feeding the multitudes

These days, as my first post-college cohort of married friends and same-aged cousins is beginning to have their babies and post about it on Facebook, I find myself feeling ill-prepared to have children.

That's not quite the right way to say it; I mean, I definitely want kids at some point... And I don't even think I'd be an awful parent at this point in my life, theoretically. It's just that it feels like enough work keeping my own head above water to imagine being responsible for another tiny little life. And what if I have twins?! (It's on both sides of the family...)

I have to give my mom props here. As I mentioned a few weeks ago, I've been taking a ceramics class with my siblings this summer. (We just started spinning on the wheel this week and I'm in love -- but that's a story for another day.) Because I live less than 10 minutes away from the studio, everybody gathers at our place on Tuesday evenings around 5:30 to eat and drive to class together.

And usually, on Tuesdays, J has bro night -- also at our place. Which means there are 6 hungry young adults hanging in my living room, hot and ravenous, half an hour after I get home from work. And four of us have to eat and wash our plates and leave the house 45 minutes later.

You probably see where I'm going with this, but let me break it down.

Week One:
I forget this is happening and text Jason before leaving the office: "Just remembered my sibs are coming for dinner tonight and we have ceramics at 6:30..."

So I rush in from work, throw together a cold quinoa salad which we eat hot because there isn't time for it to cool, and J graciously grills a few extra burgers to share with my siblings. (And by a few extra, I mean ten.) We also split three fresh ears of corn between the six of us. We are 5 minutes late to our first class, and I have a pile of dirty plates to wash when I get home three hours later.

Week Two:
I give Jason a little more warning this time, and ask nicely; so he (again, graciously) makes three extra pounds of grilled chicken, and grills up the last of our potatoes and a sad pile of waning wax beans (i.e. the only thing grillable in our crisper). I'm sure the boys are still hungry, but my hands are tied.

Week Three:
Asha texts me in the afternoon asking if we can have pizza for dinner. I breathe a sigh of relief and reply, "Done. That's exactly what I was thinking for tonight."

I order two large pizzas online before leaving work, and pick them up on my way home. (I beat most of the people back to my house that night...)

When J and I order pizza, we spend about $13 and eat it for breakfast AND lunch the next day. I spent more than twice that much on pizza that night, and it was gone within 20 minutes.

Week Four:
Monday night, 9:30 p.m. J and I are on our way home from eating dinner at my parents' house. I remember, in exhausted desperation, that we have to somehow feed 6 people in less than 24 hours, and the only thing in the fridge is Guinness and hard-boiled eggs.

I wake up early on Tuesday and -- on a whim -- take chicken thighs out of the freezer, chop up some potatoes and dump it all into a slow cooker with a can of diced tomatoes and a bunch of herbs.

I put on rice when I got home, and it all turns out pretty well. I feel like I nailed it for the first time since ceramics started -- and everyone washes their own plates.

And then when I open the tupperware of leftovers at lunch the next day, it's all potatoes. The chicken got completely polished off the night before.

* * * * *
I don't want it to sound like I'm complaining; like most of my life's struggles, I'm looking at this as an exercise. And it's such good exercise that I have to give my mom mad props for feeding us breakfast, lunch and dinner when we were little (four little kids under the age of 6) and, when we got older, coming home from work and making dinner every day and half the time eating only what was left on our plates. And not only that, but a good percent of the time, everything got ready at more or less the same time. It's not as easy as moms make it look.

I am enjoying this exercise while it lasts, and it's already made me stronger -- but I will be glad to get back to my regular struggles of worrying about what the two of us will eat every night of the week (except the two nights where our moms still feed us), plus leftovers for lunch. And for the time being, I'm happy not trying to feed a small, brand-new human (or two or three) who will probably refuse to eat and/or will throw most of the food at me. I'm sure I'll be delighted about it someday, but right now I've got enough on my plate.

This Friday evening, it's a G+T, a pickle, a chocolate chip oatmeal cookie and a PB&J. And Jason made the sandwich for me.

doing 'nothing'

Our beginning-of-the-week conversations for the first few months consisted of, "What did you do this weekend?" "Nothing." "Really? Nothing?" *Shrug* Before we started exchanging books, hanging out first once a week, then twice, then three or four times and texting in between.

Three and a half years later, people are asking us, "What are you guys doing for the Fourth?" And we say, "Nothing."

It's been nonstop for months now, the days and weeks and weekends jam-packed with meetings and hanging out and appointments and checking things off the list. I like that, to an extent; but a three-day weekend with no obligations is a rainbow unicorn in my version of adulthood, at least.

*****
Last week I wrote, but my heart wasn't in it. And then Friday evening came around, and our fridge was fresh out of food and we had company coming from out of town. So I decided not to post. I stressed about it for an hour or so, and realized I wasn't being present, and that's the important thing; so I gave myself a get-out-of-jail free card and forgot about it. This is part of being gracious toward myself.

It's about what's important. Celebrating means different things to different people, and has meant different things to me at different points in my life. Some people like spending holidays in the world's most famous celebration spots, packed up against strangers like the contents of a massive sushi roll. Those people probably think of strangers as future friends.

I am working on priorities. It's hard for an overcommitter like me to stay committed to everything, and I'm working on whittling down my commitments, whittling down my priorities and using the important things as a flowchart to decide whether I can take anything else on or not. I'm reading lots of LinkedIn articles about it and testing out methods of keeping my life in order. My biggest central goal right now is finding zen in the rhythm of my life, even when it's crazy and too full of good things. Rolling with it.

But my top priority is clear: my relationships with good people - maintaining them, and, more importantly, enjoying them.

Last week, when I really thought about it, between my commitment to blogging and my commitment to hosting, the choice was pretty clear. Today, I am taking a much-needed breather, starting my day with good food and a long conversation, just J and me, with good food and drinks sprinkled throughout. This relationship takes precedence, the health of our relationship and taking time to check in and recalibrate, and while we're at it, putting some care into our mental health.

This is a bit of an oversimplification, but so far my big lesson for summer 2015 is prioritizing, and using that hierarchy to make decisions about what I'm committing to.

With that in mind, I'm signing off. Happy Fourth (though I hope you all are celebrating with your friends and families, dear readers, and won't see this until the day is over). Until I write again...

the mission: ceramics 101

"Are you the Swansons?" - our ceramics teacher as we rolled into class 5 minutes late. (Not bad...) "Are you a band? You sound like a band."

Now that's a new one. But it's particularly funny right now since our running joke for the summer is that we're going to start a family a cappella group a la Von Trapp Family Singers. We opted not to share that joke with out new classmates and teacher; best not to get their hopes up.

"Trapp Family Singers 1941" by Trapp Family Singers
Metropolitan Music Bureau, New York. Photo by Larry Gordon.

We went around the room and introduced ourselves: the high school English teacher trying ceramics out for fun; three women who took the class before and got addicted; Thom, doing this to hang out with the siblings; me, who made some pinch pots back in first grade and hung out with potters in college; Maria, the music person whose idea it was to take the class in the first place ("so when we all hate it we know who to blame!"); and Asha, who of course got the hang of the clay long before the rest of us could even put two pinch pots together and keep them inflated.

By the end of the three hours, Asha had a lion head ready to be fired; Maria made an abstract "war bird"; I had a lumpy eggplant that stands on end and Thomas created and collapsed a pineapple. ("I don't really need a bunch of clay pineapples collecting dust.") After 8 weeks, we're all hoping to have a mug to show for ourselves.

This is what my siblings and I do for fun. The other day J and I showed up for dinner and my dad was tiling the upstairs bathroom, Asha was picking up rocks from the creek to line flower beds, Maria was stitching a T-shirt quilt and Thomas had plans for his latest project laid out in graph paper all over the living room. "Now you know why I get so irritated when the TV's on all the time," I said to J.

