Are you an Ark or an Anchor?

When it rains it really does pour, and sometimes a lot of bad things happen to really good people - but no cliché can accurately describe what it’s like be in the eye of the storm while its raging. I’ve recently watched several friends endure storm after storm after earthquake after tornado after, well, you name it – it’s probably happened. Even as a mere onlooker I’m being blown away by the whiplash of impact after sudden impact and yet the grace with which these blows are being taken in stride is both dumbfounding and awe inspiring at the same time.

I have a lot of friends under black clouds right now – loss, uncertainty, injury, betrayal, sickness, and disappointment are plaguing way too many of the people I care about. Practically, logistically, and morally it has been easy to the point of being involuntary to push back against the wrecking balls that have been swinging violently in my par view. In doing so, I’ve gotten a lot of the “I’m sorry to ask you this, but…” or “I know you’re busy but…” or “I’m so sorry – I know this puts so much on you…” or “Thank you so much, you’re a life saver” or “You’re a saint”. No I’m really not… in fact, no to all of the above. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate that my friends are appreciative – but it actually strikes me as alarming - since when are such basic acts of human compassion perceived as acts of valor?

 As a society, have we fundamentally become so far removed from the “do unto others” mentality that it’s now considered an incredible act of kindness to actually come through for people? That’s incredulous. I really did seriously contemplate the opening of this can of worms, but decided after investing over twenty years into the art of saying exactly what I think, its not worth employing the filter now. I have always been of the 'pay it forward' school of thought – you do all the good you can, in all the ways you can, for all the people you can, for as long as you can. Period.  Why wouldn’t you? Because its not convenient, because there’s nothing in it for you, or because you're just too busy? Shame on you…

I have both weathered and witnessed many a rainy season in my almost twenty-two years of living, and for every monsoon, I can think of two kinds of people: the ones who built the arks, and the ones who dropped the anchors. The ark builders are the ones who see the red sky in the morning, have an ark built by high noon, and are dragging you onto it come hell and high water. The anchor droppers are the ones who see the same sky, run for the hills, and drop their anchor – pleading themselves as a source of stability from a distance, but never gaining enough mobility to come through for you: AKA the textbook fair weather friend. I’ll tell you a little secret – 90% of my ark builders have no idea that their support was an ark in a flood of biblical proportions – but you can bet your bottom dollar I’d do the exact same for them on any given day without giving a moments pause to consider the storm I’ve just decided to weather. Maybe that makes me crazy and irrational, but I’ll take that over the shallow apathetic alternative.

It all comes back to how your treat people. I have seen marriages fail, friendships destroyed, love lost, and reconciliation denied all because self-absorption and complacency takes precedent over basic human compassion. You take care of the people who take care of you… Perhaps that is the point at which grace abounds.

So when the monsoon comes, which are you – the ark or the anchor? 

To all of my ark builders, thank you… and to my anchor droppers, thank you too – you’ve taught me twice the lesson.

Love fearlessly.

241

Apocalyptic Revelations

So, just in case you haven’t been in tune to the greater portion of the east coast – we have endured an apocalypse of sorts. A Derecho storm ripped and roared through here on Friday night, rivaling the tornado producing storms I used to only encounter living in Oklahoma, and leaving comparable damage in its wake. So much so that walking out the front door of my house the next morning – one of the only few with power in the entire Commonwealth – was like a bad combination of “Twister” and “After the Storm.” News stations reported the storm as “the most damaging storm in Virginia history.” You don’t say…

The day after was a day like any other – the sun came up, people had to go to work, cars were on the road, and a weekend full of weddings was upon us. My friend was one of the lucky ones getting married the day after the apocalypse. Little did any of us know, there was no power at the venue. That little detail seemed to escape the list of important things to tell the bride. Oops. Moving on – through an act of God himself and a hard working staff, the venue was beautified by the time we arrived, and despite no running water or electricity of any kind, we were off to a good start. Heading down the road to get the bride ready and what do we see? None other than a car EXPLODING into the air on the side of the road. No lie. Dodged that bullet. I forgot to mention the record-breaking heat wave we were encountering simultaneously with the storm. I am beginning to think the Mayans are onto something - it was literally so hot I saw the devil seeking shade. But, let me tell you what - for no power, no prior natural disaster back up plan, and with absolutely no warning - that wedding was absolutely breathtaking. I mean, would you look at that picture? Just look at it. No one would know it was no less than 100 degrees outside. I wish this beautiful couple all of the endless happiness they deserve - Mother Nature ain't got a thing on their wedding day.

