Alexis By Any Other Name

I am on the Facebook. It is one of these online communities which seeks to connect people to other people through already established real-world networks (i.e. colleges, jobs, clubs etc). Anyone on one of these networks can search for people through a variety of categories (names, schools, jobs - you get the idea). So recently I received a message with a guy who probably searched for people with names that started with "Don." He found my last name and sent me a friend request which stated how much he liked my last name. As I have gotten older, I have become decreasingly attached to this name. The following is the message I sent to him.

"I know you saw my name and thought something to the effect of "Wow! That's cool!" However, every name has a story and mine is no exception. "Donkin" is an anglicized version of the Scottish "Duncan." If you know anything about British imperialism and Scottish disdain for the English crown, you know this is an eye-sore for Scots. For even more fun, 'Donkin' is not really my family name. My grandfather died when my father was a baby, and my grandmother remarried. When she married a man with the name 'Donkin' this man adopted my father. My father's name then changed from 'Stewart' to 'Donkin.' The only reason I have kept my last name as it is, is because I like the way my full name sounds and Donkin is a rare last name in the US. It also reminds me how the choices in our lives affect the outcomes, and our heritage is as much choice as accident."

Now, I know the above conveys my dislike, and strange reasoning for keeping my last name, but it does not explain anything about my other names (for which I do have a great attachment). "Alexis," a derivative of "Alexander" means "defender of human-kind" (the baby name book has a more sexist version using the word 'man,' so I changed the wording to express the true sentiment of the name). "Tara" (my middle name) has several meanings as there are a number of ethnicities which have this name. My personal favorite connotation is it's the name of the Tibetan goddess of beginnings. My least favorite is the Irish, which means 'bitter.' However my first name is the name with which I most strongly identify. It is the reason for the name of my blog - 'protector's archetype.'

Some people don't care about their names. Their names mean nothing to them. They are merely a delineation - separating them from the other people surrounding them in the world. For me, my name is more than a category. It gives meaning. I own my name. Whenever a person is called a name, it shapes how they act and who they become. This is why our words are so important, why categories can be so damaging or empowering. My name, combined with my deep faith socialization has given be a profound sense of purpose - of destiny in this world. I may not receive standing ovations from large groups when I step out on stage (at this moment *grin*) from all the work I have done on the global stage, but every 'insignificant' act every day has an affect on the lives of millions of people, though I do not see these results. It is no coincidence, my name, my choices, my enrollment in the MAGIS program. All these things are interrelated.

Yes, Shakespeare is right that a rose will smell as sweet with another name. But a person's choices and actions, as Romeo and Juliet can attest, are shaped by names and categories. If I was named Jennifer or Caitlin, I would not be the same person. If I had my family name Stewart instead of Donkin, I would not be who I am. Names are important, and so are the words we use to describe situations in the world.

A new Magus

I've been hiding out relatively recently, and I've been anxiously anticipating a new beginning. Perhaps the hiding was due to a need to store energy up for my latest and most demanding new endeavor - the MAGIS program at UCSB.

Today was a TA orientation and a little departmental meeting - both of which shed more light than I expected. Of course, having no expectations helps the matter. Yet, still people surprise you. You're never quite sure where people will take you. Today was no exception.

The interests of my colleagues in the program seem bent on two general regions of the world (as far as I can tell) - the Middle East and Latin America.

As time continues I am less and less concerned about language requirements (as we're only required to translate 2 paragraphs in the language of our choice with the aid of a dictionary in order to demonstrate proficiency) and more concerned about the course load when combined with a TAship and my part time position. However, the graduate assistant completed her masters as a single mom with several teenagers while working a full time job. So, I shouldn't be too worried. I will be able to get through it. Yet the question remains, at what level, and to what cost?

The goal of the program, as the PR man Mark J. said, is to create some kind of global leadership in the way of non-profits in this changing world. I'm excited to be a part of such a high caliber group of people, while simultaneously nervous at the expectations (not only of the professors, but more problematically of myself). What will this leadership look like? How exactly are they seeing us? What dreams and aspirations do they have for us? My mind runs in multiple directions trying to close around the various possibilities.

My guess is the goal of foundation, with the combined effort of providing connections for our time after our 'short' program. I must admit, I feel I will miss my colleagues at the end of our time as they seem so interesting and interested. This breed of person is rare and difficult to discover in the world outside our academic bubble. I am sure the bonds formed in this program will hold fast, and prove invaluable in our work and lives after the program. I am sure it is divined as only such a creature can be.

A Minister

Here's how the conversation normally goes:

"So, are you going into the ministry?"
"Uh..."
"I think you would make a good minister."
"Well, I don't believe that the role of 'ministers' will look anything like it does now in 20 years. I just don't think the Church is going to look the same way."

"Hmmm. Well, I still think you would make a good minister."

At this point I just roll my eyes.

I am repeatedly confronted with the question,"Do you want to be a minister?" As I get older it comes at me with greater frequency. This doesn't entirely surprise me. There are a number of ministers in my family. Both of my parents (much to the distress of the Southern Baptist Conference) are ministers. In fact, my mother was ordained while she was in her third trimester of pregnancy. You decide the theological ramifications of that one.

My mother's brother is also a minister. My father's cousin is a minister. A couple generations back on my father's side there was a missionary who actually died in the mission field (from some sort of tropical disease).

Of course, my family also has its share of entrepreneurs and stock brokers, but no one's asking me if I'll be starting a business or begin brokering any time soon.

So what makes a minister? Or perhaps I should say, what makes a good minister? Or even more important, what qualities in a person prompt others to ask the question "do you want to be a minister?"?

Of course there is the encyclopedic definition. But that doesn't really answer the last question. It doesn't really tell me why people think this would be a good idea. I can of course, espouse a list of reasons why people might think it would be a good idea for me to become a minister.

Let me first list the qualities I think (as only a PK can) are necessary in order to be a good minister:

1- The person must feel the need to lead - but more importantly, they must be a person others are willing to follow. By this I mean, there must be some sort of visionary quality, some sort of charisma present. There are different kinds of charisma, but ultimately there must be something in the person that draws others to them. If there is not, how are they to influence their flock?
2- They must be compassionate. They must be able to feel how other people feel, and to express concern and caring for them. This is key in any leader, as they must understand the seat of conflicts, and thereby be able to help generate solutions.
3 -They must have a fire for their fellow humans and a need to see them safe and fulfilled having all their basic needs met. This is of course the way it must be, if the person is to be a Christian leader. There must be a desire for social justice, otherwise, the person is not following the message of Jesus.
4- They must be able to admit their mistakes.
5- They must be able to delegate tasks, so as to both a)not become overburdened and b)give tasks to those who are the best suited for a task's completion.
6-They must be willing to re-evaluate.
7- They must be passionate.
8- They must be willing to struggle with their faith, and lay that struggle (at least in part) out to be seen by the congregation.
9- They must be imperfect, and they must know it is so and admit it as such.

BUT the MOST IMPORTANT quality is that they are CALLED to ministry.

Some of the characteristics which I numbered overlap. That's okay. I know they do. But there are different elements emphasized in each, which is why I separated them the way I did. Perhaps there are other characteristics which are also important in a minister but these are the ones which speak to my heart and my experience.

I said that is what it would take to make a good minister, not a great minister. To be great, I am sure there are nuances in each of these aspects which must be achieved, and of those nuances, I think books must be written and yet none can cover. Ultimately, there is something in a person that cannot be pin-pointed that makes them right for the role they will play. It is divine. They are meant for that part - the part was written FOR THEM at that point in their lives.

