waiting, snowing, reading, smiling, giving

Well, the new year has started off slowly for me. Yes, I realize it's February and I'm talking about New Years. I graduated in December (finally!!!) and have since been waiting on my license to process. Ohio, land of the slow. It's February and I'm still not working. Sigh, its a waiting game, and in a way, winter seems the perfect time to wait.

I know I've talked about winter and waiting before, or at least winter and resting. I have to be honest, it is about this time of year and when I start to almost physically ache for spring. The snow still falls, and the bitter winds still blow, and we have nothing to do, but wait, and hope.

With all of my waiting, I have been doing my usual wintertime activities, just in greater abundance. I've been reading like crazy.

I've started the Harry Potter series. I'm currently on book three The Prisoner of Azkaban.   I was reluctant to read these. I had already watched all the movies and wondered if I would be able to keep interest in them. I was wrong. They are fantastic, in the truest sense of the word. I open each new book, sometimes butterflies in my stomach to see how she is going to describe the magical plots I already know.

A Wrinkle in Time: The Graphic Novel , yes, you read correctly, its a graphic novel now. I've never been a reader (viewer?) of graphic novels so this was a new endeavor for me. I loved it! I've already read the first three regular novels in the Wrinkle series, and I adore them all. This was a whole new experience. I read (looked at?) each page slowly, and just took it all in. The dialogue, the artwork, the use of space--it was a new and visually interesting experience. I included this image of the first page, rather than the cover, so you can get the idea. I may venture out into some more graphic novels. Although, Meg is one of my favorite characters of all time and I don't know if anything else could quite match up.

Its funny that so much of my reading has been stories I know and love in new formats (for me).

I have also just started Mother Teresa's In the Heart of the World. I grew up very baptist, so studying a catholic, as wonderful as she was, was not looked upon highly. Recently, I have run across quotes by her here and there that have made there way into my heart and mind. I checked this out of the library, its a series of thoughts, prayers, and stories by Mother Teresa. So far its beautiful. I am touched by her giving spirit and it has changed the way I pray already. 

I mentioned that I graduated in December, my graduation date was December 14, 2012 to be exact. I suppose for many of us, that date has become a dark day due to the events at Sandy Hook. I wanted to write about them, I wanted to write about graduation, but I couldn't. Those events overwhelmed me in a way I couldn't and didn't want to describe and at times they still do. I didn't know how to celebrate in the face of grief. I was shocked by the events in Connecticut, I was shocked by the public's quick and all too political reactions. I don't think for a minute that we shouldn't look at and develop new policies, it's just that those events, those families, those teachers, those students, were so quickly exploited for political agendas of the right and the left. It all just tore my heart up. It made me question my career choice, it made me question if the world could be a good place. The world seemed darker. Hope seemed ripped out of our hands. 

Slowly, I began to "recover". I realized that the solution, isn't in politics, its in kindness. This had been called naive by so many, but I just can't get passed the notion that if we really looked, really looked at the people around us, the world would be different.

All this to say, the words of Mother Teresa have served as a healing agent for me. I needed to remember that people can be kind, that I can be kind, and that it matters. It really matters. I cannot change the whole world, but I can help the person, the people around me. I can give, I can love, I can smile, I can cry, I can forgive, I can pray. Those things matter. They are not weak things. They are not naive things. They are the strongest of things. They are our hope. The hope that nobody can rip from our hands.

"We never know how much just a simple smile will do." Mother Teresa

findING a place

Today is one of those days for me. A dark day.

It is one of those days for no particular reason at all, and for every reason in the world.

It has been a gray, rainy, lonely, ragged, tired, heavy, tried-to-pull-myself-up-but couldn't, kind of day.

It is days like this that I must write. Sometimes without really having anything to actually say, but I must say something.

I need someway to move forward. Something concrete to look at. Words. Maybe they aren't really concrete. But they are the something that I need right now.

Words are the something that I need to write or read or hear or speak.

I am an emotional person. I've finally, after many years, embraced this about myself. All of the joy, anger, grief, quietness, anxiety, "blah-ness", empathy, and any other emotion you could possibly think of need some place to go, and today they go here.

They become words.

People need words. It is our words that inspire and move and change us. Words can break us into a thousand bits. The absence of words can do the same. And sometimes that's just it I've noticed. The absence of words can break us to bits. The absence of words can destroy us.

I often wonder why I blog or why does anybody else for that matter, and that's just it. I do it for words. Mine and others.

