white bean & kale soup with parsnips

I have had a bunch of kale in the refrigerator and a hankering for some white bean soup lately, but every recipe I looked up seemed boring. Some featured a tomato base, which I didn't want. And so I did what I usually do: I gave up on the recipe and let my tastebuds guide me. The parsnips and the tahini add a nutty, warm flavor to the dish. And, as you'll notice, this is a true-to-the-season winter soup. Add a splash of red wine vinegar or lemon juice at the end to give it a crisp finish:

INGREDIENTS
1 C dry white beans, soaked overnight (or 2 cans fresh)
2 bay leaves
2 Tbs. olive oil
1 large parsnip, cut in quartered rounds
3 medium potatoes, cubed
2 tsp dried sage
3 cloves garlic, minced
1-2 C chopped kale, stems removed
2 Tbs tahini
1/4 C soy creamer or soymilk

In a medium soup pot, cover beans with water and add the bay leaves. Simmer for 1 hour. If using dried beans, drain the water once and replace it with fresh water about half-way through, to reduce gas effect. If using canned beans, cook for only 30 minutes.

With about 25 minutes left for the beans, pan fry the potatoes and parsnips in olive oil and sage. Set on medium heat and cover, stirring occasionally. After 10 minutes, add the garlic. Once the garlic is soft, pour a splash of water in the pan and add the kale, covering once again. Steam for 10 minutes more. Once kale is tender, stir everything into the pot with the beans. Add the soy creamer and tahini and stir until creamy and smooth. Add more water, if desired.


We served this with some homemade wheat bread and some dipping oil with herbs sent to us from my brother and his partner. It was delicious, and I hope you enjoy it! Buen provecho!

Post script: After I made this, Jen sent me a recipe for Polenta with White Beans, Braised Kale and Roasted Pears. YUM!

possibility.

new topic, lots of time to get going on it.

i like to start my assignments by looking up the definition and etymology. not that i don't know what the word means, but sometimes we get lost in the various attachments we have to a word. it's good to start at the beginning.

possibility obviously comes from "possible" meaning able, but not certain to happen. Wiktionary says to also look at "power." so that in itself says a lot. power is not the same as action. ability is key.

(interjection: i'm listening to NPR's year review of music, and i just heard a great song by K'naan, who is a canadian rapper. normally, i would not like rap, but i liked his song, "take a minute", a lot. kind of a lesson in learning to welcome new possibilities and not to shut the door on opportunities.)

so part of the assignment this month is to look at where we squash our imagination and allow our expectations to be mundane. if the doorbell rings, we think postal worker, not long-lost friend. we set ourselves up for the ordinary, and we get comfortable with it.

the next part is, of course, to challenge yourself to do something to which you've said "i can't." it's hard for me to think about this, especially now, i think. i feel somewhat paralyzed by my financial situation (i.e. unemployment) and i'm not sure how to approach this. however, i'd like to tiptoe toward this challenge first by recalling the big goals that i have accomplished in the past, and to reflect on how i made those things happen.

i immediately think back to my time in spain as well as in the backcountry. those are the two things of which i am most proud. and i suppose i thought at some point leading up to them that they were impossible. my mom probably remembers one night the summer before i left for spain when i decided it wasn't possible to go. i was worried about money and logistics. and i probably started to worry about what it was going to be like to live away from home for a year. with the backcountry, i was worried that my schedule wouldn't line up, and that i was making a mistake in passing up my opportunity with Rochester AmeriCorps. maybe it wasn't a good idea to go live in the woods for 5 months. how was i to know then?

some people think it would be impossible to live in the woods for 5 months. some people couldn't manage to go to a country where they didn't know the language. some people wouldn't dare get on a plane! some people think it's impossible to bike commute during rochester's winter. or year-round, for that matter. some people think it would be impossible to give up cheese, to be vegan. (this is my pep-talk. i do impossible things!)

some things i think are "impossible":
1. having a regular yoga practice at home.
2. fasting. (this may seem strange, but i have weird fears of going without food...)
3. traveling around the world, for more than one month.
4. working in the backcountry again.
5. playing the guitar well
6. knowing more than 3 languages
7. being a professor, or getting a ph.d.
8. being a massage therapist or yoga teacher
9. living for more than a year in another country.
10. avoiding the use of gerunds.

these are some pretty big "impossibles" to make possible, especially by january 19th. but i think i can manage the first two by then. the most important lesson to take away from this month's theme is that impossible things take time to realize, and that small steps taken every day will lead you there. i once walked 70 miles to get half my sins forgiven. i hiked 20 miles in a day with blisters on my heels. the next day, i climbed a 10,700 ft peak. i jumped off cliffs into freezing cold water. i've gotten on planes & trains alone, and i've biked through the snow. all of these things took various types of steps. long, confident strides, small tiptoes, giant leaps, and near-misses. poco a poco...

the most important thing i've learned from this recap is that all of these goals were accomplished because i became obsessed with accomplishing them. i KNEW that these were things i had to do, and i did them. i knew i would never regret them, and always remember them. or at least i'd have some good stories to tell...

here's to the impossible, and to making it all possible.

cheers.

job search: part 6?

a quick update: i haven't heard back from either of the jobs that i'm semi-hopeful about.

but.


i just applied for aNOTHER job that i could potentially be hired for. a woman that i know through church is the assistant director of reslife at St. John Fisher College in a suburb of the ROC, and she wants to hire me as a Residence Director. yikes! It would be a lot of fun, but a LOT of work. and i'd have to live there. meh. at least i'd have a job! we'll see where this job search eventually takes me!

cute xtracycle video

not big enough b/w fixed from Kate Oshea on Vimeo.

a continuacion....

