but Eric and I both have scars on our hands where our little plastic bombs hit us instead of the ground.
Good times.
As the fireworks began the smell of sulfer and smoke filled my nose and a smile spread onto my face. Over and over forms would bend down, light the fuses and run a few steps away. A great flash of blazing orange light would explode from the pipe and a delicate fairy trail of light would shoot to the sky. Several times twinkly sparks would rain down around us and people would dance erratically to dodge each little searing ember.
The finale was 3 crates full of pipes each laden with a 3 or 4" shell and each fuse precisely coupled with the fuse next to it. Many of my photographs look white hot in the center with countless red tentacles trailing away. It was a wondrous cacophony of whistles and thunderous roars.
We rode home with Terry and Randy. Randy voice was a soft hum in my ears as he discussed, all the way home, a new breast cancer drug with Mom. My eyes were weighty with sleep.
Ahhh the perfect ending to the 4th of July!
Tuesday, July 3, 2007
Just a Thought
Some people are like Slinkies - Not really good for anything, but will bring a smile to your face when pushed down the stairs.
This amused me heavily today. Enjoy the deep thought.
This amused me heavily today. Enjoy the deep thought.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Intimate Acquaintance with Poison Ivy
Every had poison ivy? Not me...before now anyway.
Well for the last two weeks I have been gaining an intimate knowledge of poison ivy reactions.
A couple Sabbath's ago I went strolling with my dearest in the UNC Botanical garden. It was a lovely day looking at the most common and rarest of plants. Bladder Ferns or carnivorous plants, anyone? We played with a sensitive plant, making its little leaves close up with a gentle brush. We even got to sit and listen to what we call "rubber band" frogs. Hold a fat rubber band extremely taut and *twang* it. That is the sound the frog makes.
We had identified poison ivy through out the gardens in the more "brushy" and "wild" parts. But we didn't go wondering off the trail so we didn't think much of it.
Ha, maybe we should have!
Tuesday last week I found myself digging at my neck while I worked at the computer. Yep a big old rash on the underside of my chin and left side of my neck. Then it showed up on my lip. Later that week it swelled up my left ear something fierce. My ear stopped having delicate little folds and became a festering red lump of flesh.
Nice.
But from pictures I saw online I didn't get it HALF as bad as some people have. :)
The excitement of a new place!
Wonder if I will come out infected with it head to toe when backpacking. Guess we'll see. :D Hopefully we can go backpacking a couple weeks from now.
Well for the last two weeks I have been gaining an intimate knowledge of poison ivy reactions.
A couple Sabbath's ago I went strolling with my dearest in the UNC Botanical garden. It was a lovely day looking at the most common and rarest of plants. Bladder Ferns or carnivorous plants, anyone? We played with a sensitive plant, making its little leaves close up with a gentle brush. We even got to sit and listen to what we call "rubber band" frogs. Hold a fat rubber band extremely taut and *twang* it. That is the sound the frog makes.
We had identified poison ivy through out the gardens in the more "brushy" and "wild" parts. But we didn't go wondering off the trail so we didn't think much of it.
Ha, maybe we should have!
Tuesday last week I found myself digging at my neck while I worked at the computer. Yep a big old rash on the underside of my chin and left side of my neck. Then it showed up on my lip. Later that week it swelled up my left ear something fierce. My ear stopped having delicate little folds and became a festering red lump of flesh.
Nice.
But from pictures I saw online I didn't get it HALF as bad as some people have. :)
The excitement of a new place!
Wonder if I will come out infected with it head to toe when backpacking. Guess we'll see. :D Hopefully we can go backpacking a couple weeks from now.
Friday, June 15, 2007
Persian Girls or Yelling Dads
What to write about...? And Walter you are right...all these heavy topics, what is up with that? But for some reason a lot of stuff that is making me think keeps happening. Now I have to decide what to write about...the book I read, Persian Girls, or about the outraged father this morning. I think I will go with the outraged father and talk about the book Persian Girls later. The father is much fresher and more now.
You see, we live near a tennis court. In fact it is right out our back windows and over the fence. We can watch people play or chase the ball...depending on their skill level, most of the day any day. Recently, blame it on the phase of the moon, the air quality or the level of heat there has been a lot of fighting on the courts.
There is a father, we assume, that brings his 3 little boys to teach them how to play tennis. The boys are aged from 10-7. They all, father included, have matching outfits, matching tennis raquets, matching tennis bags and for all I know matching underwear...mind you I haven't checked.
It was cute, until the father opened his mouth. The last couple of days that he has been out there with the boys he has been berating them verbally, and loudly for not "getting it". It has been slowly getting worse and worse.
