Becky and Faith

My dear friend Becky was my reason for visiting Norman, and I had a full week of spending most of the day with her. We watched the Food Network and movies and talked and napped and ate...mostly we ate.

Becky is sick. I knew that; I'd talked to her numerous times on the phone over the past few weeks, but the gravity of it couldn't sink in until I saw her in person. The cancer is affecting her nervous system, causing her weakness and pain. She can't walk without help, she tires easily, and her voice is being affected by the medications. It was overwhelming the first day, to see my spunky, feisty friend use a walker & keep a notebook of her many meds. After the initial shock of the first day, though, I was able to see that despite her illness, that the girl is still my Becky. There is a difference between someone who is 'being strong' and someone who is strong. Becky IS STRONG! She doesn't put up a front and act strong about the situation she's in, rather, she's got what it takes to face this trial full on and do whatever it is that Heavenly Father wants her to in this experience.

It was an honor to witness the solidarity of character that she possesses. And to see that she can be frustrated and scared, and struggle with her faith in this process, which doesn't take away from her strength, because is it part of her! Someone asked me at church how she was doing, and said she'd heard that Becky was struggling with her faith. I realized that some people want to see the stone-faced stance in someone who is going through a trial. But the REAL perseverance and growth that comes in a trial is to struggle (which some people, in their fear, hear as "lose") and become stronger in one's faith, which doesn't come from saying so, but from experiencing the spectrum of feelings and uncertainties and finding how to let God mold one's heart and will according to His plan. It's not something one can just decide and make happen. In that case, it's not real, but just another example of 'being strong'. I think this is part of what I have always loved about Becky - She's got faith, but that doesn't mean she can't experience the feelings and emotions that come with being mortal along with her faith.

The image that comes to mind is that of birth. A fetus struggles in the womb and birth canal, and gets worn out in the process, and cries and most likely doesn't want to progress to the next phase of the unknown world, but it's inevitable and, really, for the best to be born. We don't fault a child (or a mother) for screaming and wishing to not be in that situation, but because of it, one is made stronger and able to progress, either as a newborn child with his mortal life before him, or as a mother with the opportunity to love in a new, greater capacity.

Norman, OK 73071

I spent the first week of my break in Norman, Oklahoma, which is where my heart calls home. I know that place inside and out.

One evening I drove past all my old apartments and places of work and such; 'haunting' my old haunts. It brought back a lot of memories. That town is full of me and my life as a young college student just starting off on her own. I'm not exagerating when I say that for pretty much every apartment complex in the town, I could name someone I had known who had lived there. I drove through an intersection and had flash-backs of the time I was ticketed for 'running' a yellow light. I knew names of side streets before the signs were visible. I passed places I'd been on dates, restaurants that roommates and I ate at according to our moods, drove by the church, institute and university and had a FLOOD of memories rush into my head of people I had known and activities I had attended. It was fun to come back to a place that I loved and learned so much in, and to experience so many memories from a different perspective. It was drizzling that night the same way it did the first evening I ventured out to explore Norman after having moved into my dorm at OU, 7-1/2 years ago.

Next to people, the thing I miss most about Norman, and Oklahoma altogether, is food. There are so many restaurants that I love there that we don't have in Memphis. I spent most of the week taking advantage of the opportunity to eat the food I miss, like Ted's Cafe Escondido (went there twice), Taco Bueno (made three trips), Braum's (two runs), Jamba Juice (twice), and Pizza Shuttle & Mazzio's (once each). I didn't get to go to Hideaway Pizza or Toto's this time, and Tony Marbel's has closed down, but I think I got a good food fix. :)

Oh, by golly have a holly jolly Christmas, this year

The semester is over, and I'm a week & a half into my Christmas break. I love being a student if for no other reason than that my schedule is incredibly more flexible than when I worked 40 hours a week.