So in my last entry concerning my job search, I explained the many hoops I've had to jump through to get this job with the Villa. Where we last left the saga, I was waiting for the hiring freeze to melt.

Meanwhile...

...a woman who runs a research project at the University of Rochester, who has my resume thanks to my friend Brianne, has "emailed" me because she wants to interview me. Two weeks ago. I know she never sent it, or sent it to the wrong address, because I do not have any emails from her. Now, if I do the math correctly, at the time she "emailed" me, I had just been told by the Villa that for them to hire me, I would need to wait...indefinitely. Therefore, had I received said email, I could have returned the call and maybe had a job by now.

Who knows.

I applied online to the research position, which could lead to me traveling several times to the Dominican Republic to conduct interviews about smoking cessation. Surprisingly, I'm very well qualified for the position, which is probably why the woman had wanted to interview me before she posted the position. But now it's posted and I am very very nervous about getting it. Because, I have always wanted this job over the other one, I just didn't think I had a chance at it. So here's my chance.

And it makes me wonder if all of these hoops were put here for a reason. I believe in those sorts of signs...

'tis the season.

Winter is hard on me.

Yesterday was gray and cold and rainy, and I didn't have the energy to leave the house. Even with the prospect of seeing my amazing teenage ladies at Teen City and helping them with a zine, and the promise that I would be there to pay for a planner that one of them picked up for me, I just couldn't make myself leave. At the thought of that bike ride in the dark (at 4:30!) I nearly cried. So I stayed home, let Adam cook dinner on his own, and read in a little bundle in bed. It's safe to say I have a combination of S.A.D. and P.M.S. that does not mix. After a nice warm dinner of lasagna with Adam, I finally worked up the energy to go for a quick walk with him to the Swamee Mart to look for cherry pie filling. We came back with only beer. Regardless of our findings, it felt good just to be outside for a bit.

It's hard to not have a job. Even in an employment position, I still need help figuring out what to do and how to spend my time. Now, when there's nothing to do, I sometimes feel paralyzed. I putz around the house, cleaning things, doing load after load of laundry, and cook a lot of food. It depresses me beyond belief to watch my savings account drain away as I make three loan payments. All the while, I'm just waiting for the Villa to call me. It's somewhat excruciating.

But each day is a little different. Today I woke up early(er) and managed to do the dishes that I had avoided yesterday. I read some more, because Barbara Kingsolver is good to my soul, and then I made sure I washed my face and brushed my teeth (something I don't always manage to do these days...). I rarely shower every other day, but I'm less concerned about that. When I do it feels good. That's about all I care about.

Like I said, today has been different. After breakfast, Adam and I went to the library and the public market. I bought 3 acorn squash, a stalk of Brussels sprouts, two bunches of celery, broccoli and apples. Still nothing to make a pie, but I think I'll make it to the store before long for those cherries I've been craving.

The point of all this is that I haven't been well. Despite doing things to take care of myself, like going to yoga, continuing to ride my bike, eating good food and getting lots of sleep, I still am unsatisfied with the state of my life. And that in itself is puzzling, because I couldn't be happier to be with Adam. It just goes to show you that having a great relationship does not solve all your problems. I've always known that, but I hope my being melancholy doesn't make Adam think I'm unhappy with us. I just can't seem to get everything else in my life to feel as good. That's all.

And yet, today, as the sun shines brighter than it did the day before, and as I've managed to give it a good start, I feel as though there is still a bit of clarity to my life that I sometimes forget. I've got my Christmas music playing, I've managed to sit down and put my thoughts into words, and I've got some inspiration sitting next to me: a book from the library.

I checked out a book called The Urban Homestead, and though it has a lot of information I already know, it defines a general purpose of my life that is uplifting. I truly believe in urban living. I think it's easier to be kind to the earth when we tread as little of it as possible. I believe that we all need to reinhabit the cities and quit building massive beige houses surrounded by nothing--a natural world those suburbanites rarely explore. In the city there are beautiful big old houses that are waiting for multiple families to enjoy, including the one in which Adam and I live. There are spacious backyards--spacious enough for small gardens and bug hunting. There are buses and more and more bike lanes and walkable neighborhoods and natural food stores with more options for cruelty-free foods than your average suburban supermarket. And there are gobs of fresh produce on display in a dozen farmers markets around the city. There are cafes that you can walk to, parks that are just around the corner, and trails that remain hidden in the center of urban jungles. I know I'm mostly talking about Rochester, but I know for certain these resources exist throughout urban America.

It is exhilarating to think about the ways that Adam and I are urban activists. We are full-time cyclists, vegan animal rights activists, and advocates of natural and organic living. We have vermicompost and a rabbit who works as a composter as well. We have a garden that will be busy next summer, and we are growing some herbs and other plants indoors. Unlike Betsy and Charlie, we haven't gotten into preserving, canning and fermenting, but I'm hoping that will also come with the garden next year. I spend a lot of time making natural cleaning supplies that are cheap and smell like tea tree oil, not fake lemon-lime mixed with bleach. We buy our food at the farmers market or the food cooperative (though we're known to buy discounted soy milk and pickles at Tops). We go to a progressive, liberal church that values social justice above just about everything else.

All this is meant to explain that I'm very happy with the effort I put into every day of my life, and to reiterate (to myself) that I do a whole hell of a lot to make this world a little better each day. I sometimes forget that these things require mental and physical effort (especially biking in the cold) that can, at times, leave me feeling exhausted and disenchanted.