One summer, we scripted, set, and produced an adventure movie filmed across four cities in Northern India. The final product was 20 minutes long, with complicated character relationships and a cast of six.

my inspiration: pottery from friends

I value that creative outlet, and the creative community in growing up that way. It's a hunger I carry with me everywhere I go, even now... Even though I dedicate so little time to creative endeavors these days. I envy people who do art professionally, like my full-time writer friends here in Delaware and my college friends now doing MFAs, publishing chapbooks, selling handmade jewelry or bowls or clothes in towns around the country. I envy people who have the energy after work to do anything more than throw together a (roughly) balanced dinner and maybe a fancy cocktail - my art of choice these days.

I caught up with a friend last week who just left her job in preparation for moving and starting grad school over the next few months. She said, "Now that I'm not working, the TV is hardly ever on. I just find a lot of other things to do."

Out of desperation, I added that it serves its purpose; it's an easy way to get a story fix at the end of a full day.

As a kid, I watched only PBS until I aged out around 10. Sesame Street taught me how to read, and Wishbone taught me how to love it; Mr. Rogers taught me imagination. When we had filled our TV quota for the day, we would run downstairs and build a "magic Barney bag" full of scavenged craft materials, or put on a sock puppet show, or set up our own mini-Olympics in the living room. We built tiny towns of mud-and-twig huts in the backyard, elaborate Lego cities for our plastic animal figurines, box and blanket forts for ourselves. Whatever we saw on TV, we replicated in real life. After a movie, when the credit music came on, we all leaped up from the couch and started dancing. When I read a great book, I started writing what I hoped would turn into a great book.

That is the luxury of childhood, and now I see it as such. When I have kids, I hope I can pass that on to them... but in the meantime I'm on a mission to find creativity in the adult world.

Readers: let me know where you all find your creativity, and how you make time and space for it!

the last post: a commencement address

For the last post I thought about writing a reprise of the first post, an excuse to celebrate.

But when I went back and read it again, it was instantly clear that this, in its simplest sense, would not satisfy me. I don't know why I am surprised, but it felt less relevant. It is not what is needed now.

But it was originally written as a commencement speech. And, lo and behold, we are in the throes of commencement season. And this is a commencement of sorts...

So, given my timeless love for commencement addresses, here is my address to the Second Set of Baby Steps Class of 2014!



Let me preface this by saying that by no means do I expect us to be done walking these particular baby steps. I suspect that life comes in circles, of confidence and insecurity, of beginnings and endings, and that any of us may find ourselves retracing some steps at any point in our lives. This isn't a bad thing; there is comfort in familiarity, and we can only hope that some things get easier the second time around!

I also have few hopes of avoiding cliches in this commencement. Cliches were something I was determined to avoid the last time around, and giving advice is another. It would have been disingenuous, I thought, to presume to have any answers. Which says a lot about where I was at the time, metaphysically.

What I hoped to leave my audience with in May of 2011 was courage, and permission to enjoy the uncertain days to come. Because this is what I needed to hear. I was overwhelmed with uncertainty and the overwhelming message of the time was, "You will do great things." Not exactly the best combination, and I harbored a lot of resentment toward different people and systems and institutions because of it.


Of course we need courage and good humor now as much as ever, but there are fewer loose ends in my life now, fewer surprises, and I guess I am getting used to the long-term insecurity of being alive and maintaining my middle-class status.

I think that is an important message for graduates: life isn't fun and games, and a lot of it is out of our control. But we are the ones who choose how we approach it, which parts to focus on, which parts to accept and foster. This, I believe, is the difference between a happy person and an unhappy one, and this is where courage and good humor come in handy. And maybe faith as well. The courage to do what we need to do, to overcome hesitations and sally forth into the unknown; the good humor to rise from a particularly nasty fall, especially when everyone is watching; and the faith to believe in ourselves, in what we are doing and the paths we are on.

So here is my hope now: that no matter what happens, we will never let the world steal our souls or crush our spirits; that we never give up on happiness, on the power of good to win out, if only in small ways.

I hope we keep dreaming, and that we put work into bringing these dreams a little bit closer to fruition, even if it takes our lifetimes and our children's lifetimes to happen.

I will continue to pray for peace, in the world and in all of our hearts.

I hope we never give up on finding beauty in the world, and if it ever seems like a hopeless cause, that we set ourselves to the task of creating some.


We have to be committed to our best life, the best versions of ourselves. Nothing happens, or works, unless we choose it, stubbornly and decisively: not a successful relationship (with human, god, or animal), not a dream job, not a delicious homecooked dinner, not a single post on this blog, or its graceful finish. The things that are important, and meaningful, and worth living for - those things are not mistakes. They cannot be mistakes.


This is not happily ever after. It's not a happy ending. Life is not that clear-cut. The story doesn't end just because the narrator stops telling it (or pauses to catch her breath). It just calls on the readers for a little imagination, to bring it to life in other ways, beyond the back cover.

Please, readers, graduates, baby step-takers, President of the Board - breathe life into this life. Breathe life into the steps you take beyond this grand finale, beyond the pomp and circumstance.


I know I will.

Until we meet again...
xoxo
Clara

posted from Bloggeroid

a real christmas story

Last night, instead of blogging, I made a bunch of stops to hammer out my Christmas shopping. I had a list of four places to go - an ambitious goal for a weeknight. J. did offer to help, and cut it down to three stops, and I had left place #2 telling him I'd be home within a half hour. I was breezing through my last stop, the craft store, and feeling optimistic about my ETA when a man approached me, looking concerned, and asked, "You read English?"

I said I did, and he beckoned for me to follow him. "Español? Poquitito?"

"Sí," I responded.

He led me into the educational toys and books aisle and asked me to read for him the titles and features of different books. "In English. Slow." He was determined to get the perfect book to help his young daughter learn how to read - in English. Something he couldn't do.

"Your Spanish is good," he said with a smile, so I started using more Spanish words in our conversation. He told me I didn't have to translate the book descriptions, just read them. Slowly.

Gradually, though, our conversation switched almost completely to Spanish. He started asking about beads, the ones you arrange in little designs and then iron together. "What's the age limit on this?" he asked. We started exchanging vocabulary words: bucket. Cubeta.

Then he asked me to write down the names and prices of the different bead kits, so his wife could come back later and choose one. He only had fifteen dollars with him. He didn't make it to the bank before it closed.

When he had made his decision, he smiled broadly and thanked me profusely. "You should come here more often," he laughed, and told me he has been looking for a fire truck toy for his little son. I remembered the wooden fire trucks in my grandparents' house, and the elaborate toys that used to appear under our Christmas tree with my brother's name on them. My heart broke, just a little.

"Feliz navidad," he said, more than once, smiling like crazy. "Jorge," and reached out to shake my hand. "Clara." "Mucho gusto." "Mucho gusto."

"Feliz navidad to you too, and your family," I said.

He couldn't stop smiling. "And to yours as well!" And he gave me a hug, and thanked me again, and said merry Christmas one more time, and we went our separate ways.

Happy holidays to you and yours. I hope the holiday spirit touches you in some way this season.

posted from Bloggeroid

healthcare and the affordable care act

If you have been following the blog for awhile now, you might have picked up that healthcare is an area of great interest for me. (See the Wisdom Teeth Saga of 2012 for a taste.) I don't think I'm alone in this, either. In many cases, new adults like myself have been used to the college healthcare plan that includes: squeezing all our doctors' appointments into Christmas break; mediocre campus health services; or perpetually self-medicating.

And now things are a little different. We make our own doctors' appointments. I, for one, am eternally grateful that I am now covered by my dad's insurance coverage until I'm 26, and I can say even more confidently that I'm not alone in that! A few of my classmates and friends have been faced unexpectedly with bigger medical issues: traffic accidents, surgeries, food poisoning, and even cancer.

I know that, at least in my circles, a cheer went up when Obama won the presidential election in 2008, and again when the Affordable Care Act (ACA) passed. Affordable healthcare options are a weight off our shoulders, once we've seen our monthly student loan payments, the discouraging job market, plus the cost of a data plan/rent/gas/car insurance (which we need to be able to drive our cars to work).

