Disiderata

Go placidly amidst the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexatious to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass. Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul. With all its shams, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

--Max Ehrmann, 1927

(The INFP Manifesto)

sonnet 17

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

--Neruda 

I hope one day I understand. 

another favorite

If I could go through it all again,
the slender iron rungs of growing up,
I would be as young as any,
a child lost in unreality and loud music. --Robert Lowell

hindsight

I take back any (undeserved) feelings of superiority I harbored for "developing early" in middle school. I'd gladly exchange all invading gray hairs. TMI? Everyone bleeds. Or, half of you have. All of you will gray.

Irrational Fears

1. I will become homeless.

2. If I use the toilet in the dark, bugs will attack my rear end (gracias, Honduras).

3. Someone will push me into an oncoming train / subway as I wait next to the tracks.

4. There are basement cockroaches waiting for me to step on them or snuggle between bedsheets (this one has basis in reality-- except I'm no longer in Honduras).

contest

12o words or less

“Hidden branches of your family tree: 

Unexpected stories that changed the way you think of yourself or your family.”

          Picture a boy. Picture a train. Picture this boy on a train winding through New York at the close of the 19^th century. Before the train can stop, he is tossed into the waiting arms of strangers like his family had thrown out rotting potatoes in Ireland. Picture his parents waving goodbye forever, and picture the boy then turning to face a new harbor. Picture all of the stars overhead that aligned to guide this little boy on this large ship to this particular train and into the waiting arms of this new family. No actual pictures of these events exist, but it is enough for me to envision what a chance at life I nearly missed. 

Reflections December 29, 2012

I’m looking at photos of my students from the Christmas program and it feels like another lifetime ago.

The more I stay in this frigid artic, the less I want to leave. I’ve become as entrenched in this environment as the ice clinging to the ground. I don’t want to be uprooted again, I don’t want to be gone for so long. Six whole months. What if I become homesick?

Well, then I become homesick. And I move on.

Mom says I’m different. She says I’m calmer, that I don’t fly off the handle so much. And something else—she says I’m happier.

I ask her what she means—I want examples, specific instances to identify—but she can’t explain it any further.

I came with a checklist of items I wanted to bring back to Honduras. Shampoo, quinoa, socks, nail polish, shavers, a hair dryer—all have been filling up my suitcase until I realize this morning that I have less than ten pounds to spare.

I have a different sort of checklist now, a list of experiences I want to devour and savor before I’m whisked away. I want to see Les Miserables in theatres several times. Go ice skating at Rosa Parks Circle. Read a book. Lesson plan. Chase my dogs around at the park. Catch the eye of a cute boy. Drink wine with friends. And so much more.

I said before and mean it still—I didn’t leave Michigan to run away. And I didn’t leave Honduras wishing never to return. But 

__________________________________________

And that's where it ends. I don't know what was supposed to explain the "but"-- how I would have connected these thoughts in my mind. It wasn't something I planned to share. But... why not?