Today was no exception. This morning they came and it was only the two older boys and the "dad". For awhile you heard the plunk, plunk of them playing tennis and then the father would lose it and just light into one of the little kids.
I began to be really upset with "dad". It is bad enough to have to deal with people that lose their temper at my work but to have to listen to people scream at their small boys cause they don't hit their "back handed slice" just so with their knees just so was getting old and really getting on my nerves. But what do you do? It is a public park. So I prayed as I continued to get ready for church, make up, dress, heels, hair. Charles went in to take a shower.
i came out of the bathroom in time to hear the father scream as if he had short circuited every thought in his messed up brain at his child, "STUPID, STUPID, STUPID, STUPID!!!!!!!!!!" THAT WAS IT, I COULD NOT TAKE IT ANY LONGER. I began to shake from the anger and the adrenaline pumping through my body. I wanted to run out and drag him off the court. He was out of control, clearly out of his mind and exploding with anger. I feared for the children.
Instead I was propelled out the door by a force inside of me and into the breeze way where I had a clear shot of the court. I didn't know what to say. I stood there so angry I could not stop shaking. I didn't have to say anything. Surprisingly, the father was walking on the court toward me and saw me standing on the breezeway. My body must have radiated how I felt because he looked at me and said, "Sorry". Out of the depths of my throat came this forceful, "THANK YOU!". It sounded as if I were speaking to a three year old and in that thankyou was wrapped a thinly veiled threat that if you dare do it again... It was surprising how I sounded. I pray to God he thinks of who he is and what he is doing to his children.
Back in the house, I paced shaking and shaking. I fell on my knees begging God to help that man learn. The one boy is already yelling at his father back, the other sits with his head on his knees. It burns me up to think of the future of those boys. In the end I spent a good deal of the time crying. Crying from frustration, helplessness, pain and fear.
Charles was kind and hugged me and I got pulled together enough to go to church. I told Charles the "father" probably doesn't have a wife any more and felt he deserved that to pay for his bad temper.
While I was at church I was talking with God and partially listening to the sermon :( But God reminded me that He does not enjoy the punishment of the wicked. That in the end He does not revel in them "getting what they earned" but it causes Him immense pain to see His children suffer. (Thank you Mom for getting this process started). Did I love that man? Would it make me sad to see him loose his wife and children? I honestly had to say no I don't care about the man and he deserved to have those things happen to him. And right then and there God reminded me that I need Him. He is the only one that will give me the heart to see the out of control abusive father as He did. As a child of God. That man a child of GOD!?!?! Yep. Does that mean that man should not be told he is wrong? Nah. Should there be no consequence for sin. Nah God doesn't even espouse that belief. But could I talk to that man and tell him he was wrong with the love of God exuding from my soul? Now there is a change of heart.
By the way, while we were there, he never yelled at his children like that again. And I thank God He had the man look at me while I stood there and I don't know what I looked like but somehow God got the message to him that what he was doing was unacceptable. But did he curse them quietly...anyone's guess.
This is another thing where I wonder what other people think. This will happen again...what would you do next time?
You see, we live near a tennis court. In fact it is right out our back windows and over the fence. We can watch people play or chase the ball...depending on their skill level, most of the day any day. Recently, blame it on the phase of the moon, the air quality or the level of heat there has been a lot of fighting on the courts.
There is a father, we assume, that brings his 3 little boys to teach them how to play tennis. The boys are aged from 10-7. They all, father included, have matching outfits, matching tennis raquets, matching tennis bags and for all I know matching underwear...mind you I haven't checked.
It was cute, until the father opened his mouth. The last couple of days that he has been out there with the boys he has been berating them verbally, and loudly for not "getting it". It has been slowly getting worse and worse.
Today was no exception. This morning they came and it was only the two older boys and the "dad". For awhile you heard the plunk, plunk of them playing tennis and then the father would lose it and just light into one of the little kids.
I began to be really upset with "dad". It is bad enough to have to deal with people that lose their temper at my work but to have to listen to people scream at their small boys cause they don't hit their "back handed slice" just so with their knees just so was getting old and really getting on my nerves. But what do you do? It is a public park. So I prayed as I continued to get ready for church, make up, dress, heels, hair. Charles went in to take a shower.
i came out of the bathroom in time to hear the father scream as if he had short circuited every thought in his messed up brain at his child, "STUPID, STUPID, STUPID, STUPID!!!!!!!!!!" THAT WAS IT, I COULD NOT TAKE IT ANY LONGER. I began to shake from the anger and the adrenaline pumping through my body. I wanted to run out and drag him off the court. He was out of control, clearly out of his mind and exploding with anger. I feared for the children.