But this is all theoretical, right? October 1 is now infamous for the launch of Healthcare.gov, which more or less collapsed under the apparently colossal demand. Perhaps that demand in itself testifies to the importance of accessible healthcare options. And now, the December 15 enrollment deadline is rapidly approaching. I thought it was high time I address this topic.

Now, I have gone out of my way to learn about this Obamacare business. I have been collecting intel on it for months. In the summer and early fall, there was a lot of talk about healthcare and insurance marketing to millennials. (My take? Stop messing around and be real with us. We've got an eye for real value. Just tell me: what am I getting out of this? It'd better be good!) Then, after October 1, and after the government shutdown fiasco blew over, it was all about the broken website. There has been a disturbing undercurrent of what I can only see as propaganda, trying to convince young people in particular to defy Big Brother and forgo coverage. And now everybody's in a panic, because we don't really know what's going on, but we know it's important and it probably impacts us in a big way.

So I tried to talk to a bunch of people to get a feel for the personal experiences of the ACA an the changes to the healthcare system. I didn't get to talk to any newly married couples, but I will say that most of us who are under the age of 26 are just sticking with our parents' plans until we can't anymore. My lucky 30-ish friends who already have jobs with benefits are set, and their spouses are also OK. Some of them are batting around the idea of fast-tracking their upcoming marriages to get uninsured spouses covered before 2014. I also have friends who have switched jobs in the past year, with benefits being a major motivating factor. There are a few who don't have insurance at all, don't have a way to get it, and simply can't afford the monthly premiums. That is a real thing, and a problem.



I work for a small company, which hired an insurance consultant to discuss our needs and options with each of us individually. This guy told me about the bronze, silver, gold, and platinum level plans, how much each of them costs, my deductible for each and what's covered under every level. He said the factors that influence the cost are my zip code, my birthdate, and whether or not I smoke. So, my coworkers who live in a different state will have different options. I will tell you that the plans ranged in price from $190 to $330 a month.

I balked at this. To be honest, I just don't have that kind of money left over in my monthly budget. That would eat up my emergency fund - the dollars that would cover healthcare expenses up to my deductible amount, for example. Even splitting that cost with my employer, I would be hard-pressed to keep those payments coming for a sustained period of time.

Now, don't get me wrong; I completely buy into this system. I count it as a victory that people with pre-existing conditions, poor people, and single-parent families now have a shot at being insured, and I would chip in for that in a heartbeat - if I could. For now I am heaving a sigh of relief that my dad's plan will still cover me at no extra cost to him or to his employers. (For the record, this is something I'm not clear about: the healthcare advisor said that under a family plan, each additional member costs extra; but most of the people I talked to said it makes no difference for their family how many people are on the plan. There's a premium and a deductible for a family, no matter how many members are covered by the plan. For this reason, most of my peers are staying on our parents' plans as long as we can.)

It's not a perfect solution, by any means. I have heard time and time again that the success of this new system depends on the buy-in of 20-somethings, and this could be a problem. Because we feel invincible (not me, definitely, but that's the stereotype). Because we are in many cases unemployed, or in the Peace Corps. Because we just can't afford it. Because we don't understand it and how it works, and we don't understand how to look for the information we need.

(FYI, in Delaware, there is a service called Choose Health Delaware created to help people navigate the system. I have no testimonials on whether or not it works, but they're marketing it pretty hard.)


It's not a perfect solution, but it is an answer to a very real problem. The healthcare and public health situation in this country is horribly broken, and we're paying for it as a nation - financially, culturally, emotionally. It has very serious side effects on our economy, and more importantly, on our national psyche.

I have been encouraging my peers to participate in the exchanges, if they can. I have been encouraging them to seek out information. I have been asking questions and trying to understand the strengths and weaknesses of this new system. I believe we need this, as a nation, whether it works or not. Our public health system is sorely lacking in comparison to that of other developed nations, in most areas except one: spending. That should be enough to grab our attention.

I strongly believe that this is a step in the right direction. Our healthcare system is a mammoth monster and it will take time and probably many stumbles for us to overcome it and find a system that works. I quote a friend of mine who is working on a master degree in social work:

"This very imperfect system (The ACA) is a step toward really really important universal coverage. Because the UN and lots of people view universal healthcare as a human right, I think the ACA is an important step forward. I think the Obama admin. (despite handling things like the website horribly) is really trying to offset costs for young people but the insurance reality remains that healthy people subsidize sick people and young people are overall healthy."

All this being said, readers, if you're still with me - I urge you not to give up. Do not be discouraged. Keep thinking critically, as we were raised and educated to do, about the problem that faces our country and the bodies that constitute it, the bodies both healthy and ill. Let's be constructive and creative, and while we do what we must do for the time being, take note of what works and what doesn't, and what we need to be better and stronger and healthier as a nation. It's not impossible. We just don't know how to do it yet.

* * * * * * *
Readers, I'm still curious. I know I still have a lot to learn about our healthcare system and the changes that are taking place. What are your thoughts and experiences with all of this? Share them with me in the comments.

And thanks for reading!

posted from Bloggeroid

oversleeping, and baby steps

Mid-November has come and gone. It's cold, and the holiday season is approaching. I've been sick for going on two months now, things are pretty crazy at work, I'm moving this week, and I haven't done any of my Christmas shopping which I vowed to get done before Thanksgiving. I think it's safe to say that's not going to happen.

It's funny, though, that two and a half years after graduating college, this is the summary of my life. I'm feeling more and more settled into this groove, and to be honest I like it. I have a lot more leftover emotional energy than I had at other points in my life, enough to keep in closer touch with old friends, for example. (Snapchat doesn't hurt, though, I'll tell you that.)

This week, though, I'm resisting the early wake-up. I do love starting the day with yoga, or with 1500 words, but my body just is not having it this week. On Sunday night, I checked my alarm for Monday morning and somehow completely failed to register that I didn't have one set. Predictably, then, I overslept, and missed yoga.

Monday night I double-checked my alarm, but come Tuesday I slept through it. Same this morning. And I haven't even been going to bed past ten o'clock!

The great thing about this is: I don't even care! At other points in my life, even other months this year, I would have been thrown off, anxious, certain that the odd start to the day set the tone for the rest of it. This week, I'm like, "I hear you, body. Thanks for laying down the law."

There are certain things not worth worrying about: things outside my control, and things that have already happened.

Except to the extent that they can inform my future actions and responses.

Does the same thing apply to NaNoWriMo? I've pretty much fallen off the horse and my novel is listing in the doldrums. I'm a little more anxious about how far behind I am on my word count, and how many days this week I haven't written, and how many of my writing days only produced a couple hundred words.

But I'm proud of how far I've come, and I have a good base. A better base than I've ever had for a novel. And I've learned a ton about how to approach the project, and prepare for it, nexth time I tackle WriMo. Yes, there will be a next time!

Baby steps, friends. I'm living it.



I want to hear from you. What are the baby steps you find yourself taking, readers? What are you struggling with? What are your victories? What do you want to know more about? What do you want to read about?

posted from Bloggeroid

7 ways to get ahead of the sad

The days are getting shorter, colder, and darker, and maybe that explains why the other day I caught myself in a semi-perpetual state of irritation. This happens every year and I like to think that every year I get better at coping. A list of ways to get ahead of the SAD season seems like an appropriate post for today.

1. Cry intentionally about things that don't matter. This may sound counterintuitive, but hear me out. The other day I sat down to finish The Five People You Meet In Heaven (destined to have some sad parts in it) and ended up crying pretty much straight through the last two chapters. It was beautiful. And I felt so much better afterward! Lighter. Of course, it helped that the message of the book was not a depressing one. It was about love and human connection. Which is something worth crying about, if you ask me.

2. Find something to smile about. I don't mean just smile, but think of something that legitimately makes you happy. There is an urban legend that simply smiling is a mood booster, but I recently read a study showing that smiling for a reason is much more effective at bringing you closer to true happiness. Besides, we've all seen Peter Pan, right?