I finished this semester with three B's and an A, and feel quite satisfied with that. This semester was an exercise in easing up on my perfectionism and need to follow rules precisely. I didn't study for tests as much as I usually feel obligated to, didn't stress as much about assignments, and didn't go over my papers 10 billion times to make sure every word was perfectly suited and strategically placed to make me sound as absolutely astute as possible. I practiced letting go of a lot of stress and worry around my classes, and was surprised several times that I scored higher on things than I thought I would, sometimes just as high as I would have if I had spent all that perfectionistic energy on the assignment.

shorn

My roommate's dad shaved my head for me on Saturday. I keep startling myself when I walk past mirrors or reach up to scratch my head. And I can't keep from rubbing my head if I'm sitting talking to someone or watching tv. It feels so different. Becky's been on my mind more than ever the last two days. I've been wearing the head scarf that she gave me a few years ago, which is really special/significant to me. I was getting ready to go in to church yesterday, and the thought occured to me that I've shaven my head 'in remembrance' of Becky. It is a constant reminder of her in my life and a symbol to myself and others of the relationship I have with her. I wondered if I have the same kind of apparent 'remembrance' of the Savior in my life. I think I probably do, just not so starkly apparent to me, because they've become more of an integrated part of my life.

It's interesting, too, because my head leads me to remember Christ and His atonement more, also. I realize that my efforts to support Becky are so miniscule in the broad range of experiences she's going through with this. But Christ has experienced it all. I can't appreciate what's going on, but he can. It helps me see how much I can be an instrument in His hands in succoring the people in my life, but I can't help anyone truely without His guidance.

Coneheads

I came home yesterday to find the movie Coneheads in my latest Netflix shipment. I think it's a little ironic that the evening before I shave my head, I watched a movie about bald 'people' with oddly shaped heads.

Tiaras

Becky had a head fetish while we lived together, too. When she was having a bad day, or even just when she wanted to feel special, she would find her tiara and wear it around the house. Tiaras are the instant anti-depressant. They just transform everything and make it better. We would sometimes clean the house or watch movies while both wearing tiaras. They became a sort of trademark of our apartment. Once I answered the door wearing mine when our friend Mike came over to visit, and he gave me an odd look, but when I explained the ritual, he was behind it all the way.

I still wear mine occasionally when I'm having a bad day, and I fully intend to bring it to Oklahoma and have some bald-and-beautiful tiara time with Becky :)

Support

This morning Becky called me while I was getting ready for work. She told me she'd gone ahead and shaved her head yesterday. She starts radiation on Monday, and they're going to give her a tatoo to mark where they will be focusing the laser. She said "I have a question for you, and I understand if you say no. You don't have to answer right now, just think about it. Would you consider shaving your head in support of me?" I knew my answer as soon as she asked. I said "Yes, I will do that!" then, knowing she wouldn't take the answer right then, added "I will definitely consider that," and we talked about the possibilities of my coming out there for a few days.

I couldn't concentrate for very long at a time at work. I spent the morning mulling over the idea of shaving my head as a way to experience a small part of what she was going through. The significance of the Atonement of Jesus Christ stuck out boldly in my head. He's experienced EVERYTHING, even Becky's cancer. I can't do that, but I can give my hair up for a few months, like she's doing, and share a small part in her experience. It hit me that for the past week I'd been thinking of her cancer as a life and death scenario. Either she was going to get through this or she might not...but considering the reality of the fact that she'd shaved her head made things a lot more real. This isn't an 'I make it or I don't' kind of situation. It's a million little different things that she's going to endure. It's the diagnosis, and seeing the progression of the cell growth over just days on two different MRIs. It's losing that beautiful hair. It's wearing bandanas and scarves. It's headaches and fatigue. It's wishing that the people around her would just cry with her. It's starting radiation therapy. And steroids. And medications. And then Chemo. And...and...

This is a trial with - only God knows how many - different tiny experiences. Something to endure through. And all I can really do with her is cry and pray and shave my head. But not the really scary stuff. I can't even fathom what it's like for her.