Instead I was propelled out the door by a force inside of me and into the breeze way where I had a clear shot of the court. I didn't know what to say. I stood there so angry I could not stop shaking. I didn't have to say anything. Surprisingly, the father was walking on the court toward me and saw me standing on the breezeway. My body must have radiated how I felt because he looked at me and said, "Sorry". Out of the depths of my throat came this forceful, "THANK YOU!". It sounded as if I were speaking to a three year old and in that thankyou was wrapped a thinly veiled threat that if you dare do it again... It was surprising how I sounded. I pray to God he thinks of who he is and what he is doing to his children.
Back in the house, I paced shaking and shaking. I fell on my knees begging God to help that man learn. The one boy is already yelling at his father back, the other sits with his head on his knees. It burns me up to think of the future of those boys. In the end I spent a good deal of the time crying. Crying from frustration, helplessness, pain and fear.
Charles was kind and hugged me and I got pulled together enough to go to church. I told Charles the "father" probably doesn't have a wife any more and felt he deserved that to pay for his bad temper.
While I was at church I was talking with God and partially listening to the sermon :( But God reminded me that He does not enjoy the punishment of the wicked. That in the end He does not revel in them "getting what they earned" but it causes Him immense pain to see His children suffer. (Thank you Mom for getting this process started). Did I love that man? Would it make me sad to see him loose his wife and children? I honestly had to say no I don't care about the man and he deserved to have those things happen to him. And right then and there God reminded me that I need Him. He is the only one that will give me the heart to see the out of control abusive father as He did. As a child of God. That man a child of GOD!?!?! Yep. Does that mean that man should not be told he is wrong? Nah. Should there be no consequence for sin. Nah God doesn't even espouse that belief. But could I talk to that man and tell him he was wrong with the love of God exuding from my soul? Now there is a change of heart.
By the way, while we were there, he never yelled at his children like that again. And I thank God He had the man look at me while I stood there and I don't know what I looked like but somehow God got the message to him that what he was doing was unacceptable. But did he curse them quietly...anyone's guess.
This is another thing where I wonder what other people think. This will happen again...what would you do next time?
Thursday, June 7, 2007
The Deserving Poor
I had emailed the ACLU to find out if they were supporting SHAC 7 in their fight for their 1st amendment rights. If nothing else I figured that they might have more information not based on hearsay. They wrote me back to search their website - which I had - but I tried more and still came up with nothing so I wrote them back looking for some more fruitful search strings. Currently I haven't heard anything back. But the ACLU is fairly well organized and should have some "bother your congressman about this" emails a person could send out. So I will let you know what I find out.
It is interesting here in Durham. They have officially "ok'd" beggers that wait in the median at stop lights. When the light is red they have a captive audience. From what I hear they go to the city offices and get the green light (no pun intended) to beg by the stop lights. They are given a reflective vest and are allowed to be there during the day.
How do you feel about beggers? They create a cacophony of feelings inside my chest. Even having them beside my car makes me so uncomfortable with myself, that I will choose the left turning lane furthest from them just so I don't have to grapple with my confusion. Should I or shouldn't I look at them and what I should or shouldn't do for them. I am pathetic. They confuse me. What is my duty, do I have a duty, where does a person draw the line?
Some are on crutches, some are without a leg, some look like construction workers, some slowly hobble to the cars to get the handouts. Some are shaggy, greasy looking while others are clean and neat.
This is something I have struggled with since Cambodia.
There, I became hardened and at one point caught myself laughing at the expense of one of the beggers...I became nauseated, the bile filled my throat, disgusted with who I had become.
Now I avert my eyes. Pretend I don't see.
I have seen people, who are physically in worse shape than most of these people working a 40 hr week. Just because you don't have a leg doesn't mean you can't type...it seems that perhaps some of them suffer from mental conditions...some are lazy...some aren't poor at all, but I guess the screening process is supposed to weed those from the group.
It is fun to help the poor, the "deserving" (according to my book) poor. But God sends the sun, rain and clouds to the deserving and undeserving. He asks us to care for the poor (deserving and undeserving?). There are food stamps and housing programs for the poor, why aren't they on those? What do you think? Someday this question will be settled in my mind it is one of those questions it works on quite a bit...how about yours?
It is interesting here in Durham. They have officially "ok'd" beggers that wait in the median at stop lights. When the light is red they have a captive audience. From what I hear they go to the city offices and get the green light (no pun intended) to beg by the stop lights. They are given a reflective vest and are allowed to be there during the day.