3. Indulge your guilty pleasures - just a little bit. This could be anything: romance novels, Miley Cyrus, chocolate... Enjoy something you really enjoy, guilt-free. Not to the point that it makes you feel gross, but just enough now and then to make you smile.

4. Exercise. This is a pretty common one, but I can't stress enough how much it actually does help. Get into a routine. Find a class that makes you feel good. Of course I recommend BodyCombat, if you find yourself often frustrated; or Zumba - "ditch the workout and party!" Set goals for yourself, especially if they're small, because achieving something always makes you feel good. And once you add in the natural endorphins and carving out time to do something you like, that's a triple boost.

5. Get out your slippers! They'd better be soft! Line up your fuzzy slippers, robe, hoodie, flannel and fleece! (I should have added Snuggies to the guilty pleasures list!) Get out your warm things. Wear whatever make you feel cozy, fabrics you like to feel next to your skin. Get out your baby blankets and Grandma afghans and gigantic comforters and fleece throws. You can't let your body be cold if you want to keep your mind and your heart warm.

6. Take alone time. Don't let yourself be afraid of being by yourself. You need to have time to breathe. That being said, fresh air doesn't hurt either. Take a solo stroll, or a drive, maybe. I went grocery shopping by myself the other day and it felt ridiculously liberating. Read a book. Have a cup of tea. Write letters. Plug in your headphones on the treadmill. Or just take a nap. But set a timer; don't let yourself get into that place where the sun goes down and suddenly you look around and realize you're all by your lonesome. It starts to feel real dark right about then.

And that brings me to...

7. Make dates. Make sure you look somebody in the eye, give a hug, exchange pleasantries or have a good conversation, at least once a day. Make plans to visit someone who lives a little father away. We need human connections to get by, and making dates gives you something to look forward to. I guess I should also add that it's crucial to be around people who lift you up, make you laugh, make you feel good about yourself and about the world. No room for Debbie Downers and Negative Nancys and Pessimistic Pollys this time of year. Pollyannas might not be the best thing either, actually. The best thing is someone who knows you and accepts all your sides, dark and light, and understands your world.

It takes a lot of effort for me to stay positive year-round, and I know I'm not the only one. I get scared and anxious and I get scared and anxious about being scared and anxious. But I'm figuring out what I can do to make it better, smoother, no matter what month it is, no matter how many hours of daylight turn my face to the sky.

posted from Bloggeroid

hashtag remember the sabbath

There are suddenly so many things to write about. I am feeling a constant creative surge lately that distracts me from my own comings and goings and makes me restless. I guess the feeling is perfectly timed because this year I'm really going to try National Novel Writing Month and will need plenty of creative energy to crank out 1700 words a day through the month of November.

I get notifications every day from this Facebook group called Organic Faith Online, which is run by an old friend of mine. I typically don't get deeply involved in the group, since its offline community operates out of the Buffalo, NY, area, but this week's theme is Sabbath, which happens to be an area of great interest and ongoing turmoil for me.

And, given my current state of mind, I thought it wouldn't be a bad topic for a blog post. Rest is an incredibly important but underdiscussed issue in our society, and particularly for new adults.

Sabbath is God's day of rest in the Biblical Creation story, the seventh day after creating the world and everything in it. Historically Judeo-Christian belief systems have kept the Sabbath in tribute to this (and because it's in the 10 commandments - good luck getting out of that one).

But for a girl who grew up in a strong Lutheran household in suburban America, Sabbath was confusing. We didn't go shopping on Sundays. For the longest time I wasn't allowed to go the mall with my friends on Sundays. We didn't go out after church, most weeks. Saturday was the day for chores, because we tried not to do anything resembling work on Sunday. And even that was weird to me, too, because church was my dad's job and he always had to work on Sunday... So didn't that sort of defeat the purpose of the "Sabbath"?

(Of course half the stories in the Gospels are about Jesus healing on the Sabbath and everyone getting all hung up about it, and Jesus saying, "Y'all are really missing the point." But I was 10. I hadn't put that together yet. I guess God's work is exempt...)

The thing that really got me was when I said I didn't have anything to do instead and my parents said, "We need time to Just Be." In my head it was always capitalized and italicized.

And it still is, to this day. I eventually (if somewhat reluctantly) found an appreciation for a Day of Rest, and for Just Be-ing. In college I assigned myself one day of the week where I would not do homework, and wouldn't feel guilty about it either. And on Sunday nights Cass and I ran the All Good Things radio show (now a blog feature) which forced me to put on a zen voice for my listeners. The zen voice is surprisingly convincing, even to myself.

After college, when I was living in St. Croix Falls with Ann, our only day off together was Sunday. We ran most of our errands on our separate days off, but Sunday was the day we didn't have to wake up or get dressed if we didn't want to (which we usually didn't). It usually involved some kind of elaborate ritual of making and eating brunch, usually involved romping around outside or biking around town, reading in our hammocks and experimenting with mixed drinks. We talked about trying to go to church in town at some point, but never made it. Considering ourselves complete and unsalvageable heathens, we joked about "remembering the Sabbath" in our own non-religious ways.

I've become a lot more serious over the two years since then, in some ways I like and some ways I'm less excited about. #RemembertheSabbath has become a saving grace to me as I worry about money, about time, about becoming too immersed in the daily grind, about losing my conscience, my creativity, my ability to appreciate simplicity. (I worry a lot.) The hashtag keeps me centered now.



And I realize the importance of rest, and of simply having a moment to enjoy something. Now I get what my parents were talking about when they said we needed time to Just Be. Now I realize what we as a culture have lost by turning Sunday - half of our too-short weekend and our last hurrah before returning to the work week - into a day for running errands and shopping and hanging out at the mall. I guess football kind of takes back Sunday... depending on how angry your buddies get when the game turns sour.

It doesn't have to be Sunday, either. This is what I drew from the discussion on Organic Faith: we can find moments of Sabbath in each day. I'm taking one now. The Blog (usually) centers me and gives me an outlet to process the days that move too fast otherwise.

How do you #RemembertheSabbath, readers? Or do you at all?

posted from Bloggeroid

game night

Monday night, after dinner at my parents' house, they busted out their birthday present from my sister: Blokus. If you haven't played this game, you should. It's a strategy game with four players and pieces that look like tetris blocks. Basically, you lay down your colored blocks corner-to-corner across the playing board, working around the other three colors, blocking them out sometimes and laying claim to sections of the board. The object is to use up all your pieces, or be left with the fewest squares when there are no moves left.

Family Game Night has been a solid institution throughout my life, and with Family Movie Night and our family dinners they have made up the core of our Family Togetherness Mission.

I know this all sounds a little bit like a TV commercial for the All-American Family circa 1972, but there is an element to our dinners and Togetherness Events that goes a little against the all-American grain, at least in my mind.

Here it is: we are hardcore collectivists. On Movie Nights, the film selection process was usually more of a production than the actual watching of the movie. We very rarely took a vote; typically, we didn't hit play until we had all expressed some level of assent to the same title. A friend of my dad once commented that he had never seen any other family completely stop everything to solve one member's crisis.

And our gaming strategy always had a lot more to do with making the other players laugh than winning.

I realized this just this past Monday night, when two out of four players grew up in other households. My dad and I spent extra time looking for moves that opened up new areas of the board for our own pieces, without cutting off anyone else. And when we realized what was taking so long, we all had a laugh. "Yeah... At my house," J. said, "we would have probably been beating each other up and yelling trying to get our pieces on the board."

It occurred to me briefly that it's easy to "win" against people who are not playing for themselves. Flashback to the last few months of Mr. McKnight's sixth grade social studies class, spent on a capstone group project called (if I'm remembering right) The World Game. We were split up into teams of four, and each team had to create a country, a name and a map and a government, and identify the key resources of this country, and for every element we created we got points. And then we went to war.

The World Game took over our relationships, inside and outside of class. I spent some time making deals with a friend from another "country," that if it came down to our two great nations, that we would call it a draw and rule together.

