someday soon

I woke up to the sound of my 3rd alarm the other morning before work (I have a tendency to snooze my first couple of alarms this summer...) with a vision that I haven't had lately. Actually, it's been quite some time. Years, even. Grandma Jenny was well. Really really well. And the basis of the dream was the Grandma had been cured; MS had left her old, frail, and weak body and she had become rejuvenated. More than her body though, she was talking. Her voice was that strong, nasaly sound that I remember, filled with a mix of coffee, diet coke, and the smell of her bold pink lipstick. Her hair was that golden blonde like before and her face was glowing with light. She was talking and loudly proclaiming that she was no longer sick. She was free.

I suppose I'm used to telling my dreams, over analyzing them, and using my somewhat hastily acquired and likely marginal dream interpretation skills from Hendrix dream group in order to figure out what characters, stories, and thoughts pass through my mind at night.

I can't say for certain what this dream meant. I have ideas, I have theories, but really, I think I just like to leave it at this:

I'm at peace with where grandma is right now. I know she's hurting, she's probably suffering, and I can't imagine the turmoil she has been through emotionally and physically as her body has fell way behind her mind, heart, and soul. I hate it. Of course. But, this summer I really feel like I have made peace with my grandmother dying. She is, after all. Yet, I had this dream where she was full of life, energy, and happiness. It's what I hope for her. It's what I hope for everyone; but that feeling of life is something I hope especially for the old, the sick, the marginalized, the pained, the forgotten, and I hope that they feel that way someday soon. Someday the pain will be all gone, and I have finally admitted (and embraced) this feeling of hope for grandma. I can't wait for that day to come for her.

You are Invited...

Pretty much one year to the day, I started and finished my Peace Corps application process. It's now over. Well, it's actually really just beginning, but the application part is done and done. I'm going to be serving in RWANDA, leaving in September.
I will head to an American city for two days (most likely Philly, PA) for a brief "staging" which is essentially a basic orientation.
And then, we will head as a group to fly out to Rwanda (probably out of NYC). We will spend the first three months as PCT (Peace Corps Trainees) in Rwanda going through cultural and language training. INTENSE training it seems. Assuming I make it through (if you know my language skills you would be concerned also...) then I will be sworn in as a volunteer (repeating the same statement the President of the United States takes when they are sworn in...) and I will move to SOMEWHERE in Rwanda where I will live and teach for 2 years. 24 months. A LONG time.
But I'm happy. excited. scared. nervous. A whole ton of things, really.
But mostly, I just want to say thank you to everybody, especially my friends and family for sticking with me during this long application process. I have been upset, mad, happy, crazy...all at different times. So, just thanks. It means so much to me.

pretty pretty mountains

Do What You Love

I came home from college (for the last time) 2 odd months or so ago.

In some ways it has felt like forever ago. In other ways, it has felt like I just got here. Most days though, it feels like I've been here at home forever.

It's not to say that's necessarily a bad thing; rather, I've just become so accustomed to the 8-4 (or sometimes 8-8) workdays that the days of late night studying in the carrels, watching random episodes of Friends in the HAM living room, and eating macncheese and chicken fingers for Friday lunch is so far removed from where I am right now. I miss those things a lot. Maybe even the studying? I really really do. Which is probably why adjusting to being back here albeit burritos all of the days and family all the time has still been a difficult season for me.

Of course, there have been lovely things about being here.
I have rather enjoyed eating my family's cooking. I have relished in going to Chipolte on the whim of a burrito craving, and there is something nice about having mountains back in the skyline again. And as always, it's been nice to be back with my crazy/weird/fun family again. Just when I think I have them all figured out....I definitely don't. It's fun.

I haven't been writing about this much lately, but I think as much as I love being around my family again, it's harder than ever before because I have felt much more closed off than I usually am. I'm not exactly someone who holds back; quite the opposite, much of the time I like putting myself out there and just going with it. But after graduation, I have found myself internally reflecting upon experiences, processing and digesting if you will, and I have let this kind of inner reflection stop me from really divulging a lot to my parents, but more so, my friends here too. I feel guarded. I just have these moments where I don’t feel as carefree as I enjoy being….and that’s hard.