So, while the world was busy surviving the apocalypse, I was encountering one of my own. The kind that build up inside when you let something fester, or when you’re about to make a potentially life altering decision. My dilemma was the latter. You see, I took this job working as a Public Relations associate at SAKinterMedia in April. I knew I would like it, but I have actually found myself hopelessly in love with this type of work. Let me preface the eye of the storm by saying I am about to be a senior Music Education major who has devoted the last 3.5 years of my life pursuing an education that prepares me for what has now been an 8 year burning desire to teach music… And guess what I don’t see myself doing anymore – teaching music. Therein lies the problem.

This personal apocalypse lies in the current war within myself to pursue a Masters in Education. I have sold my soul to grad school this summer to get ahead on my degree so that I am free to travel next summer. In doing so, I’ve sort of hit the career decision accelerator. I have to be pretty committed to being a teacher to purse a Masters in Education – the problem is, I’m not. Don’t get me wrong – I LOVE teaching music, always have, always will – but I think I falsified an illusion that teaching full time would be comparable to what I do in the summer when I teach leadership camps and band camps.

The intensive week-long camps where you get the kids at square one and by the time they go home they’re leaving with a sense of accomplishment, empowerment, and enthusiasm is where it’s at for me. I have always had a passion for those kinds of intense bursts of instilling positivity and cultivating change. I am a chronic people pleaser: I motivate others, I am constantly seeking new sources of inspiration, I strive to enable the dreams of others, and I experience success of my friends, family, and co-workers as equal to my own, if not greater. I am a people person – period.

I think my biggest fear in life is a 9-5 cubicle job. I am simply not cut out for it. I have nothing against those kinds of jobs, but personally, I’d be miserable. I am a creative person by nature; I am a seeker of solutions and a defiant of the impossible. I take it personally when people tell me something cannot be done. I need to be in an environment where I can apply creativity, work with people, and contribute positively to the world around me. I believe I have convinced myself that teaching music was the only way to ensure I could really do that – until now.

When I started this job in Public Relations I was handed a book called Idea-Links: The New Creativity by Jim Link. I read it, and it rocked my world. That book single-handedly instigated a complete metamorphosis of the way in which I experience life. The author talks about how every experience is a lesson, each relationship is a network, and that the secret behind every success is an Idea-Link. For clarification here is his definition: Idea-Link: (noun) a succinct insight or realization about why or how something works or succeeds that is stored into memory. He breaks creativity out of the confines of stereotypes and shows you, through experience and practical application, that successful creativity is achievable in any capacity. I salute you, Jim Link, that was news to me. 

Post reading the book I have consciously and perpetually logged all of my experiences since starting this job and have been absolutely stunned by the inter-connectivity of all of the things I love to do. Everything can work together: writing, music, photography, graphic design, networking, interacting with countless incredible people – it ALL links together. Music will always be a huge part of my life – it just might not BE my life in the way I have anticipated… and as foreign as that is to admit, I’m okay with it.

I am beyond over school, but I am committed to setting myself up with my best foot forward. Finishing a Masters in Education is not wasted time even though it feels like it – in fact I bet you I’ll have my own book of Idea-Links by the time I’m done. Every experience is connected, and I might have found my calling too little too late in the degree seeking world, but better late than never. It’s a good place to be when you have to pick between things that you love – I’m simply trading an old dream for a new one.

