My Own Incredible Journey

Weightlessness

2010-08-06T11:51:00.000-07:00

I laughed out loud when I came across the first photo. This was our first pregnancy photo and we both thought that I was indeed showing. Perhaps we were just a little eager? The other photo was taken just a couple of weeks ago during the coastal portion of our Italy trip. I'm not usually one to swim in oceans because I have an irrational fear of sharks and swimming in southern California ocean waters is kind of like swimming in a giant toilet, but THIS water was irresistible! It's this magnificent blue-green that I wish I could make a part of my everyday life somehow because it's the color peace would be if peace was a "thing" and had a color. At the same time it was crystal clear and you could see all the mossy rocks and little fish below. So, I decided that it was too good to pass up. I basically dog paddled around until my arms got tired, enjoying the feeling of weightlessness, trying NOT to wonder about what kind of sharks prefer the Amalfi coast. Instead, I wondered if the baby could feel how wonderful the water was. And I felt even closer to him, thinking that this is what it must feel like to be floating around in a mothers womb.

Moving in...

2010-06-13T11:05:00.000-07:00

I realize that it's been quite a while since my last real post. I have been a bit taken by life's transitions as of late. Good transitions. Surprising transitions! One of which continues to hit me each time I look at my growing belly in the mirror and I think, "Oh my goodness...there really IS a baby in there." It's hard to believe that I'm already at the half way mark on the pregnancy timeline. It's strange to think back to the different surprises. Everything from, "Oh my gosh! We're pregnant!,"to "Oh my gosh! It's a boy!," and "Whoa! I think he's kicking!" It's an amazing ride. We have this drawer that we have been using to store some of the baby things that we have been collecting. Sweet gifts from thoughtful friends who are excited for his arrival are slowly filling it up. And each time I open it I am overwhelmed with the evidence that HE is moving in. His T-shirts and hats and blankets are already there. He will be here sooner than we can imagine and then our lives will never be the same. Life will be rich and challenging in new ways for us. We will have a son!

Happy 31 Liz and Jim

2010-05-11T15:40:00.000-07:00

This was a special treat. My wonderful in-laws celebrated their 31st wedding anniversary last week! These two are simply the best. I love their relationship because you can tell that they not only LOVE each other but they really really LIKE each other. They have traveled the world, raised 3 boys who have grown up to be good men (I know. I married one!), followed their passions and supported each other every step of the way. I was happy to capture their love for each other "film". Congratulations on 31 wonderful years of life together!

Old Town Monrovia, Ca

Little Erik

2010-02-25T10:14:00.000-08:00

Erik's parents gave this to us during our last visit. It's an old Temple City newspaper and that is little Erik standing at the front of the line of swimmers. I love his little-boy belly and his crossed toes. :) Simply adorable.

Maiden Flight

2010-02-22T17:54:00.000-08:00

Today was the day for the maiden flight of an old junker bicycle made new again. We found this jewel over two years ago when we first moved in to our old apartment. It was abandoned by the previous owner. Tucked under the outside stairs in the backyard that led up to our little newlywed nest, this bike sat lonely and unloved covered in spider webs and rust. I wondered how anyone could just LEAVE something so adorable behind! Sure, the tires were flat and the paint was chipped but that was no reason to take away its dignity and purpose for...living? sure. that works.

"Someday I'll fix her up," I thought.

It sat for another year with us and then we packed it up along with the rest of our things when we moved to where we are living now. And it's been sitting here for for the last 10 months doing the same thing it was doing at the old apartment for God knows how long. Until last week. We finally took her in to the shop where they took good care of her. They gave her a new chain, new brake pads, new tires, and air tubes. And after an hour or so of scrubbing I was able to get rid of most of the rust and to my surprise the bike shined and looked like new! well...more like "old new" which is just as exciting to me.

So, today I road this bike to work for the maiden flight. It felt a little like flying compared to my other bike. Maybe it's just the thrill of making old things new again.

Dad

2010-02-17T17:16:00.001-08:00

Visiting Aunt Lola

Dad's shadow

Today I remember Dad. He was such a good man. And an even better father. I remember my dad being kind, loving, and funny. He loved being outside and he had a green thumb. I remember his voice and his laugh. And I remember his colossal sneezes that I could sometimes hear from all the way out in the front yard and I remember his snoring. He was a great BBQ griller and he loved his double cheese burger from IN N' OUT. It's strange to think that he's been gone now for as long as he was physically present as my father. Fourteen years sounds like such a long time.

Each year it's a little different. The anniversary often releases memories and emotions that I keep buried during the rest of the year. Both the pleasant and unpleasant ones. Not knowing what to expect today I decided that what I needed was to go where I could feel a little more connected to him. So Erik and I packed some things and headed out to Azusa Canyon. It was beautiful. The creek was a full rushing blue-green river because of the recent heavy rains and the sound of it bounced off the canyon walls. The hillsides were green and hawks flew overhead. It was a day that Dad would have loved.

Today I felt Peace.

It was as though he was walking with us on the trail today.

Trapped!

2010-02-07T13:38:00.000-08:00

Rain. It's a much needed quenching of the dry and thirsty southern California soil. It's a gift from above. Rejoice!

I felt very thankful for the first storm.

"Good!" I thought, "Now all I want to do is watch the rain. I'll just kick back and let myself relax...no errand running. No driving. No going anywhere...this is great!" And it was.

Then there were a couple more rainy days. And I could feel my feet itching to get outside. But it was coming down too hard to bike anywhere. "OK...I can handle another afternoon cozied up in our house. No biggie."

And then there was the last storm. The one that finally stole my sanity.

