I am finding it hard to fabricate my to do list today. I know there are a ton of things to do...I've been thinking about them all week. However, after being extremely task oriented at work the past few days I am finding it hard to get motivated when I don't have to worry about someone's ABC's (airway, breathing and circulation).
I am also procrastinating. The backyard needs raking and unfortunately a temperature of 34 degrees fahrenheit is no motivation for me to get outside. I realize that in March I will be extremely grateful for this type of weather, but right now...no thank you. I even cheated this morning and turned up the thermostat. Don't tell Nick. The dog on the other hand refuses to come inside. She absolutely loves this weather. If only there was a way to attach a rake to her as she forages the yard, then I'd have it made.
Alas, here I am, sitting in front of my computer ready to blog.
I don't think there is any other profession that can remind a person so consistently about the fragility and unknowns of life than that of the healthcare profession. In the ICU where I am employed we work primarily with individuals who have suffered from various types of strokes and brain aneurysm ruptures. These events occur with very little warning and can create significant life changes for all those involved. I used to think, mistakenly, that these events were reserved for the elderly. Unfortunately, I have seen some very young people affected. In fact, the majority of our patient population is in their mid-40s to 60s.
I often struggle with the stark reality of how quickly a caretaker becomes the cared for. In fact, this week I was assigned to a man who had suffered a stroke that resulted in massive brain swelling. In order to control the swelling, he underwent emergency surgery and was placed in a medically induced coma. His prognosis is unknown until the swelling retreats and we are able to see what the underlying damage is. Yesterday, I listened to his wife as she described to me her battle with MS. She had always known that someday she would need to be cared for, but never imagined that her husband would find himself in a position that would threaten his ability to do so.
There are obviously many complexities to this job, but one of the hardest is the lack of predictability. Sometimes patients arrive in the worst shape possible, and they end up eventually returning to their previous lives. Others come in, face numerous complications and are never able to reach a full recovery. I often find myself reminding patients and family members that we need to work with the challenges we have right now and then our next steps will depend on their response to the current crisis.
I think one of the greatest lessons I am learning in the ICU is that the only predictable thing about life is that it is unpredictable. My mom was constantly reminding me as a child to "never say never." She used to tell me that God finds opportunity in that statement and makes the unthinkable possible. As a child you grow up thinking and dreaming about what your life will be like when you are older. It may change from time to time but rarely do you imagine several dreams for yourself simultaneously. Suddenly, as an adult you begin to realize that life comes with a plethora of options. You start to see that the journey isn't as concrete as you once thought.
As I have mentioned multiple times in these blogs the year ahead is anything but concrete for Nick and I. I have a sneaking suspicion that next year I will look back and think about all the things that happened that I never expected to happen. I am also certain that the addition of another person to our family will only increase the possibilities.
I can, however, take comfort in knowing that a few constants will remain intact. I take solace in knowing that the love and support of my family has been unwavering for 27 years now, and I don't anticipate that changing. I know that despite challenges Nick and I have continued to grow as a couple. We have navigated many changes over the past nine years of our relationship, both individually and together, and eventually end up stronger. Finally, I know that through the various growth opportunities of life I have always been filled with a sense of calm and peace in knowing that things will work out. After all, I believe it has been said that faith the size of a mustard seed can move mountains.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Sunday, October 10, 2010
The Power of a Good Pair of Jeans
I was a woman on a mission. Desperate times were calling for desperate measures, and I had my eyes set on one thing and one thing only. The goal was to find a pair of maternity jeans; the challenge was to find a pair of maternity jeans that didn't feel or look like what they were.
I've gone through a pretty major "growth spurt" in the last few weeks, and this weekend I finally came to the realization that there was no more adapting my old jeans to fit my growing bump. I had been using all the tricks including the bella band and expanding the waist line using a hair binder. However, when my zipper popped open for the umpteenth time this week, I just couldn't take it anymore. There was a ceremonial tossing of the jeans across the room with an exclamation of frustration that Nick would not be able to ignore. It was official, the jeans had to be retired.
I was all business as we headed out to the store. There was no stopping me. I was going to beat the bump, no matter the cost. Nick came along and was able to provide enough comic relief to ease my wild and desperate aspirations. I was on a timeline as we had only come into town from a weekend up North late in the afternoon and had plans for the evening with some friends. Since maternity shops are limited in Roseville, I had few options. However, after trying on only four pairs there was a clear winner and I left the store feeling like I had renewed hope for the future of this pregnancy. Actually the process was quite anticlimactic considering the anxious anticipation I'd had over the outing.