So, I’m trying to get back to that in my life here. Of course, now it’s nearing the end of summer, but there is always a little time to be spontaneous and just dive into things with a little bit of light-heartedness. I hiked a mountain in the foothills just last weekend, to a place I have never been before. I know my parents really didn’t appreciate the whole I’m-going-hiking-alone-thanks-love-you-bye, but when I arrived home safely, they seemed to shrug it off. I ate dinner alone at a restaurant one weekend, which was, interesting for sure. More than just sparking some long lost sense of independence, it’s not like I’m trying to do things alone, I’m just doing things that add a little bit of spark into me again. I embrace (and always have) the feeling of waking up in the mornings and being excited. For whatever reason, that’s been a little missing, but I know I can get it back. I quit my second job realizing that all it was doing was adding extra baggage to my already full work schedule. I was tempted to just working the rest of the summer one time last week; but I sucked it up, ignored my people pleasing tendencies and politely confirmed that I would, in fact, be leaving next week.

I suppose the culmination of this desire to find spontaneity in my life can best be revealed in my upcoming three week trek over on the other side of the country. Even before that, Michelle is coming to Colorado and we are going to spend the weekend at my uncle’s cabin. It will be superb. I know it. Following her much anticipated visit, I will have to pack and hurry as I’m leaving that Friday for Little Rock—en route to Disney World with Rachel!!! I couldn’t be more excited. It’s just going to be exactly what we both need after a summer full of work, work, and more work. We will Disney-it-up, have a blast, and then move Rachel into her apartment in Murfreesboro, TN. No big deal, right? Then, it’s Michelle’s big day in Moscow, TN, and I will say some joyous hellos/difficult goodbyes before heading back to Hendrix for a week to visit and see the field hockey home opener.

I think it’s fair to say, that’s some major spontaneity.

But there’s a lesson in all of this, I think. There always is. It’s easy to be spontaneous when planning things on a whim; things that take you away and remove yourself from the daily grind of a working summer. It’s much harder with a work schedule when all you want to do is come home and rest after a long work day, which, a) is totally fine (welcome, even!) and b) usually quite necessary. Yet, I’ve realized that for me personally to be happy and content and to just enjoy the day, even it is just work, there has to be passion in my life—passion for a certain hobby or activity or idea or something I am learning about or even just passion to be around the people you love. This is essential to getting through times where you feel down, drained, and ready to throw in the towel. You just have to find what you like to do. It’s an old mantra I’m sure that Oprah has reiterated on her show countless times and an old adage that elderly men and women might confirm throughout their old age, but no matter what, it’s a timeless lesson with a lot of timeless value.
Confession.
Michelle told me just a couple weeks ago while we were on the phone that I had a future in being a life coach. Humbling and hilarious, I couldn’t help but smile and ponder the idea whimsically. Though I think I’m going to stick with the whole I-love-kids-let’s-inspire-them-to-reach-their-full-potential thing, this too, is a small macro example of being a life coach, right? So, maybe she was right all along. I am getting a clearer picture of what might be coming up next in my life. Whether it be evoking strong values and lessons to do my best and imitate what we call a “life coach” or you find me hanging out on the playgrounds with kids or you find me in an office doing clerical work or you just find me in a community somewhere in Africa, I hope that no matter what, I’m enjoying different aspects of my life. I’m exploring a variety of opportunities in life, and I am also relying on a sense of passion that has carried me this far. If I’m doing all these things, wherever I am, wherever my home may be, I am confident that I will be happy.

"The Rain of Love"

In so many ways, I wish I had brought my camera to our Growing Colorado Kids “free day” today.
Growing Colorado Kids is a nonprofit started by my friend Denise with the goal to allow refugee children and adolescents to continue ideas of sustenance and food that originated in their cultures back home. The children that are in the program have been displaced by international conflict, have resettled in Colorado, and this is one way they can contribute to their community while also growing and gardening—a piece of their lives that they are able to bring to their new home in America.
GCK is sponsored by several homeowners, and each Saturday, the kids divide into groups and go to houses around Denver to work on the gardens they have started. It so happened that because the gardens are looking so good this summer, this week was a free day! We loaded up all the kids (ages 6-16; from places all over Africa and now Burma) into about 4 different cars and headed to City Park. We picked a spot under a couple of gorgeous trees which happened to be adjacent to the mammoth worship experience a local Denver church was putting on for the 4th of July weekend. Baptisms included. A woman approached us to invite us to their free food of hotdogs and chips, but with a good portion of the kids being practicing Muslims we just said our “thanks” but “no, thanks.”
One of the volunteers, Patty, talked about nutrition for a bit, teaching the kids about 5-2-1-0 (5 fruits/vegetables a day, 2 hours or less of “screen time”, at least 1 hour a day of movement, and 0 sugary drinks).
After the kids drew on a plastic plate what they ate for breakfast (or did not eat), we raced, leaped, and soared into the spouting water fountain at City Park.
As I twirled a young girl around in the shooting water, I realized how amazing it would have been to have my camera with me today.
The look on her face was priceless, especially after she said, “I haven’t had this much fun since last summer when we came here.”
The shots would have been beautiful.
Yet, the best thing was that I was in the moment, not worried about much else. I felt happiness inside myself and all around me. Another young girl must have felt the same thing when she told me that we were dancing in “the rain of love.”
I didn’t need the photos today.
Mostly, I just needed today.
Check out Growing Colorado here:
http://www.9news.com/news/local/story.aspx?storyid=148292&catid=222
http://www.growingcolorado.org/