I sat and listened to the rain as the white noise it had become. Picked up a book. Put it down. Picked up a couple others. Put them back on the shelf. I was frustrated with my incredible disinterest and with the noise of the rain. Feeling Zombie-like I picked up some yarn and sort of unconsciously crocheted a beanie and listened to a podcast about OCD that left me wondering, "Do I have OCD?". Not helping. At all. I finished the beanie and added it to the grocery bag full of beanies I've made, feeling annoyed that I've made so many for no apparent reason. (Anyone want one?) I saw that Jake's expression captured my inner state perfectly and so I grabbed the camera, took some photos and sat down again.

"What I wouldn't give to be able to work on the garden right now...or to go for a run or even a frickin WALK!"

And I had my Charlie Brown moment.

"AAAaaaaaarrrrrgggggh!"

The rain poured down heavier and seemed to say sinisterly,

"Youuuuuuuu are ttttraaaaapppppped! Mmmmwwwaaaahahahaha!"

"I. NEED. OUT!!!"

I'm afraid my patience has been waring because as much as I like the idea of being stuck at home with nothing better to do but curl up with a good book and listening to the sound of falling rain I am eventually and inevitably possessed by a force more powerful than the thunderstorm that rattles our windows. I'm talking about severe cabin fever. Being cooped up for too long and at the the mercy of Jake's (our beagle) bathroom breaks has left me feeling a little crazy. OK...REALLY crazy.

So, today I thank God for sunshine by taking myself and my dog for a much needed and appreciated hike through Eaton Canyon. but not before washing my hands 7 times. ;) Just kidding.

Gotta love the freebees...

2010-01-31T16:11:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I did my fair share of tree climbing. We have this great avocado tree in our backyard that is just FULL of the most delicious avocados. And as much as I LOVE eating avocados...I have my limit. They are too good to NOT share with people. So, with my backpack heavy with those bright green beauties I made my way to the Pasadena Armory Center for the Arts for the free market bazaar. I also brought a box of random things that were really just taking up space in our little house. As I was walking toward the Armory I saw people heading the same direction, boxes and bags of STUFF in hand. I saw a girl leaving the event with her own bag of new found goodies AND a snowboard! Hosted by the Arroyo Time Bank, this event brought many together to give their unwanted or unneeded things a loving home. All kinds of things were set out on tables, where they were sorted and snatched up by enthusiastic participants. One persons trash really is another persons treasure

There was definitely a good vibe going on. After all, how could there not? There were free clothes, shoes, books, household items, toys, and jewelry among other things. And to top it off there was an impressive food table where people set out bags of fresh fruit picked from backyard trees, cakes, and salads. I saw a couple people bring in trays of sandwiches they had so generously made for everyone.

There is something so cool about the redistribution of goods, especially when you are directly involved. As I put out my stuff people immediately gravitated.

"These are BEAUTIFUL dishes!" one woman said.
"They're yours for the taking." I said.
"Wow! Thank you. I needed some of these." she said.

Now she wont have to buy any. When Erik showed up after he got off work we spotted another woman who found the stuff I set out. You could tell she was excited to have found them. And they were just sitting on a shelf at our place. Unloved and unused.

Most of us have so much STUFF that, when we get totally honest with ourselves, we just don't need. We all hold on to our stuff for lots of reasons...
Guilt is a big one. That sweater mom gave you for Christmas 2 years ago that you've maybe worn two times (when she came over for dinner or something :)), yeah...get rid of it. Someone out there could use another layer. Why not give it to someone who thinks it's the best sweater in the whole universe? I promise I wont tell Mom.

So, I told you what I gave away. Those avocados were gone before I could turn around. Want to know what I got? for FREE?! only the best thing I could have found there...

a cast iron skillet!!!

I've been wanting one for a while and it literally just appeared before my eyes!

Ahhh the beauty of redistribution.

Jake the model

2010-01-22T00:31:00.000-08:00

So, I turned around and caught Jake acting like a human again. It's funny. It weirds me out sometimes though. He sits like this in the back seat of our car too. Just staring out the window...looking human-like.

He's a good pup.

Happy Birthday!

2010-01-07T15:45:00.000-08:00

As I bid farewell to my twenty-seventh year I wonder what twenty-eight will bring.

It’s funny how life is always changing from moment to moment let alone year to year. But I believe people stay the same. Obviously our appearances change. We gain or lose weight, height, muscle mass, hair, good posture, and teeth. The way we express ourselves often changes. We learn or forget how to gather our thoughts and feelings down on the page, into music, through movement and on stage and in conversation. Our interests will change. We pick them up or toss them aside like stones. Some more precious than others. Human relationships inevitably change and can trick us into believing that we are somehow better or worse because we are accepted or rejected by, or date or are married to “so and so”. They are all leaves on a tree. Growing. Dying. Falling. Drying up.

But we are the same. I am the same person I have always been. You are the same person you have always been.

Thank God the entangled mass of choking vines of great expectations, insecurity, failure, fear, death -to name a few- do not and have never defined us! Our losses and our gains are but leaves. Withering grasses. Our greatest achievements are but dust. We are free from it all!

Now, to learn to simply be. Just be.

I hope that my 28th year is everything it is meant to be. Life abundant!

I found my other blog...

2009-12-22T11:58:00.000-08:00

...and I've decided to transform it into something else. There was only one entry so I'm storing it here with the rest of my reflective writings. It's a novel. It was supposed to be the first of a handful of writings about our trip to Guatemala last summer, but it still stands alone. Maybe I'll dig up my travel journal and pick up where I left off.

