Friday, November 28, 2008
Lessons from Grad School!
I will let the absence of my blogging stand as testimony that grad school is busier than I could have ever anticipated. With days just as packed as they can get, they have flown by quickly and I am almost a fourth of the way done with grad school as I end the semester. So what have I learned from my hectic schedule, instances of changing clothes in my car and falling asleep in my textbooks? I am starting to learn that priorities are the things that dictate our lives. School, work, relationships, are all as important as I make them. It is me who creates my life by the way I chose to spend my time and the amount of effort I put into the things I am doing. I have learned I cant do it all. So for the things that just don't happen, oh well! Doing the readings for my classes is "optional" in my book and cleaning my house quickly dropped to the bottom of my list! Money is something you have to spend, even if you don't have it. Time is the most precious thing in life. Your true friends will stay in touch with you even when you have no time to call them. Family will always be there for you when you need them. Relationships are the greatest gift, they require the greatest amount of work but the possibility to reap the greatest benefits. In short.. do all you can, rely on god, do the best at what you can do, try to not worry about the rest, give love, and be willing to receive help. Goodbye first semester, bring on the lessons of the next.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
A memory worth putting on paper
*** Disclaimer.. sorry for the novel-like length of this post.. I am not so arrogant as to think anyone should actually read it.. It is mainly for me to indulge in telling a story from my past.****
So as I have been reminiscing on my recent adventures and staring at my pictures by Van Gogh on my wall I have followed my train of thought back to the original adventure. Just broken up from a long term relationship, young, wide eyed, and hopeful I took my Dad up on his offer to study abroad. I arrived in the Netherlands the 20th of August 2006. Alone and abroad I remember my first day in Nijmegen, wandering around the city in the rain and standing on street corners turning my map in circles.
Van Gogh always brings most poignantly to my memory, however, not my first day in the Netherlands but my last. The friends I had traveled with and grew to love so well had all left. My building was empty and I was determined to have one last adventure. The Kroller Muller museum, as I found, was a train ride and two bus rides away, miles in the middle of a national forest. Helene Kröller-Müller had seen something she liked in Van Gogh's work, even during his life, and started to collect it. Van Gogh has been my favorite artist since I can remember and seeing paintings like, "The Potato Eaters" and "Cafe terrace at night" was such a tempting prospect that I had to go.
The journey lasted about three hours, one of my most difficult pilgrimages. The museum face is obscure and surrounded by trees. I spent the day walking through the gallery. Sitting and staring at the paintings and revisiting my favorites over and over again. I felt the changes that had taken place in me throughout the five months of my study abroad. I rejoiced in my independence and in the sheer joy I got from being able to spend an entire day beholding works by Van Gogh.
I savored every moment until the museum closed. Walking outside I found the scenery reminiscent of a horror film. There where tall, barren trees disfigured by such thick fog that you could hardly discern their shape. Dark was quickly falling and I hurried to the bus stop. The second bus was one specifically for the museum, miles away from any town it had taken me for 15 minutes through the forest to the museum. I sat at the bus stop and started feeling anxious. The bus was not coming. Walking back to town would be out of the question as it would take hours and there where no taxis in this direction. Having a few minutes left on my pre paid phone I called my mom. While talking to her a man drove up to the bus stop in his car. "The bus isn't coming," he informed me, "I can give you a ride back to the bus stop." I felt there was no choice in the matter. Keeping my mom on the line with her begging me not to do it, I got into the man's car. Maybe it was a stupid decision but that is the beauty of it. All is well that ends well and luckily, I arrived at the main bus stop un-harmed and full of gratitude.
I found my way home eventually and in the monotony of each day here I can take a moment and think of this day of adventure and discovery and live vicariously in my memories.
So as I have been reminiscing on my recent adventures and staring at my pictures by Van Gogh on my wall I have followed my train of thought back to the original adventure. Just broken up from a long term relationship, young, wide eyed, and hopeful I took my Dad up on his offer to study abroad. I arrived in the Netherlands the 20th of August 2006. Alone and abroad I remember my first day in Nijmegen, wandering around the city in the rain and standing on street corners turning my map in circles.