We need each other. We need words. And although, I will always, always,  value the real life words, of a real life person--flesh and bone and heart and beauty--sitting across from you with the weight of the world or the joy and wonder of it within them, so much more. Somehow, I think we, or at least I, need this. This space. This very odd, public space to give and receive the wonder of words.

So, as I make it through this dark day, that is here for no reason in particular and for every reason in the world, I at least have the quietness, and steadiness of words to see me through.

Thank you for being a part of it.

savING grace

When I needed it most...we went to a good friend's wedding out of town. We laughed, and danced, and celebrated with them. It was a thousand degrees out and we drove 13 hours to get there, but I couldn't have cared less. My heart was so full of joy for them and for all the wonderful people there celebrating with them, that I cried like a total idiot during the toast, because I tried to hold it all in during the ceremony. Nobody cries like that during toasts. Especially ones they aren't even giving. But to be honest, I love that being with people can make my heart feel so so big, it just has to spill over in wonderful, lovely, seemingly endless, tears of shear joy.

When I needed it most, we found friends that we can stay up with and watch a fire dance in the night while our laughter danced right along with it.  Even on week nights, when we should all be in bed like responsible adults. Discovering that we have so much more in common than we thought. "Oh, you stay up at night every now again wondering if you're becoming a serial killer or some other terrible illogical thing but just don't know it yet? Me too!! It must be totally normal".... Even if its just one other person, its nice to find someone whose you're exact kind of crazy.

When I needed it most, we found friends that listened. And rather than give more empty advice, we all just prayed. I say "just", like its no big deal, but really, nothing (absolutely nothing) could have been more freeing.

When I needed it most, good friends, the life long kind, came to visit. Coming from all corners of the globe to laugh and laugh and laugh (okay and maybe eat). To stay up late, talking about life and laughing more. And getting up and drinking coffee (and eating) and talking and laughing still more until we think we could burst (from the laughing that is....er...)

When I needed it most, all the little things in life, that really aren't so little, came crashing down around us in one beautiful mess. Life has seemed so good, I just can't believe this life is really mine. And all when I needed it most.

"Every good and perfect gives comes from above..." James

lettING go...

You start out knitting for yourself.

From the needles comes a scarf,
a hat
someday a sweater.

From your own hands , and the clacking of metal on metal comes warmth to get you through a thousand winters.

It's independence , self sufficiency.
You can stand alone.

Then you discover it.
The joy of knitting for another.

With skill and time
comes a gift.
Something to ease grief, or welcome one into the world,
Something that celebrates or mourns or both.
Something to soften and warm and brighten,
in those long winter months ahead.

Each stitch, a prayer.
The wool moving through your fingers like beads of the rosary.

Holy and sacred. Giving life and goodness.

You started out alone,

and you needed to. Learning to stand on you're own is all a part of it.

But the next part, is watching something you created, something you labored over, something you touched and admired
move from your hands,
into those of another.

celebratING a simple life

I wasn't going to garden this year.

 "I have too much going on."

But in the busyness of this summer. I needed something.

I needed at least one, small, summer, miracle.

One that gives all summer long, and even gives into early fall,

and with a little sweat and diligence, gives all winter,

through cans of salsa, and sauce.

I wanted something to remind me of the beauty of giving.

How if something has roots, and is cared for,

it will grow, tall and lovely, with leaves and fruit,

in the warm summer sun.

I needed something, just one thing this summer,

to carry me through.

It is no bad thing to celebrate a simple life."
--Bilbo Baggins

skatING in circles by yourself

I will never forget my tenth birthday. I had a skating party. All of my friends came, there was cake, music, presents, everything a ten year old Ali could have wanted. There was just one thing about it though--I was the only one who skated (at least to the best of my memory). By myself, I circled and circled the rink. I requested songs, I had a blast. Knowing my competitive self, I probably timed myself to see if it could get better. Now, I did take the time to spend with my guests thanking them for coming, eating cake, laughing, hanging out etc., but I alone skated, probably wearing some nerdy shirt that had something about NASA or the planets or something like that on it. I had my weird short haircut that made my head look like a mushroom, but I didn't care, I just skated.

When I look back at that memory I have two initial reactions. The first is that I sort of  want to recognize that memory as sad. How did I not realize how "uncool" I was? Were all my friends just pitying me by being there? Oh my gosh, I was such an nerd and didn't even know it. The worst kind! I almost get embarrassed over my ten year old self. No wonder I was  never a "cool kid." It can kind of be a painful moment to look back on.