Friday, August 29, 2008
Guatemala 2008
GUATEMALA AUGUST 2008

We’ve been back for a couple of weeks. The trip is beginning to feel more and more like a dream to me. Everything is beginning to get a little fuzzy, which is why I am writing all of this down now, before my memory escapes me. For me Guatemala was an incredibly positive experience. Beautiful. Rich. It was Holy and difficult. Difficult? Yes, at times it was extremely challenging, but the challenge and the act of being stretched to the limit at times is what gave this experience such deep value. I am speaking only for myself though, understanding that my experience was not the experience of some of my friends who shared in this particular adventure.
For some “home” couldn’t come soon enough. People were tired and tattered from the seemingly endless days and sometimes nights of trekking through valleys and over mountains. One hike after another would lead to one unexpected problem to the next; a giant domino effect of misfortune. A broken ankle, some broken spirits, and a lot of broken trust made it difficult for some to see below the surface of all the discomfort people were experiencing.
Needless to say, this was not an easy trip. I experienced fatigue and frustration just like the rest of the team. And I spent the latter half of the trip sick with diarrhea, but it’s all part of the package of being in a foreign country. I signed up for this and never regretted it for a single moment.
This trip was probably the most physically demanding experience of my life so far. But it was freeing and I have been in desperate need to experience even a taste of freedom from comfortable day-to-day living in Pasadena. For the first time I felt the necessity and joy in shedding some of the extra baggage that I carry as a privileged American. All of the comforts of being clean and dry and safe were not at our disposal like they are here in the states. But I learned that there are very few comforts that I actually need. Sometimes these comforts are only weights that slow us down. In fact the more I tried to hold on to them the tougher it was to make it through the difficult times. I was being taught surrender.
I figure that I will write about the trip story by story when I feel inspired or when something jogs my memory. These stories will most likely not be in chronological order…but I am hoping share a lot of what happened with all of you. Enjoy!

Do as the Locals Do…translates into Wear What the Locals Wear…Especially on Your Feet:

The rain was pouring down and we were walking through stretches of cow pasture, through the mud and shit. We were ankle deep in the stuff. We had been for a while now. I brought bad shoes. Sandals in fact. Keens to be more specific. And Keens are not made for this kind of terrain, nor are they made for women who have narrow feet. I have very narrow feet. It was at this point that I started to think about going barefoot the rest of the way. I pictured myself pitching these damned shoes into the jungle as hard as I could. They flew fast into the trees. I’ve always had a good arm. I throw like a boy. At least that’s what I’ve been told. Anyway, I decided against that idea because they were my only pair of shoes and I hadn’t seen any of the locals going barefoot. They were all wearing black rubber boots. I wanted their black rubber boots. “Do as the locals do,” is a concept that I have complete confidence in now. Next time.
I remember before this point in the journey I was carefully stepping to the side of the muddy path, trying as hard as I could to avoid the sludge. This was partly because I had sandals on but I HATE the mud. I’ve always hated it. Even when I played soccer in high school: everyone LOVED playing in the rain because of the mud. They would slide tackle and then rub mud all over their arms and faces, chasing each other and throwing mud at each other like it was a snowball fight. I don’t mind snowball fights. We took pictures at the end of rainy day games because everyone would be so damned dirty and that made for a good and funny group shot. I would be the only clean one. Sparkling…and even though it LOOKED as if I sat the bench it was never the case…I was simply determined not to get muddy. I thought about this every few steps when there was no avoiding the sludge. My foot sunk in deep and emerged with no shoe. “This is going to be a long and frustrating walk,” I thought. By the time we got to the cow pasture it was like we were walking through swamps. I decided that I should get used to it sooner rather than later for my own sake.
God only knows how much beauty I missed because my eyes were scanning the muddy ground for the “cleanest” place to step. Next time I will get some of those rubber boots. As for my Keens…I thought about trashing them. You know…burning them or something. But my mother-in-law told me that she had been looking for shoes like mine only she didn’t want me to be irritated by her copying me. Ha! I gave them over happily and with a strict warning that they are not to be worn for hiking in tropical mountainous places. She was very happy to receive and I was even happier to give those suckers up. Live and learn.

Monterey Bay Aquarium

2009-12-12T10:47:00.000-08:00

Erik and I visited the Monterey Bay Aquarium during our road trip in October. It's amazing to think about how there is a whole other world beneath the surface of the ocean. They have a Sea Horse exhibit that is absolutely mind blowing. Those little guys look like the creatures of fairy tales!

Sunflowers and Good Advice from Sylvia Plath

2009-11-22T21:22:00.000-08:00

"...once again love life day by day, color by color, touch by touch, because you've got a body and mind to exercise, and that is your lot, to exercise and use it as much as you can, never mind whose got a better or worse body and mind, but stretch yours as far as you can."

Just what I needed to hear.

Eating Animals

2009-11-14T16:09:00.000-08:00

On Sunday we went to Vromans to hear Jonathan Safran Foer speak about his latest book, Eating Animals. Neither of us had read any of his work but we were curious about his position on this particular subject. I started and finished it in 4 days and now consider it as one of the most important books I have ever read. It’s heartbreaking to say the least, but it’s the kind of heart break that people need in order to grow as ethical human beings. Eating is an important part of everyone’s daily lives and the information he presents gives readers the power to make conscious, educated and most importantly ethical decisions about how we go about it.

Did you know...?

"Animal agriculture makes a 40% greater contribution to global warming than all transportation in the world combined; it is the number one cause of climate change."

Isn't that insane?

This book answers the what's, where's, when's, how's and why's..but most importantly, he gets you to think about something that many people just DO because it's imbedded in our cultures and is woven into our traditions and ways of life. The question, "Should we continue the way we are heading?" is rarely a bad one to ask.

Half Dome

2009-11-02T16:47:00.000-08:00

That's me. I didn't realize how close to the edge I was until I saw the picture. Yikes!
So excited to have made it!
Erik is an enthusiastic kind of guy.
So am I.
On the trail.