How do you feel about beggers? They create a cacophony of feelings inside my chest. Even having them beside my car makes me so uncomfortable with myself, that I will choose the left turning lane furthest from them just so I don't have to grapple with my confusion. Should I or shouldn't I look at them and what I should or shouldn't do for them. I am pathetic. They confuse me. What is my duty, do I have a duty, where does a person draw the line?
Some are on crutches, some are without a leg, some look like construction workers, some slowly hobble to the cars to get the handouts. Some are shaggy, greasy looking while others are clean and neat.
This is something I have struggled with since Cambodia.
There, I became hardened and at one point caught myself laughing at the expense of one of the beggers...I became nauseated, the bile filled my throat, disgusted with who I had become.
Now I avert my eyes. Pretend I don't see.
I have seen people, who are physically in worse shape than most of these people working a 40 hr week. Just because you don't have a leg doesn't mean you can't type...it seems that perhaps some of them suffer from mental conditions...some are lazy...some aren't poor at all, but I guess the screening process is supposed to weed those from the group.
It is fun to help the poor, the "deserving" (according to my book) poor. But God sends the sun, rain and clouds to the deserving and undeserving. He asks us to care for the poor (deserving and undeserving?). There are food stamps and housing programs for the poor, why aren't they on those? What do you think? Someday this question will be settled in my mind it is one of those questions it works on quite a bit...how about yours?
Sunday, June 3, 2007
Thankful for My Nature
This morning I was reading in James. There have been a lot of times, as of late, that I have really complained loudly to God about that fact that I remain attracted to sin after declaring my loyalty to Him. That I still get irritated with Charles or even look uncharitably at old friends who are lying to cover their hurtful and evil tracks.
While reading James 1 it hit me like a load of bricks. In essence he is saying to me, "Heather, thank God when you are tempted (and heck nothing tempts me more than my own desires to do what I want). Because those temptations develop perseverance and patience in you." Well really, I have all the patience I need, thanks, can we move on!?! No, patience is not a strong point of mine. And slowly it dawned on me, it is like exercising to get ready to climb a mt. How are you going to develop those muscles without pushing, straining and building those muscles with "tests" of their strength.
Now really I have no desire to be a baby Christian for the rest of my life. Being tossed about by the latest emotion of the day. Not trusting God to provide the money I need and hording it out of fear. Yeh, I paid tithe this weekend even though I didn't feel I had the money.
Which brings me to another point...Rich Dad Poor Dad talks about the poor mentality and the grasping for money. He encourages you to give tithe or donate money no matter how little you have. I find that when I give there are several things in my attitude that changes. First, for me, I am thanking God for the blessing of even being able to make money, I am putting Him above my own wants which helps root out the selfishness in my soul (which pride and selfishness are one of the biggest struggles I have when you take it down to the root), and giving away money helps me feel wealthy. It changes my attitude toward money from one of desperate clutching to one of realizing how blessed I really am.
While reading James 1 it hit me like a load of bricks. In essence he is saying to me, "Heather, thank God when you are tempted (and heck nothing tempts me more than my own desires to do what I want). Because those temptations develop perseverance and patience in you." Well really, I have all the patience I need, thanks, can we move on!?! No, patience is not a strong point of mine. And slowly it dawned on me, it is like exercising to get ready to climb a mt. How are you going to develop those muscles without pushing, straining and building those muscles with "tests" of their strength.
Now really I have no desire to be a baby Christian for the rest of my life. Being tossed about by the latest emotion of the day. Not trusting God to provide the money I need and hording it out of fear. Yeh, I paid tithe this weekend even though I didn't feel I had the money.
Which brings me to another point...Rich Dad Poor Dad talks about the poor mentality and the grasping for money. He encourages you to give tithe or donate money no matter how little you have. I find that when I give there are several things in my attitude that changes. First, for me, I am thanking God for the blessing of even being able to make money, I am putting Him above my own wants which helps root out the selfishness in my soul (which pride and selfishness are one of the biggest struggles I have when you take it down to the root), and giving away money helps me feel wealthy. It changes my attitude toward money from one of desperate clutching to one of realizing how blessed I really am.
Saturday, June 2, 2007
My Soul in a Cage
I have contemplated blogs for several years. I tend to go with Thoreau on this one. His view is, "How vain it is to sit down to write when you have not stood up to live." - Henry David Thoreau Personally I don't enjoy blogs very much. They seem to become the verbal vomit of some unhappy soul. What makes me think I, or mine will be much different...I don't know...does it matter...I suppose not.