A few years ago, Becky came home to find me talking on my phone, with a turtleneck sweater wrapped and tied around my head in a somewhat turban-like fashion. I had absentmindedly worked it up so that it would stay on my head while I carried on a conversation and cooked some dinner. Occasionally, I'd turn up with my hair tied up in a dish towel, or something, and she'd laugh at me and point out the headpiece I'd forgotten about. We decided I had some kind of subconscious obsession with things on my head. A few weeks later, she gave me a large green and gold-ish cloth for my birthday. It was my very own head wrap. I wore it several times, out around the city, to church, or just to lounge in in the house. I loved it. I haven't worn it in a few years, but when I see it in my drawer, I always smile.

This morning the thought crossed my mind how full circle this situation has come...I have an opportunity to put the headwrap to good use, and as I wear it on my bald head, I get support the woman who gave it to me all that time ago.

She called me again after lunch to tell me that if I could work it out, she really wanted me to come be with her. I said I would, and that I was going to shave my head tomorrow.

In Shock

"My dearest friend Becky has brain cancer." I don't know how many times his thought has run through my head in the past week. I haven't known what to do with it, but to cry when it hits me, talk to people I trust when I'm feeling scared, pray, and take deep breaths. She called me on November 30th to tell me the news. I spent the first week of December trying to figure out how I could change my flight plans to accomodate a week in Oklahoma and a week in California, instead of the originally planned 2 weeks in CA. I want to be there for her. I want to support her. I want her to know I love her and can't stand that she's facing yet another physical trial.

We lived together for two years while I was a student at the University of Oklahoma. This girl is my 'kindred spirit', to quote Anne of Green Gables. She is spunky and moody and full of love and every other emotion, and loves to drive and sing to India Arie and Tori Amos and Fiona Apple. She feels things very deeply. She loves Jack Black. She has the most wonderful dark brown curly hair. She paints. She decorated her room with stars and christmas lights. She drinks Coca-Cola - the REAL thing, not diet - and leaves half bottles of it on counters and side tables all over the house. She can have an incredibly perceptive conversation about life or ghosts or why she doesn't believe something is right, and leave me pondering for days. This girl is amazing.

And I spent the past week worried I wouldn't get to see her again. I realized while setting up my Christmas tree on Saturday that this will be the fourth Christmas I've spent in Memphis. A tad over three years, but four CHRISTMASES that I've missed us being integral parts of each other's lives. On Tuesday I woke up with the dread that she might leave before I spent more time with her. My first thought of the day was "I don't want the next time I see her to be at her funeral." That scared me silly. Wednesday night I was with a group of safe, nurturing people. I mentioned her situation, and someone caught on to my sad and anxious energy. He talked with me for a few minutes, and asked if I was ok. I crumbled and cried in his arms for several minutes. "This isn't supposed to happen to someone so young!," I kept thinking. I called her on the way home and left a voicemail about my tentative plans to come be with her.

Deep Breath

I found out this evening that one of my very dearest friends has brain cancer. I'm scared and angry and sad and concerned. I hate that she has had so many physical trials, and that she's got another - a crazy-scary one - to deal with. I hate that I can't be there to be with her. I want to support her, but I don't know how to except for praying. I can't imagine how she and her family and husband are dealing with this. I'm very confused and bewildered. If you read this, please pray for Becky and her family that they will be supported in the very best way possible through this trial.

Random thought

So I was pondering the meaning of life and such this morning on my way to class, and had this thought. Blood is the only bodily fluid that one can't control with one's own thoughts or muscles. You have to actually touch the bleeding area externally in order to make yourself stop bleeding. We can 'hold it in' when we have to go to the bathroom, sniffle our noses, suppress our tears, slurp up our drool, etc., but we can't will ourselves to stop bleeding. I wonder if it's significant that the thing that makes us "mortal" is not controllable by our mind or spirit?