After 5 hours of hiking we arrived at the base of that giant rock and said some very appropriate 'choice' words, along with "We're going to die!" I started to question whether it was the best idea for me to brave the cables or not. My body was feeling so tired already and now I could see how steep of a climb it actually was. It was straight up! The photos online did not do it justice. I thought about what it would feel like to lose my grip. To slide off. To fall thousands of feet to the valley below. And then I snapped out of it. Climb on.

After the first 30 seconds of climbing I felt the fear begin to take over. My breaths became shallow and I could feel the muscles in my hands and arms begin to shake. "Just keep going and DO NOT look back," I said aloud over and over again. I came to a woman on my left that we had seen on the trail a number of times. She was completely frozen with fear and crouched down with her arm looped around the metal cable. I tried to encourage her but she was too terrified to move so I had to reach around her and pass. About 15 minutes into our ascent my legs started cramping due to dehydration. That's when I started to freak out.

"It's ok babe. Focus. Right foot. Left. You're doing great." Erik's encouragement is what eventually got me to the top. We were on the ropes for about half and hour. Once we had reached the top we celebrated and then collapsed. We took some pictures and admired the wonderful view, making sure to soak it all up.

Aside from the rock itself, we were able to spend 10 or so hours surrounded by beauty that is unmatchable. It was a long and rewarding day.

MUSIC!

2009-10-30T14:53:00.000-07:00

Next Saturday, Erik and I will be playing a set at the "Be the Difference" benefit concert for Glen A. Wilson High School . There will be music all day long (11am to 4:30pm). We go on at 12:00 noon. Bring your friends!

When? 11/07/09
Where? 1605-1695 S. Azusa Ave, Hacienda Heights
And...it's FREE!

I would rather listen to something else. Thank you.

2009-10-21T20:43:00.000-07:00

I sometimes like the city. But I don't love it. I can appreciate the kind of life that dwells here. Homes filled with people and pets. Streets filled with much of the same and a little more. The pace can be exciting to me at times. Most times though it is too much for my senses.

Traffic.
Smog.

Concrete and asphalt spreading out as far as the eye can see.

NOISE.

The barrage of billboards sending streams of advertisements for the stuff of our consumer culture…they are always shouting at me. And I hate that.

“Welcome home kids. Welcome back to reality. Now, here is a list of things you need to do and buy in order to be happy/healthy/successful/etc. Lucky for you, yours is a kind and generous culture. We’ll give you 20% off your next purchase if you run out your door RIGHT NOW!”

What?

No.

Is it sad that what I like most about a city has little if nothing to do with the city itself? I am breath-taken by the yellow trumpet tree that lives on the median on Allen St. just south of the 210 freeway. I wonder if people in their cars are moving too fast to notice it’s golden presence. I must have passed it a hundred times before I saw it. It seems so out of place.

Where are all the trees? Buildings and parking lots should seem out of place rather than trees. Why do we insist on replacing natural things with unnatural things?

Anyway…

We packed our little car with our camping gear earlier this month and hit the road for a couple of weeks to celebrate our two-year anniversary. It was a much needed get away from all of the above. It was a time to center ourselves and to take in the beauty of God’s creation. The grandeur of Yosemite provided a corrected perspective of things:

I am so very small…God has created such incredible beauty out of much tougher things than me. Why do I let myself forget that he is always loving and careful with his creation, including me? He carved and shaped this valley out of rock and ice. He brings the rains that fill the rushing rivers and the smallest creeks. He formed me in my mother’s womb. Amazing.

And that was the thought that continually came to me in some form or another as we slowly and happily traveled down the wild central California coast. Stopping at every other turn out to admire the view of the powerful waves crashing against the rocks. We were both filled with amazement by the natural beauty we experienced over the course of our trip.

Needless to say, it is difficult to come back to all of this noise. And there is so much of it. And if there is one thing that I have brought home with me from our last couple of weeks, it’s that everything that shouts over His still small voice is completely expendable.

Why I love Fall.

2009-10-02T13:42:00.000-07:00

Fall is finally here. I can see the change in the morning light. The air feels crisp and smells like trees and damp earth. I welcome her with open arms and sheer delight! Because with Fall the memories are so easy to reach. All of my senses take me back to the loveliest places...a family trip to Zion, hiking with Dad, trick-or-treating with friends, rainy days in elementary school, visits to Oak Glen with my Aunt Ellen, the smell of hot apple cider and cinnamon...

And more recent memories of love. The butterflies in my chest as I stood alone in that little room looking out through the lace curtains at my husband to be. The last of the wedding party slowly and carefully making their way down the uneven path. The golden late afternoon sunlight shining through the pretty twisted trees that shaded our guests.

And the music stops.

sweaty palms,
nervous stomach,
deep breaths.

Here we go.

Holding my bouquet making sure that Dad's pocket watch was properly attached and displayed. I think he walked with me that day. I felt a certain comfort that only he could give me.

My Godfather knocks. "OK kid, this is it. You ready?"

"Yes. I am ready."

I placed my arm in his and we headed down the uneven pathway that led to Erik. Uncle Ron and I made a deal that if one of us fell then the other would fall down too to share in the moment. Lucky for us there was no need for such self sacrifice. Carefully we passed the musicians, friends, family, and some unfamiliar faces...but mostly familiar and loving faces. There were some people there who would end up getting their panties in a bunch because of where they were sitting or because I didn't get around to saying much to them at the reception. Ahhh...weddings. But for now they smiled as they should.

I don't remember who was out in the crowd. I think I only looked out there twice. My eyes were happy and fixed on my groom. The man who had suddenly showed up and awakened my heart only a year earlier. It was a summer night when we were talking in a parking lot in the bed of the El Camino and somewhere in the long hours of conversation I knew beyond a doubt that he was my "one".