What is written here is often written in my journal and I write it because writing has been a friend of my heart and the release of my soul. I write it in hopes that some day someone will meander through my steps and emerge more of a person in the early days of their life than I will ever be at the end of mine. Most often I write to God, He the creator and healer of my soul knows and understands me best.
Today, it is Sabbath, I will refer to Saturday as Sabbath because that is what it is to me. Not to offend any. I have finished writing yet another journal full and in the move placed my blank ones in a special place so that when I finished this one I could use my blank ones without having to buy more. Makes sense, except now I am clueless as to what safe box I put them in and have not located my blank ones. Amusing.
I am on the path to medical school. I have not committed in such a sense as to actually start school as of yet. That is planned to happen in August. We have moved. I "quit" my job in Pagosa and we struck out for North Carolina. It is pretty here...and getting hot. :) Having not really quit my job I am working from home. So my foot is on the path to medical school.
Yet I have not taken the step that I fear most...the loans. Why? It is done every day. People live off loans to go back to school year in and out, who cares? This is where my soul begins to feel trapped in a cage. I have felt the strangle of debt and it repels me. The thought of once more plunging in, eyes open is frightening.
Here is where the complications rise. Today I looked beyond the news to the real world. The world inside and outside of the USA where humanity suffers and it crushed my heart. I read about the people of the Darfur region of the Sudan, pressed out of their homeland by rape, torture and death into Chad where they live in camps. But the Janjawid have come there as well destroying them. The SHAC 7 sitting in Federal Penitentiaries for allegedly peacefully protesting the ill treatment of animals at a testing lab, yes that is in my great country. Aung San Suu Kyi, under house arrest and others in Myanmar for wanting a Democratic government. And then the things I experienced in my travels to Cambodia.
Some may say, but it is complicated and what can we do, what can you do. Oh God, I wish I knew there is little we can "do" to put an end to it all. But to stop the pain and be of greater influence in someone's life who is suffering is what I wish. To actually have the balls to walk out and without regard to myself do what was right. That is all I want to do.
Now how does that play into medical school. Well, I will tell you...bet you thought I would leave you hanging. ;-) Medical school will leave me with debt. Albeit less debt in these schools than in some but debt nonetheless. With debt I am a slave to a system that would drive me to see more patients than almost physically possible, to feed the greedy corporate system, and to let me get the kind of money I need to pay that debt off at a fast rate.
Well, why not just go work in some little town that pays not so much and pay it off slower. Because these countries need volunteers and I WANT TO BE ONE OF THEM in the worst of ways. My soul desires this more than anything. But a person cannot spend their life volunteering when they are strapped to a debt they must repay.
So I wonder, is my EMT training enough? Can I get that corporate greed job and tough it out to pay the debt I have now and go like I am? I won't be as useful but I will be useful sooner. In countries where they die of a lack of a vitamin pill, because of defecating to near there house, do they need Drs or do they need simple knowledge that I already have?
Secondly, and quite honestly I have the same conflict of interest that everyone has. I like stuff just as much as the next girl. It is too easy to feel I need this or that when I don't, or do I? Where does one draw the line? A person needs things to "fit in" and be "respectable" but in the end, what does it matter when people die daily for want of simple things? "...as far as I have heard or observed, the principal object is, not that mankind may be well and honestly clad, but, unquestionably, that the corporations may be enriched." Henry David Thoreau in Walden.
So that is why my soul is in a cage. Some of you may know this feeling, this feeling of helplessness and being trapped not sure which direction to go. I guess we'll see how it goes. These desires to help others, are labeled by some as naive and rose colored. Oh God I have been there and tried to help the child prostitute only to have them turn from me, my heart breaking as they turned to tell their 40 year old buyer about our efforts to help them. No, I know reality. But no one changes the world by focusing solely on reality but on a dream. It is something I have been cursed with, this dream. I wonder where it goes...
If someone from Pagosa is reading this, yes I would like to help the Pagosa people, but honestly in my soul I know that there will be a hundred people who would do that, because it is a park, a haven, but how many will go to the ugly parts of the earth and help those? Some obviously but not as many.
Keep me in your thoughts and prayers as I struggle with my desires, my fears and my dreams.
What is written here is often written in my journal and I write it because writing has been a friend of my heart and the release of my soul. I write it in hopes that some day someone will meander through my steps and emerge more of a person in the early days of their life than I will ever be at the end of mine. Most often I write to God, He the creator and healer of my soul knows and understands me best.
Today, it is Sabbath, I will refer to Saturday as Sabbath because that is what it is to me. Not to offend any. I have finished writing yet another journal full and in the move placed my blank ones in a special place so that when I finished this one I could use my blank ones without having to buy more. Makes sense, except now I am clueless as to what safe box I put them in and have not located my blank ones. Amusing.