I can honestly, and sheepishly, admit that my lack of adequately fitting pants had indeed affected my mood this weekend. I had started to dread getting dressed. Very few of my clothes fit anymore, and I just wasn't used to that feeling. My body really has changed very little since high school and so dressing for two has been quite the mental shift.
Don't get me wrong, I love the bump. I am excited about the baby and full of pride at my growing belly. I was elated when we had our check up last Thursday and I measured out at 21 cm, right on target for where I should be. In fact I was pleased as punch to find out that our ultra sound estimated us to be at 21 weeks as well. I am incredibly thankful and relieved to know that all is on target and progressing as it should. It is just a very foreign feeling to be gaining weight and curves in such a dramatic way.
I have always been criticized by my loving family of my tendency toward exaggeration and drama, and I know this post only capitalizes on it. I am fully aware and willing to admit this and appreciate the gentle reminders of my family to adjust my perspective. However, I can't convey the relief I had this morning when I only had to try on one outfit. I didn't dread going through my closet to find a shirt because I knew I wasn't going to have to wear a thousand layers to cover up the unbuttoned and halfway zipped jeans.
I can't describe how excited I was to put on my jeans today. I do have to take a deep breath when I pull the elastic band up and over my waist, but all I can do is smile once the shirt goes on and I find that I can sit and bend without popping a zipper or pinching my stomach. I finally felt today like I had regained control of some of these crazy changes. And today, instead of resenting the bump, I embraced it. For that, maternity jeans I salute you and look forward to several more months of continued growth.
I've gone through a pretty major "growth spurt" in the last few weeks, and this weekend I finally came to the realization that there was no more adapting my old jeans to fit my growing bump. I had been using all the tricks including the bella band and expanding the waist line using a hair binder. However, when my zipper popped open for the umpteenth time this week, I just couldn't take it anymore. There was a ceremonial tossing of the jeans across the room with an exclamation of frustration that Nick would not be able to ignore. It was official, the jeans had to be retired.
I was all business as we headed out to the store. There was no stopping me. I was going to beat the bump, no matter the cost. Nick came along and was able to provide enough comic relief to ease my wild and desperate aspirations. I was on a timeline as we had only come into town from a weekend up North late in the afternoon and had plans for the evening with some friends. Since maternity shops are limited in Roseville, I had few options. However, after trying on only four pairs there was a clear winner and I left the store feeling like I had renewed hope for the future of this pregnancy. Actually the process was quite anticlimactic considering the anxious anticipation I'd had over the outing.
I can honestly, and sheepishly, admit that my lack of adequately fitting pants had indeed affected my mood this weekend. I had started to dread getting dressed. Very few of my clothes fit anymore, and I just wasn't used to that feeling. My body really has changed very little since high school and so dressing for two has been quite the mental shift.
Don't get me wrong, I love the bump. I am excited about the baby and full of pride at my growing belly. I was elated when we had our check up last Thursday and I measured out at 21 cm, right on target for where I should be. In fact I was pleased as punch to find out that our ultra sound estimated us to be at 21 weeks as well. I am incredibly thankful and relieved to know that all is on target and progressing as it should. It is just a very foreign feeling to be gaining weight and curves in such a dramatic way.
I have always been criticized by my loving family of my tendency toward exaggeration and drama, and I know this post only capitalizes on it. I am fully aware and willing to admit this and appreciate the gentle reminders of my family to adjust my perspective. However, I can't convey the relief I had this morning when I only had to try on one outfit. I didn't dread going through my closet to find a shirt because I knew I wasn't going to have to wear a thousand layers to cover up the unbuttoned and halfway zipped jeans.
I can't describe how excited I was to put on my jeans today. I do have to take a deep breath when I pull the elastic band up and over my waist, but all I can do is smile once the shirt goes on and I find that I can sit and bend without popping a zipper or pinching my stomach. I finally felt today like I had regained control of some of these crazy changes. And today, instead of resenting the bump, I embraced it. For that, maternity jeans I salute you and look forward to several more months of continued growth.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
First kick...