This of course, speaks of calling. To be called is the biggest and most important thing about a position. And while your specific calling changes as your life situation changes, there are certainly general roles that you are meant to fill in no matter what location you find yourself. Ministry is one of those which requires such a thing. Often times, I feel some people enter the ministry because they are so lost themselves, or they enter by process of default, as opposed to a genuine calling to the position.

That said, ministry is not confined to the occupation of 'pastor' or 'priest' or 'rabbi' etc. Just because you feel called to ministry doesn't mean you need to pastor a church. Ministry is what you make of it. Any occupation can become a ministry, and indeed is, when you view your work through that set of lenses. I think, this is something everyone should use to color their perspective on their job.

Life is sacred. Living is a worshipful act. Live life to the fullest and you are infact bringing glory to God. It is a beautiful thing.

So let's revist that wretched conversation and let me give a better answer to the dreaded question posed and re-posed by so many acquaintances.

Yes I will be going into the ministry.

Am I going to pastor a church? Not if I can help it.

Then how am I ministering? I will be living for God and I hope to make every act a kind of worship bringing glory to God's creation and helping to bring about his will in this world.

Every person I advise, comfort, or just spend time with sitting and being quiet is a kind of ministry and a kind of worship all at once. So too is the other person ministering to me. Am I ordained? You'll have to figure that one out. Will I go through the rigorous exercises required of seminary? Probably never.

I say all these things knowing that I do not know what the future holds and that I tread each step as it is revealed to me. This is all I can do. I can plan, but often my plan is foiled by a greater plan - God's.

All I can say to any definite end is that ministry runs in the family, and no doubt I minister on a daily basis.

More FX Pedals

As you may have seen in an earlier post, I have begun to custom paint guitar pedals. I have thus far painted two for my father, gotten one order (which is posted here) and will be painting a limited edition run for Good Karma. The order posted here is from a guitarist in Alaska named Jim Beck. These are the boxes I painted for him. The one on the left is a BYOC vibratto. The righthand box is a distortion. If you like what you see and are interested in having me paint one of your boxes, please send me an email at: alexis.tara@gmail.com

The one in light blue accented with tans and black was an effort to capture the feeling of turquoise stones. The markings next to each of the drilled holes represent different switches (bypass, ramp, rate, depth, rise...). The owner loves turquoise, so I made a conserted effort to give the feeling of turquoise, with all of the 'imperfections' and character of a found stone. I associate turquoise with the desert, which is why I accented the stone shapes with a tan/beige outline. I thought the symbols needed to be a dark color - and what better than black which is often found on pieces of turquoise in various designs. It helped contribute to the desert theme to have symbols label the switches and knobs because it references the pictographs of ancient peoples often found in caves and on rock outcroppings.

The second pedal was made in a theme which I suggested and was agreed upon by the owner. Being that he is from Alaska where winter means something very different than it does here in Southern California, I thought it would be great to high light the spectacle of near 24 hour darkness. The box was originally finished with a gray hammer-on. Rather than stripping it, I used it as a background and contribute some alternate textures. Before painting, I used rubbing alcohol to remove select sections of the finish with varying degrees. Then I thought about the braiding rivers (which during winter would be frozen) and the lines that might create in the Alaskan landscape. I used that, combined with the knowledge I have of tundra colors darkened by night to create the over-all box. Jim had mentioned to me that he wanted some symbols or something to mark the switches. In order for the symbols to be seen, they needed to be painted in a light color. I chose yellow because of it's natural contrast with blues and purples (its compliment). Because the yellow is so bright, I didn't want it to completely overshadow (no pun intended) the rest of the box which is why the labels are painted over the knob holes. This is so they will be partially obscured, but visible enough so the player can see "V" for volume, "F" for fuzz, "B" for bias, and "C" for contour.
I didn't use symbols for these knob labels because I wasn't sure of a symbol that would be consistently clear (as I think the unobtrusive symbols on the turquoise pedal are).

There are still slots open for the discounted price of $30 per pedal. Once the slots are filled, the price will remain at $35. Every pedal design is unique and I discuss with you what color palette, shapes, symbols/labels (if any) etc. you would like. If you are interested please send me an email at: alexis.tara@gmail.com.

The Gospel According to $Bling$ & Other Life Lessons

I was recently contacted via email to try a life coaching program put on by Jack Canfield based on his relatively new book, The Success Principles. Well, the email (which was incredibly manipulative in it's wording, as all good sales pitches are) made it seem like it was a cheap offer. Perhaps it was even free! So I went to the link, and filled out the little form and clicked submit. A few days later I got a call from a guy who works for Canfield as part of a pre-screening process. He talked with me for 10 minutes, and then wondered if I could go through an hour and a half interview where he would talk a little about the program. The guy sounded like he had been through this a hundred times, and he didn't feel genuine to me at all. I was more selling myself because I thought it was going to be free or very very inexpensive (keeping in mind that I am about to undertake two more years of school for my masters). Well, you reap what you sow.

He thought I would be an excellent candidate for their life coaching program. Then he told me the price, or 'economic investment.' I understand the nature of framing things a certain way - I've taken classes about this sort of thing. I know how it works. I've seen it in countless businesses when they change the title of different positions from 'stocker' to 'team member.' But the words mean the same thing. They refer to the same thing. In the end, you still needed to fork over $3500 in order to be successful.

That is a bunch of bullshit. There are a few reasons why. Yes, when you pay a certain amount of money you feel obliged to commit. The 'investment' inherently escalates your level of commitment to the program or product. You buy a nice car, you want to polish it's wheels every so often and make sure you take it in for regular maintenance, put in the proper fuel etc. The problem is that money is a difficult thing to come by. That amount takes out a significant percentage of the population. What about the homeless guy who wants to change his life? What about the foster kid who has been shuttled from home to home? Can they afford these things? Not unless they're doing something illegal and are sending a money order.

OKay, so automatically it assumes certain things about the people who are applying for this kind of service. Perhaps that is accurate, but it doesn't make it less shitty.

Secondly, the salesman who talked to me for much longer than I wanted provided me with the very logic that attacks his argument. He said, "Is a fancy dayplanner going to make you organize yourself?" Well, of course not. The only thing that can occur to make you change how you organize yourself is an INTERNAL change. You have to decide to change how you are living your life. You have to develop your own system. Okay, so the fancy schmancy life coaches might make that a little faster, but it will at the same time rob you of some good life lessons, like mistakes.

There is a reason we make mistakes. There is a reason we fail. It is to learn. When we learn from our mistakes, when someone asks us why we do things a certain way we can explain to them our choices. We have a logic, an easy proof - I tried it a few different ways, and this is the one that works the best. Granted, being willing to listen to new improvements on the successful action which make the action more efficient is a good thing, but at least you can provide some kind of history to back your action.

One of the things, which I have learned about myself, is that when someone doubts my ability to do something (which I already think I can do) it further strengthens my determination to do it properly and exemplary.

So, thanks to the stupid salesman for the lifecoaching thing, because he made me think of about 30 ways I could improve what I am doing on a regular basis in areas of health, income, and my productivity. The upsetting non-encounter also strengthened my resolve to take my 'goal binder' and turn it into a 'vision board' (which in my head, I actually call it a 'victory board' because I look at these things that I want, pictures and words, and feel like they are already happening or have happened - think the old Hebrew verb usage when referring to God). I also created a goal tracking chart which records all of my daily actions that are furthering (or hindering depending on the actions) my goals.

I have to say, I already feel better. It's amazing what not spending $3500 will do for you!

I should say, for those people who are too weak to do these things on their own, and need to spend the money, by all means, spend it. Canfield does give a guarantee that you will be changed. But for those of us who have less funding to play with at this time, and feel the overwhelming DIY urge that makes us Americans, I support you in your efforts and am here to say, you CAN do it, because I am doing it as you read this.