And in the last week of school, it did indeed come down to our two great nations. My country (Claustinora) was faced with the decision to attack, and we had enough points that we could have taken them cleanly. We could opt to pass on attacking, and if we did, then they would have the option to accept and end the game with peace, or to take us over and win the game.

We spent a long time in deliberations. It took all my persuasive power and the better part of one class period for me to convince my team to pass, that I had made a reliable deal with the enemy to end the game in peace. But they eventually took my word for it.

And my friend was overruled, and we were defeated, and I will never forget the look on Mr. McKnight's face. Disappointment. I was a star; how could I let victory slip away?! We had it in the bag.

To this day I do feel a little bad for letting my fellow Claustinorans down. My friendship with the girl from our conquering country took a bit of a beating; we got over it, but it wasn't looking too good for awhile there. Silly or not, the trust had been broken.

My innocence took a hit that day, too. It was the first time I remember understanding, with clarity, the inequality of persuasion. I remember, once she had convinced me that she was overruled and could not persuade her teammates otherwise, the sudden comprehension that I had done something she couldn't do, and that this was an important difference between us. It was bigger than The World Game. This was middle school, and high school, and the corruption of the world beyond.

But you know what? On principle, I don't regret my decision. I do not regret successfully convincing my countrymen and women not to attack. I'm proud of that. Even at the ripe age of 10 I think I had my priorities in the right order. What I would have won by letting my team attack, by breaking my agreement with my friend, was in no way worth getting the highest grade on the project, and being responsible for breaking a friendship.

Family Togetherness Activities used to be a lot simpler, back when only some of us could talk. Now things are a lot more complicated. We all have different interests and it doesn't go quite as smoothly. But we still operate the same way.

The point of playing the game is not competition, and our choice in games has changed a little because of that. We play Scattergories and Bananagrams and creative strategy games that give us something to think about, or games that just make us laugh. That's the point. Laughing together.

The world is a lot more complicated now, too. It's a lot more complicated than waging war for grades with a point system (which also, in retrospect, is more flawed than I realized at the time). Most people don't operate from a collectivist standpoint; I think if we did, if that was our modus operandi, the world would be better. But I understand. It's hard to wrap our minds around being a collective with millions and billions of people. It's hard to wrap our minds around being a collective with so many different kinds of people, who have different kinds of experiences and want different things.

But we have lost sight of the fact that what affects others affects us, and vice versa. There is some game theory, some butterfly effect, some totally random universe-at-work business involved here. When we categorically ignore what is good for people who are different from us, even if we ignore what they say is good for them, if we have a different idea of "good," we are doing ourselves a disservice. We are doing our collectives, however we define them, whether we believe in them or not -- we are doing a disservice to our communities and to the world we live in.

Give it some thought. What do we win, really, that's important, when we "win" this game? What do we win by letting this one go?

posted from Bloggeroid

all good things: there's a warm wind blowing the stars around

All Good Things is a weekly feature on the blog. It started as a one-hour Sunday night radio show on KSTO St. Olaf radio, featuring feel-good music and 10 highlights from the past week. The show, and its current written form, is brought to you by Clara, Second Set of Baby Steps creator, and my radio co-host Cassie. Sit back and enjoy!

The government may have shut down this week, but All Good Things did not and will not! Even in times of trouble, there is beauty in the world.

1. Song of the week: I'd Really Love To See You Tonight by England Dan & John Ford Coley. I heard this song on the radio on my drive home last Sunday, and it's been the only thing I've wanted to listen to all week. Classic.

2. Care packages. Just saw my girl Liz last weekend, but I got a bulky letter from her this week with a bunch of Kona bottle caps (from Hawaii) in it. This totally counts as a care package for me... Plus I've got a project brewing, one that involves a LOT of bottle caps.

3. Dads. I was out of work sick for most of this week (not a Good Thing) and on Tuesday when I woke up with a black eye I knew just who to call. My dad immediately snapped into action, took me to the doctor and then to the pharmacy and then sat with me at home until J. got home from work. I also got to hang out with him all day yesterday; we watched Castle and got milkshakes and sat down by the creek for awhile. It's nice. Dads are the best.

4. Girls' night out. Last night I went out for dinner at the Melting Pot with J.'s sister, his brother's fiancée, and a couple of friends. A four-course meal starting with cheese fondue and ending with chocolate fondue, with salad and meat we cooked ourselves at the table in between. Delicious. Plus, I do have a thing for really participatory eating experiences. And of course the company was great. It is important to have solid, intelligent, interesting women around.

5. How I Met Your Mother Season 8. This season just came out on DVD this week, so of course J. and I went out and bought it and have been burning through the episodes. SPOILER ALERT: I have been waiting for Robin and Barney to get together since the beginning of time so this season makes me dance gleefully again and again.

6. Sweet & salty caramel dip. Better than the regular old caramel dip, and not quite as sweet. With lemon-soaked apple slices? Unstoppable.

7. Leisurely walks. Since I've been sick this week I have pretty much been lying around not moving much outside of the regular bed-kitchen-bathroom-couch circuit. Finally now that I am starting to feel better J. and I went for a walk around the Newark Reservoir. It's way too hot for October, but the breeze up there is nice and mostly it's just good to get moving again.

8. Email chains. You all have heard of the "three things I'm grateful for today" email chain. This week I also have an email chain about depression and courageous expression with a fellow Delaware writer, and an email chain about company culture, jobs or lack thereof, and other solid new adult topics with some social science research friends from college. Gives me something to look forward to among the technological overload that is my life.

9. Making progress. In the good old "three things I'm grateful for" email chain this week one theme has been making progress, on personal goals and self-improvement and taking care of ourselves. Words of wisdom from the discussion: "You cannot change what you do not measure."

10. R&R. Since I was literally ordered by a medical professional to stay home for three days this week (not my personality type) I decided to make the most of it. Part of the reason I got so sick in the first place is because I didn't get enough rest, pushed myself too hard until I didn't have anything left. So this week I caught up on sleep, watched mundane movies that no one else will watch with me (except my little sister who was also sick this week) and just generally tried to breathe (which was difficult thanks to the deep cough that knocked me out in the first place, but still made a difference). I can't tell you enough how important it is to STAY RESTED! It's fall and flu season, people. Take good care of yourselves!

* * * * * * *
Thanks for joining us this week. I hope it made your Sunday night! Like Second Set of Baby Steps on Facebook at www.Facebook.com/TheBabyStepsSaga, tune in on Wednesday for reflections on new adulthood, and come back next Sunday night for the good things that are going to happen soon! Until then, be kind to each other, and treat yourself well.

resetting

I have spent the better part of the past two days flattened by a terrible cough, which before it flattened me turned me into a bit of a zombie at work on Monday and a few days last week.

I have always known that sickness waits for me to wear myself out, and then at my lowest, tiredest point, it strikes. This is what happened this time: I ran myself into the ground; an upper respiratory infection, perforated eardrum, and OTC drug allergy took me out.

I also know that I am strong, and I construct my life primarily in order to keep it that way: mentally, emotionally, physically. It generally works in my favor.

As my doctor grandfather once told me, "Our bodies are amazing and designed to take care of themselves, for the most part. But sometimes they need a little help."

In my case, "a little help" means that a lot of people get on my case about taking it easy and going to a doctor, and then finally someone with medical authority signs a form basically forcing me to reset for a given amount of time. (I meant to write rest instead of reset, but I decided that I liked the implications of that mistake. So I'm leaving it, and I made it the title too.)

Normally I would be racked with anxiety about the world getting on its merry way (or not-so-merry way, as it seems lately) without me, but this time, surprisingly, I'm enjoying my only commute being between my bed, the shower, the kitchen, and the couch... With a lot of coughing interspersed.

I'm not sure why it's different this time. Maybe I'm just getting old and that means being glad for an excuse to take it easy for once.

Maybe it's because of what I found when I went away this weekend.