In this grand adventure of pregnancy, there are times in which I feel like it is a very one sided process. Obviously, it takes two to get to this point. However, for the most part I have sole responsibility of the baby baking process. I am the one watching what I eat, and giving up some of my favorite treats. I am the one who has given up the occasional glass of wine or beer that seems so deserved at the end of a long day or during the football game. I mean, can anyone watch the Vikings these days without a little alcohol on board?! I am also the one who gets to experiencing the morphing of my body as I lose complete control of it to this baby.
On the flip side, I also get the instantaneous and daily connection to this baby. With every change, comes another reminder of the process that is taking place. Ever since I found out I was pregnant I've felt a great responsibility and sense of pride for this little one growing inside me. I have delighted in the changes in my body knowing they carry with them one of our greatest blessings. And when I started feeling flutters at 17 weeks, it was only I who could experience them. Recently, I have been increasingly anxious to begin feeling the kicks outside my body, so that Nick could experience them too.
Aside from hearing the heartbeat at our doctor's visit, very little of this pregnancy process has been experienced by Nick. Most of what happens is reported to him after the fact. However, just two nights ago, we were sitting on the couch and Nick reached over to pat my stomach. Suddenly, his fingers jumped off my abdomen and he cried out excitedly that he had felt our baby kick. Now, I've been waiting for this to happen as I've become increasingly aware of the baby's movements and kicks, but still hadn't felt it with my hand on my stomach. It was so exciting to me that Nick was able to experience a "first" for the pregnancy.
There truly is nothing like it. With each kick, both inside and out, I am falling more in love with this child of ours. I am also incredibly thankful that Nick was able to palpate the first official outside kick. It was fun to have him report a pregnancy experience to me, instead of vice versa! Making sure he feels included in this process is incredibly important to me and the smile on his face was priceless. Now I can hardly wait to see the way he beams when he first holds our child in February!
On the flip side, I also get the instantaneous and daily connection to this baby. With every change, comes another reminder of the process that is taking place. Ever since I found out I was pregnant I've felt a great responsibility and sense of pride for this little one growing inside me. I have delighted in the changes in my body knowing they carry with them one of our greatest blessings. And when I started feeling flutters at 17 weeks, it was only I who could experience them. Recently, I have been increasingly anxious to begin feeling the kicks outside my body, so that Nick could experience them too.
Aside from hearing the heartbeat at our doctor's visit, very little of this pregnancy process has been experienced by Nick. Most of what happens is reported to him after the fact. However, just two nights ago, we were sitting on the couch and Nick reached over to pat my stomach. Suddenly, his fingers jumped off my abdomen and he cried out excitedly that he had felt our baby kick. Now, I've been waiting for this to happen as I've become increasingly aware of the baby's movements and kicks, but still hadn't felt it with my hand on my stomach. It was so exciting to me that Nick was able to experience a "first" for the pregnancy.
There truly is nothing like it. With each kick, both inside and out, I am falling more in love with this child of ours. I am also incredibly thankful that Nick was able to palpate the first official outside kick. It was fun to have him report a pregnancy experience to me, instead of vice versa! Making sure he feels included in this process is incredibly important to me and the smile on his face was priceless. Now I can hardly wait to see the way he beams when he first holds our child in February!
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Patience is a virtue. Impatience is not.
I am dubbing this week my reset week. An opportunity to catch my breath, get a little work done and regain perspective. Last week was exhausting. I spent a lot of time in a state of constant thought overload. I felt for every one thought, ten or more new ones would spring up. I had to-do lists a mile and a half long, and no time to get anything done. I also allowed myself to get caught up in the worries of next year's uncertainties.
First, I had thought overactivity on house projects and home improvements. Home owning is a tremendous blessing, with many joys. One of the joys is putting work into making it better. Nick and I don't stop dreaming of the next project. However, sometimes I just want to do everything at once. Last week, I was convinced that the windows needed an overhaul, the water heater needed to be replaced and the basement needed to be refinished...all at once.
This of course led me into thoughts of the practicality of home improvement projects. Simply put, we have no idea right now if we will be moving next spring. One of the many wonders of medical school is its constant reminder that there is little about it we can control. The last few years have taught me that we are constantly at the mercy of the clinical schedule, and aside from choosing which clinical to do when, there is little control over much else. Residency will be the same, if not less flexible. However, with residency we get the added bonus of not really knowing where it will take place until next March. Sure, Nick gets to rank his top choices and only apply to certain programs, but in the end he'll get a letter telling him what program he'll be attending. Given that there are only two emergency medicine programs in the immediate area, there is a chance we will move. For obvious reasons, I vacillate between being okay with that idea and being absolutely terrified of it. Last week, terrified pretty much summed up my feelings.