But I'm proud of the way I live out my values, and reading about the things I can do to make a difference revive my spirit in a way lasagna and snuggling under the blankets can't. I'm happy that Adam and I have time now to put our house and lives in order. I'm glad that I have a little time to ease into this next phase of my life, to relax and sift through old things and make a place for myself in my new home. I shouldn't be so afraid of having a blank calendar, and I should make the most of this down time.

Sometimes I think the only point of the winter holidays is to have something to cheer us during these long nights and cold days. It's amazing what some Christmas lights and music will do to my tired little spirit. The excitement of the first snow and the comfort of a warm fire ease us through these harsh months. Adding warmth and spice to out food and drinks mean adding pizazz to an otherwise bland winter spread. We know how to make it through.

My mom keeps talking about how we need to make our own traditions, and that we need to be responsible for things happening, since she can no longer be behind the magic. It's true that without my family's initiative, I'm unmotivated to celebrate and prepare for holidays the way I'm used to them. When Zoe told me she and Jack were getting a tree, I was shocked, because it occurred to me I hadn't given a thought to how Adam and I would decorate the house. In fact, I'm quick to write off the holidays as frivolous and not worth the effort. Sometimes it's too difficult to get past my divergent religious beliefs. But there's nothing like some holiday lights shining out onto the street to warm the soul. Adam and I noticed that when we returned home to see the one strand of lights he managed to get to work shining out through the dark night through our kitchen window. This really is a magical time of year, and I want to be a part of it.

compas

As I finished that last entry, I was thinking about the origin of the word compassion, and I was reminded of a flamenco term: compas. I didn't remember what it was, so I looked it up.

That description is perhaps a bit too technical, so let me break it down. Compas is the strict beat of flamenco music. Those who know flamenco know that it generally uses an unusual time signature, that of 6/8, somewhat like a waltz but doubled. Sometimes they do 12/8, which is like a 6/8 plus 3/4. It is beautiful and eerie and completely mesmerizing. I remember sitting in a crowded bar in Sevilla, drunk on sangria and trying to clap along to the complicated beat of compas. That beat is born into native Spaniards, but as I was a transplanted Americana, I couldn't quite figure it out. Maybe that's not a very flattering description, but believe me, it was an ethereal experience.

The point of all this is that compas is the beating heart of flamenco. Just as the heart of our existence is our compassion for others. And yet again, I am enamored with the poetry of Latin.

compassion: reprise.

December's theme at my church is, of course, Compassion. Of course, because what better time to be compassionate than the holidays, when we are compelled to reunite with family and to help those less fortunate during this time of celebration. I already wrote an entry with this theme, but I will be taking this in a different direction--or at least I think I will. It's difficult to keep from weaving the issue of mercy for animals and the generic idea of compassion, since animal rights activists and theorists view veganism and fighting for animal welfare as the most "compassionate" way of life. However, as the guiding questions explain, our church is more interested in personal compassion. The one homework assignment is as follows:

Find a way to be more compassionate with yourself. Do at least one compassionate act for yourself.

I suppose in order to allow us to dig deeper into this assignment, they include four "core" questions. These are:
1. What idol is undermining your compassion?
2. How are you called to be a person of compassion right now?
3. What were you taught about compassion while growing up?
4. What was it like to allow the whole world into your lungs?

There is more explanation for each of these included. For example, "idolatry" can mean racism, nationalism, Republicanism, consumerism, etc. And sometimes we spend a lot of time being angry about these things instead of holding people with these values with compassion. So it's more like, what is getting in the way of you treating all beings with compassion? The last question is in reference to a Loving Kindness Meditation included in our packet. This meditation is a Buddhist practice of holding individuals and the whole world in our hearts as we work to spend more of our lives regarding the world with loving-kindness. I haven't done it yet, but hopefully I'll have some time to reflect before my next Soul Matters group.

Initially, I know that this work is going to be a little hard for me, since I generally am least compassionate with myself. I tend not to forgive myself for missteps, and I allow myself to feel guilty of, unworthy of and belittled by my life's choices. It's sometimes hard to be kind to myself when all I want is to do the best I can. And when I feel like I'm not doing all I can do, I feel like a failure. Of course I've recognized this over the years, usually because my mom pointed it out, and I've worked toward forgiving myself and giving myself time and space to accomplish what I want. But in the back of my head I feel like forgiving myself is just a cop-out for not finishing what I set out to do. No matter what I do, even if I tell myself that the work I do is important, it is not enough.

There is a lot of material to read in the packet, so before I go further in my reflection, I'll read through that.

In an important related note, I've started going to yoga regularly and that is a great place for me to find out where I am punishing or pushing myself too hard. Whether mentally or physically, yoga is a space where you can't hide from yourself for long. It's better just to open your heart, mind and body and let things flow through you, rather than fight the demons. Yes, I think yoga and compassion go nicely together...

to be continued...

I got my social security card on Tuesday, at least two days before I expected it. Hooray! I went in Wednesday to get my driver's license. Except for the malfunctioning camera, I was able to get it no problem. I called the Villa's HR department to give them my new license number, triumphant.

HR called me back. They REALLY want me to work for them. Unfortunately, they've just entered a hiring freeze in the agency and can't hire anyone for at least a week or two. BLAH.

So I have to keep waiting, and keep looking, and hope that I don't have to go back to Starbucks just to make it through the holidays.

To be continued...

sweet relief.

I never ended up blogging about last Thursday, but it was the worst day I've had in a while. I got up semi-early to head out to the social security office, only to wait for two hours for them to tell me that they misplaced my new card in the mail (something about leaving the "drive" off the end of my address). That meant that they would have to RESEND my application and hopefully the card would come in 5-10 business days. I almost cried on the spot. But I didn't. I cried out on the street, while I talked to Adam on my cell phone. He gave me a little pep talk, and, encouraged by the SS clerk's suggestion to give the DMV my SS card receipt, I biked on over to the DMV downtown.