I flew out to MSP for the wedding of a really important friend from college, and while I was there got to see a bunch of other really important friends. And through all these conversations, and walking paths my feet know well, passing familiar places and through neighborhoods where people fix bikes in the lawn and leave their front doors open, I felt some pieces click into place that had been missing or out of alignment. You can probably tell that I have not been particularly comfortable with my general circumstances lately... But this weekend I started to finally feel at peace with myself, and suddenly a lot of things just made sense. I made sense to myself.

This all sounds very touchy-feely, but there is undeniable value in having good friendships and family relationships, and in those relationships clarifying our own selves and our lives for and with each other.

I'm not quite sure yet where this all is going, where it came from, what it means... But I'm excited to find out. Maybe Day 3 of resetting is just the right environment to start figuring it out.

posted from Bloggeroid

all good things: flying high

All Good Things is a weekly feature on the blog. It started as a one-hour Sunday night radio show on KSTO St. Olaf radio, featuring feel-good music and 10 highlights from the past week. The show, and its current written form, is brought to you by Clara, Second Set of Baby Steps creator, and my radio co-host Cassie. Sit back and enjoy!

1. Song of the week: Don't Stop Believing by Journey. This is an All Good Things classic, and tops the list today in honor of Cassie and Luke, who played the song at the reception AND danced to it, even though he hates both Journey and dancing, because he loves Cassie and Cassie loves him. (I started yelling as much when he chose the song, and was pointedly ignored, but the romance of this situation is not lost on me.)

(Also, I have to share with you all that I somehow managed to write the name of the song as Don'tCassieBelieving, which strikes me as important for some reason...)

Also, most importantly, never stop believing.

2. Being part of the pool crew at the Y. I have kept up swimming since it made #11 on my list of "things I want to do in life" back in June of last year. The regulars, mostly in their 50s and 60s, have started to recognize me and this week I got into a discussion with some of them about getting old, staying in shape throughout life, staying healthy and disciplined. They are so encouraging to me, even if they are good-naturedly self-deprecating about themselves, and I always tell them, "If I can be as active as you are, I'll be happy!" Just keep swimmin', just keep swimmin'...

3.Conduct Us. This week from Improv Everywhere, a Carnegie Hall orchestra plays for a motley crew of amateur conductors. "Causing scenes of chaos and joy," indeed!

4. The Fault In Our Stars by John Green. I had to wait a couple of weeks to get this book from the library, and I started reading it on the way to Minnesota on Friday. I have to tell you, it is PHENOMENAL. I blazed through almost 250 pages of it on my four-hour travels, cried on every plane, in every airport, about every other chapter. A sad, but beautiful, true book. The love in this book is just the most profound, real love of almost any book I've ever read. Also, I didn't realize initially but it's written by John Green the YouTube sensation. A multi talented man.

5. Reunions! Over the past three days, I have got to reunite with my sister, more college classmates and friends than I can count on both my hands, not to mention almost all of my inner circle. Pretty amazing, and so good to catch up and just be with these people. I do know a lot of very loving and generous people, who put me up and welcomed me smiling with huge lingering hugs, shared drinks and food and shampoo. Plus, it is good and interesting to remember parts of myself that don't get a lot of airtime in my new life and my new home in Delaware. Maybe I'll bring some of them back with me, or maybe I'll just visit them every now and then.

6. ...and making new friends too! I met a ridiculous number of new friends this weekend, starting with Cayenne the dog. Other new people I met included Emily, Jose, Francesca, Jordan, Kaitlyn, Emily, Kristy, Mitch (who, it turns out, is from Delaware originally), Ginny (who I have been hearing about since freshman year) and Matt, a few St. Olaf classmates I had not officially met or spoken to before, Tim and Megan, Neil and Jill, Brent, and Henrietta the cat. I was particularly and pleasantly surprised at how quickly I felt some solid rapport with so many of these people (and animals -- especially Cayenne) and that I was legitimately sad to be leaving them with no guarantee that we will meet again.

7. The Forster-Brotens! (Known to fans, readers, and former listeners as Cassie and Luke!) I am giddy, ecstatic, smitten, proud and honored about this latest union. And I think they are probably even happier than I am.

8. The wedding itself.I have desperately tried to avoid making this entire list wedding-related, so it can be more accessible, but I think the happy couple deserves more than one number this week. Some highlights: hanging out and goofing off with the girls while helping Cassie get ready; the look on dad's face when he saw the bride in her wedding dress for the first time (we all lost it at that point); Cassie's old stuffed puppy dressed in his wedding best: dress pants, a tailored collared shirt and vest; said stuffed puppy hanging out with Grandpa all night (the handsomest men in attendance); a beautiful ceremony in the Rose Garden, short and sweet and unassuming and intentional; the bride and groom's running commentary through dinner; dancing with wild abandon; and of course our reason for gathering trumps all.

9. Uplifting flight crew speeches. Lead flight attendant of my first return flight today gave a parting speech highlighting achievements of fellow passengers, and finished it off by telling us to be kind to one another, treat each other well, and take care of ourselves.

10. Coming home again. No matter how good the trip is or how I'm feeling about my home itself, there's nothing like a homecoming.

* * * * * * *
Thanks for joining us this week. I hope it made your Sunday night! Like second set of baby steps on Facebook at www.Facebook.com/TheBabyStepsSaga, tune in on Wednesday for reflections on new adulthood, and come back next Sunday night for the good things that are going to happen soon! Until then, be kind to each other, and treat yourself well.

posted from Bloggeroid

guest post: the mission of moving forward

“The point, what I've got it down to, is there are only two questions worth asking: 

Why are we here, and what should we do about it while we are?”

– John Lloyd

Particularly strong during the mysterious and often overwhelming years of early adulthood, I sense within me an ache with an eager pulse, demanding that I discover what the hell it is I'm going to do with the rest of my life. Back when I was first asked this question of vocation, I recall my eight-year-old self considering gas station attendant a worthy calling (candy being the main motivator). Then, after years of school, it evolved from a question about work into a quandary of passion. I felt the need for a calling or at least a path that would eventually lead me there. So I went to a college that claimed it launched people into the real world with real skills, majored in political science, graduated, and then...splash!

As a member of the current class of twenty-something's spelunking my way through these years, this question of calling/splashing has plunged itself deep within me since I left St. Olaf. A month after graduation I began working for a large healthcare software company in my home state of Wisconsin. I found things to like about the work and travel involved. I felt challenged, enjoyed my colleagues and put in good hours with good output. And then it started to feel stale. Would working here for five years lead me to happiness and fulfillment? I thought not and decided to make my first major detour of adulthood. After two years of full-time work, I quit my job in order to travel aimlessly through the Western U.S. and Asia for an indeterminate amount of time.


I'm currently a month into that trip and although it still can feel ostentatious when I describe what I'm doing to friends, family and strangers, I think it was the right move for me. To get away and exist in an unorganized way, divorced from the routine of an adulthood I had barely experienced, is totally worth the lack of income or certainty in what exactly it is I'm accomplishing each day. I know that “taking a year off” is classic Stuff White People Like and I decided against maintaining a blog of my own after more than a few friends jibed, “Oh, you're not going to start a blog about finding yourself on the road, are you?” But the fact is not having anything to do other than what I choose to do has jarred me out of the way I was thinking for the last two years. It is affording me the time needed to reflect, reconsider and reengage in the mission of moving forward.

The first step was to accept that I am who I am and the world is what it is. I have made the conclusion for myself that the healthiest way to consider existence is as a collaboration between two basic elements - chance and choice. Sam Harris explains in his book Free Will that “you can do what you decide to do — but you cannot decide what you will decide to do.” His basic premise is that although we may have the ability to make choices, the situations we experience and how we arrive at them, as well as why we make the decisions we do, is all determined by a chaotic web of outside factors that we definitely do not choose or create. Chaos, though we would rather have order, is the stage on which we must act. It was by chance that at a certain time, in a certain place and with a certain set of circumstances, genes and socioeconomic factors, all of us became a living, breathing element of humanity. And this “luck of the draw” has a major influence on everything that follows. Being born a healthy, white, male citizen of the United States in 1988 meant a far different set of future opportunities than what one experiences if they are born an ethnic minority, lacking basic resources, in a time and place mired in violence and/or famine.