As I stood there trying to be completely present...trying to absorb everything, the words of love and blessings from Father John and Pastor Jennifer, the image of Erik's beaming face into my memory, trying to feel everything...I thought, "You. You are giving your heart to me. And I am giving my heart to you. I knew you were out there somewhere! I could feel you."

I am so glad it was you.

Dreams!

2009-07-18T02:49:00.000-07:00

This is my plan...

Some day soon we will sell everything we've got (save a few necessities: guitar/some good books/and a few sentimental treasures...oh! and our furry friends Zooey and Jake-and possibly our goldfish Dr. Wilbur. Ever seen What About Bob?...Gil survived in a peanut butter jar!). We will use that money to purchase the perfect VW CAmper bus with a pop top and then we'll hit the road for a very long time.

There is a big world out there and I have every intention of experiencing it BEFORE the golden years of retirement. Who says I'll even live that long? And who says that I won't be blind or deaf or incredibly dull by that time? I hope not, but you just never know.

Finished!

2009-07-12T21:29:00.000-07:00

So, I'm sad to say that I've never been much of a reader. I was always too busy thinking up my own stories as a kid and avoided books like the plague as a teenager. It's a damn shame. But now that I've buckled down and read Steinbeck's East of Eden I can celebrate my victory over lazy neglect of at least one truly good thing. And I am better for it.

I could not put this book down for fear that I might miss something. Of course, it's a book...I wouldn't miss anything, but it was so alive that I FELT like the beauty would go on without me like the painted sky at sunset growing more vibrant by the second and then quickly fading into grey. I didn't want to look away.

This story is everyone's story. It's an honest picture of what it means to be human.

The character's struggles are raw and ugly... revolting even. But they are REAL. And though they may take a different shape in our own lives, we hold the same darkness deep in the forgotten corners of our hearts. One might think that to be terribly depressing, but I have found great freedom in this. Both the mystery and important truths concerning our capability for evil and for good are woven tightly through all 600 pages of this powerful story.

We are not very different from one another. We want and also fear the same things: To be loved is the treasure that outshines all others. To be left unloved is a terrifying existence...the poorest existence even.

I don't really know how else to describe this book. I've been sitting here for a very long time editing this post and I just can't find the right words to say...I guess I'm still processing. BUT, what I will say is that this is one of the richest stories I've ever read and I encourage you to read it if you haven't already.

The White Rabbit

2009-06-27T09:29:00.000-07:00

Emerson, Erik and Mufasa?

2009-06-25T16:50:00.000-07:00

I believe that the best remedy for the tidal wave of frustration and anxiety that follows the event of being made to feel small and inferior is to do something you enjoy and perhaps are good at. Not out of spite, but simply as a reminder that you are more than what they say you are.

So, last night I joined my talented husband in some drawing time. It's been a long time since I have allowed myself to sit and draw. As a child I would draw every chance I could get and now I've discovered that my love for it is still alive and well. It just needed to be brought out into the light again.

It amazes me when I think about how, as kids, most of us automatically did whatever it was that we loved to do. Boldly and without a second thought I would draw and write for hours at a time. Nowadays, as an adult, too often there needs to be a justifiable reason for what some people would consider "wasting time." When did drawing become a waste of time? Where did that thought come from? My practical wet blanket side of me gets in the way of the kid in me as I am sure yours does too.

Ralph Waldo Emerson illustrates this battle in his essay Self Reliance He says things like:

"Society everywhere is in conspiracy against the manhood of every one of its members...The virtue in most request is conformity. Self-reliance is it's aversion. It (conformity) loves not realities and creators but names and customs."

"What I must do, is all that concerns me, not what the people think."

"Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string."

"The power which resides in him is new in nature, and none but he knows what that is which he can do, nor does he know until he has tried."

and

"...live ever in a new day..."

Whenever I am feeling out of touch with myself I turn to this essay. His words offer courage and hope to tired souls like you and me. I highly recommend that you read it and re-read it.

But having another person in your life that truly knows you and sees and adores ALL of what makes you YOU is something that will save you from giving in to a world that wants to make you into something else. This is one of the things I love about Erik. He is always defending the kid in me. I am confident that if I ever came home with news that I got a job as an accountant or something he would gently sit me down and put a pen and sketch pad in my hands and probably a guitar in my lap. And maybe hold up a mirror in front of me and say...

"This is you."

and then he would say something funny like...

"Remember who you are Simba"

FAILED CAMP COUNSELOR

2009-06-21T00:23:00.000-07:00

I've realized some important things about myself over this past week. It was my first week of work at the Arboretum and I'll sum it up by giving a few details. Let's just say that it's not what I expected.

On Friday I dragged myself toward the parking lot all the while thinking, "Man...this is WAY more intense than they made it out to be during the interview," and "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!"

Now, I've had a lot of experience working with children and unfortunately that is what KEEPS me in positions like the one that I am in now. It's difficult to make any sort of career change when all the experience I have is kid related. I was totally thrilled when they hired me because (1) I would be doing something that I have done before (working with kids) (2) I would be teaching "art"...this as it turns out is not really the case (3) I would be working outside on the beautiful grounds of the L.A. Arboretum. Sounds picture perfect doesn't it?

But I forgot some important things about myself.

I like kids. I really do. They're cute and funny...some of the time. Then there are those other times. Another thing is that I like kids in small doses.

Small controllable doses. Small enough for me to actually speak and be heard the first, second...hell...even on a third attempt.

If kids don't listen to me when I am giving instructions, say on how to glue something on to another thing...or how to wash out a paintbrush so your colors don't mix, I tend to stop for a moment. I wait for them to settle down (which almost never happens because we're dealing with 5 year olds for crying out loud) and then I just keep giving my instructions. I give my instructions to the air and they fly away, bouncing off cute little deaf ears and the obnoxious cries of the peacocks in the distance.