Turns out the only day they're NOT downtown is Thursdays. Of course.

I called Adam again and cried.

Then I got back on my bike and headed down South Ave to the Highland park government office, where the DMV actually was operating. There was only one other person in the room, and I felt confident that everything was going to work out. But no, she refused to take my SS card receipt, and blew me off.

I sobbed outside on the phone to Betsy. It was NOT the day to wear mascara, but I did.

So that was an epic fail if ever there was one. I biked over to Matt and Brianne's, where Adam and Matthew were shooting a Go Veg commercial. And I bought a huge order of Sesame Tofu from Ming's. And everything felt better. I met Betsy later at the Memorial Art Gallery, where we saw a really awesome exhibit called Paint Made Flesh. Then we walked over to Lento to have their Buy One, Get One free vegetarian entrees for students. Thank you, AmeriCorps. I had lentil cabbage rolls with chickpea battered pumpkin slices in a tomato and portobello sauce. And I had a yummy cocktail called The Tell-Tale Heart, made with apple cider, gin and crushed cranberries. It was the perfect ending to an awful day.

And guess what?

I called the Villa's HR office today, and Amy told me that there's no rush, just to call her as soon as I have my new license number and they'll bring me in for hiring.

Hallelujah!

So, I have a job, and although I won't start getting a paycheck for a while, I can relax and really enjoy my knitting, reading and cooking that I've been doing during this interim.

I don't know why it seems that bureaucracy has it in for me, but I'm glad that I'm never completely screwed over. Just inconvenienced, frustrated and delayed because of the government's red tape.

(On a slightly political note, Adam and I were discussing how demeaning it is to have to jump through so many hoops to prove that we are full citizens of this country. How many proofs do we need? Birth certificate, Social Security card, Passport, Driver's License, etc. And which of those is least important? The little blue paper card that ONLY has a number, one that is easily memorized, and easily stolen. And how expensive ARE all of these documents? Very. Especially when they have to be renewed or replaced. I feel so much for those who don't have the money to prove their documentation, and those that are treated as less human because they can't prove their identity. No wonder we feel so lost in this world. Our identities depend on little cards and pieces of papers and photographs and numbers.)

conundrum.

So, I have applied, interviewed, and been considered for a job at an agency called St. Joseph's Villa. It's a good position with a good agency with good benefits. Good deal.

Here's my conundrum. I need a "valid NYS driver's license" in order to proceed to hiring. I never got around to getting a new license until I applied for this job. But in order to get a new license, I need my social security card, which I've misplaced. Turns out living in 8 cities, 3 states, and 2 countries in 5 years can make it difficult to keep everything together. So I immediately applied for my SS card, which has yet to arrive. I called SSA, and they said that I should have already received my card, so I could go in to the office and see if they'll reissue one to me. Then I can go to the DMV, get a new license, and start working again.

EXCEPT, tomorrow is f-ing Veteran's Day. The most random of all government holidays. Both the SSA office AND the DMV will be closed tomorrow. So at the very earliest, I could get my new license Thursday. Which means I probably couldn't get in for hiring until next week. And they're already annoyed that I haven't gotten them my new license number.

epic fail.

peter

I remember him standing there like a break in the mist, or the shadow under old trees & I wish I had known then it is the place we cannot go that needs our touch most.

One of Us.

Someday, the light will shine like a sun through my skin & they will say, What have you done with your life? & though there are many moments I think I will remember, in the end, I will be proud to say, I was one of us.

a good reminder

how we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.

[annie dillard]

Life Plan

I asked her what she planned to do with her life & she said she was way beyond that point already. I'm just happy I remember to be there when it happens, she said.

[brian andreas]

Memory

i've always liked the time before dawn because there's no one around to remind me who i'm supposed to be, so it's easier to remember who i am.
[brian andreas]

This month's theme for Soul Matters is "memory." The first part of our assignment is simple: What is your first memory? I've thought about this before, and I always go to the moment when I walked into the living room of what was our new house on Douglas street. I was about three, and I was very impressed by the dark red shag carpeting. The only problem that I have with that memory is that I'm pretty sure it's not mine. My mom used to always tell me that, at that moment, I exclaimed that I wanted the living room to be my room. And so I'm not sure it's authentic. While I thought about this last summer, I remembered the time when I asked my mom how to spell my name. My backcountry crew was asked to recall when we first realized our individuality, and that memory really stands out to me. Understanding that each person has a different name (generally) really confirms that we exist within our own identities. So that's my first memory.

The next part of the assignment asks us to rediscover a memento from the past that has disappeared on the mantle, one that we want to dust off and display once more. I'm not sure yet what I'll choose. I assume it would be some memento from my travels, but perhaps not. I'll have to go through my things and see what I can find.

The third part of our assignment is passing on our memories. That's where this blog (and the other two I have) come in handy. I have plenty of stories that I've accumulated over the years (again, mostly from my travels) and I am looking forward to reading them over and finding ones to share. I also hope to spend a lot more time this month recording my memories here. I really have so much that I need to write about. This is good motivation to do so.

Rev. Forrest Church said, "Who we are today is in large measure determined by what we choose to remember and how we choose to remember it." I think it's important to remember that we are making a legacy of our lives, and that we need not only make wild and beautiful memories, but we need to remember those moments with the dignity and imagination that they deserve. All my most beautiful memories come from moments when I felt awed or inspired by what I saw, heard, smelled, felt and even tasted. Opening to the magic of the moment helps us remember better.