The element of chance continues to play a significant role throughout our lives, but I still think that the ability to choose A or B means we still have some power to construct our own identities. Choices we make are constantly altering our life's trajectory, and so with everything each of us does there is a slight bend and ripple to who we become.

Since chance is not under anyone's control, choice seems to be the element to consider closely. Choice is how we navigate through the dizzying amount of options the modern world provides us. Choice determines whether we talk to people we know via our smart phones when we find ourselves in social situations with people whom we don't know. Choices make things happen that would not have otherwise happened.

Choices we make are also vastly unequal in importance and differ in the level of conscious thought we employ while making them. Each of us engages in the repeated, physical tasks of daily life – choosing what to eat, what to wear, what to buy, when to set the alarm, or whether to set an alarm. There are also the more fluid and gradual choices that manifest into our goals, personalities and philosophies – deciding how to use our time and who to use it with, what to learn, what to believe, where to focus our energy and passion, when to move on to something else – decisions that we tinker with over an entire existence.

We all make millions of choices during our lifetimes and most of them are never considered again (many of them are not even consciously considered at the moment they are made – our subconscious brain is just that good). You will forget most of them, yet some choices will be so pivotal that the person you were set to become is completely rerouted into someone else. When I dropped I.B. chemistry in high school, it was unlikely that I would try again in college, and furthermore that I would ever become a physician. We all think about choices in the past we would like to change, imagining the different ways it would alter our current state. We think about the choices we can make now that will lead to the future we hope we hope to create. We always want to make the right choice, even though the amount of options available to the average citizen of the Western world makes the right choice harder to find and even more difficult to accept as the correct one once you have made it. Perhaps life is easier with a penchant for minimalism, eliminating the clutter of choices that are not truly important to happiness and are merely taking up time that you could be using to do things that actually matter to you.


I recently read the story of a man named Arthur Fields who spent fifty years taking pictures of people as they walked past him on the O'Connell bridge in Dublin, Ireland. He would take candid pictures of unsuspecting pedestrians and then attempt to sell them the instant color print, hopefully making enough money to buy film for the next day. This is how he supported his family and the reason he got out of bed each morning. Taking pictures was clearly what he loved and wanted to do. His sons claim he never even went on a vacation. He didn't take his camera to exotic locations, let alone find a different street in Dublin, for a span of time that resulted in over 180,000 photos. It would seem that this man had no second-thoughts about his choice in vocation, nor any reason to try something else. For fifty years, Arthur's career was immovable and unchanging.

I wonder if we all need to make a similar choice in order to feel fulfilled with how we use our allotted time on earth. Committing in such a complete way is a tricky decision to make. Where do we start? Most people have hobbies that inspire their quest for knowledge and skills, but there are also the jobs we do that absorb the most productive part of the day, some of which may have nothing to do with our actual passions. Can the thing you love also be the work you do? Clearly some people make this a reality, but still so many others are unable to find that happy balance. I don't know how to distill the fascinations I have with music, photography and writing into as pure a path as Arthur's yet, but this is what we all seem to be looking for as we drift through periods of employment and hobby. I think we are all determined to make our lives meaningful and that usually means finding a focus; being great at something is earned only after making many choices to first of all become better.


I visited Glacier National Park last week as part of one of the main goals of my trip to visit the majority of the national parks in the western U.S. and to strengthen my photography with the assistance of gorgeous landscapes and night skies unpolluted by light. Although my vehicle and current home, my mom's Roadtrek camper van, is both large and ornery about going up steep inclines, I decided to give Going-To-The-Sun Road a shot. Many switchbacks later, I made it to Logan's Pass with a few hours of daylight left. Feeling triumphant, I disembarked and found a hike to an overlook of Hidden Lake. I took to the path without pause. I counted the many people I passed who were descending back to the parking lot, their faces appearing pleased with what they had worked to see. I said hello to them as they walked by and they responded in kind. I passed other people, some much older than I, who were walking up the path with me. There were still others who had decided to stop halfway, laying on rocks, looking out over Logan's Pass and marveling at the beautiful scenery that had been carved by glaciers millions of years earlier.

When I reached the overlook, I joined others who were taking pictures and enjoying the view of the lake and the receding peaks beyond it. I watched as two young men judged a sign pointing to a further hike down to the water below, which stated that it was “very steep” and to “use caution.” They shrugged at each other confidently and continued on anyway. On the way back I joined a group of people taking pictures of a baby mountain goat and it's mother who were munching on grass a few feet from the trail. I noticed one man who I had passed going up retreating back down the trail to encourage his wife, who had decided to sit down short of the overlook, to come gawk at the goats with him. As I reached the parking lot I heard an old man say to his wife that the view was “so scenic and visually stunning – why do we need to walk up that mountain and sweat to enjoy what we can see right here!”

And so I noticed then that even on a single path there were still many choices to make. Even when there is a destination, something halfway there might feel better. Even when there is a sign telling you it's steep ahead, maybe it's still worth following. Even if a path is there in front of you, perhaps it isn't worth taking if you appreciate the view from where you are. And even when life seems vexing and the path isn't clearly marked and you wish you knew what to do, you always have the ability to live in the present moment and enjoy the small steps forward.


The lesson of mindfulness taught by the Buddha is very useful when I find myself wanting something to strive for and can feel that acute, aching anxiety because I don't know exactly what it is yet. To be mindful is to simply appreciate that you are alive, connected to the things happening around you and to be present and focused amongst it all. Rather than being lost in one cacophonous head-space, treating the world as an entity that you are a part of - rather than a separate actor in - can feel like a purer form of existence.

By practicing mindfulness through meditation and yoga, or at any time of day – standing in line, sitting on a bus, or in those moments when you feel overwhelmed by all the things you have to do - you can actually choose to have a more peaceful outlook. I can choose to be me right now instead of thinking about a non-existent future-me. This leads to far less time worrying and far more time doing what feels good. I realize that a calling isn't necessarily something you can choose first and achieve second. And I think that if I feel happy (or unhappy, which is a necessary part of life) with what I'm doing now and have a sense that I'm moving in a positive direction, I can accept that I have no idea what I want to be doing in 2018, 2024, or 2050 (if I'm even here at that point).

And with all the chance and choice involved from now until then, it would always be guesswork.

* * * * * * *

Jordan is a friend and fellow St. Olaf Class of 2011 grad. He was born and raised in Wausau, WI. His favorite job was the summer he delivered pizza. Kurt Vonnegut is the reason he loves reading and writing.

all good things: on the run

All Good Things is a weekly feature on the blog. It started as a one-hour Sunday night radio show on KSTO St. Olaf radio, featuring feel-good music and 10 highlights from the past week. The show, and its current written form, is brought to you by Clara, Second Set of Baby Steps creator, and my radio co-host Cassie. Sit back and enjoy!

1. Song of the week: I Could Get Used To This by Treva Blomquist. This song came up on my Eva Cassidy Pandora station this week and gave me pause.

2. Ed Sheeran. I have liked this guy for awhile, but after seeing him live on Wednesday night I am so impressed. He's a great musician with a great stage personality. It was just him on stage and he built his songs with a looper, to this huge climax and gets the whole crowd involved... Phenomenal. Also a lot of his lyrics are really jaw-dropping.

3. The Wilmington Polish Festival. The latest on Wilmington's arts, food and culture scene, down on the Riverfront. Pierogies, kielbasa, Polish beer... Jelly donuts and chrusciki and golubki. Yum!

4. Brandywine Park. My roommate and I finished the week with a run through Brandywine Park on Friday evening, right before it got dark. The path winds along, over and around the river, surrounded by trees and old bridges and other stone structures. And with the sunset, gorgeous and peaceful.