On top of that I couldn't shake the thought that I would like to go back to school. I've wanted to get my masters for several years now, and have the program picked out. Money and time have prevented me from doing so thus far. They remain the obstacles, but with Nick finishing up school, I feel like it is becoming more plausible to consider graduate school again. I feel I've been patient thus far, but last week I was anything but patient.
Finally, I probably shouldn't forget to mention that intertwined amongst all these thoughts was of course the ever growing baby due to make its arrival in February. Which creates its own list of to-do's, worries and eager anticipation. Not to mention an additional person to factor into all the changes of the coming year.
Needless to say, last week I was overwhelmed.
I decided that this week I needed to focus on the feasible and try not to worry about the things I can't control. I have had this week off from work and have been tackling the realistic projects on my to do list. Nick and I have devised a plan for the home improvements that make sense for our home, whether we are still living here next fall or not. Thoughts of school are once again on hold, and I am okay with that. I am also thankful for the gentle patience of my husband. Last week he had to endure many of my thought storms, most of which tapped into his own worries and stresses.
Monday I was greeted by rain. I woke up thinking of Martin Luther, who states that each new day is a baptism, a renewal. I chose to live it out, and set a new tone for this week. I feel a sense of peace knowing that working away at my immediate to-do list, will make tomorrow's to-do list a lot easier to accomplish. I just need to keep in mind that what seems huge and unknown for now, will in time work it's way out. Deep breaths and patience, are my daily goals. I think it was my ninth grade diving coach who reminded us of this quote at the beginning of the season, "Remember grasshoppers, the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step."
First, I had thought overactivity on house projects and home improvements. Home owning is a tremendous blessing, with many joys. One of the joys is putting work into making it better. Nick and I don't stop dreaming of the next project. However, sometimes I just want to do everything at once. Last week, I was convinced that the windows needed an overhaul, the water heater needed to be replaced and the basement needed to be refinished...all at once.
This of course led me into thoughts of the practicality of home improvement projects. Simply put, we have no idea right now if we will be moving next spring. One of the many wonders of medical school is its constant reminder that there is little about it we can control. The last few years have taught me that we are constantly at the mercy of the clinical schedule, and aside from choosing which clinical to do when, there is little control over much else. Residency will be the same, if not less flexible. However, with residency we get the added bonus of not really knowing where it will take place until next March. Sure, Nick gets to rank his top choices and only apply to certain programs, but in the end he'll get a letter telling him what program he'll be attending. Given that there are only two emergency medicine programs in the immediate area, there is a chance we will move. For obvious reasons, I vacillate between being okay with that idea and being absolutely terrified of it. Last week, terrified pretty much summed up my feelings.
On top of that I couldn't shake the thought that I would like to go back to school. I've wanted to get my masters for several years now, and have the program picked out. Money and time have prevented me from doing so thus far. They remain the obstacles, but with Nick finishing up school, I feel like it is becoming more plausible to consider graduate school again. I feel I've been patient thus far, but last week I was anything but patient.
Finally, I probably shouldn't forget to mention that intertwined amongst all these thoughts was of course the ever growing baby due to make its arrival in February. Which creates its own list of to-do's, worries and eager anticipation. Not to mention an additional person to factor into all the changes of the coming year.
Needless to say, last week I was overwhelmed.
I decided that this week I needed to focus on the feasible and try not to worry about the things I can't control. I have had this week off from work and have been tackling the realistic projects on my to do list. Nick and I have devised a plan for the home improvements that make sense for our home, whether we are still living here next fall or not. Thoughts of school are once again on hold, and I am okay with that. I am also thankful for the gentle patience of my husband. Last week he had to endure many of my thought storms, most of which tapped into his own worries and stresses.
Monday I was greeted by rain. I woke up thinking of Martin Luther, who states that each new day is a baptism, a renewal. I chose to live it out, and set a new tone for this week. I feel a sense of peace knowing that working away at my immediate to-do list, will make tomorrow's to-do list a lot easier to accomplish. I just need to keep in mind that what seems huge and unknown for now, will in time work it's way out. Deep breaths and patience, are my daily goals. I think it was my ninth grade diving coach who reminded us of this quote at the beginning of the season, "Remember grasshoppers, the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step."