I don't enjoy raising my voice. Some people can shout for hours and still be happy and energetic. I end up feeling like a deflated balloon. And one thing I really don't want is to come home from work looking and feeling like a deflated balloon.

It's not just the kids. In fact...they are the least of my anxieties. I've put a lot of effort into preparing for this job. Long have been the hours of collecting recycled materials, researching projects, DOING projects, and planning. But this first week my boss has expressed her many disappointments with my job performance...in not so direct ways like:

"yeah...you know showing up 15 minutes before class MIGHT be a little short for adequate prep time..." (I was 40 minutes early and set up BUT she didn't see that so of course it doesn't count...funny how that works)

and another:

"Well, I would have been prepared but I wasn't planning on doing this project that you are just now telling me about. I had another project planned out for today," I said.

"Oh...and what project was THAT?" Her tone was dripping with condescending suspicion, insinuating that I hadn't planned anything at all.

Nice. I love this job. I love all jobs where I am accused of being lazy. It's good for my self-esteem. Of course, my written description of this experience doesn't capture it completely. Not even close. But starting Monday I will have more time to work on my writing skills. Three cheers for that. I give myself a gold star for looking at the bright side of my approaching unemployment.

And now, after a nice Saturday of sleeping in and watching the rain outside my window I am able to laugh a little at how ridiculous it all is. The chaos is much too much for the compensation and my sanity.

Where O where do we draw the line between necessary and unnecessary discomfort? My opinion? and for my life? It all depends. Is it going to pay off to stay in school and rack up heaps and heaps of loans only to be aimless and broke? Some would say yes. I would say no. Is a month long summer camp job worth losing sleep about? Do I need to be dreaming about film canisters and jar lids swirling about my head ( i know. creepy and weird)? Uhhh...no and no.

...and that's just sad.

Kudos to those who can hang with the summer camps. You have my highest respect. I offer you all a giant pat on the back for all the sweat, tears, and thankless hours you give of yourselves because I know you're either you're not getting paid enough or you're just simply not getting paid at all. If only kudos paid the bills.

I think I wrote something about failing in an earlier blog. ha. I think I said something like, "it's all just part of the game folks."

So it goes.

A pep-talk, Rice, and Beans

2009-06-04T22:55:00.000-07:00

Last night Erik and I went to the Largo to see the Watkins Family Hour. My main reason for dishing out for this particular show was because Fiona Apple, my musical hero, was going to be a special guest performer. When I saw her name on the list I immediately called to order tickets. But I had to WAIT to hear back from the Largo ticket guy to tell me if I got them or not. The anticipation was killer. I kept thinking about all the times I have gone to the Largo in hopes that she would show up. A few friends of mine have been there for that. I had not been so lucky. Gillian Welch showed up last time and that was great, but i couldn't help but be a little disappointed that Fiona didn't magically appear up on stage too. My high hopes fall hard sometimes.

But not this time.

We got tickets and drove out to L.A. It was a great show. I love watching musicians that LOVE to play. I love it when I get to watch people in their element, doing exactly what they were created to do. It's absolute magic. But when she finally came out toward the end of the show it was a whole different level of inspiration. They called Fiona out and we gave her an enthusiastic welcome. She walked out onto the stage looking a little shy and slightly disheveled. She stood there small and quiet aside from her nervous giggling.

Then the music began to play and we were all slammed in the face by her giant voice.

She was completely possessed by the music. It's as if everyone else in the room disappeared and she was suddenly IN IT. Her emotions were in it. You could tell by her face that she felt the songs. Her body was in it. She did not hold back. She let the music shake her like a rag doll. She shouted and reached for notes that no one would dare attempt to hit during a performance. And the most inspiring part is that she didn't always hit them AND...she didn't care. She wasn't there to give us a perfect performance. She was there because she loves the music.

More than anywhere else, that is where I want to be. I want to be IN IT. No more inhibitions. Give me untamed PASSION for whatever it is that I may be doing at the time. No more half-assing my music...or anything for that matter. My half-assing is just my ugly ugly fear of failure no matter how I try to justify it. Yours probably is too. But failure is just another part of the game folks...it's kind of a given. So, once we "get" that it's not such a terrible thing after all, we are free to follow our hearts and noses past the dead ends we'll most certainly meet and on to be more fully alive in our own unique element.

Waiting for the perfect time or circumstances to do what you love will most likely never ever present itself. That's why you've got to just jump in headfirst and do it now. If you don't have time, make time and make sacrifices...even if it means that you'll be livin' on rice and beans. At least you'll be happy and free.

Happy birthday Egbert

2009-06-03T00:50:00.000-07:00

Meet Egbert...he's the first of many that will be created by my students this summer. He is made of a metal coat hanger, some news paper, wheat paste and a neat-o seed pod. Man, I am really looking forward to this. Today I went to this place in L.A. called ReDiscover for some supplies and I felt like a kid in a candy store. Floor to ceiling STUFF!!! Baby food jars, egg cartons, fabric scraps, giant cardboard tubes, tile, ETC!

It feels so good to dive in to something creative. Making something cool out of "junk"...that's one of the best feelings in the universe.

Familiarity

2009-05-24T18:51:00.000-07:00

Our reunions have a way of clearing out the dust that can sometimes accumulate on my spirit. I sometimes forget how much of ME has been born out of these priceless relationships. But then of course I am reminded on the rare occasion where all of us are able to return "home" for an afternoon or even an hour. A familiar voice. A familiar place. A familiar feeling of peace and of being accepted and embraced just as I am.