Power greater than myself

I love this-

"I had always believed in a Power greater than myself. I had often pondered these things. I was not an athiest. Few people really are, for that means blind faith in the strange proposition that this universe originated in a cipher and aimlessly rushes nowhere. My intellectual heroes, the chemists, the astronomers, even the evolutionists, suggested vast laws and forces at work. Despite contrary indications, I had little doubt that a mighty purpose and rhythm underlay all. How could there be so much of precise and immutable law, and no intelligence? I simply had to believe in a Spirit of the Universe, who knew neither time nor limitation."
~Bill W. in Alcoholics Anonymous

House of Cards

I read a book today called A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis. It is only about 86 pages, but really very good. Lewis was a 'confirmed bachelor' for many years, and married a woman who died of cancer 4 years later. The book is a small journal of his process of bereavement an effort to keep his faith intact in the face of such a loss.

The past few years in my life have been a process of questioning a good deal of my convictions as well as my personal hopes and desires. I lived for a long time according to the set of goals/beliefs/behaviors that were given to me by other people, but I decided that I didn't want to live like that anymore. It has been a slow, but very rewarding process. Right now I'm smack-dab in the middle of the process of looking at my faith in, and relationship with, God. I'm trying not to hurry the process and 'make' myself come to the 'right' conclusion. I want my relationship with Him to be more meaningful and real this time, rather than doing what I know I should do and feeling what I think a good disciple should feel towards Him.

idiosyncracies

I sleep with 6 pillows on my bed.

I grew up in the backwoods of Oklahoma and raised & slaughtered chickens.

One of my life goals is to tag a public edifice with graffiti...and not get caught :)

I have lived between the 30th & 35 Latitudes all of my life and I love the weather that it affords me.

I think that ballet flats are Autumn's answer to flip-flops.

I have a fish tank that is running, but has no fish in it.

I miss being short enough to climb up the inside of door frames.

I love the smell of ozone.

I am working through my issues.

yo hablo espanol.

I have worked at a newspaper office, a pizza place, a dentist's office, a psychiatrist's office, an OB/GYN clinic, and a law office.

I used to be a ballerina.

Every car I have owned thus far has been a Toyota.

I know that the atonement of Jesus Christ works.

My favorite chairs are a papasan chair and a lovesac.

I buy myself flowers when I go grocery shopping.

LOST is pretty much the best show ever. The Office is a close second.

The second toe on my right foot is slightly longer than my big toe. Supposedly this is a sign of royalty.

I love scarves.

I get road rage.

My favorite band is Counting Crows.

I like to take deep breaths.

I can touch my nose with my tongue.

I want a digital SLR camera.

I am a left-handed Aries.

I am a 12-step-er.

I file my bills and papers...sometimes.

I don't pop my knuckles, but I pop my wrists and my back multiple times a day.

I am living my life from a choiceful rather than compulsive perspective.

I can run.

I dream in color and stereo.

I have good friends.

My favorite books growing up were the Little House on the Prairie series, the Chronicles of Narnia, and the Anne of Green Gables set.

I talk with my hands.

I am DEFINITELY worth it!

So are You.

I clench my jaw.

I have married off 6 roommates and moved 10 times in the past 8 years.

I used to have a very real fear of aliens.

Audrey Hepburn is my hero.

So is Alana Davis.

I have questioned my faith and embraced it afterward.

I love rolling down grassy hills.

I can salsa- and swing-dance.

I have a history of dysfunctional relationships, and healthy relationships. Lately they have been much more healthy.

I like fun socks, but prefer none at all.

I consider grammar and languages to be among my hobbies.

I think that the best love songs are less than 3 minutes long. My favorites: For You by Duncan Sheik, and I Wanna Grow Old With You by Adam Sandler.

I have a front-loading washer and dryer, and sometimes I get mesmerized by the spinning.

I know when to follow and how to lead.

My traffic pet-peeve is people who don't use their turn signals.

I am preparing to act in my first play.

I believe in feng shui.

Someday soon I am going to go sky-diving.

Preventative maintenance

I used to run until I crashed, and I realized a few weeks ago that I haven't crashed in a long time. It's not because I haven't been running, but rather that I've been resting also and changing my oil and checking tire pressure and turning off the lights when the engine isn't running [ ;-) ]
I've learned how to practice preventative maintenance in my life, and that helps me keep going even when things get tough. I'm filling up my gas tank before it becomes depleted. I think I'm actually more productive now than I have been in a very long time.