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Puppy parenting...analogies for the real thing
Today was a great day. The evidence lies in the sight of our completely exhausted puppy, who is passed out in the middle of the living room. This afternoon we took Sadie to a nearby state park. It was an outing we've secretly been promising her for months, but Nick and I never had coinciding weekends off.
The day started out with a dog who felt very sorry for herself. Perhaps it will be strange for people who have never experienced the many emotions of a pet to imagine, but Sadie moped for the better half of the morning. She woke up and immediately ran to the front window. There she stood for several minutes, wagging her tail and then turning to look at Nick. She was hinting for him to take her out on a walk. Then she decided she might have more luck getting us to play in the backyard. When we let her out she just waited for us on the back porch. The minute we stepped foot outside, she darted off the steps grabbed a stick and brought it back hoping for a rousing game of fetch or tug.
You see, yesterday was a day filled with house projects and yard work. Sadie didn't get her usual walk, and had to resort to the solace of the drowsy side effects of her allergy medicine. We didn't feel too guilty because we knew she was in for a grand adventure today. However, it is impossible to explain this to a dog. This morning we just watched her and laughed because we knew what the day had in store for her.
When the time finally arrived for our grand adventure to begin she was more than ready to jump into the car. After a quick jaunt to Northfield, and a comical run-in with a random parade, we finally arrived at Nerstrand State Park. Sadie was elated and we couldn't get out of the car and on the trail fast enough.
We finally got far enough along the trail that we felt comfortable letting her off leash (technically a no-no in State Parks) and that's when the true colors of our happy pup shone through. If you haven't met Sadie she is an incredibly energetic and enthusiastic canine. She loves to sniff, chase, run and generally be outside in the vicinity of her "pack members" (a.k.a. Nick and I). She is a shepherd mix, and has this awesome gazelle leap that is very characteristic of German Shepherds. She tore circles around us. Sniffing out squirrels, finding the streams and puddles, leaping through bushes and over sticks, and then quickly returning to reassure her "pack" that all was well.
Her less than stellar moment came somewhere along the path when she decided to roll in poop. A surprise we discovered when the leash went back on. It resulted in an unplanned bath in the river, an attempt to avoid a malodorous drive home.
I know I am not a parent yet and dogs are much different than children, but dog ownership has often given me a glimpse into the adventures of parenting. Today, I couldn't help but see the analogies between dog ownership and parenting. This morning, with the dog feeling so sorry for herself, Nick and I chuckled about the times in our upcoming parenting lives when our kids will be convinced that nothing exciting will ever happen to them. Sadie's impatience in the parking lot was just a snapshot into the warped understanding of time of that of a toddler, and the times to come when we just won't be able to move fast enough. Even more, I was able to imagine the combination of fear and pride as our children spread their wings and begin their own exploration in the woods of life. I also laughed at the thought of having to drag our kids out of whatever piles of dirt or poop they find themselves in (both literally and figuratively). I guess even the best laid plans still leave room for surprises!
The day started out with a dog who felt very sorry for herself. Perhaps it will be strange for people who have never experienced the many emotions of a pet to imagine, but Sadie moped for the better half of the morning. She woke up and immediately ran to the front window. There she stood for several minutes, wagging her tail and then turning to look at Nick. She was hinting for him to take her out on a walk. Then she decided she might have more luck getting us to play in the backyard. When we let her out she just waited for us on the back porch. The minute we stepped foot outside, she darted off the steps grabbed a stick and brought it back hoping for a rousing game of fetch or tug.
You see, yesterday was a day filled with house projects and yard work. Sadie didn't get her usual walk, and had to resort to the solace of the drowsy side effects of her allergy medicine. We didn't feel too guilty because we knew she was in for a grand adventure today. However, it is impossible to explain this to a dog. This morning we just watched her and laughed because we knew what the day had in store for her.
When the time finally arrived for our grand adventure to begin she was more than ready to jump into the car. After a quick jaunt to Northfield, and a comical run-in with a random parade, we finally arrived at Nerstrand State Park. Sadie was elated and we couldn't get out of the car and on the trail fast enough.
We finally got far enough along the trail that we felt comfortable letting her off leash (technically a no-no in State Parks) and that's when the true colors of our happy pup shone through. If you haven't met Sadie she is an incredibly energetic and enthusiastic canine. She loves to sniff, chase, run and generally be outside in the vicinity of her "pack members" (a.k.a. Nick and I). She is a shepherd mix, and has this awesome gazelle leap that is very characteristic of German Shepherds. She tore circles around us. Sniffing out squirrels, finding the streams and puddles, leaping through bushes and over sticks, and then quickly returning to reassure her "pack" that all was well.