We all have stories, and we should all be story-tellers. What's your story?

Deep Listening

This month's topic for my "Soul Matters" group is Deep Listening. There are three parts to our assignment, and I really haven't done much with any of them. One is to listen to surroundings, to be in a familiar place like the supermarket or the park and to listen to what is going on. The next is to listen to someone close to us, to really listen to what they have to say and to keep them talking, rather than waiting for our turn to talk. The last part is listening to something we don't really want to listen to, be it conservative talk shows or a voice in our heads that has been persistently nagging us. I'm not so good with fitting into every assignment, and prefer to use it as a guide for my own experiences.

I should say that I have listened deeply to someone close to me. On several occasions I focused quite a bit on talking with Adam and Betsy about various things. It's a good reminder to be present during all of those everyday moments. And I do try.

The conversation, though, that really sticks out to me came from the day that I volunteered at our Project Homelessness Connect event in Rochester. AmeriCorps members participated that day in helping the organizers bring social services and agencies to homeless Rochesterians to assist them and provide them with services they need. It was, in general, a very uplifting and heartening experience. But one thing that really bothered me was that many people felt they needed to cut in line or push people around so that they got what they needed. That is totally normal, when so many homeless people have to compete for a place in line for food, clothing and shelter EVERY NIGHT. I just wish that the organizers did more to make sure this was not a "survival of the fittest" type experience for anyone. But it was, and here's my story.

I was an escort for different individuals to help them find the resources they were looking for. Later in the afternoon, I walked around with Mike, a retired Marine who was going through a divorce. He was nice enough, though pretty suspicious of me (or a least uncomfortable walking around with me). It was strange to be helping a man that truly reminded me so much of my dad. We were waiting in line for the barber for over an hour (!!), and had been chatting with another man in front of us, when a 19-year-0ld kid cut in line. Now, we had been waiting for a long time, but there weren't many people in line and it was taking SO long that I can understand why the man in front of us got upset. But he grabbed the kids arm and told him to get back, that we were all waiting in line and that it was rude of him to cut. He was quite angry and the kid got angry too. Eventually, they were yelling at me to do something because I had some kind of authority. But I did not know what to do. So I said nothing. They kind of eyed each other for a while, muttering things, the boy not moving from his spot. The man looked to me again and said I had to do something, and the boy came over to talk to me. He was flipping out, yelling that he was bi-polar and that he blacks out when he gets angry and starts punching people, so that man definitely did not want to mess with him. And I simply said to him that everyone was waiting patiently and would he be okay just waiting in line with me instead. He was a bit hesitant at first, still insisting that he could definitely hurt that guy if he touched him again. But then he just started talking. He told me all about his mental health problems, about problems in his life and past, and he started to settle down. I asked him questions about his life and issues he had, and eventually he was fine. We talked a lot, and he told me everything. Everyone got their hair cut, and no one threw a punch. It was scary, but once I knew what to say, I was in complete control. And I have to think that in a small way I help that boy.

I know that a year ago I could have never stepped in on this disagreement, and I would never have known how to talk to this kid. But after a year of working with teens, I really do know how to talk to them, and, more importantly, how to respect them. They mostly just need someone who will listen to them, not judge them, and offer them advice, not a lecture.

And so, although I make an effort to listen deeply to all aspects of my life, today I am proud that when it REALLY counted, I was there to listen. And it really helped.

<3

Hospitality

I am in a "Soul Matters" group at my church where I meet with a small group to talk about personal, spiritual and universal topics. I joined this group through my "Starting Point" class, which is what made me decide to join First Unitarian of Rochester. Every month, our church focuses on a different topic, which is tied together by a yearly theme. This year's theme is UU values. Some people, even members of UU churches, are under the impression that, in Unitarian Universalism, you can believe whatever you want to believe. Not so. We are tied together by a collection of values that embody our faith in each other and in the time we spend on this earth. So our first topic for September is "Hospitality." For our homecoming service, everyone is supposed to have reflected on something that they need to "welcome in" to their lives, and then bring a symbol of that gift of grace that comes from being open. And in our Soul Matters group, we will have a chance to talk about that symbol and the process of searching for that "thing" to welcome in.

I've thought about this off and on throughout the summer, without ever seriously considering it. But now, as the deadline closes in, I've realized a very obvious "stranger" that I need to begin to welcome in. It's family.

Since I went to college, family has been a somewhat abstract connection to the life I had before I began to travel and transform my life. I went to college close to home, so it seems like I would have remained close with my family, but that's not the case. I talked to my mom on the phone every couple of weeks and to my dad even less. I went home to East Lansing to hang out with friends, go to Hilaire's yoga classes and shop at Barnes & Noble and Urban Outfitters. I saw my mom whenever I went home, and at holidays my whole family would convene for Catholic mass, family dinners and short sessions of "catching up". And then it was off to my next adventure.

In between summer vacation and Christmas, I was traveling to Puerto Rico, Spain and California. I met hundreds of people along the way, made lasting friendships and met curious and fascinating people that dissolved from my life as quickly as they appeared. I had two Spanish families and a "mama Morocco", a college family, a study abroad family, and various other groups of friends that kept me busy. After a year of living abroad, I stopped relying so much on phone conversations and more on myself. It's just how I finished growing up.

What made me realize that it was time to bring family back into my life was thinking about my newborn nephew, Teddy. I have seen pictures of him and even heard him over the phone, but I have yet to see him. He is nearly four weeks old, and I won't see him until he is more than 6 weeks old. And that makes me sad, and disappointed. I don't like that it takes more than a quick drive to see my nephew, and that my mom only comes to visit once a year. There are a lot of factors that make it more difficult than it has to be. I don't have my own car, and I don't have a lot of extra money to spend on plane or train tickets. But it shouldn't be this hard.