So peace, love, and frugality where it is deserved, or generosity respectively.

Talk AND Walk: A Soliton Critique

Ever been tired of people talking? I don't know how many meetings of various groups where we just sit around and talk. People talk and talk and talk. It's good to talk some. You do need to think a little before doing anything. The problem is when you don't act on that thinking. I was recently at an 'Emerging Church' conference put on by the Soliton network, and I was reminded at how important it is to DO.

This is not to say that the people at this conference were not doing, but rather we talked a lot more about thinking than about doing. There were not very many clear avenues to 'do' things. Even though the conference was about hospitality, I found hospitality lacking in several interesting ways. Perhaps these are cultural expectations but I couldn't help but be affected by them.

So what were they? Let me give you several examples. The first day of the conference seemed planned as though everyone would already know everyone else there. There was no easy way to introduce yourself to other people during the day. Unfortunately I was unable to attend the evening session that Thursday night so I didn't get to connect with people there. In addition to no formalized environment for introductions, during the lunch hour people primarily sat with the group of people they came with. AND once I made a comment about this, out loud so that other groups could hear it, only men went between groups. It was a male conference. Perhaps this is an outcropping of various Christian views on women. In fact, it took me some time during the conference to break through the incredible male barrier. Several conversations in which I participated, I was one of if not the ONLY woman to speak during the conversation.

This was ironic because the conference was about hospitality, and it was not particularlly hospitable to half of the population. Nevertheless, I met some wonderful people and made some interesting discoveries about myself, Christianity, and what I need to do as a follower of Jesus.

People often talk about talking and walking, and they walk an entirely different way. No movement is without it's hypocrits. No group is without it's doublesided elements. Or so I think at this point. I could be wrong. I want to be wrong. I just don't believe I am.

What I am interested in is people DOING what they SAY they do. BELIEVE what they SAY they believe. BE who they CLAIM to be. The attempt is valuable enough. It doesn't take a whole lot to begin, it only takes a few little steps. People often want to do something to change the way of the world but become overwhelmed by all the things they find wrong.

DO NOT BECOME OVERWHELMED!!!

One drop of water causes ripples across the lake.

Don't you see? If you do ANYTHING it has an effect on EVERYTHING. Your smile to someone, your gentle conversation, your compassion in any way it manifests has a huge impact on the way the world becomes. Be a follower of Jesus now. Do the things he calls us to now. Love. Live. Worship in every moment, in everything you do, because everything is sacred. Everything is full of God. Everything is part of the plan.

So stop talking - START DOING!!! Recycle. Change your lightbulbs to fluorescent bulbs. Smile at people you pass on the street. Walk more. Enjoy the beauty of the world. Seek how you can serve others in every situation and you will contribute so much to the world. You don't have to do huge things to make a difference, you only need to do small things to begin to make a change in the way things are. It takes so little to start. You just need to start.

Once you have begun, you will find it will be difficult to stop. Find a group of people who can help you keep walking...keep doing...and you support them in their efforts as well. Meet in holy time. Pray and meditate. Support each other in your endeavors. Take hikes together. Create together. These nourishing times will help you do begin to do larger things. And you will do the things God has called you to do in this world.

You are a child of God - you are holy. You have the power to do wonderful things, even with the 'smallest' actions. So get up! Start walking. Maybe someone else will follow you.

Custom Painted Guitar Pedals

My dad has played guitars for over 40 years. He has only recently rediscovered the joys of electric. With that he has also rediscoverd the fun of effects pedals.

Unfortunately I don't know that much about effects pedals. For a more indepth explanation of the kinds I painted here, see the entry in my dad's blog "Something Completely Different."

I studied visual art for two years at Bard College under a number of working artists who have exhibitions in musuems around the world, including the Guggenheim and the Tate. I also studied art history under a pulitzer prize winning author and a groundbreaking Asian art historian. I continue to paint, draw, make paper, design books, and cards as well as paint commissioned works for friends.

This is a picture of the first guitar pedal I custom painted. My dad purchased a make your own pedal kit and wanted it decorated. A friend of mine is putting the guts together.

I chose the colors for this first pedal because I thought they would bring together the colors my dad already has on his effects board (see his blog entry linked above).

The design is drawing on impressionism. I thought of later Kandinsky works while I was in the midst of making it. Like many impressionists, and certainly Kandinsky, I was thinking of the way music makes a person feel. The design then, was meant to recreate some of the feelings and ideas that come to mind with the different textures of sounds made by various effects pedals.

The second pedal I painted was a pedal my dad got through a trade online. It was orange originally, and instead of putting a coat of primer on it, I used the orange as a background and worked with the model paints I already had. This was difficult because I didn't have very many warm colors to work with.
This pedal was designed with similar concept in mind as the first. Except rather than thinking of a variety of textures as I did with the first one, I thought more of lava and fire. I also thought a little of the way leaves look in autumn for some of the dappled patterning. The shapes recall lava flows and rock formations. The color concepts were, as I said above, partially due to the palette in addition to the original orange background color.

If you or a friend are interested in having your effects pedals custom painted, either comment on this post or shoot an email to: alexis.tara@gmail.com

Please, serious inquiries only!

Sin: A Higher Cost

I've been thinking a lot about sin. What is sin? What is the damage it causes? Are the 10 commandments really a viable set of laws for our time? How should we interpret sin in our times? What are the things that God would really consider sinful?

Yes, these are a lot of questions. Where did this line of thinking come from? It came from being hurt recently by someone close to me, from someone whom I would never have expected this kind of damaging act. I am not considering murder or rape out of the category of sin - there is no doubt the wakes those acts leave in their paths are horrible and I would never question the pain they could cause. I am much more concerned with more subtle and slow-acting sins such as lying, cheating, and perhaps even stealing.

You may wonder, why be so concerned with lying, cheating and stealing? Sure they're bad, but everyone tells a little white lie every now and then. There's no harm in that! I'm going to do something I abhor, I am going to come out in a fairly absolute way on this. If you think a little white lie does no harm, you are wrong. Denying truth is a slow thing. If you allow one thing to pass, soon others will.

I am not arguing that if your mother comes home with a terrible hair cut you should bash it in a harsh manner. Rather, say something like "I'm glad that you like it. It's always good to try something new." This is not a lie. It also does not make your mother feel badly about her new cut. Just because you don't like it, doesn't mean she doesn't, and your blatant dislike could turn her feelings off of the style which would be a disaster.

No, I'm not talking about those kinds of things. It's little lies that do the most damage. They make it possible for you to tell large ones. Pretty soon you begin to live in your own fantasy world, concocted in your own mind through a web of lies which have no basis in reality. The worst thing is not just that you are damaging yourself, but you are also damaging your relationships when you lie to others. When you tell a lie, you are causing a breach in trust, whether the person you tell knows it is a lie or not. You felt you needed to keep something from them, out of fear or some other negative feeling.

Get over it. Bite the bullet and tell them the truth. You maintain your relationship, or at least you are respected for coming clean. I am not saying you need to tell every person everything - that would be social suicide and could potentially ruin many a relationship (romantic, familial, or friend). Still, lying, the pain it causes and the mess it brings both communally and individually is heart-wrenching. It's a sin.

What about cheating? Really, cheating is a different kind of lying. It is trying to short change the system - finding some kind of short-cut out of ill-gotten means. Exploitation is a kind of cheating. What else is looking at someone's paper but exploitation of the other person's work? It causes dependency in you, and potentially ruins your reputation as well as makes them feel underappreciated.