Her less than stellar moment came somewhere along the path when she decided to roll in poop. A surprise we discovered when the leash went back on. It resulted in an unplanned bath in the river, an attempt to avoid a malodorous drive home.
I know I am not a parent yet and dogs are much different than children, but dog ownership has often given me a glimpse into the adventures of parenting. Today, I couldn't help but see the analogies between dog ownership and parenting. This morning, with the dog feeling so sorry for herself, Nick and I chuckled about the times in our upcoming parenting lives when our kids will be convinced that nothing exciting will ever happen to them. Sadie's impatience in the parking lot was just a snapshot into the warped understanding of time of that of a toddler, and the times to come when we just won't be able to move fast enough. Even more, I was able to imagine the combination of fear and pride as our children spread their wings and begin their own exploration in the woods of life. I also laughed at the thought of having to drag our kids out of whatever piles of dirt or poop they find themselves in (both literally and figuratively). I guess even the best laid plans still leave room for surprises!
Friday, September 10, 2010
Rain Reminders
I really do not plan on blogging too much about current events, politics or even religion, but all I've been able to think about this week has been the Quran burning news story out of Florida. I have been very troubled by this story. I find it unbelievable that in a country that prides itself on freedom of speech, thought and religion some people still manage to hole themselves into remarkably small world views. Often times these ideas limit and restrict the freedom of others around them.
Bias is everywhere. I am not going to deny that. We all have our own views and perspectives of right and wrong and our world is a very complicated place because of that. However, there are ways in which we can live out, express our beliefs and follow our truths that don't actually inhibit, restrict or misconstrue the beliefs of others. This world does not need to be any more complicated than it already is.
The horrors of September 11th were lasting and devastating. It was awful to watch as the day unfolded. It was equally hard to learn the acts of a very small group of people could inflict so much pain and devastation in such a short time span. The consequences of that fateful day are still surfacing. However, it wasn't carried out because of the teachings of Islam. It was also not an act that every Muslim in the world condoned. To make the generalization that all of Islam preaches terrorism is absolutely untrue. It was in fact similar generalizations of America and Americans that lead to that fateful day in 2001.
Sometimes I wish we had all listened better in grade school when our teachers reminded us of how valuable it was to listen to each other and know the whole story before we chose our actions and words. I was taught once that we should "treat others as they would want to be treated." It was an interesting twist that reminded me that people come from their own perspective and place, and to interact effectively I must understand that.
We had the windows open tonight as we sat down for dinner. It was peaceful to hear the rain fall outside. As I sat there, with the candles glowing because I am my mother's daughter, I was reminded of a proverb I came across a long time ago. It's a Malagasy proverb and it says, "Let your love fall like the misty rain, coming softly but flooding the river." As I sat there immersed in thought, I was comforted by the knowledge that love has no end, no boundaries. Hatred has limits. There will always be horrible atrocities carried out throughout this world, but these acts are limiting and only set up new road blocks. Love does not. Love opens us up to new opportunities for acceptance and understanding.
I don't have any fantastical ideas of global acceptance. However, tonight I am comforted in knowing that while some people will never see beyond their own views, many people already do. And that small realization was enough to remind me that there is hope. An opportunity where perhaps a few more people will broaden their understanding, and then a few more will follow. Then, like a flooding river, we can start seeing the similarities in one another and not the differences.
Bias is everywhere. I am not going to deny that. We all have our own views and perspectives of right and wrong and our world is a very complicated place because of that. However, there are ways in which we can live out, express our beliefs and follow our truths that don't actually inhibit, restrict or misconstrue the beliefs of others. This world does not need to be any more complicated than it already is.
The horrors of September 11th were lasting and devastating. It was awful to watch as the day unfolded. It was equally hard to learn the acts of a very small group of people could inflict so much pain and devastation in such a short time span. The consequences of that fateful day are still surfacing. However, it wasn't carried out because of the teachings of Islam. It was also not an act that every Muslim in the world condoned. To make the generalization that all of Islam preaches terrorism is absolutely untrue. It was in fact similar generalizations of America and Americans that lead to that fateful day in 2001.
Sometimes I wish we had all listened better in grade school when our teachers reminded us of how valuable it was to listen to each other and know the whole story before we chose our actions and words. I was taught once that we should "treat others as they would want to be treated." It was an interesting twist that reminded me that people come from their own perspective and place, and to interact effectively I must understand that.