Something that has been bothering me consistently is how distant I feel from my brother and how, even though he has a new son, it's not that strange that I haven't called him in weeks. I never sent them a card and I haven't talked to his wife, my sister-in-law, at all. I just feel disconnected. And yet Teddy is my nephew, and I have the privilege of being a very important person in his life. I don't want to be distant from him, to never know much about him or to miss him growing up. There is an obvious connection, though, between how I am involved in his new life and how I have been involved in Patrick's life. Just because he has a son does not mean we are suddenly the best of friends, talk all the time and know everything about each other. And I don't ever see that happening. But I think that I can't be surprised that I am physically and figuratively distant from his birth and start of life.

I talked to my mom on the phone today, and I kept thinking that I had been meaning to call her for weeks now. I haven't talked to Stephen on the phone in a long time, and I hardly even see Betsy, even though I live with her! I get so wrapped up in my own life that I never think to call and catch up with my family. I love all of them and am so happy that they are all doing so well, but it's hard staying in touch with all of them.

I plan on bringing a photo of Teddy to church, a symbol of the gift of family and babies and new beginnings. He is a reminder that family is a gift of grace, and needs constant attention and participation to truly enjoy. Babies are good reminders.

compassionate meanderings...

I don't know what the hell I want to do with my life.

Heck, I don't even know what I want to do in two months when my Americorps term ends.
In a lot of ways, I'm okay with this not-knowing. It means that I can do anything, and I'm glad to have those options open. Especially because I feel that my life is still shifting and readjusting. I must be 24...

To try to make sense of my values and vision, so that soon I might be able to synthesize this into a five-year-plan, I'm going to explain what I know I believe in.

Compassion:
The mother of a good friend from middle school once told me that I was compassionate. At her house, my friends and I were discussing who was the "girl next door" and I figured I was. Being naive, I thought that term simply meant I was normal, unassuming and generally well-liked. But when she insisted that I wasn't a "girl-next-door", that I was such a compassionate young woman, I was confused, and touched. I guess I've carried that with me all those years. It was like a charge, a prophecy I was meant to live out. I am compassionate, and thus my life should be an example of compassion. I know I don't always live up to this trait, but I do believe in it with all of my heart. Caring about others and exercising non-judgment creates a space between us in which people can unload their worries and judgments, and then find the courage to move beyond adversity, and soar.

It is because of my commitment to compassion that I am so excited about speaking out against animal cruelty. Animal rights, human rights, women's rights, civil rights and all other forms of advocacy to marginalized groups have the same root evil: oppression. And nearly all of the acts of cruelty and oppression in this world are committed by one small group of power-hungry, greedy and violent human beings who believe they are entitled to everything in God's creation. In the past, men felt like they were entitled to women's bodies, slave labor, animal flesh and political power. But as time goes on, the human consciousness becomes aware of the immoral paradigms that define and enslave us. We are tied to our history of violence and exploitation, and strangely, we cling to it!

Across the board, those who belong to a privileged group find comfort and protection in the status quo, and even after they become enlightened to the atrocities of oppression, they can't see how the world could be any different. Women support patriarchy because, thanks to patriarchy, they live in a system in which they are sheltered, provided for and asked to do very little. But that same system makes it obligatory to sacrifice a woman's body to men's sexual desires (physical or simply visual), suffer ridicule, abuse and humiliation, and live as second-class citizens. It often takes quite a bit of nudging for women new to feminism to wash their hands of the so-called "security" of supporting masculine power. It is the same with any form of oppression.

As I wrote in my last post, it is so easy to support the status quo, because the messages that rationalize privilege are ingrained in us. But move just a smidge beyond those lies, and you will see things exceptionally clearly. It happened exactly that way when I finally understood and embraced feminism. And it is the same now, as I am uncovering the layers of ways in which we enslave, oppress and exploit non-human animals.

I've been thinking lately about how glad I am that I decided to be vegan--especially because I know I am doing something that is true to my values. I never have to feel hypocritical or compromising, at least when it comes to my food choices. It is a grand feeling to exude ethics on a daily basis. I am living in a way that is compassionate and intentional. When I talk to people about going vegan, I tell them that it was the best decision I've ever made (along with living in the mountains!). All of the initial "cons" that I imagined just melt away when I realize the impact my decisions have on ending oppression everywhere. When I choose compassion, I am fighting against racism, sexism, speciesism and any other -ism that exploits living things. Maybe I can't have anything I want a a restaurant, but by asking for those options and only eating things that align with my values, I can have a positive impact on changing this system. Someday all restaurants will have options for cruelty-free foods, and many will ONLY serve those options. Anyway, my advice is this: Once you take the plunge, you won't regret it, even if you have to say "no, thank you" to those scrumptious-looking chocolate cookies. Besides, you can make your own delicious cruelty-free cookies, and feel even better about them because you made them, and made them with compassion.

I'm writing about all of this because I'm so blown-away by my passion for it. For the last two hours I have been reading the newsletter for "Mercy For Animals," a blog about human exceptionalism, and an article about Race, Species and Dehumanization. I'm so amazed that I spent this much of my life unaware of the cruelty we demand for tasty burgers and chicken nuggets. And it's hard, having learned so much about animal rights and liberation, knowing that it's not so obvious or compelling to most people.