Van Gogh always brings most poignantly to my memory, however, not my first day in the Netherlands but my last. The friends I had traveled with and grew to love so well had all left. My building was empty and I was determined to have one last adventure. The Kroller Muller museum, as I found, was a train ride and two bus rides away, miles in the middle of a national forest. Helene Kröller-Müller had seen something she liked in Van Gogh's work, even during his life, and started to collect it. Van Gogh has been my favorite artist since I can remember and seeing paintings like, "The Potato Eaters" and "Cafe terrace at night" was such a tempting prospect that I had to go.
The journey lasted about three hours, one of my most difficult pilgrimages. The museum face is obscure and surrounded by trees. I spent the day walking through the gallery. Sitting and staring at the paintings and revisiting my favorites over and over again. I felt the changes that had taken place in me throughout the five months of my study abroad. I rejoiced in my independence and in the sheer joy I got from being able to spend an entire day beholding works by Van Gogh.
I savored every moment until the museum closed. Walking outside I found the scenery reminiscent of a horror film. There where tall, barren trees disfigured by such thick fog that you could hardly discern their shape. Dark was quickly falling and I hurried to the bus stop. The second bus was one specifically for the museum, miles away from any town it had taken me for 15 minutes through the forest to the museum. I sat at the bus stop and started feeling anxious. The bus was not coming. Walking back to town would be out of the question as it would take hours and there where no taxis in this direction. Having a few minutes left on my pre paid phone I called my mom. While talking to her a man drove up to the bus stop in his car. "The bus isn't coming," he informed me, "I can give you a ride back to the bus stop." I felt there was no choice in the matter. Keeping my mom on the line with her begging me not to do it, I got into the man's car. Maybe it was a stupid decision but that is the beauty of it. All is well that ends well and luckily, I arrived at the main bus stop un-harmed and full of gratitude.
I found my way home eventually and in the monotony of each day here I can take a moment and think of this day of adventure and discovery and live vicariously in my memories.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
People in general.. are so cool.
I have so many blogs that are coming up inspired by many things. First of all I would have to shout out to B.diddy for giving me so me great ideas, second I would attribute the next few blogs to the short but adventurous vacation I took last weekend.
Brooke (one of my best friends in the whole world) is studying at the University of Maryland for a while this Summer and I considered it a great opportunity to visit her and see Washington D.C. I have this constant nagging need for adventure, to go to a place new and find my way around and discover things outside my everyday realm. It had been too long since I had ventured out of SLC so I got out my plastic and before you know it I was on a plane. Because Brooke is at an intensive orchestra festival which took up most of her time it was up to me to discover D.C solo. I adored it. I want to take time to mention here all the interesting people I met along the way.
1. Plane ride to D.C: sweetheart of a guy in his late twenties. Has a cute 18 month old son. He lives in Long Island and owns a sports therapy company with his wife. He's traveling to Cali to study with an expert on sports therapy and is sad to leave his family. He dreams of visiting Italy.
2. My first band camp friend: A native Spanish guy who is a prodigy at the piano and has studied all over the world. He is going for a few months to visit his family in spain. We talk about the European way of holding silverware as opposed to the American way. I tell him I am jealous that he lives in Spain and studies in California.
3. Walking to the national Cathedral: I pride myself on the fact that I am good at blending in, I don't look like a tourist. While walking the long distance to the national cathedral I meet a woman in her 50's with her husband who asks me for directions. We proceeded to walk to the cathedral together discussing D.C. and their native New York City. She comments that the culture they enjoy in NYC is superior to D.C., which I agree with. We discuss our love of gothic architecture and art and I tell her how I miss it in Salt Lake. She gives me her card and tells me I should come to New York and stay with her and her husband.
4. Lost family: at the bus stop on the way back from the national cathedral. They express to me how lost they are and I help them get on the right bus. I don't have exact change for the bus so they give me a dollar. They tell me they need help finding the metro stop and ask for help. As I get off the bus I have a flock of strollers, kids, and parents following me into the metro. I take them down and tell them which side to get on.. along with wishing them luck.