As for the revelations part of this - I said at the beginning of the year that I was setting out on a truth-seeking journey, externally and internally, called the Physics of the Quest – and I have. If you are truly willing to regard everything that happens to you on that journey as a clue and if you accept everyone you meet along the way as a teacher and if you are prepared, most of all, to face and forgive some very difficult realities about yourself, then the truth will not be withheld from you – and it has not.

This “truth” is perhaps a revelation of apocalyptic proportions in the small picture, but I can’t help but feel a sense of liberation because the big picture has such unprecedented potential. I have the best job in the universe with the most incredible people I could ever imagine working with and simply could not have asked for a better introduction into a field I think it’s now safe to call a new career path. This is not a door closed – it is a door opened, and I am beyond thrilled by the endless opportunities at every turn. The only things worth regretting in life are the chances you didn’t take – this isn’t going to be one that falls through the cracks. I fully believe in seizing opportunities when they present themselves – I have found a passion that I never saw coming and I intend to dive into pursuing it headfirst. If you always do what you’ve always done, you will always get what you’ve always gotten. On this Independence Day I am exercising the freedom I have to change my mind. Carpe Diem.

Live fearlessly.

241

It's About Never Giving Up

"Sometimes you gotta lose to win, you gotta never give up, and never give in." -Emmanuel Jal

There are always moments in life that will bring you to your knees. You know, the “come to Jesus”-“rock bottom”-“hell froze over” kinds of moments that end up defining you whether you like it or not. But what isn’t always the case, is having someone who will reach into the snake pit you’ve found yourself in to pull you up. To be brave enough to extend a hand into that kind of circumstance takes a special breed of courage and determination, with a side of fearless stupidity. While I’ve been lucky enough to have a monopoly on people who are willing to do such things, I’m going to focus, mostly, on just one.

An excerpt from a poem I wrote serves as an appropriate preface:

The cuts will heal and fade with time,

But there will always be the scars,

To remind me of what happened

To the life that once was ours.

Looking in the mirror seven years from then,

At the fighter I’ve become,

I wonder how I ever even fought the war

I never should have won.

Once upon seven years ago,

A stranger passed me by,

Once upon seven years ago,

That stranger saved my life.

Indeed he did. That stranger, turned saving grace, taught me one of the best lessons I’ve ever had the privilege of learning: the importance of never giving up. Perhaps, even more meaningful than that was the underlying importance of being willing to reach out to others in that capacity – like he did for me. In other words – to pay it forward. I was on the fast track to nowhere 7 years ago, but in one conversation, everything changed. In one conversation, I learned about the value of empathy, the spark that ignites authentic compassion, and the importance of giving back instead of giving up. I am fortunate to have received that gift when I did... what could have been a negatively life altering defining moment was pushed, molded, framed, and conjured into something positive and sustaining. Because of that, and also in part because I cant actually express to him my deepest gratitude in person, I have committed myself to never giving up on myself or anyone else.

It is true that giving up is the easiest thing in the world to do, but I have found myself surrounded by people who understand what it takes to hold it together - and do so - when everyone else would get it if they fell apart.. now, that’s true strength. Today, on the seventh year anniversary of when this world lost a great man and I lost a hero, I remember with heartfelt gratitude that the journey does not end there. Legacies don’t die with the dead unless you let them… in the same respect, they don’t stay alive unless you perpetuate them. I am so lucky to have found myself at a place in my life where I can look back on the past and be so grateful, even for what I've lost, while at the same time looking forward with pride, purpose, and passion for perpetuating the legacies I am fortunate enough to know. 
 

To Dennis Gryder, who made me promise never to give up - seven years later, I’m still fighting like crazy… Even on my weakest days, I get a little bit stronger cause I know I have to. Thanks for that. To my grandmother, Marlene Schneider, who I cannot believe has been gone from this earth for nearly a year - I miss you like crazy, but I’m still doing everything I can to keep my heart open… I hope that you’re proud of who and what I’ve let in. And to Morgan Harrington, whose legacy is newest to the list of lives that have changed mine, it is a privilege to have the chance to pay it forward in your honor - we would have been great friends... We are doing everything we can to do you justice and to find it at the same time. 