“She’s my girl”

A roomful of the aged, white hair, men, women, wheelchairs, nurses, canes, and a clear scent of sanitation supplies as well as urine. For many, this is called growing old.

For starters, the people who work with older seniors, especially ones who just have small amounts of time left—kudos. It's inspiring. It's good work. But, can you imagine the difficulty? Every. Single. Day. ?

Renee, a woman I met the other day, takes care of Grandma. She told me about Grandma Jenny, "she's my girl."

I said, "thanks." How could I ever say enough? She's nursing my dying grandmother.

I'm 22. Should I really be thinking about the pains (and the good parts too) of growing old?

But as I drove away from the Cherry Creek Nursing Facility, I wondered about such things. Not solely about me—but anybody.

For people who can afford nursing assistance and those who cannot.

For Americans but also for people around the world.

Maybe how we see getting old, getting sick and how we respond says more about us than we would like. But maybe not.

Who wants it to be like this?

Who wants to think about the vibrant person they love to be confined to a bed—unmoving, unable to talk. How alone she must feel.

I know the staff there does what they can. I admire but also deeply appreciate that.

So when I see her, I do the best I can too, knowing it isn't long now. Goodbyes are deeply difficult and this will be even more so.

But slowly, a greater peace is making way in my heart.

I pray it's finding Grandma Jenny's heart too.

Love Liberates

I drove to Overland High School over a week ago to begin my tutoring/teaching/getting more Peace Corps volunteer hours.

I don't quite recall the day that I started, but whatever day it was—maybe a Wednesday?—I distinctly remember waking up on edge. Not in an angry sort of way, but in that feeling of a deep sadness. It's like there is this pang of hurt in your stomach, and despite all sorts of things, you just can't find the cure.

As I made the car trip over to meet and work with the students who are learning English as a second language at OHS, I had to take several (okay, many) deep breathes. More than anything, I had to stop crying. The last thing these students needed to see was a recent college graduate singing the post-grad blues. I mean, let's be real. I told myself everything was okay. The truth is I genuinely knew it was okay. However, the tears just kept coming.

What was wrong with me?

Why can't I shake this feeling?

More than anything, the previous few weeks were catching up with me:

Graduation…moving…coming home….a hell of a lot of change.

I was sad and felt very much alone.

I gathered myself and entered the high school. I checked in somewhat nervously and found my dad in his classroom so he could show me where I would be working. We walked upstairs briskly as he left his highly rambunctious freshman geography class unattended. We walked by lockers, through rowdy students, and finally made our way into a small, colorfully decorated classroom. It was like I transported back in time; high school? This place…it be crazy. In the classroom, a group of about 14 high schoolers looked up and greeted me even before I said anything. Once I did, and I told them I was Mr. Newell's daughter, they laughed. They put me at ease and felt comfortable.

The very first activity I led was a discussion in small groups about what students wanted to keep from their cultures and simultaneously, what they wanted to adapt to in America. PERFECT. Giko, a young woman originally from Liberia, told me that she wanted to keep the traditional African clothing. She beamed when telling me it made her feel proud; it made her "feel African" and she liked that. As for America, she wants to get a "good American education." I beamed right back at her; those three words—her search for an education—found my ears at the most opportune time. It reminded me exactly why I want to do what I want to do with my life. It's funny how I constantly need these reminders. Yet, they always speak to me in important ways—I firmly believe it's one of God's ways of keeping us in tune with the direction of our life. When I told them I had just graduated college, they clapped. That was just….really nice.

Giko had more and more questions—about college, about Ghana, about the Peace Corps. Her persistence and eagerness were unmistakable. In her, I saw a little of me—hopeful energy to try and make the world a better place, even if it's just for a moment, for just one person.