5. My favorite airport punk rocker: after being delayed and finding out we have to sleep at the JFK airport this 19 year old guy with crazy tight pants and curly black hair makes friends with me. He grew up in a rough hood in San Fran and is now in a band, surfs, and is studying to be an english teacher. One of the most interesting personalities I have ever met. We kill some time during the long night by talking about books, politics, our lives, our beliefs for a good two or three hours. He is super respectful of how I live but does not agree with going through life without experiencing everything at least once. He has lived a hard life, yet he does not drink, and he wants to settle down with lots of kids. He grew up angry at the kids two blocks down from him who had mansions, while he had to grow up in a single parent household in the projects. He plays in three hard punk bands and amazingly seems to have made peace with his past, present, and future life. I know he will change lives of rebellious high schoolers when he is teaching english.
6. Plane to San Diego: (yes thats right... once I finally did get on a plane, I had to go to San Diego, then to salt lake). This woman was a beacon of motherhood and faith to me. She gets on the plane in tears. She then tells me that she is going to visit "her baby" her youngest son who is serving in the Marine Corps in San Diego. She gets emotional as she talks about seeing him and tells me they are going to the zoo, because he always loved that as a kid. We talk about life, about me, school, dating, her family. I try to give her some comfort and reassurance during this obviously emotional plane ride. The books she reads during the five hour flight are a book on prayer and the bible. I wanted to preach the gospel to her but could not seem to find a way or the words. I regret that. She was a beautiful amazing woman who adores her children.
these are only a few of the people I met on my recent travels. it never ceases to amaze me how diverse and wonderful people of this world are. They are all getting through finding ways to make peace with their lives and those around them. All my friends reassured me about the innate goodness of mankind. people are good and I love learning of their experiences.
So next time you are at a bus stop, or on a plane, don't hesitate to get to know the person next to you. He or she has so many qualities and life experiences to share and after all, we are in this together. right?
Brooke (one of my best friends in the whole world) is studying at the University of Maryland for a while this Summer and I considered it a great opportunity to visit her and see Washington D.C. I have this constant nagging need for adventure, to go to a place new and find my way around and discover things outside my everyday realm. It had been too long since I had ventured out of SLC so I got out my plastic and before you know it I was on a plane. Because Brooke is at an intensive orchestra festival which took up most of her time it was up to me to discover D.C solo. I adored it. I want to take time to mention here all the interesting people I met along the way.
1. Plane ride to D.C: sweetheart of a guy in his late twenties. Has a cute 18 month old son. He lives in Long Island and owns a sports therapy company with his wife. He's traveling to Cali to study with an expert on sports therapy and is sad to leave his family. He dreams of visiting Italy.
2. My first band camp friend: A native Spanish guy who is a prodigy at the piano and has studied all over the world. He is going for a few months to visit his family in spain. We talk about the European way of holding silverware as opposed to the American way. I tell him I am jealous that he lives in Spain and studies in California.
3. Walking to the national Cathedral: I pride myself on the fact that I am good at blending in, I don't look like a tourist. While walking the long distance to the national cathedral I meet a woman in her 50's with her husband who asks me for directions. We proceeded to walk to the cathedral together discussing D.C. and their native New York City. She comments that the culture they enjoy in NYC is superior to D.C., which I agree with. We discuss our love of gothic architecture and art and I tell her how I miss it in Salt Lake. She gives me her card and tells me I should come to New York and stay with her and her husband.
4. Lost family: at the bus stop on the way back from the national cathedral. They express to me how lost they are and I help them get on the right bus. I don't have exact change for the bus so they give me a dollar. They tell me they need help finding the metro stop and ask for help. As I get off the bus I have a flock of strollers, kids, and parents following me into the metro. I take them down and tell them which side to get on.. along with wishing them luck.