Seven years have gone by entirely too undetected… I have no conceptual understanding of how time has passed so quickly. A wise person once told me you never know what life is going to give to you, but more importantly, you never know what might be taken away - so don't take anything for granted.  If I die young - not to dwell, or suggest, but rather, to be a realist - I want to know I used every single nano-second I was given. The fact of the matter is we are ALL terminal and what we do with the time we're given  determines our legacy. I'll probably never hold the brush that paints a masterpiece, and I'll probably never find a pen that writes a symphony, but if I will love than I will find that I have touched another life - just as others have done for me - and that's something worth leaving behind. So, to the friends and family who I am humbled by and grateful daily to still have by my side – don't you ever give up. I know the value of an unexpected extended hand, and you can bet your heart and soul I’ll dive head first into a snake pit any day for every single one of you. 

Cheers to stupidity: life is way too damn short to be anything but fearless.  241 

Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost

Pathetic that I haven’t sat down to complete an entry in over three months, but nevertheless, I have returned. I have returned because I have reached my max capacity intake of any and all things but more so because this is the only way I know I will successfully process all of the below as reality. Fact: this is how I clear my head, but today, this serves the dual purpose of a major reality check. I’m going to present this in synopsis form simply because, as much as this would serve as an amazing story line, I don’t have the time to write a novel. Fair warning, it’s a long one, but I give you my word: it’s worth it.

One year ago, I took a class called The Creative Process taught by Jane Lillian Vance. It encouraged me to challenge myself to seek a deeper understanding of all things I encounter, endure, and embrace, while teaching me to enable unbridled empathy and compassion towards everyone I meet along that way. I have taken that to heart… perhaps more than I should, but as you continue reading, I invite you to be the judge of that.

Eight months ago, my life turned into a complete crap-storm of one burden, loss, and hurdle after another. In passing, I reached out to this former teacher, who I had still remained in contact with, and got a response that was a lesson of a lifetime: “So you’ve lost a lot. You’re slate has been wiped cleaner than most people could ever imagine… Don’t let the smoke from the old house follow you into the new one.” That became my new golden rule.

Six months ago, I stopped in Charlottesville on my way home from the Virginia Music Educator’s Association Conference just because -- I didn’t need gas, I wasn’t stopping to see anyone, I just pulled off the exit and by the time I got to the bottom of the ramp, I didn’t quite know why I was there. I drove, getting ready to turn around totally dumbfounded, and realized I knew where I was. I was headed toward the Copely Bridge. This is where the memorial plaque for Morgan Harrington, a former VT student who was abducted and murdered in October 2009, was placed. I knew this because Ms. Vance had told me her story – a story that had ended tragically and much too soon. I left a flower on the bridge, almost selfishly thanked God I was able to visit this in her honor instead of it being the other way around, and left… but I couldn’t let it go.

Four months ago I met Morgan’s parents on a day campus was locked down because a gunman had opened fire and had shot and killed a police officer. Fancy meeting them under those circumstances. Morgan, their daughter, had been Ms. Vance’s student. It was with Ms. Vance, who had since, for multiple reasons, become family to the Harrington’s, that I fled from the campus that day after the lockdown was lifted for the safe-haven of a gallery presentation in Roanoke and post presentation glass of wine at the home of Dan and Gil Harrington. I was greeted with open arms, hot food, and unbelievably selfless kindness and concern. Instantly I was saying to myself, “I don’t know how these people get up in the morning, much less, treat me -- a complete stranger ten minutes ago -- with such open compassion.” That was a reality check in and of itself, but what came as much more of an eye opener was this: I knew they had launched a campaign in response to their daughters murder called Help Save The Next Girl, but what I hadn’t quite put together was that the ‘next girl’ that they were fighting to save could easily be me. I was stunned by the common ground I had so effortlessly found with people who were otherwise complete strangers only moments before. They were on a crusade to do everything they could to keep this from happening to another daughter, wife, sister, friend… to you, to me, to anyone. If they, after losing SO much, were going to fight for those spared such tragic loss, I believe it is our responsibility to join them in giving a voice to those that have been forcibly silenced… so speak out, we did.