This is not to say if you find a better way of doing something which is more efficient and just as positive you shouldn't do it. If I could remove half of all bureaucracy, I would. That would increase flow in countless organizations, and by no means is cheating, rather people would benefit all across the board. Cheating can be as small as looking at someone else's answers, or as big as sweat shop labor to cut labor costs in a transnational corporation. The damage it causes to a community and to individuals is catastrophic. That is a sin.

Stealing. I think fewer people would contest that stealing is a sin. Even lying and cheating are both more socially acceptable than stealing. Perhaps it is our American sensibility when it comes to issues of private property that makes stealing such an easy element to categorize as sin. However, now more than ever, it becomes easier to 'steal' information. Intellect has become a prized comodity. For some reason, perhaps it is because I am of a bridge generation (just on the border of X and Y), I do not find stealing of things on the internet to be as bad as stealing a concrete material. I DO, however, find plagarism to be appalling (probably because there is the potential of me to fall victim to this as I am a member of academia).

Some might say that Robinhood actions are ethically acceptable. I would say that in the event of all other possibilities being exhausted, yes this is acceptable. How come? What makes this different? It is intention, and one might argue, stealing back already stolen property. WHAT?! Stealing back STOLEN PROPERTY?!?!?!?

Extreme wealth is a kind of sin. Greed is a kind of sin. What do you really need? It's not talked about as much as it could be in this highfalutin town of Santa Barbara. But really, making huge amounts of money at the expense of the poor is a kind of cheating. It's a kind of sin. That's not in the 10 commandments, but it could be just as damaging as lying, if not more so. This is why, as a culture, as the Church, we need to have a discussion of what is really damaging to the community. What is important? What do we value? What would break Jesus' heart? Those are the things we need to consider. When we consider those questions, we can begin to weigh the worst of actions and decide how we need to change.

God help us as we prayerfully struggle with these things.

Put down your weapon. Step away...

So much has been happening that has made me reconsider just what I am doing in this world. There is so much violence. Violence is all pervasive in our culture, in our society, and in our world. When did it become okay to show countless murders in movies and rate them PG-13 while a single sex scene with a bit of nudity renders a movie R?! What about videogames? Some people might think that first person shooters are entirely fine for kids to be playing. That might be okay if you're game involves shooting bottles, but by creating human targets it's a short step to shooting real people psychologically.

I began to think about it more in depth as the Israeli-Lebanese conflict escalated. I thought about the effects violence has as I was listening to gangster rap. Listening to the depricating comments and abusive language people so often use both at themselves and others makes me wonder how we got to this place. Why is violence so socially acceptable? Why have people become so desensitized that they think it's okay to throw out Just War theory? Why is it okay to punch your friend as you see a car go by with a different state's plate?

Some people might say I am being too sensitive. They might say I am being ridiculous to point at these things and draw connections between them. The fact remains that everything we do, say, think, affects how we think about the world and how we interact with our environment. When we condone violence in our everyday lives, it makes it easier for us to commit atrocities on foreign soil, and the same could be said in reverse. Yet, we no longer care about the evils committed by our soldiers like Abu Ghraib. Once was enough.

I urge you to rethink what you watch and listen to. I urge you to rethink what games you or your children or friends might play. I urge you to rethink the words you use on a daily basis. I want a world of peace. Peace starts in the heart, not out there. Peace starts with you and with me, and is spread through our compassionate actions.

Friend Survey

I have decided to write a book about friendship. I made this decision based on conversations I had with various people, observations of people, as well as my own experiences. The book is primarily for people who have recently come into the 'real world.' So 20 somethings who find themselves in a strange city with few or no connections. I've sent out a survey to some of my immediate contacts, but if you know of anyone who might be interested in taking the survey and being part of this work (perhaps even getting their friendship story in a book), please drop a line through the comment shoot (or read on for further possibilities).

As I go through the process I will keep people updated. I also intend to maintain some kind of dialogue with those who respond to my survey. Any questions regarding the survey or the project I will by any means entertain. I will not include any contact information in the published work, nor will I include your name. The survey is for informational purposes only.

It is divided into three short parts which will take a total of perhaps 15-20 minutes of your time. Below you will find the first part of the survey:

1. Male or Female:
2. How old are you:
3a. In what city and state do you live?
3b. This is your __hometown __college town __summer experience __job location
4a. Approximately how many acquaintances do you have (in the city where you live)?
__0-10 ___11-25 ___26-50 ___51-75 ___76-100 ___100+

4b. Approximately how many of those acquaintances do you interact with on a weekly basis?

4c. You met them primarily because they are (choose one)
__ co-workers
__ connections through friends
__ involved in same activity groups
__ neighbors
__ members of the same religious organization
__ other (explain)

5a. Approximately how many comrades/associates do you have (in the city where you live)?
___ 0-4 ___5-10 ___11-25 ___ 26-40 ___ 41-60

5b. Approximately how many of those comrades/associates do you interact with on a weekly basis?

5c. You met them primarily because they are (choose one)
__co-workers
__ connections through friends
__ involved in same activity groups
__ neighbors
__ members of the same religious organization
__ other (explain)

6a. Approximately how many friends do you have (in the city where you live)?
___0 ___ 1-5 ___ 6-10 ___ 11-15 ___ 16-20 ___ 21-30 ___ 31-50

6b. How many of those friends do you interact with on a weekly basis?

6c. Of those friends, how many of them are close friends/confidantes?

6d. Please explain when, where, and how you met them.

7a. Have you ever placed a personal ad online? __yes __no
7b. Have you ever used craigslist? ___yes ___no
7c. If so, for what purpose?

7d. Have you ever used meet-up.com? ___yes ___no
7e. If so, for what purpose?

***********************************

You may either copy and paste it into the comment section (which does remain anonymous if you so choose) OR you may email your serious response to me at: alexis.tara@gmail.com

I will post the second and third parts of the survey up for you to do at your leisure if anyone chooses to take part in the survey via comment. Otherwise I will email you the second and third portions within 2-3 days of your email.

Thank you so much for your participation!!

Thinking Sea

It's been some time since I've posted. How does life get away from you? Quite easily. Americorps is coming to an end. Youth pastoring came to an end. These are just some random thoughts that are floating around my head. Some are quotes, some are mine, some are something else altogether. If you recognize any, drop a line and you get points.

Someone once told me love is friendship on fire.

The glass is always full.

The song you like the most is the one you can never completely remember and you never completely forget.

What grade did you get in your class? A middle C.

Writing things down to remember later is key.

Waiting is the hardest part.

Whenever you're tempted, if you think of some combination of God and what you really want, you're no longer tempted.

There are many kinds of love, friendship being one of the best.

Just wait for me. Don't come looking for me, just wait. Meet me at the lake.

When you find the right thing, everything else fits together... it all falls into place... mountains are mole hills.

Peace comes to a clean house.

The unexpected is neither good nor bad, only fun.

Why deny what comes naturally?

Generally the things that are hard are also right.

I'll be running up that road, make a deal with God, ask him to swap our places.

Looking at her from across the room... smiling at everything they do.

Is she gonna marry him?
What do you think?
I think she's waiting for the next thing around the corner.

We're on a mission from God.

I don't know what I'll say, or who I'll say it to, all I know is I'm saying.

This has been a year long week...there's been several in the past month.

Sensuous up, can you bring me a beer?

The blood must have rushed out of his hands...settled in his arms somewhere. That's why they looked painted. They looked almost translucent, like they were meant to.

I'm supposed to be alive right now.

This is the beginning of something wonderful.

The Last Decision - Choose Life

I had a long week. I went to Berkeley to visit my love interest this past weekend. That was wonderful. He is wonderful.