Then I think about it for a second longer, and I laugh and I'm honestly proud. The thing is, when I look back at that memory, I wasn't embarrassed at all. It didn't occur to me on February 20,  1995 that nobody else skated. It didn't occur to me that I was skating in circles by myself. I just had a blast. The DJ played the music and I just went for it. I skated forward and backward, and did the scissors, and tried to go faster and faster each time around.  I would say I was brave, but to be honest, I don't remember it being something I was afraid to do, I just did it because it was fun and I wanted to.

Now, why am I telling you about my tenth birthday??? Lately, there have been these moments where I've felt like I'm skating in circles by myself. I've had moments where I didn't even know I was alone in what I was doing, and I looked back and realized no one was joining me. This feeling has come up with my job, with some friendships, just everywhere lately. I felt like maybe I was still that 10 year old skating in a circle by myself not going anywhere, looking uncool.

Then I rethought it again. I realized that sometimes in order to really live, you just have to skate in a circle by yourself, because it is fun. The truth is, everyone else usually wishes they could go out there and skate. After all, how is not fun to listen to "Ghostbusters" and feel the air flutter through your mushroom haircut,  as you zoom around on a bright orange floor while the lights from the disco ball swirl around you??? I mean, come on.  Everybody is just too afraid and fear makes us miss out. We sit and we think of a million reasons why we shouldn't be out there. We think about our ability or lack thereof, we think about how dumb we might look or how uncool it is (adults worry about coolness just as much if not more than Jr. higher's I've noticed).

Life sometimes, is trying to rip the hope right from us--through criticism, through painful experiences, through disappointment, but I've realized that that's the fight. The battle is to hold on to hope, simply because its worth it. Sometimes in order to do that it takes skating in a circle by yourself. It even takes grit. Not the kind that makes you calloused, but the kind that can still love even when things feel unlovely. The kind that believes in other people (or even yourself) even when it seems like there is no reason to. It takes laughing and smiling and rejoicing even when no one else seems to care to join you. The hope is that maybe they will join you, maybe they will feel less alone, less afraid, if they just get out there.

Maybe this still seems sad, but I don't think it is. It's freedom. I hope that I can always look back at 10 year old me and have the courage to rejoice and to hope, and to just be me really; I hope that you can be you too.

" Be soft. Do not let the world make you hard. Do not let the pain make you hate. Do not let bitterness steal your sweetness. Take pride that even though the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe it to be a beautiful place." --Unknown

"No child on earth was ever meant to be ordinary, and you can see it in them, and they know it, too, but then the times get to them and they wear out their brains learning what folks expect." --Annie Dillard

makING it through

It has been a long time. A long long time since I have really posted or read anyone elses blog. Life has been busy and difficult for me lately.

There are many many factors contributing to life's difficulties and busyness, and I don't feel like this is the time or place to really go into it, but suffice to say, I've been going through a period of burn out. Burn out on school, and church. I'm burned out on people--some very critical and exhausting people.

However, I will say this, that even this time--this funk, I guess-there is still goodness. For one thing, I have learned that with all of my heart, I believe that encouragement will carry people much farther than criticism..."constructive" or not. I am thankful for this, and hopefully a better person because of it. I hope (hope hope hope) that the next time I am in the position to criticize, that I choose to encourage. I hope I choose to search for goodness.

Also I recently attended a literacy conference required, but still enjoyed, for my undergrad work. It was just what I needed to get me through I think. To keep me going and hoping and trying and dreaming. It reminded me of not just why I want to teach, but it even reminded me of the loveliness in the people I may have the honor to work around and with someday.

I met a lady who did a session on found poetry. Found poetry takes words straight from a text (we used an excerpt from The Tale of Despereaux). You use the authors own words, fragments, etc. and restring them to create a poem. Simple enough, but powerful.

More powerful than the strategy though was the woman who taught the session. She was quiet and passionate and giving. With everything in her, she wanted us to create a poem close to us. She wanted us to share and to learn, and to connect. She created a beautiful almost unexplainable sense of community with the people in that room. We shared and laughed and even cried together.Coming through this time of  being face to face with critical, negative people, this was a chance to regain some confidence in humans in general.

When I wrote my poem, in this rich, warm, environment--a resting place really. It was cathartic. Here it is:

The Dark Things

Somedays the dark things win,

the days that are deep down, and heavy hearted

The dark things are down in our shaded souls, tremendous, cold and vast,

When try as we may, we cannot imagine life any other way.

We cannot pull ourselves from those dungeons deep and spiraled down.

We know what it is to want.

But we know to, that it's not all that we are,

We know in us lies light and loveliness, beauty and bravery,

and that quiet, wild, courage to carry us through

but that all seems worlds away, in some high castle tower.