www.helpsavethenextgirl.com
www.facebook.com/SaveTheNextGirl

Three and a half months ago, at the end of January, Ms. Vance and a few students who had known Morgan gathered with Karen Kiley of WDBJ 7 who had picked up a line I had dropped about Hokie Compassion in response to the shooting in December. We talked about Morgan’s story and how we, as VT students and faculty, see the dire importance in creating positive legacy and to exemplify Virginia Tech, not as a place of tragedy, but as a brilliantly vibrant, safe community full of solutions: Help Save The Next Girl could be a part of that solution… and so it began.

www.facebook.com/VTHelpSaveTheNextGirl

Three months ago, we founded VT Help Save The Next Girl. To say we hit the ground running would be the understatement of the year. I have no real sense of time since this began. The students who had gathered for the news story became my right and left hand as we power-housed through the initial stages of launching an official on-campus organization. In no time, we had meetings, university approved logos, all the info flyers we could imagine, business cards, bracelets, t-shirts, etc and these students, who I had known no longer than a week when we teamed up had transformed effortlessly and unconsciously into family. The story was all over the news, all over Facebook, and had become a movement on campus with unstoppable momentum. I need to take a moment to give a shout-out to my friends, who have absolutely blown me away with their support. I love you all for seeing the importance of this and for helping me carry this message. You ALL give me hope. 

Two months ago, with no problem at all, we obtained the endorsement of a couple of the biggest names at VT: Head Football Coach Frank Beamer, and Head Basketball Coach Seth Greenberg. They both, without blinking an eye, threw their full support behind our efforts, exemplifying the university motto of Ut Prosim: That I May Serve, at its finest. They each produced PSA’s endorsing our efforts and offered to be of any service we could ask for or imagine. Frank Beamer cried the moment he met Gil as she and Jane presented him with a picture of The Hunted, a painting she did in Morgan’s honor. He later said, “What you’re doing is important. This is why my heart belongs to Hokie Nation, you have my full support.” Two weeks later, when we went to meet with Coach Greenberg, we ran into Coach Beamer. He said hello in passing and then stopped, turned with purpose and pride while pulling up his shirtsleeve to reveal that his bracelet was still on his wrist. THAT is why MY heart belongs to Hokie Nation. Thank you, Coach Beamer, I will never forget that moment.

One month ago VT Help Save The Next Girl participated in Take Back The Night as our first sanctioned group event. The turnout was remarkable. We had over 50 people representing VT HSTNG that night. To observe Dan and Gil there and able to see that SO many people came in honor of Morgan was one of the proudest moments of my life. We remember… and so do so many others. I was given the opportunity to address the crowd gathered that night and found myself so thankful to see my friends there in the crowd. One of the key points I made that night was how important it is to refrain from wearing the false mask of invincibility – it could have been me, it could have been them. But it wasn’t… and so they were there, joining me and VT Help Save The Next Girl in taking back the night.

 VT Help Save The Next Girl at Take Back The Night

www.takebackthenight.org

Three weeks ago we filmed a national spot for the Help Save The Next Girl Foundation. The PSA was done beautifully and has the potential to mean huge things for this cause as a whole. There are so many brilliantly talented people coming together to bring forth this message that I can’t help but think that this is going to be a bigger movement than any of us could have hoped for or imagined.

Two weeks ago one of my two vital jobs for the summer fell through entirely… worst timing ever. The financial strain of this past semester with car trouble, unexpected bills, etc has been astronomical, so this was absolutely the last thing I needed. But, this seems to be what always happens… just as soon as I think I’m on the right track, I realize I’m on the wrong train.  I quickly came to terms with the fact that this means another 4-job summer on top of grad classes and started looking for another job or two to replace what had fallen through. Story of my life.