I ran a 5k last month. My time was 33:00, which isn't anything amazing, but I haven't run regularly in over a year, and the last 5k I ran (three years ago) was in 30:34...and that was when I was running every day and training for a half marathon I felt a huge difference in the dynamics of how I performed and how I felt about myself. My body is way healthier than ever before, as well as my mind, and it's showing!

The difference

Patience is what makes up the difference between personal intention and following God's will.

it's called perfectionism, not aphasia...

A few days after I wrote the fluency post, I was flipping through a magazine while doing my daily one hour of phone duty at work. The front desk is pretty slow, so I usually make it through about half a magazine when I work up there. So this particular day I'm reading an article called "Speech Quirks" and I come across a section entitled "grasping for words or losing your place midsentence." Bingo! This magazine is going to solve my problems and get me better grades!!

Then I read the first sentence. " While it is often a symptom of talking too fast or simply being nervous, this behavior can also be a sign of perfectionism." <...dang...>

So it's not an exotic brain condition...No 'out' on this one by claiming faulty DNA or some long-forgotten brain injury...it's just plain ol' needing to be approved of and viewed positively by those around me and a fear of making mistakes. Seems like everything goes back to that dreaded 'P' word lately. So, once I get that beat, my life will be wonderful, right? ;^p

Friendship

Real friendship implies a lot more than what I see on a day-to-day basis with most people. A real friend will take the compliments and niceties along with the nitty-gritty. I want my life to be filled with people who can take and give confrontation (read "real communication", not "contention"). I learned the concept of giving and receiving confrontations in the treatment center where I began my recovery. It has changed a lot about the way I relate with others. The 'formula' for a confrontation is this: "So&so, when you do this, I think this, and I feel this. I need/would like you to this and I intend to this." It's a way of talking about the actions of others and the feelings of myself in a constructive and clear way. It removes the opportunity to control & manipulation in tough situations, and sets up an opportunity for mutual accountability and clear communication of feelings. I rarely use the formula anymore, but the concept is a big part of my interactions with people in my life. It's something that is still a struggle for me, but when I do implement it, I have so much more intimacy and freedom in the way I relate with people.

I'm realizing that the people who leave and/or enter my life lately have different degrees of willingness around real communication, and that's what determines the level of friendship that is plausible with us. My perception is that I've lost a few friendships because the people involved didn't want to talk about some feelings that could potentially be hard. It's a shame, because they assumed that I would respond a certain way, and didn't want to face that, so they didn't even give me the opportunity to talk about it. But, at the same time, I benefit from situations like this, because I know that those people aren't willing to share the same kind of openness and honesty as I am, and a real, intimate relationship just isn't feasible in that case. It also helps me to appreciate the relationships that I have that ARE capable of the level of mutual respect and communication that I desire. And that's what life is all about.

Goals

'Tis true that every day is a winding road. There is a certainty in the fact that I don't know where life will take me. But I've realized I need to plot out some markers for myself so I have at least a bit of a more concrete idea of where I've been and where I'm going. I know the general direction that I'm going. I know what I hope for in the course of the journey. I'm doing my part to get to my ultimate destination, but I don't have a lot of mile-markers set to mark my progress. To use another metaphor, I'm smack-dab in the middle of the forest, and I can see the whole valley of green, but I'm having a hard time seeing the individual trees. It's time to pick them out and give them names.

In the course of the past three years, my perspective and approach to the way I handle life has done pretty much a 180-degree turn. I'm not trying to micro-manage every step and wallowing in the chaos that results from failing miserably at that. Now, it's more of a "roll with what comes and see what God has in store" kind of approach. This new way is working SO much better for me. But I think I need some goals & objectives mixed in there, too, so I can measure the progress and change that is happening in my life. The challenge here will be to not fall back into control mode, and let myself have goals while continuing to let God handle the wheel. Wish me serenity!

fluency

I had an oral interview with one of my Spanish prof's the other day. He talked with me for a little while about my fluency. I pause a lot when I'm speaking, and he assumed that I am concentrating too much on my pronunciation, and told me not to worry so much about it,that my pronunciation is fine. But it's not that - It's that I just can't get the word I want to come out of my mouth when I want it to. It's like I start speaking and my brain freezes on me.