Unfortunately my grandfather passed that Saturday morning. It was strange being apart from my family when it happened. All the same, it was nice to be there of all the other possible places I could be (he consistently makes me smile). So instead of flying back to Santa Barbara, I flew to Pittsburgh for a funeral and a week fewer of Americorps hours. I couldn't help thinking, why does death have to be so complicated?

It shouldn't be. In many ways, I feel like death is more complicated than birth. At least when a person is born, everyone celebrates. They think it is this beautiful thing. All the potential for hope and beauty in the world lies in this tiny body of a baby. It's wonderful. The politics of the parents involved are forgotten for a moment, sometimes forever, as this new life is enjoyed and loved.

Death is not so easy. Instead, the politics of your life become entombed as you are interred. For example, in my beloved family, my grandmother did not make the best choices. She married a total of three times. The first man, my aunt's father, she divorced. The second, my father's biological father, died when my dad was only 5 months old. The third, my other aunt's father, died this past Saturday. He was the man I called 'Pap.' Now, my dad's biological father was idealized in my grandmother's mind. He has remained so, even to this day. Even after 50 years of being married to George she still talked about Barney. She even discussed having Barney's remains dug up and buried on one side, George's placed on the other, and her own buried in between. As you can imagine, this didn't go over very well with George.

Now, don't misunderstand. My grandmother loved my grandfather. She still loves him. It just was never the same kind of love she felt for Barney. This idealized love has had it's repurcussions on the living. It made my dad the favorite and my aunts second best. It made me special whereas the other grandchildren, while all loved, were held in a different kind of regard. I won't say I was the favorite, because I don't know that I was. I only mean that I was treated differently because I was Barney's blood.

It is only after my grandfather died, and my grandmother had left her apartment for a nursing home that we were able to begin to process some of the mystery of my grandmother's relationships and my grandparents' choices. We found death certificates and photographs, rings and pendants, notes and records. It was a great lesson. The whole ordeal - the different grave plots (while Barney was buried near a nice tree next to my great uncle and great grandparents, my grandfather was buried near a busy road, where my grandmother will join him) the mess left with the survivors - it was all a lesson on how to live.

Live so that you don't leave a mess. Live so that you die how you want to die, leave things you want them left. Live so that you know exactly what is happening to your body once you're gone. Will your possessions (howeve meager they may be) to people in a witnessed legal document. Leave this world at least partially on your own terms - yes you don't have too much control over how you die, but you DO have control over what people will deal with when you do. Leave plenty of stories for loved ones to tell at your service. Make sure they give you the proper send-off, whether it's drinking IC Lite at the Italian American Club, or it's burning incense in the Japanese Tea Garden in Balboa Park, just make sure people know what you want.

Do the right thing. Don't make other people miserable because you can, make people joyful because you want to! Honor your preferences. Appreciate the people whom you love. Admit when you've been wrong. Settle differences. Have lots of parties. Eat wonderful food. Make lots of love to your partner. Nurture your spirit. Listen to music. Play outside. Dance at every opportunity! Sing! Do whatever it is that brings you a sense of fulfillment and peace. Keep a journal to let generations after you know what went on inside of you as you lived.

I have to say that once I grew up I began journalling consistently. I started choosing to do things because they might be the only chance I will ever get to do them. I started making a commitment to going after my dreams and taking care of my needs. I decided I wasn't going to do something just because someone else wanted me to, but only to ever do something if it fits in with my purpose and my needs. I try to tie up loose ends whenever I can. Leaving things incomplete is a recipe of disaster that I will not follow.

There are a lot of things we can do to make sure we choose life. There are a lot of things we can do to make sure we make the best possible decision for our lives. Examine. Explore. Savor. Be careful, but do not be overly cautious. Fear can keep us from the most amazing experiences of our lives. I'm going to keep visiting that guy in Berkeley. Why? He enriches my time, every moment I am with him or talking to him he adds value. That's the kind of decision that yields good fruit, which when planted will yield a beautiful orchard. Sounds like a good choice to me.

Strands of Fate?

I don't really believe in coincidences. So when someone comes into my life in a very unexpected way, it's certainly considered worth my notice. Yet, there are some things that are a little too perfect. In fact, they are so perfectly orchestrated, it leaves a person wondering "what is so important about this circumstance?"

No matter what your opinion on the movie Meet Joe Black, there is certainly an element there of perfectly timed circumstance (the early scene in the diner). Now take that scene, and the 'coincidences' of the things said, and then multiply it several times over. That would bring you to the situation where I currently reside.

Why, for example, would someone who graduated from my alma mater and grew up in PA, randomly end up with my screen name on his buddy list? How is it possible that our time overlapped at such a small school and we never met while at school? How is it possible that he roomed with some of my friends and we never met? He has connections to Austria. I have connections to Hungary (see the history of the Austro-Hungarian Empire). He has a wine collection. I wish I had a wine collection... There are more connections that I could draw, but for the sake of sparing you (from the background of each), I will let them be. It is only now, several years later, while we live in the same Western state, hundreds of miles apart, that we are finally able to meet.

I have no idea what the purpose of this connection is or why it wasn't made sooner. I can only speculate. I know, from experience, that timing is everything. Timing combined with life circumstance... is like cooking. If you are missing one essential ingredient, the bread doesn't rise, the brownies turnout hard, the pudding doesn't gel. I feel the Spirit move more at this point in my life than I did earlier. I can see much better how things may fit together. I can see purpose, direction, reasons for things to be the way they are as I move from one step to another. I am very interested to see how something with so many parallel strands will turn out. It can only influence many things to come. I feel that any fruit from this plant will be good, but not just good, great. I just wait to see the exact type.

Loose Screws - Jaws the final chapter

This is belated. I got the 16 mm screw taken out of my upper gum/bone, and the hook/wire out of my lower gum on May 2. I ate pizza. I ate salad. On Friday I ate a cheeseburger. The pizza was okay...not quite as exciting as I thought it could be. The cheeseburger was amazing. I smoked shisha, the middle-eastern flavored tobacco. It was the first time since October.

The cheeseburger was more exciting, the shisha was just additional celebrational fare. Saturday I ate a hardshell chicken taco. It was awesome. To have something that crunches between your teeth after almost 5 months time of no real crunch, well, it's nothing short of glorious.

There is a reason why there is a variety of texture in the world -for us to ENJOY. I fully intend to enjoy every crunch I am able in the next few weeks. The jaws are slowly getting used to the work-out required for green beans and salad, as well as other vegetables. Those make me want to stop eating. After all, if it's difficult, you lose your appetite.

Now it is just a matter of time to have the chrome removed. That will be amazing. I anxiously await the day that happens and plan to paint the town red. I'll get dressed up, go downtown, and flirt my way through the night with many a flashing smile.

There's a wall - what do we do now?

Where do we go now?

Well, today ABCPSW was voted out...by the regional church delegates (that is the conservative region of American Baptist Churches of the Pacific SouthWest held a vote to leave the denomination - read more about it here).

As one of the delegates present in SLO, I couldn't help but think how painful the thing is. It feels like a child deciding to disown his/her parents. Wrong. Terribly, utterly, awfully wrong.

I don't like the things PSW has done, nor do I like the direction the region has been going on the issues which have caused us to come to this point. That said, division doesn't do anyone good. It only serves to bring us further along an unhealthy path. Humans are social creatures. We function best together. It is the same way in an organization. The hand doesn't say to the foot, 'I don't need you any more, goodbye!' and leave. Ridiculous. Absurd. Yet, this is what happened today.

It caused me to think about my place in the Church.