 My new boss is a rockstar. The end. 
www.facebook.com/pages/SAKintermedia

One week ago, that all changed. I was offered a job with a rock star of a publicist, Stephanie Koehler of SAKintermedia who is the publicist for the Help Save The Next Girl foundation and for my former teacher and artist, Jane Lillian Vance. I suppose the work I’d been doing with VT HSTNG had been half decent, because as much as I couldn’t believe it was real life, she was totally serious. Not only do I have a better job than I could have ever hoped for, its possible that this job, singularly, could be the stepping stone I have so desperately longed for to get out of this multi-job nightmarish schedule. I genuinely feel like it’s too good to be true, but it IS real life, and I am so eternally humbled and grateful for this opportunity.

Five days ago, at the April 16^th candlelight vigil I had the real opportunity to reflect on just how far everything had come, how many doors have opened, and how inconceivably lucky I am to be a part of so many incredible things. I was reminded of how valuable each fragile life is and was instantly overwhelmed with the gratitude I felt to be right where I was at that very moment.

Two days ago, I had a similar feeling of overwhelming gratitude at my boyfriend’s sister’s wedding, standing in total awe of the company I was surrounded by. Emerson is the most caring, compassionate, authentic, selfless, loving, anti-stereotype guy that I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing. He also just so happens to be the son of my teacher, Jane Vance. Oops. Oh, the ties that bind us all. ;) That day was a fairytale full of incredible people I now absolutely consider to be a vital part of my ever-expanding family. I learned so much about life in that one day. I learned that blood is not always thicker than water, but that, when push comes to shove, you find what you’re made of and you build yourself some character. I learned, reinforced rather, that it takes much more than death to tear love apart and that just because you’ve been robbed of one joy you cant allow sorrow and despair to infiltrate the possibility of ever having it again. I learned that it is important to give what you can, even when it’s not much, because the little things DO matter. I learned that opportunity absolutely comes when you least expect it and often in a form you never could have imagined being possible. In direct conjunction with all those things, I learned about the importance of fearlessness. 

Family friend, Jenna Swann talked in her toast about the fearlessness she’s always seen in Iris. I am so inspired by her. I want to be the kind of daughter, sister, friend, and now, wife that Iris has been, is, and always will be, by living and loving fearlessly. I want to see the world with the fearlessness of my teacher, now, lifelong friend, Jane. I want to love with the fearlessness Emerson exemplifies daily. I want to teach with the fearlessness of my band director who was honestly been a huge inspiration to me. I want to embrace and uplift others compassionately with the fearlessness I see sewn between not just some, but ALL of my friends. I want to persevere with the fearlessness, strength, and resolve of Dan and Gil Harrington. I want to work with the fearlessness of Stephanie Koehler who takes on the world like its nothing. I want to inspire fearlessly like my teacher, David Widder, who absolutely refuses to give up on me even and especially when I give up on myself. I want to learn fearlessly from my parents who really did do the best they could for as long as they could.

I want to speak out fearlessly, I want to make a difference fearlessly, I want to cultivate change and compassion fearlessly… and I think its possible that I’ve found myself exactly where I need to be to do that. This has not been an easy road; in fact it’s been quite the opposite. I’ve hurt, I’ve struggled and I’ve fought like hell to make to the side that had the mere potential for green grass, but I’m here now and in the end, that’s all that matters. I have rocked the boat on some fronts, and I know it… but sometimes you just have to do the right thing simply because it’s the right thing, even if it means standing alone; all the while loving those who leave you behind or those you have to leave behind anyway. A great quotation from The Shack comes to mind: “I know that most of our hurt comes through relationships but so does our healing, and that grace often times doesn’t make sense to those who remain on the outside looking in.”

I am traveling at warp speed, but I can so clearly see everything coming together as if it were slow motion… Do you see it? Everything is so perfectly intertwined, not tangled, but interlocking with purpose and passion. Never have I ever been as happy as I am at this very moment… There are so many incredible opportunities in sight that I can’t quite process them all as possibilities, but they are there, and I am beyond thrilled to see where it is that this journey is trying to take me. I’m not sure when I got to be so lucky, but I am so grateful.