5. The annual LCS 5k for Hunger. This is one of the first activities I did after moving to Wilmington, and every year it is one of the things I look forward to most. It's a walk/run sponsored by Lutheran Community Services, and the proceeds go to feeding the hungry. The weather is generally the kind of beautiful you almost can't believe, it's at Rockford Park which I love, and this year we raised $44,000-something for the cause! Plus, everyone has the most positive attitude. I really do love Lutherans...

6. Avocado and fried egg on rice. I've been trying to keep a few servings of cooked brown rice in the fridge lately, for emergencies, since it takes 45 minutes to cook it... Picked up a few delicious avocados last week at Trader Joe's, which is fortunate since one of my favorite quick-and-easy lunches/dinners is rice, with a tiny bit of almond milk or olive oil poured over top, a runny fried egg slapped on top and avocado slices all around. Grind some salt and pepper on top and you have one of the simplest, most satisfying meals that I eat these days.

7. Apple picking. We went apple picking yesterday, with our fams. The apples this week were golden delicious, red delicious, and jonagolds which are divine. The weather was lovely, and it started raining right when it was time to leave. (The orchard closed at 5:00 and it started raining at 5:10. Can't get timing much more perfect than that!) Apple picking is always a fun activity, and when you finish it off with fresh cider donuts it can't be beat!

8. Birthdays. Lots of September birthdays: two of J.'s uncles, his sister, his dad and a couple of his dad's friends; both of my parents; plus a bunch of other people. Makes for a lot of parties, and a number of mass parties which are an even bigger event.

9. Coffee table photo books. I discovered one of those big heavy hardcover photo books at J.'s parents' house today called Wilmington: On the Move. I don't know why it's called that, but it has a lot of lovely full-color spreads from all over the area, with mini history and culture lessons to accompany them.

10. International Day of Peace. Yesterday was World Gratitude Day and also the International Day of Peace. If you ask me, peace is something we could use a heck of a lot more of these days. Maybe I'll celebrate Peace Day all the time, even when it's not September 21.

* * * * * * *
Like second set of baby steps on Facebook at www.facebook.com/theBabyStepsSaga! New posts show up there first, plus other articles about post-grad life, plus teasers and other important information. Thanks for reading! Tune in next Sunday for more All Good Things, and come back Wednesday for a guest blog from a friend who quit his job to "travel aimlessly" for awhile.

conquering the places we live

A friend of mine spent her first year out of college living in Queens, doing social work with the Good Shepherd Volunteer program. She didn't love New York the way some people do; of course there were things she liked about it, but she always kind of knew that she would ultimately end up back in the Midwest and live most of her life there.

So she finished her first year and I was hoping so hard that she would stay a little longer on the East Coast. Give the city a second chance.

And she did. She moved to Brooklyn and enjoyed doing the hipster thing for awhile. I went up once to visit her in the second year and we had a really nice time. Sitting in a cafe called the Milk Bar, we talked about what makes people come to New York, and what makes them stay.

She said she stayed because she felt like New York had given her a hard time in the first year, and that she couldn't leave until she had "conquered New York." I laughed and said good luck.

I didn't make it up to see her again for the next few months, and then suddenly after some time had passed I got a postcard from San Francisco saying, "I got mugged in Oakland, but I still think I really want to move here."

A little while later I heard through the grapevine that she had left New York for good, and soon after that I got a postcard from Montana that said, "I realized I never told you I was leaving New York. I'm going to try my luck on the West Coast. I'm moving to San Francisco."

We haven't talked about it, but I have a strange feeling about the whole thing. I don't get the impression that she "conquered" New York, at least not in the way she meant it when she first said it to me; but I also don't get the impression that she gave up, and let the city win. My feeling is that it was some unusual version of stalemate. I picture the two of them standing nose to nose, like in an old Western, shaking hands. My friend saying squarely, "I win, New York. I'm not going to find what I was looking for here." And New York replying, "It's been an honor, a good fight. I'm gonna let you go easy."

* * * * * * *

My current roommate wasn't wild about the house we're living in; it was too old, and too "city" (she's a rolling hills kind of girl), and too close to the bad part of town.

At the time we signed the lease, she was dating a Delaware boy. When he found out we were choosing a house in Little Italy, he said, "Oh, my dad's best friend used to live in Little Italy. I pretty much grew up there. What street is it on?" And when he found out the street, "That's the street! What block? What number?"

Turns out, it was the same house. The first time he came over he said, "I know this knocker." It's a classic door knocker, with a classic Italian last name engraved on it. "This is the house. I helped my dad remodel the downstairs bathroom. He planted that fig tree!" He ran outside, plucked a fig off the tree and bit into it. "There's a picture of me on the fridge at home standing in this kitchen!"

So she felt better about the house, and I felt less guilty about muscling her into it. We went out in the area, walked to restaurants and bars, drove to the ones that were a little farther away but still close, because we are in the city. She was OK with the house because he was OK with the house, and she was OK with him (to put it one way).

But then, a few months later, it ended, and we still had the lease. And now the house has ghosts in it. The kitchen, along with the ghosts of past dinners and desserts and especially casseroles, is home to a ghost like an old photograph of a little Italian boy standing in the corner, smiling.

* * * * * * *

I am stubborn. I have always been stubborn. Before I'd even started school I was tethering myself to chairs I didn't want to get out of, a tactic borrowed from a girl I saw in a movie once. I have sort of learned to pick my battles by this point in my life, but still I don't give up on things easily, and I have been known on more than one occasion to hold on a little too long and a little too hard to something it would be better to give up on.

I've been thinking a lot about this "conquering" thing lately, because I've hit another wave of underdoggery, of feeling bested by my circumstances. I have developed a bad habit of remembering things I haven't seen in awhile, and automatically assuming that they were among my worthless stolen goods. And by "worthless," as I'm sure you can guess, I actually mean invaluable. I am perpetually suspicious. My heart beats faster when I miss a phone call, because I am sure that the only reason for a phone call is an urgent report of bad news. I don't trust my city or my neighborhood anymore, and that makes me angry and sad. Actually, there's a lot I don't trust anymore.

Lately I've been itching for a change. I'm taking stock of "for rent" signs in different neighborhoods, decorating the walls, and last weekend I finally cut my hair... But I'm not quite there yet. I can't bring myself to cut and run when my stock drops, as it were; I have to stick around until I'm leaving with a fair trade, where I come out richer than I went in, in at least one way. And oddly, not at the expense of my "opponent." I feel no inclination to cheat. I am a stubborn believer in win-win situations, and if I find myself in a lose-lose situation or a situation with a clear winner and loser I'm convinced that the players just didn't try hard enough. Sometimes, if I'm lucky, I can even make a win-win out of a game with an opponent who doesn't care to try for it.

So you can see how I put myself in these impossible positions. It's just how I do things.

* * * * * * *

You've heard this story before. I have a friend who went to my high school in Upstate New York, who got offered a gateway dream job out in Seattle. He messaged me to ask for advice on starting something new and completely unfamiliar, all by himself.

I must have given him good advice, or maybe he's just incredibly smart/tough/has a really high risk tolerance, because he now ranks among the most fun, the most successful, most interesting. He is eternally positive, always doing and seeing something new and wonderful. He has thrown himself into everything that has come to face him, and it puffs up my chest just knowing that I know this guy.

I don't think we have to be CEOs, owners of beautiful houses, in the best shape of our lives, season ticket holders, and invited to all the best parties to be successful conquistadors. All I want is not to get stuck. I need to keep moving forward. I may not have much in the way of liquid assets, but when I look inside at what I have at the end of every day I want to feel like a richer, more interesting, better equipped human being, with something left over to pass on.

* * * * * * *
Like second set of baby steps on Facebook at www.Facebook.com/theBabyStepsSaga! New posts show up there first, plus other articles about post-grad life, plus teasers and other important information. Thanks for reading! Tune in on Sunday night for this week's All Good Things list, and next Wednesday for a guest post about being a "new adult."