Yesterday, we celebrated Lacee's engagement with an afternoon of trying on wedding dresses and recovering with lunch. We found ourselves sitting on the same couch in the same shop where 3 of us purchased our wedding dresses. So it has become a sweet and sentimental tradition. As I sat there watching Lacee staring at herself as a "bride" for the first time I was overwhelmed. Jenae was the first to stand in front of that giant mirror. Lacee cried when she came out. Then it was Dani. And not too long ago it was I who stood there excited and nervous (not to mention completely disgusted by how expensive an article of clothing could be!) My mind was suddenly flooded by vivid memories

I have known all of them since 1st grade or so. Our little souls were introduced to each other through interwoven experiences of a church children's choir, soccer, and Mrs. Finkbinder's 1st grade class. But it wasn't until Jr. high that we became "the four of us."

In February of 8th grade, my dad committed suicide. His death was a sort of line in the sand if you will. Some friends seemed to back away slowly...unsure of how to be my friend through such an intense and unusual loss. Suicide is a dirty reality check, especially to kids. You can't really blame people for being afraid.

But these were the three that stepped over the line and saw me through the hardest time in my life.

I think trials are the super-glue in friendships. Laughter takes a close second place. Very close. But trials take the cake. You can connect through laughter but when you have been to hell and back with someone the roots go down deep. And the reality is, if your friends haven't seen you cry and shake your fist at the heavens, they haven't seen you. At least the whole you.

It's true. People change. WE have changed quite a bit as individuals and are walking our own paths and staying true to our own convictions about life and love and happiness. And though we may not understand each others ways, we most certainly try to. And trying is what really counts when it comes to making friendships last.

Words can't express how grateful I am to have shared so many years of friendship with these incredible human beings. They hold up a mirror that many times show me who I really am when life has tried to turn me into something else. And they encourage me with their own unique strength and beauty to live life to the fullest and with a fantastic sense of humor.

Thanks girls. I love you to pieces.

Back in time?

2009-05-17T23:15:00.000-07:00

As I said before, Erik and I have been getting to know our new neighborhood. We were explorers this weekend, walking the streets and popping our heads into new doors including one of a great salvadorean place called La Caravana. The food was delicious! The handmade pupusas were fantastic and brought back fond memories of our visit to Guatemala last summer. I am easily thrown back in time by familiar tastes and smells.

Earlier this evening we made our way up to The Coffee Gallery Backstage hoping to see Janet Klein and the Parlor boys' perform. It turned out that the show started an hour earlier than I had thought AND tickets were twenty bucks a pop...twenty dollars more than we had bargained for. Oh well. I'm not a die hard fan, but she is an interesting character and I enjoy that old jazz kind of sound. She and the band came out to the front of the shop during what I am guessing was the intermission. They walked by and for a split second I had forgotten what time era we were in. If you look her up you'll understand what I mean.

Though we missed the show, we stayed to enjoy a couple of drinks people watched. The shop is great...nice people, lots of space, good drinks and interesting art. AND they serve breakfast (my favorite meal of the day)! They have a bookshelf that hold lots of books you can exchange for. Bring in one you don't really want anymore and you can take your pick! I suspect this place will be my new home away from home.

Breathing easy

2009-05-15T10:18:00.000-07:00

I am feeling more lighthearted lately. Things seem to be looking up. Erik and I moved into this great little back house in north Pasadena just off of Lake Ave. It was sad leaving our old neighborhood. Our little tree house above all the happenings of Allen and Colorado was everything we hoped it would be aside from a few bumps here and there (like that neighbor who called the cops on me claiming that I was playing LOUD music on an electric guitar...I wasn't. I was playing Amazing Grace on my acoustic when the police officer came knocking on our door...such haters! Another bump? We weren't allowed to have animals so we had to hide our cat Zooey for a year, pulling her away from the sunny windows that looked down onto the street. So sad! )

Now we can play music, enjoy our animals, and breathe a little easier at our new place. Here we are appreciating the opportunity to spend our days doing the things we enjoy most without the worry of tattletales peering at us through a hole in the fence.

Hip-hip...HOORAY!

All the questions

2009-02-18T16:57:00.000-08:00

Wow. So, here I am again...feeling a little bit lost in the silence of this time in my life. It's not bad. It's just quiet and a little unsettling if I think about it for too long. The questions are still looming overhead like clouds. I would like to learn to sit back and enjoy them. Mom gave Erik a magnet for Christmas last year. It seems to have been written for me and for today. Funny how that works.

"I beg you... to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. and the point is, to live everything. live the questions now. perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer..."
~Rainer Maria Rilke

I want in.

2009-01-21T11:01:00.000-08:00

I am filled with hope. As I watched the inauguration ceremony yesterday morning, I felt my anger and frustration toward our country literally melt away. The sea of people united in love and enthusiasm for this new beginning took my breath away. It still takes my breath away. We hunger for peace and love and change. The people of the United Stated had enough faith and hunger in goodness to speak it all into existence. Well done.

Like the ice and bitter cold of a long drawn out winter, the troubles of war and indifference toward our planet and each other seemed as if it would never leave.

But the sun shines. It is warm and promising. And my eyes are directed away from our failures and toward this new light of change.

All I could write in my journal this morning was, "I want in. I want to get in the game." I'm not sure of what my part is in all of this change, but am ready. I don't know if my passion is just a tiny piece of the fire in all of our bellies as a nation, but I want to do my part to contribute. I think a lot of us are ready and willing to take responsibility for our part in building a more loving and peaceful world.

Thank God for his grace and for making all things new.

"Arise, my beloved, my beautiful one, and come!
For see, the winter is past,
The rains are over and gone.
The flowers appear on the earth,
The time of pruning the vines has come,
And the song of the dove is heard in our land."
~Song of Songs 2:11-12

You are Invited to my bon fire party

2009-01-19T09:34:00.000-08:00

There are few people out there who are completely at peace with themselves. They may like themselves in Summertime but not in Winter because of some sort of change that throws off their routine. They could be happy but guilt follows them around closer than their own shadow. They could break free from old habits but they can't envision themselves any differently. So, they stay put, closing all their windows and doors to sit in the darkness of what is familiar and 'safe', breathing in the stale air that smells of dust and mildew. This could be you. It is certainly me much of the time.