For those of you loyal readers, I believe I’ve found my fine balance; this is really starting to feel like home. Not all those who wander are lost. 

Love fearlessly.

        -241-

Its Family Business

I am sitting in the airport in Austin, TX, and as sad as I am to have just completed another round of tearful goodbyes, I have never in my life felt more surrounded by family. Not just by the people I consider my ‘Texas Family’ but my all of my adopted/unbiological family I’ve gained over the past several years. I meant it when I said I can really see only where my family begins because when I look around, in any direction, I can see no end to the people in my life who have become family, and I have a good feeling its going to be like that as long as I live. Some family we are given; the rest we choose… and sometimes, when we’re extraordinarily lucky, they choose us. I never knew it was possible to love this many people… and I think in the back of my mind, even more so, I never knew, or believed rather, that it was possible for this many people to love me back. I am indisputably the luckiest girl in the world. 

Sisters

Life is so good… and to finally be in a place where I can appreciate it fully is so unbelievably freeing. This is the first time in years that I haven’t been working multiple jobs, playing cat and mouse with hospitals and doctors, or doing things with my time to keep everyone else happy… but me. So I took full advantage of that. As much traveling as I’ve done over this break, in between all of the destinations I’ve managed to have enough travel time to really reflect and put things in perspective. I think having that time is among the things I am most grateful for from this past month. Lets re-cap, shall we?

Chicago was incredible… I got to tour Northwestern, I loved seeing the city; I learned SO much at the Midwest Clinic and met so many talented and inspiring people there… I learned a lot about the path that I’m headed down, and about the direction I want to go… and to top it off, I got to go there with some of my closest music family. 

Some of my Music Family...

 I finally got to go home to spend some much needed time with my family: both biological, and otherwise… I needed that more than I realized. They keep my head on straight. All of them. And in more ways than one, good and bad, blood or not, as complicated or uncomplicated as it may seem, they keep me balanced. I love them for that...all of them.

Biological...

and otherwise.

Then there was New Orleans… Ah, New Orleans. You were so good to me… (see previous blog post)  I lent you my eyes, and you changed what I could see, but you affirmed that my soul I must keep totally free. Thank you for teaching me how to rebuild from ruin, and ultimately, how to embrace restoration. I am so grateful that I got to share that experience with my VT Family… I love you guys.

VT Family

 …36 hours after New Orleans, I went to Texas with two of my closest friends, and we were greeted immediately by more unbiological family that I’ve missed greatly. It was so, so wonderful to see them. Funny the way it is, when people cross your path briefly in the scheme of life, but you know immediately that they are meant to be a permanent facet of your life. That’s the beauty of extended family; there is no end. The coolest part about the Texas trip is that there were multiple people that are native to other said ‘families’ of mine that are now interwoven into the same sphere. It’s a small world after all, now isn’t it? 

These are the moments I'll travel halfway across the country for:

Love this kiddo so much..

Bath Co. Band Family Reunion

There is no better friend than a sister...

 The University of Texas is incredible… I love Austin. I could totally see myself there, and I fully intend to go back. I’m not a fan of force-feeding the straight and narrow prescribed path, so I’m not going to. Instead I’m going deeply appreciate this experience, know that if I end up here in a few years after doing some teaching, I will be happy, but above any and all things, knowing and trusting that I will end up where I belong. I have thus far… So what specifically is bigger in Texas? The brick walls that hit you in the face when you realize just how lucky you are… that’s what.

 I’m now on the plane; reluctantly well on my way back to the East Coast and still sporadically fighting back some tears… Not of sadness and heartbreak, but of overwhelming appreciation for the people in my life who make it so easy for me to see just how lucky I am. I find it oddly appropriate that I am parallel with the clouds as I finish these thoughts; I’m in a freefall. I’m in a place in my life where I can see beyond the clouds while appreciating being on the ground, all the while knowing the direction I’m headed could change with the wind… I can appreciate the present and look forward to the future without being held back by the past. 