I am on the path to medical school. I have not committed in such a sense as to actually start school as of yet. That is planned to happen in August. We have moved. I "quit" my job in Pagosa and we struck out for North Carolina. It is pretty here...and getting hot. :) Having not really quit my job I am working from home. So my foot is on the path to medical school.
Yet I have not taken the step that I fear most...the loans. Why? It is done every day. People live off loans to go back to school year in and out, who cares? This is where my soul begins to feel trapped in a cage. I have felt the strangle of debt and it repels me. The thought of once more plunging in, eyes open is frightening.
Here is where the complications rise. Today I looked beyond the news to the real world. The world inside and outside of the USA where humanity suffers and it crushed my heart. I read about the people of the Darfur region of the Sudan, pressed out of their homeland by rape, torture and death into Chad where they live in camps. But the Janjawid have come there as well destroying them. The SHAC 7 sitting in Federal Penitentiaries for allegedly peacefully protesting the ill treatment of animals at a testing lab, yes that is in my great country. Aung San Suu Kyi, under house arrest and others in Myanmar for wanting a Democratic government. And then the things I experienced in my travels to Cambodia.
Some may say, but it is complicated and what can we do, what can you do. Oh God, I wish I knew there is little we can "do" to put an end to it all. But to stop the pain and be of greater influence in someone's life who is suffering is what I wish. To actually have the balls to walk out and without regard to myself do what was right. That is all I want to do.
Now how does that play into medical school. Well, I will tell you...bet you thought I would leave you hanging. ;-) Medical school will leave me with debt. Albeit less debt in these schools than in some but debt nonetheless. With debt I am a slave to a system that would drive me to see more patients than almost physically possible, to feed the greedy corporate system, and to let me get the kind of money I need to pay that debt off at a fast rate.
Well, why not just go work in some little town that pays not so much and pay it off slower. Because these countries need volunteers and I WANT TO BE ONE OF THEM in the worst of ways. My soul desires this more than anything. But a person cannot spend their life volunteering when they are strapped to a debt they must repay.
So I wonder, is my EMT training enough? Can I get that corporate greed job and tough it out to pay the debt I have now and go like I am? I won't be as useful but I will be useful sooner. In countries where they die of a lack of a vitamin pill, because of defecating to near there house, do they need Drs or do they need simple knowledge that I already have?
Secondly, and quite honestly I have the same conflict of interest that everyone has. I like stuff just as much as the next girl. It is too easy to feel I need this or that when I don't, or do I? Where does one draw the line? A person needs things to "fit in" and be "respectable" but in the end, what does it matter when people die daily for want of simple things? "...as far as I have heard or observed, the principal object is, not that mankind may be well and honestly clad, but, unquestionably, that the corporations may be enriched." Henry David Thoreau in Walden.
So that is why my soul is in a cage. Some of you may know this feeling, this feeling of helplessness and being trapped not sure which direction to go. I guess we'll see how it goes. These desires to help others, are labeled by some as naive and rose colored. Oh God I have been there and tried to help the child prostitute only to have them turn from me, my heart breaking as they turned to tell their 40 year old buyer about our efforts to help them. No, I know reality. But no one changes the world by focusing solely on reality but on a dream. It is something I have been cursed with, this dream. I wonder where it goes...
If someone from Pagosa is reading this, yes I would like to help the Pagosa people, but honestly in my soul I know that there will be a hundred people who would do that, because it is a park, a haven, but how many will go to the ugly parts of the earth and help those? Some obviously but not as many.
Keep me in your thoughts and prayers as I struggle with my desires, my fears and my dreams.
SHAC 7 My Heros
I was on www.vegweb.com this morning looking for something good to take to potluck and I happened to surf onto an ad for some really groovy looking T's. One said "All my heros have an FBI record". Since this is a website devoted to vegetarian T's I was curious what that could be about. In the blurb it talked about SHAC 7. I Googled SHAC 7 and what I read made my blood boil and I have to say that SHAC 7, if they are as innocent as all the sites I have read say they are, have quickly become hero's of mine right along side Aung San Suu Kyi.
SHAC 7 is a group that wanted to close an animal testing lab. Now I love animals and I am a vegetarian but I have never really gotten highly fired up about a lot of things like slaughter houses and testing labs...probably more out of ignorance than anything but I will get fired up when someone's right to protest and try to close down a business that they believe is not operating honestly and lawfully is denied them.
You can read the details of their case on their site www.shac7.com.