I loved our time together. I loved sharing with her, and her sharing right back.

God brings us people and moments and opportunities to sustain us. Maybe my tears have been tears of not only sadness to say goodbye, but also out of fear. Fear, that in this moment of change, I have nothing to hold onto. I don't know where I'm going. Literally and figuratively. And the people I tell everything to….well, they are all over the United States. Yet, in this time with Giko, I found a piece of enlightenment. It's us that are responsible for finding what's here for us. Certainly, this is a season of change. It hurts. It's so hard. And I will probably cry more. Let's be real. But, I think that's okay. Change is happening right before my eyes and that's never easy. But, I am in this moment, this phase of my life, taking the reins all by myself. That's terrifying. However, it's an opportunity to realize just how strong I am on my own. I doubt this frequently. In the very same experience though, I can realize that no one person is strong enough to survive this world alone. Goodbyes did not take away those relationships—they can still grow. Stronger, even. I have people here I can rely on; I have people across the country; I can find strength in myself; and through all of this, there is God.

You can never be prepared enough for the way in which life changes…and in turn, the way in which we ourselves might change.

Love is certainly strong though, and going through all of this, it just seems that love will make it all okay.

God keeps showing me that. I'm starting to believe Him.

"I am grateful to have been loved and to be loved now and to be able to love, because that liberates. Love liberates. It doesn't just hold—that's ego. Love liberates. It doesn't bind. Love says, "I love you. I love you if you're in China. I love you if you're across town. I love you if you're in Harlem. I love you. I would like to be near you. I'd like to have your arms around me. I'd like to hear your voice in my ear. But, that's not possible now, so I love you. Go." –Dr. Maya Angelou

Live. Your. Best. Lifeeeeee

I feel that this simple statement truly encompasses my very being.
I will try to live by it's implications every day of my life.
Pure. Beauty and love.

20 things I know for sure

I've attended a fine institution for the past 4 years. I've been challenged, perplexed, confused, intrigued, bored, lazy, excited, happy, tired, enthralled, but always grateful.

How can you just not love this place?

For 4 years now, I've taken classes here in the pursuit of some sense of knowledge, with an important piece of paper waiting at the end of all of this.

I'll get the paper soon, I'll throw up my graduation cap, but everything else that comes with 4 years at Hendrix—I'll take all of that with me. Just like everyone else. Each Hendrix grad will have their own stories and memories to share, many overlapping, and the experiences we had here are somehow a part of us now.

While I don't know everything after 4 years of liberal arts education (let's be real…I'm nowhere close, nor will I ever be) but I can say that I am walking away with some sense of things that I believe in, things that I at this point in my life know to be true.

As I prepare to leave, pack, and say goodbye, I have been reflecting on things that I know for sure. These are often fluid, they might change next month, next year, and another big stage in my life. A lot of them though, I have learnt through experiences, or I have believed for a long time anyway.

As I finish my college education I know this for sure:

1. Having a meal plan senior year is worth the extra money. Eating with people is one of the best ways to get to know them, to share stories, and to enjoy their company.
   
2. You can sometimes get to the same place by both slacking off or working extremely hard. Working hard always feels so much better.
   
3. Black coffee really isn't that good.
   
4. You should love yourself and be comfortable with who you are, but it's incredibly important to be open to change.
   
5. Road trips are good for the soul.
   
6. A good friend is a loyal friend.
   
7. No matter what you do with your life, always search for what makes you happy, and what makes other people happy too.
   
8. If you laugh at yourself and then let other people laugh along with you, it's their way of saying I love you.
   
9. You will never understand time.
   
10. Similarly, you will never understand the fullness, love, and strength of God. Accept this, but don't stop trying.
    
11. Trying new things will do one of two things: one, it will reaffirm what you like or love, or two, it will bring you to something new that you can also enjoy. It's a win-win situation.
    
12. Being a good Christian isn't about the right clothes, keychains, or even words. The most important part of being a Christian, I think, is what you know to be true in your heart, and the outward expression of those feelings and beliefs.
    
13. Goodbyes are difficult. Whether it's for an extended amount of time or for good, it always hurts to say goodbye to people you care about.
    
14. If more people had Southern hospitality, people might be happier.
    
15. It's better to invest into one thing that you love than to have too many commitments that you don't enjoy nearly as much.
    
16. Burning bridges is usually not a good idea.
    
17. You are in no way bound to every belief that your family has. That's perfectly okay, too. Love where you come from, but know there is plenty of freedom to grow from that, be yourself, and still recognize the values and beliefs of your family.
    