For somedays, some days, the dark things win.

So thank you, Lisa Patrick, where ever you are. You got me through.

huntING, a wife's perspective

I get the call,

“I got one, a doe.” He says.

“I can’t find her.”



“I’ll be right there.” I answer.



By the time I find him, in golden timeworn wood,

the autumn air around us,

she’s there.



Eyes on the last thing she saw. Frozen in time.

Still warm to touch.

There it hits me.


She’s gone.

She was old. Long lean legs, white tail, aged face.

Who once bounded through woodland wonder,

crossing the creak in one swift leap.

Now silent.



And still.



I wish I knew, I wish I knew,

some ancient, primitive, song,

or native, age old dance.

Some prayer, or ceremony.

Something to mourn and to celebrate,

what she has given to us,

for us.



A life for a life.

It is the archaic way of things.

One must give, for another to have.

balancING act

There  are two types of hiking packs.
One for men, and one for women.

The difference comes in how the weight is carried.


Men hold the weight on their shoulders.

Bearing up under it, lifting it up high,
wide and strong, like Atlas, under the weight of the world.

All shoulders and arms and strong backs, with grunts and heaves of power,
efficiently moving the burden from one place to another,

with such splendid strength.


A women's pack though, fastens across the two hips,

balancing the burden, evening it out, until its almost a part of them.

They carry it steadily, absorbing the weight,
carrying it for miles and miles, step after step, sometimes even forgetting it's
there, or where exactly its going.

They hold it with quiet subconscious groans and sighs, busying their free hands with some other task,
touching the world as they walk, still plodding on.



There are two types of packs,
each designed with some purpose at hand.

givING...a "guest" post repost

The other day, I read this post on a blog (yes, its a fiber and wool blog so to speak...its delightful by the way, you should check it out.) The blog is from a fiber farm, but this post isn't so much regarding fiber as it is giving. I loved what she had to say:

"A couple of weeks ago, I was on the way Washington D.C. for a meeting with Tanis when I pulled into a convenience store for a Diet Pepsi. On the way back to my car, I noticed a homeless man huddled up by the side of the building, trying to make himself as small a target as possible for the bitter cold wind. He was bared-headed and his coat would have been inadequate on a day that was 10 degrees warmer.

After I got back in my warm car, after I turned on my seat heaters and adjusted the heat to full blast, after I took my wool coat off because I was suddenly too hot, I realized how miserable I was spending less than a minute out in that cold and wondered what it must be like to have to live in it.

And then I glanced into my back seat and saw a giant box, over flowing with the lovely Red Scarves we, you and I, made for the Red Scarf Project. I wondered briefly if I should have given him one, if the maker would mind it going to a cold homeless man rather than it’s intended recipient, but by then I had arrived at my destination and I put the idea and the man out of my mind.

He wasn’t out of my mind for long though. I have spend some part of every day since then just sick about the fact that I didn’t think to give him a scarf. I can tell you this without a moments hesitation: if I had seen a dog suffering in the cold they way that man was, I would not have walked away and left it there. I know I wouldn’t have.

I can’t imagine how cold he much have been. I can’t imagine the turns his life took to get him to that parking lot. I can’t imagine the misery. I’ve tried. I just can’t.

There is another box of scarves in my back seat right now. Scarves and hats and a few pair of mis-matched gloves. The next time I see someone who looks cold, I will step out of my toasty car and my comfort zone and offer him or her something to help keep them a little warmer.

And I’m asking you to do the same. Please go through your closets and make a pile of the hats, scarves and gloves no one wears and put them in a bag in your car. If you have the time and the inclination, it would be lovely to include a couple of hand knit scarves and hats as well. It doesn’t need to be fancy- warmth is what we’re aiming for here.

I briefly considered turning this into some kind of giveaway but then I realized that would be silly. You are lovely, kind, amazing people and you won’t need any incentive. Please do this for me."

One of my new years "resolutions" was to be a person marked by generosity. I want to be more giving. Anyone who has ever changed or impacted my life has been a person who gave. I don't just mean money. I mean generosity with time, talents, smiles, anything. I mean this as a change of attitude and lifestyle more than I do just a goal to meet.

It's been funny how much giving has come up...everywhere. On Sunday at church it was talked about, in my economics class my professor somehow brought up that economist have found that people who give (in this case money) are overall happier with their lives and their money.

Like I said, I don't know that I have a specific way this will look, but this idea is one thing I think I'll implement into this resolution and into life. :)