Read about them...why was this not on national news? Why do I know that Brittany Spears shaved her head and not know that these 6 people are rotting in prison for exercising their right to free speech? Why do I need to know who lost at Idol or what happened on the last episode of Lost when people are quietly being refused their 1st amendment rights? Where is the fire of our patriotism?
I just started reading Walden written by Thoreau last night. There is a often used quote in that book about true patriotism being dissension. And is that not true? If I loudly disagree with something does it not show that I am interested enough to care? That I am engaged with my surroundings enough to become aware of what is going on. What is worse that I was so disengaged, that I relied on main stream media to bring me news such as the SHAC 7 and guess what, it let me down. Shame on me!
Really I am often bored by people's conspiracy theories. For one people get fired up about "supposed" things but never have the balls to go see if it is true for themselves. So I plan to read more about SHAC 7. Did they do something wrong? Did they directly order someone to bomb the plant and kill the people and/or animals inside? If so, then fine, maybe they are psycho and belong in prison. But so far I have not read anything that even says they were any where near to that.
Coming home from Cambodia I literally bowed down and thanked God that I live in a country where I can blog about things I disagree with. That I live in a place that will allow me to protest peacefully. Will this paranoid country be the USA that our children, nieces, nephews grow up in? A state ruled by fear and people to weak to stand up for truth.
Have you watch Clooney's "Good Night and Good Luck" If not, I challenge us (myself included) to sit down, stop the flow of movies that are feeding our hunger for sensational ever more gory entertainment and watch this mind blowing movie. It happened then and it can happen now. Even more interesting is watching it with your grandparents. I watched with my grandma who lived during that era. How fascinating.
What do we do about it? I am researching and I will be back with more of what can be done.
SHAC 7 is a group that wanted to close an animal testing lab. Now I love animals and I am a vegetarian but I have never really gotten highly fired up about a lot of things like slaughter houses and testing labs...probably more out of ignorance than anything but I will get fired up when someone's right to protest and try to close down a business that they believe is not operating honestly and lawfully is denied them.
You can read the details of their case on their site www.shac7.com.
Read about them...why was this not on national news? Why do I know that Brittany Spears shaved her head and not know that these 6 people are rotting in prison for exercising their right to free speech? Why do I need to know who lost at Idol or what happened on the last episode of Lost when people are quietly being refused their 1st amendment rights? Where is the fire of our patriotism?
I just started reading Walden written by Thoreau last night. There is a often used quote in that book about true patriotism being dissension. And is that not true? If I loudly disagree with something does it not show that I am interested enough to care? That I am engaged with my surroundings enough to become aware of what is going on. What is worse that I was so disengaged, that I relied on main stream media to bring me news such as the SHAC 7 and guess what, it let me down. Shame on me!
Really I am often bored by people's conspiracy theories. For one people get fired up about "supposed" things but never have the balls to go see if it is true for themselves. So I plan to read more about SHAC 7. Did they do something wrong? Did they directly order someone to bomb the plant and kill the people and/or animals inside? If so, then fine, maybe they are psycho and belong in prison. But so far I have not read anything that even says they were any where near to that.
Coming home from Cambodia I literally bowed down and thanked God that I live in a country where I can blog about things I disagree with. That I live in a place that will allow me to protest peacefully. Will this paranoid country be the USA that our children, nieces, nephews grow up in? A state ruled by fear and people to weak to stand up for truth.
Have you watch Clooney's "Good Night and Good Luck" If not, I challenge us (myself included) to sit down, stop the flow of movies that are feeding our hunger for sensational ever more gory entertainment and watch this mind blowing movie. It happened then and it can happen now. Even more interesting is watching it with your grandparents. I watched with my grandma who lived during that era. How fascinating.
What do we do about it? I am researching and I will be back with more of what can be done.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
The Cost of a Mistake - Open Ankle Fracture
Eric had a sobering story to tell yesterday and made me really thoughtful. He and Val went with one of their EMS co-workers in Pagosa and his wife rock climbing at X-Rock, on a climb we were on not long ago. This guy really likes climbing and climbs ice and rock. He is quite comfortable with leading and good at it as well. He was leading an easy route, twelve foot high route and placed one piece of pro approximately half way up the route. As he came 4 foot from the top of the climb he peeled off and fell. Who would have thought but his pro pulled and he fell to the bottom.
Eric and Val saw the pro fling from the crack as he went skidding by. But it wasn't until his wife yelled did they realize that he had been hurt.