18. Hugging people you love is a beautiful way of showing how you feel.
    
19. You can be a morning person and a night person. Just prepare to be tired. And drink lots of coffee.
    
20. Gratitude is a really wonderful quality about people.
    

 

so much for routines

Today was a really good day.

I woke up a little late this morning (I accidently snoozed my alarm) but I made it to work right on time. I delivered the mail to Charlotte, made small-talk about crazy thesis times, and headed to the SLTC for lunch. On my way there, I managed to see about 10 different campus walks, all of the pecan court tables filled with people reading, chatting, and listening to music, and I saw people lying out in the sun. At lunch, I mixed it up a bit and got something off the main menu—Italian sausage and Penne—and also decided to finish off my meal with chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. It was Sundae Thursday after all. We chatted about the school budget, senate, and of course the ever popular topic of what's coming up next in our lives.

After lunch, Jordana and I went to our human rights class. We met in small groups before lecture with people who have similar paper topics, and it was refreshing to hear what everyone was doing with their papers. Our group was placed together because our topics have some common thematic element of social movements. We had a good laugh in trying to figure out exactly why we were all together though, because I and two other of my group members are writing something about education. Another girl in our group is doing Liberation Theology, so trying to figure out exactly how that fit in was rather entertaining. Dr. Goldberg swung by and explained why were placed together, and as she did so, I couldn't help but realize that it is so refreshing to be in a class with a professor who seems to really enjoy what they are doing. I've had some rather, um, you know, interesting professors throughout my college career, and so the real good ones, especially this late in the game (second semester senior year!) are so appreciated. After class I was scheduled to have an independent study meeting with Dr. Skok, but for the third week in a row, she canceled. I suppose I can't complain, as I managed to get extra work done and have a break until Dream Group. Dream Group was a good one today—both Ali and I shared dreams—and I love being able to hear what people are dreaming about, how this intertwines with what is going on in their lives, and sharing ideas with others about what their dreams could mean. It's a real nice way to get to know somebody. We even joked after our session that on facebook we could write that one of our hobbies is "getting to know people through dreams" because you know…that doesn't sound creepy. At all.

After Dream Group was Senior Fellowship. Seniors voted on the meal—lasagna and mac n cheese—so there were many happy people in the room. It was kind of surreal realizing that this was the last fellowship. Ever. Everything has just moved so fast that when the last of this or the last of that comes upon you, it's kind of hard to actually process. We watched the senior slideshow. As images of Journey of Reconciliation, and other mission trips, and fellowship over the years came up, I couldn't help but cry a little. I mean, I cry a lot anyway, but there is just something about seeing how things have changed, and really how much we have lived here. Today I guess I just had this realization that leaving here is going to be hard in a lot of ways, but the biggest way, I think, will be closing up things here because so much of this has become a second home. I guess I haven't given that much thought, really, everything here is just so natural. After fellowship, I typed up some notes then went to the showing of Party Girl in the library. Really I think everyone needs to see that movie. It might be on the more hilarious things I have seen in awhile—just imagine a fashionista party girl learning how to operate under the Dewey Decimal System.

And so now I am home. While I love reading all about the Civil Rights Movement, I am taking a much needed break and just lounging around, watching the storm, and thinking about what a nice day it was.

I'm pretty sure nobody really cares that much about what I did today. However, in going through what a nice, relatively easy day it was, I am just amazed that in just about a month, this won't be life anymore. There won't be walks around the Pecan Court with my friends, and the Hendrix cafeteria will exists as a legend I will tell people I meet later in life. Birthday cake? Yes. Friday lunch? Yes. Blackberry Crisp every other Tuesday? You better believe it.

I still have month left here, so I'm not trying to get overly nostalgic right now or anything, but it's kind of insane to think about life changes that fast and everything that you are used to (that you love, hate, adore, curse all at the same time) doesn't stay the same.

I think in going through my routine today, I just realized that there isn't a lot of time left. This routine will quickly become a routine of something else. For the next couple of months I kind of know what that will be like since I will be in Aurora, with my family, working a summer job. But beyond that, I really have no idea. Which of course is brilliant, terrifying, and exciting all at the same time.

One month left of college. We made it this far. We are so close to being done. I wouldn't trade this for anything, though. We only have exciting things to come, and though a month will go by fast, there are many, plenty of times to be had, plenty of memories to be made.