5. My favorite airport punk rocker: after being delayed and finding out we have to sleep at the JFK airport this 19 year old guy with crazy tight pants and curly black hair makes friends with me. He grew up in a rough hood in San Fran and is now in a band, surfs, and is studying to be an english teacher. One of the most interesting personalities I have ever met. We kill some time during the long night by talking about books, politics, our lives, our beliefs for a good two or three hours. He is super respectful of how I live but does not agree with going through life without experiencing everything at least once. He has lived a hard life, yet he does not drink, and he wants to settle down with lots of kids. He grew up angry at the kids two blocks down from him who had mansions, while he had to grow up in a single parent household in the projects. He plays in three hard punk bands and amazingly seems to have made peace with his past, present, and future life. I know he will change lives of rebellious high schoolers when he is teaching english.
6. Plane to San Diego: (yes thats right... once I finally did get on a plane, I had to go to San Diego, then to salt lake). This woman was a beacon of motherhood and faith to me. She gets on the plane in tears. She then tells me that she is going to visit "her baby" her youngest son who is serving in the Marine Corps in San Diego. She gets emotional as she talks about seeing him and tells me they are going to the zoo, because he always loved that as a kid. We talk about life, about me, school, dating, her family. I try to give her some comfort and reassurance during this obviously emotional plane ride. The books she reads during the five hour flight are a book on prayer and the bible. I wanted to preach the gospel to her but could not seem to find a way or the words. I regret that. She was a beautiful amazing woman who adores her children.
these are only a few of the people I met on my recent travels. it never ceases to amaze me how diverse and wonderful people of this world are. They are all getting through finding ways to make peace with their lives and those around them. All my friends reassured me about the innate goodness of mankind. people are good and I love learning of their experiences.
So next time you are at a bus stop, or on a plane, don't hesitate to get to know the person next to you. He or she has so many qualities and life experiences to share and after all, we are in this together. right?
Monday, June 16, 2008
Confession #1
So I have a confession... I just cried during a movie. Here I am, left pondering upon the question of how such an innocent diversion could have driven me to tears? I figured Moulin Rouge would be a good way to pass the time as I cleaned my disastrous room; yet I soon found myself among piles of laundry staring intently into my computer screen. Was I satisfied at the end of the movie? No. My room was not clean, and here I was with the guilt of having been moved to tears by pictures on a screen. My distress compiled by the idea that, having cried during a movie, I may be more of a hopeless romantic than I had previously thought. Was I moved by the painted story of two souls enraptured by love? Or could it have been the transformation of a life, meaninglessly bought and paid for, to something valued, and therefore beautiful?
So despite the clever medley's and the capturing story line, I would have to say I am more amused by Pride and Prejudice where the most horrifying thing that could happen would be for Kitty to run away with Mr. Wickam. I do not like escaping from real life into a movie only to find myself face to face with it. If I wanted to face the sadness and despair that life inevitably brings I would be out there living it, not spending my time hoping that Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennett move into an English Castle together. If I wanted to think about life's many complex issues or delve into the depths of my soul and solve my cognitive dissonances about the world I would sit on a mountain top or in a church. And I am convinced that the ideas brought to my mind during that time would not be sparked by a multi media commentary, but by life experience and religion.
So.. in the end.. I guess this blog is simply a mechanism for stating the fact that I just wasted two hours... and I cried.
So despite the clever medley's and the capturing story line, I would have to say I am more amused by Pride and Prejudice where the most horrifying thing that could happen would be for Kitty to run away with Mr. Wickam. I do not like escaping from real life into a movie only to find myself face to face with it. If I wanted to face the sadness and despair that life inevitably brings I would be out there living it, not spending my time hoping that Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennett move into an English Castle together. If I wanted to think about life's many complex issues or delve into the depths of my soul and solve my cognitive dissonances about the world I would sit on a mountain top or in a church. And I am convinced that the ideas brought to my mind during that time would not be sparked by a multi media commentary, but by life experience and religion.