May I introduce to you, my little shack of self-destructive wallowing. Let's call it BlaaaawalloweeepieVille:

I don't really know where I am going at the moment. There are lots of uncertainties. Jobs are proving to be a bit unstable. I am no longer in seminary (by choice..I was NOT banished, though that would make for a much better story). Most of the friends who truly know me have moved far away. And I do not like talking on the telephone so this makes me feel friendless and unknown even when I am not. Here in BlaaawalloweepieVille I make my bed feeling lost and forgotten. It is a lonely little place, but for some reason I do not easily walk away from it.

But sometimes I do. On good days I open the door and stand outside. This is a good practice. It gets me back in touch with reality again.

Sitting out on our porch early in the morning I listen to the birds singing their songs and watch the squirrels chase each other up and down the olive tree. They are not worried. They are perfectly at peace with doing what they were made to do. They are content in their song even when the seasons change.

As I watch them I sink into my own contentment. I breathe in the morning and am happy to be alive.

And seeing as my overall New Years resolution is to be fully ALIVE and not just going through the motions...especially if they are of the self sabotaging kind, I think it's time to burn BlaaawalloweepieVille to the ground.

That's good news.

And even better news is that you are all invited. So bring your lawn chairs, blankets, loved ones, hangers and marshmallows, graham crackers and chocolate bars. I have a deep love for bon fire parties.

My Family

2009-01-11T21:08:00.000-08:00

So, I turned 27 on Thursday. It's a little strange to think that I am now into my LATE twenties. Time passes so quickly. Last night we went out to dinner with my mom, Aunt Linda, cousin Greg (who's birthday we were also celebrating), his girlfriend and my other cousin Ryan. Tokyo Waco was an interesting pick. I was amused by our personal chef. He was doing all the tricks and such that most people go there for...but with zero enthusiasm. He was bored. And that made everything funnier for some reason. He made a choo-choo train with a steaming stack of onion rings (noises and all), a Pac-Man with the fried rice, he flipped a few eggs in the air and into his tall white chef hat.

Anyway, Greg was saying something about our birthdays. He mentioned that he turned 31 and that my turning 27 isn't that bad but when i turn 30 that's when everything goes downhill. That's what a lot of people say. I don't know why.

At some point during our dinner it hit me. I remember spending birthdays and holidays with my cousins when we would roller-skate in the driveway and play hide and seek. I remember being small. All three of us used to be small and innocent, untouched by the troubles of the world around us. We took to setting up haunted houses and musical performances for the whole family, or if it was late enough we would set up forts with sheets, pillows, tables and chairs.

I imagined our faces as children and then looked around the table at who we were now. So much has happened. So much death. Death in the form of divorce and suicide and all kinds of 'endings' of the safe and secure little lives we had. Through the last 10 years or so the little family that we all had left quietly drifted apart. I don't think we had enough strength to carry each other through to the other side. It was something that happened. I don't know if it was good or bad necessarily, but each individual turned to walk their own journey and fight their own battles.

I sat there watching them laugh and talk, or just sit there. I am very thankful for the answered prayer for healing and for becoming a family again. We have come a long way since our birthday parties at Bullwinkles. I am just amazed at how quickly it has all gone by and saddened by the time I've wasted by not being fully present in recent years.

But I think I'm ready now. I think we're all ready and eager to be a family again. The past is gone. I can't change the times we weren't there for each other, but I can and want to be present now.

Small Talk

2009-01-07T17:52:00.000-08:00

Hi, I’m new here. I gave up on my other blog about 5 months ago. I may only have written one entry, but it got awesome reviews.

So, one of the many resolutions I made for myself for 2009 is to give this another go.

With the world becoming more and more geared toward computer friendships rather than face to face meet ups for coffee and a friendly chat, I am hoping to make it easier for people to get inside my head by sharing my journey via blog. It has been my experience that the attention span of most people in social situations is shrinking fast these days. Not many stick around long enough to push through the surface conversation. Personally, I would rather skip the song and dance and cut to the chase.

You have to have ZING to keep someone’s attention. And that is why I named my blog, “My Own INCREDIBLE!!!!!! (echoooooo noises) Journey.” That’s the hook. If I could make it flash like Las Vegas, believe me I would.

Not really.

I am very bad at small talk. That’s why I don’t usually participate if it lasts for too long. I can only bullshit for about 30 seconds and then I check out…especially if it’s the same bullshit over and over again. BLAAAH. BLA. BLA.

There is this one woman who liked to introduce herself to us and ask us our names every single Sunday. The conversation would go as follows, word for word:

“Hi there, I’m ------------ . Are you new here?”

“Not really.”

“Oh. Well, welcome. What are your names?”

“I’m Jamie.”

“I’m Erik. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too Jamie and Aaron. I have to go. Bye!”

We’ve been attending this very small community for about 2 years! She must have finally got it because she stopped asking a couple of months ago. Good for her. Ha! Oh man…

And that is why I dislike small talk. So much of it is totally stupid.

Erik, my wonderful and thoughtful husband, even got me a ‘How to’ book to build up my small talk skills for my 26^th birthday…as a joke of course. We share the same dislike for the stuff. I laughed for hours when I opened that one.

I know I probably lost most of you by now. You might be texting someone or staring at a spot on your wall, or picking your nose. I should really invest in some Las Vegas flashy flash. Or maybe somehow sneak some methylphenidate into your PB&J.

More to come! I know you just can’t wait!