Quickly they ran up to her and found him with an open fracture of both his tibia and fibula (both bones sticking out the side of his ankle). He hopped out with the help of his wife, Eric and Val and rode to the hospital and 2 hr orthopedic surgery by his step mother-in-law. How long until he recovers? No one knew last night. One person with that kind of break can't stand/walk for more than four hours...even years after the accident.
Thank God (and I mean Thanks be to God) that he wore his helmet.
Sobering. When I talked to Eric he and Val were going out to dinner. They couldn't go any place fancy cause he still had blood on his pants. Wasted blood. Preventable blood. What if? What if he placed more pro? What if he had placed it differently? What if...? Somewhat futile questions. he made a mistake, a boo boo, a slip up (no pun intended) maybe two...easy mistakes to make.
Really I cannot blame him for his mistake. It is a mistake climber's die for every day. It is the mistake of comfort, experience and over-confidence. It is a mistake that could have been me, it was an easy climb after all, it could have been my brother, our friend Jesse or Kris, Thad, Kim...it could have been you. So don't blame him. Look inward, don't scoff at our friend because he made a mistake. Check your attitude and on your next climb (or other adventure)...think about the result of a mistake and decide if it is worth months of lost work, a lifetime of lost outdoor experiences, a lifetime puffed out with the slip of a rock, a hand or a foot.
It made me look inward. It reminded me of the stakes that I play with when I climb and the results of a simple mistake. It reminded me why I enjoy climbing, it tests you not only physically but it tests you mentally as well. What a sport. Take chances but THINK about the risks and the things you can do to lessen those risks.
Eric and Val saw the pro fling from the crack as he went skidding by. But it wasn't until his wife yelled did they realize that he had been hurt.
Quickly they ran up to her and found him with an open fracture of both his tibia and fibula (both bones sticking out the side of his ankle). He hopped out with the help of his wife, Eric and Val and rode to the hospital and 2 hr orthopedic surgery by his step mother-in-law. How long until he recovers? No one knew last night. One person with that kind of break can't stand/walk for more than four hours...even years after the accident.
Thank God (and I mean Thanks be to God) that he wore his helmet.
Sobering. When I talked to Eric he and Val were going out to dinner. They couldn't go any place fancy cause he still had blood on his pants. Wasted blood. Preventable blood. What if? What if he placed more pro? What if he had placed it differently? What if...? Somewhat futile questions. he made a mistake, a boo boo, a slip up (no pun intended) maybe two...easy mistakes to make.
Really I cannot blame him for his mistake. It is a mistake climber's die for every day. It is the mistake of comfort, experience and over-confidence. It is a mistake that could have been me, it was an easy climb after all, it could have been my brother, our friend Jesse or Kris, Thad, Kim...it could have been you. So don't blame him. Look inward, don't scoff at our friend because he made a mistake. Check your attitude and on your next climb (or other adventure)...think about the result of a mistake and decide if it is worth months of lost work, a lifetime of lost outdoor experiences, a lifetime puffed out with the slip of a rock, a hand or a foot.
It made me look inward. It reminded me of the stakes that I play with when I climb and the results of a simple mistake. It reminded me why I enjoy climbing, it tests you not only physically but it tests you mentally as well. What a sport. Take chances but THINK about the risks and the things you can do to lessen those risks.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Dirty Feet
Yesterday we went to a State park not far from here and hiked about 3 miles in a loop. It was sad, yet amusing, how many people didn't do that loop. The trail was cleared of pine needles at the beginning and at the end but in the middle it was a lush soft carpet of mostly undisturbed needles. We saw white tail deer and lots of little squirrels. It was peaceful and enjoyable. My soul has been needing time away from people and I didn't know it until I got there and felt myself relax. Not sure how you are...like that some people cannot seem to get too much of a crowd. And as much as I love people my soul and spirit still need the quiet of the forest.
Why dirty feet....well Charles hiked in his Teva's and I hiked in my Chaco flip flops. :)
Friday, May 25, 2007
Homesick
It is the weekend we went out for our first backpacking trip in Pagosa Springs last year. It makes me homesick. I miss our friends. I miss our family. I miss our mountains.
Not sure what we will do. Have to get parts for the Bug before we can go anywhere very far so probably stay around here. Bet we will have fun though whatever it is! Must go so we can decide. Hope you all have fun too.
I am having an urge to read Thoreau...have any of you read any of Thoreau's books? Any recommendations?
Not sure what we will do. Have to get parts for the Bug before we can go anywhere very far so probably stay around here. Bet we will have fun though whatever it is! Must go so we can decide. Hope you all have fun too.
I am having an urge to read Thoreau...have any of you read any of Thoreau's books? Any recommendations?
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