Where do I go? What do I do? With whom do I align? I just don't know. As someone who grew up in the church with 2 minister parents, it is a difficult question. I love God. I love the teachings of Jesus. I love the way. I do not love the Church. It is a corrupt and awful institution that has created much evil and heartbreak in its path. Dating back to Constantine... when Christianity became a state religion, we can see the wake of pain. I wash my hands of this blood.

As this century begins, there is a calling, a need, a longing for a new kind of worship. There is a searching for wholeness and healing, a cure for division and pain wrought by the Church. A house divided cannot stand. Let me tell you, a new house is being built. A new way, and the same way as ever is being shown. Let us close our eyes and leap out into the abyss of unknowing. Let us take a step in this new direction. Let us walk the Way. Let us walk the only Way, in truth and light, in healing and hope. Let us tear down barriers, destroy borders. Let us be plants that reclaim the cemented sidewalk.

We will be like the German people at the Berlin Wall in 1989 - re-creating a whole Berlin. The Chinese can tell you that walls do not work. They are not defensible. They are not practical. They serve as projects of unhealthy isolation - a psychological crutch for those who build them. They never stop the onslaught of steppe peoples to the north from running into Chinese territories. Let us blast through these walls with love and understanding. Let us forge alliances, and stand on common ground.

I extend my hands to the people on the otherside. I open my arms to the margins. Join me. Join us - people like me around the country and the world. There is a call, a longing, a seeking. We will build this house together, stronger than before...
We will be mustard plants in the farmer's fields. No one can cut us out...no one can stop us from spreading the message, the word, the love. The REAL love. Agape. Our hearts are on fire. Love for people. This is the new order. This is the new direction. This will be the new proving ground. Come with me. It's time to leap.

God sometimes you just don't come through...

"Do you need a woman to look after you?...oh God sometimes you just don't come through." That's a portion of the chorus from Tori Amos' song God. That song expresses some of the hopelessness that alot of young people feel who have grown up in the faith. To address some of those issues, I've started a spirituality group for 20 somethings that meets on Thursdays at 8pm in Mojo's Coffee. As a group, we hope to address questions and struggles around God and spirituality in general.

It's a brand-spanking-new thing, so we're not sure exactly how it will take shape. That all depends on the group present. After all, it is for the people present, and so will be taylored for them and by them (similar to the name of a certain clothing line - hinthintnudgenudge - for us by ___). I'm only playing the role of a facilitator, monitoring discussion, and so I'm not asking the questions.

My vision is that it becomes it's own animal, and really takes on a life of it's own. I think it will. Time and love are the two most important factors. We'll see.

Who knows what life brings? Who knows how the spirit will move? Yet, I know it does. I can see it as the marble is cut away to reveal the form inside.

Faded Photographs

It's sad when someone gives something up without a fight - or so they say. I mean, "don't it always seem you don't know what you got til it's gone." The funny thing about memory is that you sometimes forget the reasons why you did things. You only remember the things that made you feel good... or the spectacularlly bad situation which is the stuff of legend. If there is no spectacularlly bad thing, you only remember smiles, kisses, hugs, and sweet nothings. And eventually, you even forget that.

While I was in Pennsylvania I had the opportunity to look at old family photos. Unlike some families that organize their photos in scrapbooks and albums, these were just piled into boxes. That tradition continued into my immediate family, and I suppose, ended with me. In any case, photo boxes tell just as much as albums. I learned some things about my family that I had never imagined.

Now, these things were not large all encompassing things. They weren't silly stories, or long lost dreams. I saw photos of my dad's ex-girlfriend from highschool. There was even a picture of them kissing. She looked kind of like my mom, but more plain and with a rounder face. I asked about it. I mean, why, after all these years (most of which my dad has been married to my mom, and only ever my mom) did these photos still reside in my grandparents' photo boxes? It seemed a strange thing. My dad confessed that she was an on-again/off-again. Apparently there had been several times when he had dated this particular girl. She must have stuck in his head a little more than most, because even after having met my mother (before they became very serious) he talked about this girl. But of course, he met my mother.

It got me thinking about relationships in a way that I hadn't before. There's always one before. There's always one that gets mentioned again. It colors our experiences afterwards. But it's just a color - and with repeated exposure to sunlight and sometimes spilled coffee, it disappears entirely.

I uprooted my plumeria. It just didn't fit in the soil. I was worried it would get too much sun and dry out, or drown in the water of an unusually wet winter. It happened so fast, it was almost as though it was swallowed by the marine layer. He stopped talking. He stopped writing. I stopped calling. Right now, of course, I'm nursing the hurt of realization. I'm nursing the hurt that he didn't care enough to fight or to say how much he cared, or how this was painful for him to realize too. I was greeted with silence. Silence says so much it's scary sometimes. And here I am, trying to comfort myself by talking, talking into silence.

I'm nursing the pain so my selective memory hasn't yet set in. I'm still waiting for the negative memories to fade, and leave me with all sweet nothings that were dealt in glances and furtive hand holdings. And then, someone will come along. Someone always does. They will be bigger and brighter than the morning star. They will fade the memories with time and exposure.

Some day a child of mine will come upon my slim album where I collect pictures of meaningful people and ask about this one. "He was my on-again/off-again." "I was still talking about him when I met your father." "Yes, that shirt was a terrible idea." "No, I only wore that dress once." "I don't remember what we did, I don't remember what we said." "You look just like me." "You're doing the same thing I did." "Don't let this discourage you, we all go through it." The silence of the photo gives way to the laughter of a lover.

Conquer-The-World Heels

Sometimes you need to clean house. Sometimes you need to clean house a big way. I was in Pennsylvania for a week, and it kicked my house-cleaning into high gear.

To get anything done, you need to be able to say it out loud. You need to be able to articulate a thing. It took me until this trip to be able to articulate the things I really wanted.

It started with articulated goals. Just ask yourself, what do you want in 3 years? 5? 10?

Well, I finally answered that series of questions. When you really focus on the things you want, jobs, friends, hobbies, spouse, etc. it often causes you to change the direction that you were going. I for example, figured out that I will probably surround myself with a lot of suits. Suits mean dressing up and entertaining. They also mean a spouse that can handle the situation. Needless to say, I bought a copy of Pink Magazine.

That was just the beginning. I bought heels. Not just any kind of heels, but conquer-the-world heels. When I first showed my dad the shoes, he thought they were "f***-me pumps." Well, the shoes I got are not coated in vinyl or rubber. They're leather. On some women, heels are always f***-me pumps. It has to do with how a woman carrys herself. Other women, heels are always conquer-the-world heels. It's not really about the shoes, it's about ambition, intelligence, and passion. It's the difference between a bar-fly and a board director. I'll be the latter. When I bought those shoes it wasn't about choosing a shoe, it was about actively choosing a life-style.

Whenever you choose a new path you have to clean house. You change the way you frame yourself and your world. You change the places you eat and the clothing you wear. You change the way you speak. You get rid of flings and instead pursue serious interests. You bring closure to incompletes which allows you to open new doors that never before existed. This path is only a continuation of a choice I made mid-high school when I gave up my slacker friends for the top 10% of the class. At first it was painful, but slowly it gave way to liberation and to things that I really wanted. Here's to new beginnings. I'll sip my syrah and kick-back in my conquer-the -world heels.

Going All The Way - 100

Percent. That's the amount of devotion that is ideal for everything you put yourself into. Any amount less, will yield a less complete result. It's waking up every morning and saying "YES" to your day. That kind of commitment means work, and sometimes boredom. Yet at the same time, it also means fulfillment. When you make that kind of commitment, you get the results you want. You can achieve nothing less - be it your relationships, your work, working out, or reading more on a daily basis. This is the difference. This is the difference between 100 and 50. When you commit only 50% of the time, you get half of the results. It's a waste of your time to do something half-way, and it's a waste of other people's time. If it's one thing that I've learned this year, that could be the lesson for my year, it is this. Go all the way, or don't do it.