So.. in the end.. I guess this blog is simply a mechanism for stating the fact that I just wasted two hours... and I cried.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
the medicinal properties of chocolate
chocolate.. it's a pretty simple thing. It could be explained as some densely packed calories wrapped in silver packaging or as a simple mixture of sugar and coco. But I believe there is something more to chocolate. In it lies a magical force that causes me to rummage through the house late at night, emptying my cupboards in search of a stray candy bar. Could it be the whimsical prospect of doing something completely unhealthy and unnecessary? Or the simple joy of leaving prudence, reason, and calorie counting behind with the tossing of the wrapper in the trash can? How is it that throwing caution to the wind and savoring the sweet taste of chocolate can heal a broken heart, make up for a rainy day, or relax an overworked mind? There are those who would argue chocolate will only expand your waistline and dampen your spirits. However, Because of the evidence clearly shown in chocolate's favor, I would recommend it be taken at least once a day as a medicine for the soul. To myself of course.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Things that make the work week worth it
I would not venture to complain about how much I work. I know many who work longer hours than I, and some who work less. Somehow, despite this, my work week can seem to me painfully long. The monotony of getting up every morning and doing the same thing, knowing I will have to exert a certain amount of energy to get through the day is somedays a looming dismal prospect. Someone once told me that it is the small things in life that make it all worth it. Here are a few small things I feel have made my work week worth the effort.
1. Sitting outside Great Harvest eating a Kiva juice and some bread with my sis. There is something beautiful in the simplicity of sitting in the nice weather and talking about life to one of my best friends in the world. Away from all the chaos afforded in other areas of my life I enjoyed conversation with someone who understands me very well.
2. Singing baby Mason to sleep. I can't begin to express how innocent, beautiful, and perfect my seven week old nephew is. I am thankful my sis would let me break his strict "baby wise" schedule and rock him to sleep. I can see how at times motherhood becomes, all in a moment, worth it.
3. Laying out by the pool with a good book. I will admit it takes a certain amount of time to push all the thoughts out of my head and just relax. There is something to be said, however, for this state if it is accomplished. It is like a cleansing for my tired brain and it's incessant stream of thought. I can sit on my pool chair, and for one moment, be content with everything in the world.
So as I look back on the long week I have had, and the long week ahead, I will try to kindly remind myself to savor those tiny moments of joy, even when I am getting up at six in the morning.
Friday, May 30, 2008
observation #1
It is 11:45 AM. Nap time. Some days the easiest part of my job, some days the most challenging. We get out the nap mats and blankets and turn on some soothing music. We all lay down. "But I don't want to take a nap!" One of our preschoolers insists. He is already exceptionally good at talking his way out of things. "You need to take a nap right now," I explain, "All the other kids are going to sleep." This conversation lasted for ten minutes. Finally I resort to the timeout threat, "If you don't lay down on your mat we need to go to timeout. " He complies and lays down, eyes wide open. He fidgets, looks around rolls over time and time again, and all of a sudden it hits me. There is nothing in the world I can do to make him go to sleep. I could threaten him, rub his head, tell him it was best for him, but going to sleep is something you have to decide to do for yourself.
Agency is both our best friend and our worst enemy. We are allowed to chose what we do, regardless of all other opinions. Even if something is logical, or best for us in the eyes of others, we have the gift of being able to make that choice. It made me think about God, knowing what is best for us, trying his best with threats and persuasion to make us do things that he knows will make us happy. The frustration he must feel at us not allowing ourselves to just relax and do his will or trust him enough to close our eyes. We spend so much time "fighting sleep"
Consequently our little guy was a bit tired and onory for the rest of the day. Even still, some days I can't get him to sleep. He has to chose it.
Agency is both our best friend and our worst enemy. We are allowed to chose what we do, regardless of all other opinions. Even if something is logical, or best for us in the eyes of others, we have the gift of being able to make that choice. It made me think about God, knowing what is best for us, trying his best with threats and persuasion to make us do things that he knows will make us happy. The frustration he must feel at us not allowing ourselves to just relax and do his will or trust him enough to close our eyes. We spend so much time "fighting sleep"
Consequently our little guy was a bit tired and onory for the rest of the day. Even still, some days I can't get him to sleep. He has to chose it.
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