For as long as I can remember, I've had a hard time accessing the words that I want to say, and getting them on the conveyor belt through my brain to my mouth. Over the past 5-10 years, I've made some impressive progress in that area, in English. There have been many times when I felt a sense of gratitude toward someone talking with me, patiently straining to listen as I stalled and hemmed during a simple sentence. It's not a stutter in the mouth, but something like that in my head. I see, think, and feel the words I want to communicate, but they refuse to make the transition from thought to audible meaning. But recently I haven't had such a hard time with it...at least when speaking in my native tongue.


With Spanish, on the other hand, it's the same old story. I know what I want to say, and have a great point to make, but I'll open my mouth and after about 3 words, I can't make them come to my tongue anymore. The mental rolodex file of vocabulary spins and offers occasional words that don't quite fit, but it won't pull up the one I'm asking for. Sometimes it comes in English but, often, just doesn't present itself at all, and I have to go with one that just doesn't quite fit what I want to say, but is accessible.

Maybe this is just normal, but I wonder if it's mild form of aphasia?

Campus happenings

I love being on campus, if only for the sheer volume in opportunities to people-watch. I saw a girl this week as I was passing the theater building. She walked up to a group of people standing outside the door and a boy extended his arm to her. They hugged, and the expression on her face was one of pure, unadulterated bliss. That fueled a grin on my face for the next three buildings.
The institution of this place is so...institutional. Classic avacado green bathroom stalls, rows of fluorescent lighting, standard wall clocks, the door on Dunn Hall that has been broken for going on 14 months, according to my estimation, and apparently none of the physical facilities staff cares (I'm gonna start putting signs on it saying 'please fix me' pretty soon). But the people are what brings the place to life. I love seeing someone whom I've never had a class with and never met, but when we pass on the sidewalk, we recognize one another and smile.

The Spirit of St. Louis

I took a weekend road trip with a friend to St. Louis, MO. I was reminded of several things over those few days. Here are a few:

Spontaneity is awesome.

Good windshield wipers are indispensable.

This is my favorite type of road trip picture.

Memphis streets have infinitely fewer bugs than I-55 at night.

14-month old girls are wonderfully precious.

Watching college football is in my top three favorite ways to spend time. (Boomer Sooner!)

After 3 years of being in the same place, it's nice to be the 'new girl' sometimes.

Gi-normous gas station signs have a special place in my heart.

I am enamored of Australian accents.

The problem in front of me quite often has deeper roots somewhere else.

Music is wonderful and John Mayer rocks!

I apparently know more about Wii Sports than the average mormon girl and, sometimes, guy.

It's nice to know I'm missed.

Courtney Deliah's fashion sense has rubbed off on me over the years.

It is A-OK that I'm who I am, where I am, and when I am at this point in my life, and I'm moving forward.

Applebee's has this cool little device that lets you listen to any one of 8 televisions that are playing in the restaurant, right at your table.

'Fun' has a variety of meanings.

"I'm not gonna write you a love song, 'cause you ask for it, 'cause you need one."

Transitions

I helped a friend move today. My relationship with her has become one of the most valued in my life right now, and I feel fortunate to have had the opportunity to spend the better part of a day with her. It's funny, I helped her move all her belongings into a storage space and clear out her apartment, but I feel as if I benefited just as much or more from the time together. There are evenings that I spend with friends going out or watching dvds or playing games that are not nearly as exhausting as today was, but the boost I received from today was much more than I get from those evenings.

Doors are shutting, and new ones opening in my life right now, and at the moment, I feel very at peace with the movement. It's really quite eerie how things seem to be working out lately.