We had the windows open tonight as we sat down for dinner. It was peaceful to hear the rain fall outside. As I sat there, with the candles glowing because I am my mother's daughter, I was reminded of a proverb I came across a long time ago. It's a Malagasy proverb and it says, "Let your love fall like the misty rain, coming softly but flooding the river." As I sat there immersed in thought, I was comforted by the knowledge that love has no end, no boundaries. Hatred has limits. There will always be horrible atrocities carried out throughout this world, but these acts are limiting and only set up new road blocks. Love does not. Love opens us up to new opportunities for acceptance and understanding.
I don't have any fantastical ideas of global acceptance. However, tonight I am comforted in knowing that while some people will never see beyond their own views, many people already do. And that small realization was enough to remind me that there is hope. An opportunity where perhaps a few more people will broaden their understanding, and then a few more will follow. Then, like a flooding river, we can start seeing the similarities in one another and not the differences.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
A New Venture
Maybe it is the change in weather and the fact that much of my family is heading back to school. It could be the fact that for several years I've been eager to head back to school myself, I just haven't been able to figure out how to find the time or money.
Mostly it is stemming from the fact that I am eagerly anticipating major changes in the coming year. With Nick finishing up course work for medical school in December, the arrival of "itty bitty" in February, and residency decisions happening in March...life as I know it now is going to change drastically and rapidly over the next year. I am finding that there is much to my life that needs to be processed and so begins my blog.
I don't have any fantastic ideas of where this blog will take me, but I am hopeful that it is something I can maintain for at least a little while. I would never admit to being an English buff or a grammar whiz, but I have always enjoyed writing. There is something about sitting down with your thoughts and letting your ideas come together that I've always found addicting and cathartic.
I anticipate that a great deal of my writing will be centered on processing my life experiences, hence the title of the blog. The title is actually a twist on a song by one of my favorite musicians, Mason Jennings. Nick and I have often listened to Mason's song titled "Be Here Now" and marveled at the simple power of the song's message.
We have actually deemed it our theme song for our marriage as it reminds us to slow down and take things a day at a time. The song emphasizes the importance of just being in the moment. Often I find myself thinking "if I could just get to next week" or "maybe in three years we could..." and then I have to stop and remind myself about the now and enjoy the day to day routine. It is after all the humdrum of normal everyday living that gets me to next week or three years from now, and those hopes and dreams for the future just wouldn't happen if I didn't live in this moment right now.
As I contemplated a title for this blog I really wanted to have a title that gave me some focus and represented this period of time in my life. I found that this actually captured it pretty well. Lately, I've been overwhelmed with a feeling of being on the cusp of change and yet my daily routine hasn't changed significantly. I've felt as though I want time both to simultaneously speed up and slow down all at once.
This was all spurred on in June when Nick and I found out I was pregnant. I wouldn't necessarily call it a surprise, but I think it all happened much more quickly than either of us had anticipated. Since finding out we've had the normal roller coaster of emotions, we're completely elated and then we throw in moments of impatience or fear. Couple that with the eager and nervous anticipation of welcoming a new member into our family, and we pretty much swing through all varieties of emotions on any given day.
It is a bit like that summer before your first year of college when you get the name of your first roommate. There is that period of excitement when it finally starts to feel real that you will be heading off to college. You know that things are going to be different, but you're not really sure how. The name of your roommate and those first few phone calls or emails remind you that this change is approaching. There is excitement as you learn that you have a few things in common, then there are the unknowns of how it will go to live with a stranger and what happens if you don't get a long. And of course there is that period of waiting, you start pulling together the items you'll need to make college feel like home and you buy a few new school supplies. You listen as all the people who have been through it before tell you how great it is going to be. Then they scare you with horror stories of their first roommate. Somedays you wish your could just be a senior in high school forever and then other days you couldn't be more ready to move onward and upward. In the meantime, all you can do is wait and imagine what it will be like in August or September when move in day FINALLY arrives.
I feel that way most days now. I am anticipating and starting to prepare for our little arrival. I hear stories of how amazing becoming a parent is, and then I hear about the fatigue and the complete takeover that this new family member will have on my life. I worry about leaving behind the freedom of childlessness, and then simultaneously I can hardly wait to experience the world with our child in it. In the meantime all I can do is live in the comfortable, quiet little world that Nick and I have created for ourselves over the past two years. Planning the nursery, picking out names and dreaming of who our child is becoming slowly starts to make everything feel more real, but I still have to wait.