The journeys between the destinations are sustaining me and are opening so many doors that I am no longer afraid of not knowing exactly where I’m headed. I am well on my way to where I am meant to be, and that is enough for me. I have family here, I have family there, I am quickly realizing that I have family everywhere I go, and I’m starting to see that these people, intertwined or not, will be a part of my life forever. It’s family business. I like to think I have good taste in people; they all prove it. I am so very grateful for every single one of you who I am humbled to love as family, who love me as such back.

"Children are likely to live up to what you believe of them... give them a reason to believe in themselves." -Lady Bird Johnson

2.4.1

Ruined, Rebuilt, Restored.

 I’ve done a lot of traveling this Christmas break… hell, I’ve done a lot of traveling in general… But I think New Orleans takes the cake… for sure the most incredible place I’ve been in the United States. Going to New Orleans at this point of my life was like reading an autobiography… about myself. I thought about a lot of things approaching this city, while I was in it, and since leaving. Having the time to process it and to think about the experience in and of itself, it is almost disturbing how many parallels I’ve discovered. 

I have touched a lot on the part of my life that destroyed me… but I don’t care to relive any of it. I no longer see the point. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been a fool and I’ve been blind, I could never leave the past behind. But it was comparable to a shot in the dark… aimed right at my throat. I was in ruins, and I stayed that way for a long time, not because I wanted to, but because I wanted, even less, to fight the demons on my back. That was my Katrina. I waded through stagnant water of things not worth saving, and as the water receded, I took several steps back to re-evaluate what I should let go of and what was worth hanging onto, but more importantly how and where to start rebuilding. 

The rebuilding period was the hardest and the longest part of that transformation. There’s something about rebuilding that makes you realize you will never again have what you had before, and that’s sometimes a difficult pill to swallow. When you take a step back from what knocks you on your ass, you learn how to defend yourself. I was quite the exoskeleton of defenses for a few years, as I can tell New Orleans was while justifying their determination to rebuild… I don’t regret being that way, because I think sometimes you really do have to protect yourself above any and all things. I was still rebuilding, but from the inside out… There’s a lot of forgiveness that has to take place when you rebuild something that once was your fortress, even if only for yourself. Like the people of New Orleans, I had to forgive the storm: both literally and figuratively.

I’m not sure you’re ever finished with the re-building phase of anything, but the beauty of the restoration part of this whole thing is the realization that, even though you will never be able to rebuild what you had before, you have the opportunity to build beyond it and make it better. That is beautiful to me… I saw the beauty in the breakdown of New Orleans and of myself in the form of restoration, front and center, more than anything else… and I think perhaps, maybe, that’s why I am wholeheartedly in love with that city. It put everything I knew about myself and many other situations in my life and the lives of those I’m surrounded by into storybook format. Pictures, illustrations, and sound effects… no stone unturned. What a beautiful, beautiful place! I mean that in every definition and capacity possible.

Don’t get me wrong, Bourbon St was the greatest, the music was incredible, and the food was to die for, but it was what was underneath the face of New Orleans that was inconceivably beautiful. It was shocking to me how, so many, many years later, the destruction from Katrina was still very prevalent to the face of New Orleans, but how, at the same time, it made it that much more beautiful. To me, that was a parallel as to how to wear scars as assets, beauty marks, storybooks; not deformities, ailments, or disabilities. It all goes back to the sentiment that “what breaks you down is not the load you carry, its all in how you carry it.” 

So to New Orleans, thank you for being so great to me and my family... (see above) I salute you and thank you for an experience of a lifetime… You taught me a lot about how to restore gracefully. You and I will be close friends, and I look forward to a lifelong relationship. I’d say for the first destination on my eternal journey to an awakened soul, I hit the jackpot. I find it inconceivably rewarding to be able to stand on the other side of this rubble and see where I am now and what I’ve rebuilt, and what I’m working on restoring. When push comes to shove, you find out what you’re truly made of… I know I did.

2.4.1