Yesterday, I found out that a girl who I had talked to only a couple of weeks ago about being vegan had decided to go vegan too. I know that a combination of talking to me about it, along with other positive influences and empowerment on Greta's part, helped her make that decision, and I'm thrilled. It's strange though, because already her family is outraged. ANGRY. About her wanting to live in a way that doesn't hurt others? It's insane. And that makes me more aware of the deep connection people have with their food. Even in the short time that I have been vegan, I have been pelted with arguments FOR eating meat that lack empathy, concern and true rationalism.

Most arguments against veganism are a defense mechanism, because veganism threatens to shed light on a subject about which we have been happily ignorant since before the 1950s, since before we started mutilating, torturing, drugging and violently slaughtering non-human animals for our exponentially increasing demand for meat. Most people I talk to who are rational, compassionate people in general but who eat meat admit that they "just don't think about the animals' suffering." And that's a problem. If you compare it to driving cars, accruing and throwing out excessive waste, or buying clothes made in sweatshops, you see that we are constantly turning a blind eye to the ways in which we are destroying our planet. And worse, we are participating in a system that is cruel and unmerciful. And it is senseless, ignorant, and lazy. Creating a disconnect between the pasture and plate is exactly what farm industry wants you to do. We are hypnotized by Beef commercials and tantalized by sexy women with milk mustaches on Got Milk? ads and we are made to think that if we just plug our noses and chug that we will be satisfied with this scenario. And it's not okay.

There are some amazing organizations that provide resources to help make a vegan lifestyle doable. Here are a couple of my favorites:

Vegan Outreach: http://www.veganoutreach.org/guide/

Mercy for Animals: http://www.mfablog.org/

Also, this is random, but I found a profile on Vegan Outreach of Jenna Calabrese, one of Adam's close friends. She's so great! Check her out: http://www.veganoutreach.org/enewsletter/jenna.html

I guess at this point I really feel like I care most about living compassionately, but next time I write I promise I'll include my passion for the Bitone Center, Local Economy and Bike Commuting.

this is why i'm vegan

more than three months ago, i decided to "go vegan." i think that's an awkward phrase because it makes it seem gimmicky and, in a way, temporary. "i went vegan once, but i got out of that quick." that's something that a girl selling vegan biscotti told me. i can say that i won't buy "biscotti for everybotti" ever again. if you ridicule your target consumer, you don't deserve their business. period. anyway, it's the catchphrases and cliches that really bog this issue down. looking at it from the inside out, i see how often people who are not vegan or who were never wholeheartedly vegan misunderstand and judge this compassionate choice. and it makes me think about all of these fringe groups that are so often the butt of jokes and the target of hate and discrimination.

the argument for eating meat is, to me, comparable to the argument for patriarchy. it is an age-old argument that is easily won. how can you argue against patriarchy when it is the dominant paradigm? that is what anti-feminists have been flaunting since feminism's inception. they have the points that always "make sense" because they are the generally accepted rule. but they are wrong. we know that about feminism. so what about the act of eating meat?

meat-eaters often point out to a vegan that "we have been eating meat for thousands of years. we evolved to be hunters and to have an omnivorous diet." even the beloved Michael Pollan, crusader-of-sorts for the semi-conscious eater, says that it is natural for us to eat animals. but there is nothing natural about the way that food animals are caged, drugged, and slaughtered for our "evolved" style of eating. there is no connection to the way we hunted only what we needed and held ceremonies to honor the slain animals. and there is no excuse for torturing and neglecting billions of animals. and anyway, just because we have been doing something for thousands of years does not mean that we have the right to continue doing it. in general, immorality is acceptable only as long as it can be excused by ignorance. once we reach enlightenment, every second wasted in inaction only diminishes our morality. and our humanity.

for the sake of keeping this personal, i'll stray now from ideology and paradigms (god, i love that word). it's sort of a strange thing to have become vegan and not have a big "coming out" party. is that weird? i am so proud of my decision and so glad that adam has helped me through this process so much. he is the most compassionate person i know and he is so understanding and empathic. i really feel like this solidifies my committment to peace and compassion for all things living and i'm just so damn proud of myself. so that's why it's hard when my boss makes rude comments and literally makes fun of me for not eating meat. and not eating any products that come from animals. i'm really proud of this part about me, and that makes it confusing when people think it's something weird or shameful. i make a decision every day on the side of compassion, and i'm not hurting anyone. and that makes me worthy of ridicule?

i suppose christians express this situation with the metaphor of "taking up the cross". i know that this is a difficult path that i have chosen to take but it is only difficult because of those who would try to make it difficult for me. i don't miss eating meat or cheese or eggs because i can no longer look at those things as food. they are parts of living things and that is either disgusting or disrespectful to eat.

this feeling did not develop the moment i saw an animal cruelty video. in fact, adam showed me his Fowl Play documentary and i continued to eat cheese and yogurt and butter. it's not easy to just eliminate these "normal" things from your diet. but once i gave it up and got over the cravings i had for those things, i realized how strange it was, to me, that we eat these things. "milk" is a cow's breast milk, meant for her calves. it does not flow from her constantly, which is a common misconception. dairy cows are regularly bred so that they always make milk (imagine if we had a factory where women were raped to produce milk for other people's children). eggs are a chicken's dead embryo, and therefore we are eating the result of the hen's menstruation. we wouldn't even think to consume the result of a human's menstrual cycle. and yet my boss tried, rather urgently, to tell one of my youths that she couldn't possibly live without eggs. i hope she wasn't listening very closely...

over the past three months, i have noticed a significant boost in my energy levels. i feel healthier and happier, and i have lost a little weight that was excess (i also bike commute, so that makes a difference too). i eat delicious food and find options everywhere, if limited. it is a bit expensive, but mostly because i am boycotting Wegmans, and only shop at the Abundance Food Co-op or the market. but i feel good about those decisions. i support locally owned and grown food, i boycott animal cruelty, and i live a healthy and happy life.

i thought about putting a disclaimer here, like, "i don't mean to call out the people who do eat meat" or "you can make your own choice about the food you eat" but i don't think that does this post justice. you don't have to agree with how i feel about eating cheese or eggs, but i really encourage you to consider that the argument for eating meat is archaic and based on capitalism and consumerism. it is age-old and it is heartless. eating vegan really is the most compassionate way to live your life. and that's why i'm vegan.