Hence, being here now has really been my theme this summer. Mason writes it best when he says, "Be here now, no other place to be. And let good things happen, and let the future come into each moment like the rising sun." I am relishing in the quiet moments and the great closeness that Nick and I have established in our wonderful first two years of married life, and I am slowly and daily anticipating the next phase of our life.
Here is a link to Mason Jennings' music video for "Be Here Now" on youtube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wa_4wV2GDfQ&ob=av2e
Mostly it is stemming from the fact that I am eagerly anticipating major changes in the coming year. With Nick finishing up course work for medical school in December, the arrival of "itty bitty" in February, and residency decisions happening in March...life as I know it now is going to change drastically and rapidly over the next year. I am finding that there is much to my life that needs to be processed and so begins my blog.
I don't have any fantastic ideas of where this blog will take me, but I am hopeful that it is something I can maintain for at least a little while. I would never admit to being an English buff or a grammar whiz, but I have always enjoyed writing. There is something about sitting down with your thoughts and letting your ideas come together that I've always found addicting and cathartic.
I anticipate that a great deal of my writing will be centered on processing my life experiences, hence the title of the blog. The title is actually a twist on a song by one of my favorite musicians, Mason Jennings. Nick and I have often listened to Mason's song titled "Be Here Now" and marveled at the simple power of the song's message.
We have actually deemed it our theme song for our marriage as it reminds us to slow down and take things a day at a time. The song emphasizes the importance of just being in the moment. Often I find myself thinking "if I could just get to next week" or "maybe in three years we could..." and then I have to stop and remind myself about the now and enjoy the day to day routine. It is after all the humdrum of normal everyday living that gets me to next week or three years from now, and those hopes and dreams for the future just wouldn't happen if I didn't live in this moment right now.
As I contemplated a title for this blog I really wanted to have a title that gave me some focus and represented this period of time in my life. I found that this actually captured it pretty well. Lately, I've been overwhelmed with a feeling of being on the cusp of change and yet my daily routine hasn't changed significantly. I've felt as though I want time both to simultaneously speed up and slow down all at once.
This was all spurred on in June when Nick and I found out I was pregnant. I wouldn't necessarily call it a surprise, but I think it all happened much more quickly than either of us had anticipated. Since finding out we've had the normal roller coaster of emotions, we're completely elated and then we throw in moments of impatience or fear. Couple that with the eager and nervous anticipation of welcoming a new member into our family, and we pretty much swing through all varieties of emotions on any given day.
It is a bit like that summer before your first year of college when you get the name of your first roommate. There is that period of excitement when it finally starts to feel real that you will be heading off to college. You know that things are going to be different, but you're not really sure how. The name of your roommate and those first few phone calls or emails remind you that this change is approaching. There is excitement as you learn that you have a few things in common, then there are the unknowns of how it will go to live with a stranger and what happens if you don't get a long. And of course there is that period of waiting, you start pulling together the items you'll need to make college feel like home and you buy a few new school supplies. You listen as all the people who have been through it before tell you how great it is going to be. Then they scare you with horror stories of their first roommate. Somedays you wish your could just be a senior in high school forever and then other days you couldn't be more ready to move onward and upward. In the meantime, all you can do is wait and imagine what it will be like in August or September when move in day FINALLY arrives.
I feel that way most days now. I am anticipating and starting to prepare for our little arrival. I hear stories of how amazing becoming a parent is, and then I hear about the fatigue and the complete takeover that this new family member will have on my life. I worry about leaving behind the freedom of childlessness, and then simultaneously I can hardly wait to experience the world with our child in it. In the meantime all I can do is live in the comfortable, quiet little world that Nick and I have created for ourselves over the past two years. Planning the nursery, picking out names and dreaming of who our child is becoming slowly starts to make everything feel more real, but I still have to wait.
Hence, being here now has really been my theme this summer. Mason writes it best when he says, "Be here now, no other place to be. And let good things happen, and let the future come into each moment like the rising sun." I am relishing in the quiet moments and the great closeness that Nick and I have established in our wonderful first two years of married life, and I am slowly and daily anticipating the next phase of our life.
Here is a link to Mason Jennings' music video for "Be Here Now" on youtube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wa_4wV2GDfQ&ob=av2e
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