This was reflected in my surgery. I committed to doing it. I wanted results. I have followed my surgeon's instructions. I WANT a PERFECT bite, nothing less. I have stayed in Americorps, after some suffering, because I chose this. I signed a contract and I said I would do it, and so I have. Now, I would not trade the experience for anything. I made the right decision. Because of my commitment to my friends, when I need them the most, they're there. I am glad that I didn't ditch them, or let the relationships be half-way. I made a promise to myself that I would only pursue education that would allow me to make a difference in the world politically and socially. I am not enrolling in just any program, but my ideal program which found me rather than me having to find it. If you make the commitment, you reap the benefits of your commitment.

It took me this year to really understand this. I had an international friend in college who explained this lesson to me before I was able to articulate such a concept. I asked him about his relationship to his girlfriend. This woman was the first woman he had ever dated, and in his estimation would become his wife (of which I have little doubt, if she has as much commitment to him as he does her). I asked him a naive question - whether or not he would marry her, whether or not he would date other people. He explained, his ships had sailed, landed, and he had burned them. There was no going back. This was his choice. He made it. He was sticking by it. At the time I couldn't understand. This young, beautiful, intelligent man was only going to date one person ever?! Of course, he knew something that I did not. He was committed, and commitment yields beautiful fruits. Now that I am older, and have gone through the experiences of the past year, I realized the truth of his explanation.

Unfortunately, commitment is not easy. It may be simple, but it is not easy. Let's revisit my plumeria. Sometimes I am tempted to go down other paths, there are many beautiful flowers. One of my friends recently asked me, "When are you going to get over him?" Even if I could get over him, that is a mute point. I burned my ships. I made that decision a long time ago. I've stuck to it. I've waffled sometimes, some people have provided convincing arguments against my choice, and others have tempted me away from my choice. In the end however, the arguments are flawed and the temptations are rotten. The only thing remaining is the person I chose.

Maybe the other people are not as committed. Maybe some other factor gets in the way to prevent fruits from ripening. How many times does commitment lead to ruin versus times everything goes right? It's not worth considering. It doesn't matter. But even if it did, commitment is a very persuasive thing. You can't push it aside. If someone is committed to you, you know it. It's clear. You wake up, and you know. You go to sleep, and you know. It's very rare that commitment leads to some place gone awry.

The lesson - be committed to the things you do. Don't go half-way, because then you'll be short-changing yourself and those around you. Go all the way. Give 100% all the time. The results are worth working for.

Night Of The Blended Blob - Jaws 3

This past Tuesday brought me to my soft food diet. Mmmm. Yummy. Actually, softfood includes things like lasagna, rice and beans, chile relleno, eggs, banana bread (without a stiff outside), sandwich bread, peanut butter and jelly, baked potatoes, and the list goes on. They say the possibilities are endless, and the reality is that I have a lot more options now than I did previously. Milkshakes are actually appealing. I just hope this change doesn't cause me to balloon up. I like being 138. I'd like to stay in that range.

Yet, it's still strange. You don't think about the sensation of food between your teeth when you have always been able to chew (or atleast for as long as you can remember). Maxo-facial surgery actually forces you to relearn how to chew (!!!). It feels odd once you have that bit of flaky fish in between your molars. It feels alien. It can't belong there, but it does, and it always has. The change in textures is LOVELY. The ability to use utensils...really makes you feel like you're part of society again. You don't really appreciate the use of a fork until you can't use it (although I guess some parts of the world could care less, as an American it was a big deal).

Finally I am seperated from the blender! Granted, I can't eat delectable things such as coleslaw (cabbages being a little on the tough side), but the movement from blended poultry is really a plus. Tamales filled with flaked pig muscle is a great change (to be perfectly graphic).

Now I just have to bring the rest of my life back into balance and I should be okay. Food, check. Organized room... uh...not yet. Americorps hours back to normal, um...check BACK later. Exercise regimen, yeah...we'll get there. Right. Well, at least one thing is pseudo-normal about my current schedule. Equilibrium is such a fine thing in that it always comes back. It's just a matter of time...

Mundane

No one mentions that a handmade telescope
From a first grader can feel so warm
Even after the adhesive smears inside your bag...

Or how the description of divine inspired color
Between sunset and dusty ground
Lights up your eyes.

How much I miss on a daily basis!

I don't stop to listen to the music
Of a kitsch woodland creature fountain
Or sparks reflecting off bottles
Of deep hued perfumes.

...the snowing that goes on
My shelves everyday
And the over excited barking
Of my packmates nextdoor.

So sharply subtle...
I feel it all and put none to paper!
Instead I push my tongue against my molar
Sit at the keys to play one more hand.

a poem

This is a poem that I wrote this morning as my dad prayed (click 'expand post').

What Really Happened

I divorced myself from you
Quit going daily, weekly
Quit waking up and being there.

The commitment I made
When I crossed the heart's threshold,
Life water

What prevents us from reconciling the pieces of this broken house?
Me?
But where have you been?
Hiding.
Waiting inbetween the lines?

I'm not strong enough to look there.

Crawling out of the corners of my eyes,
I still hope for your return.

Affirmative.

I recently picked up a book that had been recommended to me by my Americorps supervisor. I'm not much for self help books. When I was younger and much more guilible, I purchased one or two because, well, I thought they would do something amazing for me. They didn't. In fact, they ended up becoming an expensive doorstop. The Success Principles is, however, different. Rather than being a doorstop, it is a catalyst for change.

Extended post hereLike I said before, I'm not much for self-help books. This book sat on my bedroom floor for several weeks before I finally decided I should pick it up. It was on loan from my sup because she said I could get Americorps hours for reading it (if it works, it helps you to perform better, in theory). Seeing as my sup was getting antsy for her book back, I decided I would read it so that I might return it. I am usually a fast reader. However, with this book I find myself re-reading lines, paragraphs and sometimes whole pages. Infrequently, I even read a page out loud to myself. Needless to say I am less than half-way through. I am also no longer reading the book. No, I am still reading The Success Principles, I mean to say I am reading a different copy - my own. I got my own copy because I want to be able to refer back to concepts, and to underline things I want to find quickly.

How has this book made such a strong impact on me? The book is about getting what you want by acting like you already have it. The reason this works is because the brain expects it. When the brain expects something, it finds ways to help make it happen. Because, in this world, when you expect something to happen, it does. Sweet.

p.s. Even several weeks after I began writing this post, I am still reading this book. The most difficult part, implementing the principles. I guess once you begin it becomes easier and easier as you build up your life changing momentum. I imagine I'll keep you posted on those.

Remember Purpose

It is easy to forget. Sometimes I forget my motivation. Sometimes I forget the papers I need. Sometimes I forget what information is due what time to which person. Sometimes I forget why I began walking this way for this year.

Then I see them. They are full of life, and so much promise. I see them and the walls that the world forces upon them. I see the results of their broken families, of learning differences, of a native language other than English and I see their struggle.

There is only one reason why I do this, why I focus my life the way I do. If I can change fate, if I can stack the deck the opposite direction, if I can plant a mustard seed, I will have accomplished what I set out to do. Their struggle will not disappear from my actions, this is true. Even still, the bonds we make, and the time I give to them to nourish these plants that grow out of twisted cement cracks, is enough. One will become a tree.