Mostly, I just have to say that I feel enriched and grateful for the progress and direction that God has provided for my life. ...and the California sushi roll I had tonight wasn't bad, either ;-)

Baggage

Everyone has baggage. We're all in the airport. We've all been in different places, and we're all going to other places. We take things with us from the places we've been, usually things we think will help us be ourselves and be safe in the new places that we're going to. Sometimes we pack too much, and sometimes we pack too little.

Whatever baggage we have, whether carryon or check-in, is very important to us. We don't want to loose it involuntarily, we don't really want other people rummaging through it, and we DEFINITELY don't want to be found in possession of something those other people deem inappropriate to carry with us.

Sometimes - in reality very much more often than at a standard airport - we find ourselves in possession of baggage that is not really ours. Someone left it and, sometimes unbeknownst to us, sometimes voluntarily, we pick it up because we're doing that person a favor, or we really think it's ours. The trouble with this baggage is that we don't know what is inside. We're unfamiliar with the contents, either because we don't want to take the time to look at them, or we unwittingly trust that that person or period of life wouldn't want to give us inappropriate baggage.

To not know what is in the bags you're carrying is very risky business. That's what causes trouble in the airport, and down the road at new destinations. They used to ask us at check-in "Did you pack your bags yourself? Has anyone else handled your bags?" It's so important to know exactly what's in our bags and to have placed it in there choicefully ourselves. If that's not the case, then the airport is the place to get those bags checked-out and find out what's really in there. This is a safety precaution for ourselves and everyone around us. As long as we know what's in our bags, and understand why it's there, we have a much, much better chance of not blowing ourselves up or injuring those around us by the denial that comes of carrying items we aren't sure about the contents of.

On the other hand, we've all seen homeless people sitting outside a terminal. Their baggage is usually out in the open, piled in a shopping cart or in lots of plastic shopping bags, visible for all to take inventory of if they wanted to stare that long. These people have become paralyzed by the junk that is all they carry with them. Even if someone had a ticket, it would be very difficult to get him on a plane because of the disorderliness of his belongings. Some people live life like this, hanging on to a few dingy things from their past life, unable to move on; immobilized by the gravity and cumbersomeness of their belongings.

As for me, I've been one of those who said sure when someone asked me to watch their bags. I even codependently picked up those bags, and eventually assumed full responsibility for them. Then I got to the security counter and was informed that the bags I'd been carrying, both mine and the other people's, had items that were not safe for me to carry, and would be harmful to those around me. Having put so much energy into carrying these bags, it's been hard to let them go and repack the items that will be helpful on my trip into a more compact load that's easier to carry, and to give the other bags to their rightful owners. There are still some things I'm carrying that security thinks would be better if I didn't...not lethally dangerous, but excessively heavy items that they charge me extra to put on the plane. But I at least know what they are, and have a plan to dispose of them safely.

I need fellow-travelers who are on the same track. The contents of these bags are by no means pristine and perfect, but their owners know what's there and how it got there and what they want to do with it. I just REALLY don't want to get blown up half-way into my flight because someone I'm with didn't take the time look carefully in his bag and missed that time-bomb that he didn't realize was there.

daily learnings and such

I'm starting a blog to record the bits of awarenesses and aha! moments in the day-to-day life of a twenty-something girl.

Today I remembered how much I enjoy classic movies. I watched "Singin' in the Rain". Such a good one! I also SO love dancing.

I have found recently that I have a hard time seeing past appearances and linguistic accents to get to the real person that is talking to me. This awareness has helped me look past those things, but I have a lot of preconceived notions about many people in my life that I want to get away from. I learned this way of NOT relating to people from my mom. She had so much energy around not picking up the West Texas, and then the Oklahoman accents, and I picked that up and have been carrying it ever since.

Personally, I am an accent chameleon. When around my mother's Californian family members, I completely loose any accent. When in Texas, my vowels get MUCH longer and I loose all G's at the end of my words. My memphis accent is a happy medium.

My goal is to leave twang and accents out of the equation as much as possible when relating to another person. Just because my co-worker SOUNDS like she's from backwoods Tennessee, she's really very smart, a caring mother, sister and daughter who has just as much of a realistic understanding of the world as someone who enunciates each sylable crisply and concisely.