I don’t do this to see numbers. Numbers do not measure my success. They are not helpful and do not show the real fruit of this labor. A child breaking out of their shell, beginning to answer questions in class, volunteering to read, this is my success. One is enough. Yet how do I know I reached even one? I know because of the smiles I get as I pass. I know because of the waves I get as I walk. I know because of the explosion of excitement that happens when I walk into a classroom. “Can I read with you?” “Can you help me?” “Where were you?” “Hey! Guess what?!”

Even when I am tired, even when I am upset, when I see them, when I know their need, my tiredness disappears for that moment. We are there. It doesn’t matter how long it takes to explain. I explain seven times, eight, twenty. I listen to their problems, to the walls they cannot break through, when no one else can listen. Someone cares for them. Someone loves them just because, and they know they are a gift. They see their worth.

That is the moment that makes it all worth it. That is the moment when it comes full circle. I remember.

I'm 23 - Give Me An Extra Large Bowl

Ben Roethlisberger, Jerome Bettis, Hines Ward, Willie Parker... I love you all. In case you can't tell, I'm a Steelers fan. It's hard being a Steelers fan in Santa Barbara CA where no one knows what Iron City tastes like, or Yingling, or who Mellon or Frick or Carnegie were. It's hard when you're celebrating a holiday that no one else is celebrating. We went to a superbowl party, like so many people do, but, they were mostly rooting for the Steelers because my dad is a huge Steelers fan. They didn't want to be on his bad side.

I do have to make a shout out to the second youngest quarterback ever to play in the bowl. Yes, Big Ben. Damn it feels good to be 23. I couldn't have agreed with that statement last month, or even most of last week. But sometimes you wake up in the morning and everything is just a bit brighter. The flowers are a hue more vibrant, the weather is perfect (even if it's whiteout conditions), and even the snotty salesclerk is positively endearing. No, it's not because of a beautiful win (although in Big Ben's case it might be *grin*). No, for me it was more about having a normal looking face and flirting with the clerk behind the counter at Blenders In The Grass (actually, he was the supervisor, and his name was also Ben...). It was also going with my friend downtown to get his WW2 Japanese Katana appraised...and then walking around with it. It was eating grits with butter and cheese. I say these things, not to make the XL win less meaningful, because, in the careers of the Steelers, it means a lot. I say this because for the average non-NFL playing person, it is all about the grits with butter, the vibrant flower, a child's laugh, the arms of a lover.

You did notice, Ben is still single. Yowzah.

Yes, 1982 was a good year, for wine, and for people (from my first hand experience). According to the Chinese Zodiac, exactly 24 years from when I was born, this will be a lucky year for all of us born in 1982, or even 12 years later or 12 years before. I just thought I would put in a positive note, because frankly, you know it's going to be a good year, when your team wins the Lombardi Trophy.

Jaws 2 - Infinitesimally small particles

When they say liquid diet, they mean liquid diet. That may have been the only thing that truly went as planned...and even that wasn't completely. Because I healed quickly. My stitches closed more quickly than was scheduled, so when the second week came, I was moved up immediately to 'particles.' This means I am now able to have blended drinks rather than strained juices and am able to wear 3 elastics which dictate how my jaw closes. These elastics are taken off twice daily at which point I am to stretch my jaws by opening and closing my mouth as much as I am able and then to brush my teeth. Yes, that means before particles I was unable to brush my teeth. You can imagine the joy of being able to remove fuzz once I was able to take my nostaligic pink 'my little pony' toothbrush which my mother had so enthusiastically gifted me to my pearly whites.

I have also been fortunate enough to get passed over for my share of bruising (ah how genetics have shat and favored me in one go!) as well as having a lot less swelling than the average maxofacial surgical patient. So while my jaws are broader than they would be normally - than they WILL be normally - they are not grotesque.

My father has graciously photographed the stages of my recovery journey. I will upload them as soon as I am able for all the world to see. It's almost like a Bardian senior thesis project that one inspired senior created. Hers involved documenting how orange her skin became as she proceeded to eat more and more carrots over a period of time. I think mine is more beneficial to my health than hers was to her health. I could be wrong. I just never thought orange was the ideal color for skin....in any person. But like I said, I could be wrong.

Needless to say my time in hibernation (the best word for my self-inflicted reclusive actions for the past 2.5 weeks) has been rather productive. I finally cleansed my now happy laptop and restored it to its obsolete glory! I also knitted two scarves - one knitted with two cables. Sweet. On top of this I have read more of the beloved 1984 after quite a long retreat from the classic manual of our times, as well as having painted approximately 60% of a commissioned canvas work (a mermaid) for a friend's wall. Not too shabby. Ah, I also sharpened my jaw opening skills, cup drinking skills, and my ability to sleep on my back without turning side to side too much (quite a feat for a side sleeper). I should also recount the fact that I have further honed my Sudoku solving ability by making use of the daily newspaper puzzle as well as my giant Sudoku book which I bought just after the new year.

For giggles, let me tell you the fabulous dinner I tried this evening. Upon recommendation by the nurse at my surgeon's office, my mother blended orange peel chicken (yes...blended it) with the aid of some chicken broth. As could be imagined, it was a beautiful color and texture. The first attempt was so thick it merely stuck inbetween my jaws and my braces being so thick I was unable to suck or pour the thing down my waiting throat. The second attempt was a little more successful, if slightly more disgusting as per presentation (not that the first was VERY good). My mother added a bit more chicken broth. Needless to say, this simply sped up the process of sticking chicken flecks inbetween my perma-wires and elastics as well as looked just like something my cat recently regurgitated.

In the interest of nutrition, I did drink half of it. Then, proceeded to break open a fortune cookie, take the fortune and give the cookie pieces to my folks. My fortune this evening read: TAKE A TRIP WITH A FRIEND (in all caps, I kid you not and in the Verdana font).

Well, I would love to, really, any trip (and I mean any) at this point would do however I do have obligations for the next several months (until JUNE!!! WOOHOOOO!!!) not the least of which is to return to my sweet surgeon's office regularlly to monitor my jawful progress.

Wish me more comfortable sleeping tonight than last. Good night. I'll see you when there is no longer darkness. ;-)

Adaptations: Part 1 of Jaws

They say that survival is left to the fittest. Well, I beg to differ. Survival is left to the lucky. Forced natural selection? I don't think so! Last Wednesday I went under the knife for the first time (well, wisdom teeth doesn't really count). Yes, I was a patient who elected to have maxo-facial surgery. This means that while my bite could not be fixed adequately with orthodontics, surgery could easily 'close the gap' (literally!).

Without things like corrective lenses, surgery, antibiotics, and any number of things... a lot of people would be a lot less desirable and some would be a lot less living. Now, I don't subscribe to the view that we should let nature take it's course. I am not a Christian Scientist. I believe that God gave us the resources we have - like intelligence- so that we may use them to both better ourselves and to care for the world. This means that when we know how to make and use corrective lenses for myopia, we make them and use them. It's a pretty straight line from A to B. The problem comes when certain groups of people have more access to these resources than others. Then the deciding factor of who lives or dies becomes money in a bank rather than the person's worth as a human being.

Suddenly natural selection is not 'natural' but rather 'socio-economic.' Whenever I think about issues of class I repeatedly come back to thinking of a friend of mine who considers herself to be middle class, yet, she is by any standard I know of, operating in the context of generational wealth. This is because those people who DO have access to these resources don't want us to KNOW they do. If we KNEW they had access to all these resources, to life when others around the world can only choose death, can you imagine what would happen to those resource saturated persons?! It would be Bastille Day all over again!! Yes, I believe it would stir some class consciousness. We wouldn't want that, now would we?