<3

isn't it ironic...

when i ended my last post, i intended to head out on my bike for the evening, but what i did instead was stick around home and realize plans i had half-heartedly tried to make to attend the uganda lobby days conference in dc. instead of going to women's group, i bought a plane ticket and made arrangements to stay with a good friend from abroad. it was the best decision i've made this spring.

aside from being interesting, informative and inspiring, this trip was also full of irony. for example:

1. while i waited in the rochester airport to head to this peace rally, i was held up in my terminal by a plane-load of WWII vets exiting their plane to applause and standing ovations. ironic, considering i was on my way to protest war. and here they were, former soldiers, being honored by complete and total strangers. bizzare, to say the least.

2. i happened to be riding the same metro line that, while i was in DC, suffered a massive crash that killed 10 people, including the driver. although i was never near the stop and was in the conference when it happened, it was still surreal to take that same line the day after and watch the solemn and slightly nervous faces of my metro companions.

3. in a strange flow of conversation, i was invited to lunch with adam's ex-girlfriend, nicole. one of the girls in my new york delegation had been talking about how she had lost her cell phone and was trying to make sure she could still meet up with her friend for lunch. she discovered that i was vegan and excitedly invited me to go with her to lunch. she and "nicole" had worked for PETA one summer, traveling in a van and handing out vegan goodies, and she couldn't wait to see her again (ahem, she couldn't remember her last name though...) finally i realized it was the same nicole and very abrubtly declined. adam and i had joked about meeting up with her, but i was certainly not interested in having lunch with the woman adam lived with in his house for three years. even if i've already met her and think she's nice...

4. i made a friend at the conference, and we were driving around the city, looking for a gas station, when we ran out of gas. oh irony of all ironies.

5. i saw my friend alyssa's boyfriend biking around Adams Morgan, where i was staying with miriam (i met alyssa AND miriam in spain). then i found out alyssa had been the same place i was earlier, trying to catch glimpses of reese witherspoon shooting her latest film at the nearby starbucks.

so there you have it. there are other things worth blogging about, but i need to move on.


i quit my job at starbucks. my last day is next sunday. i couldn't be happier. i am a little sad that it limits my traveling abilities, but i can't wait to have those mornings to blog, read up on current events, job search, work on grad school apps and spend time with adam and betsy. our garden is exploding with fresh food and i need to get rid of a lot of things i don't need anymore. and there are many more books to read as well.

i'm getting more excited than ever about going back to school. i've been excited about clark university, but i just looked at uc-davis again, and i have a great feeling about it. i would love to live in davis, first of all, and i think the program would be great for me. i think the work that i'm doing now could really help me in the program, and depending on how i design my curriculum, i could get into agriculture, women's issues, sustainability, etc. one amazing thing about this program is that it's about building great communities that help protect our environment and take care of people, and davis is such an exemplary community. they also do extension work in sacramento, which is the most diverse city in the nation according to Time magazine. so it seems like a great model from which to learn. personally, i love that it is extremely close to the stanislaus, yosemite, tahoe and a host of other parks and forests for weekend hikes. and it's also the most bike-friendly city in the country. i think we're on the right track...

spending a year away from school, especially in environments that are extremely non-academic, i am thirsting for some brain stimulation and a chance to challenge myself. last year i wanted to give my brain a break, and it's been really good for me. i challenged my body and pushed it further than i ever thought it could go. i sat on mountain-tops, meditated on the shores of calm creeks and was nearly swept away in a raging river. i hiked 2 miles into the sky, carried all of my worldly possessions on my back. and now it's time to do all of that figuratively with my brain :) i can't wait to see what new adventures are waiting for me. just a few more months in americorps, and then who knows where i'll end up!

returning

hello blog, oh how i've missed you.

i can measure how long i've been dating adam by how long i've been absent on the internet. it's crazy how unappealing the internet seems when you've got a cute boy around. as much as i've enjoyed my hiatus from the addiction that is an online presence, i have to say i've missed my journaling.

it's not just adam that has taken me away from writing. i've remained horrendously busy working a full-time and a part-time job, bike commuting, and trying to maintain some sense of order in my home and a sufficient level of personal hygiene. all that and going on adventures with my amazing partner...it's no wonder i haven't had time to write about all that's going on!

so today, different from any other day, i happen to have the whole day off from both jobs and adam went home early to take care of things with his kitties, while i stayed to finish some housecleaning and organizing. this means i've putzed around long enough to feel like settling in to write before claire joins me on skype so we can catch up.

i've had a great day so far. i woke up and cleaned up the warzone in the kitchen from last night's indian dinner. i started some laundry, ate a bowl of soyogurt, and read a bit of my book about trees. eventually adam woke up and i made him oatmeal and he tinkered with iPhoney while i made some bulk food for the week. i'm going to be busy all day everyday until next monday, so i have to make sure i can feed myself on the run. some weeks i'm not so good about doing this on my days off, so i end up eating at dogtown three days a week and binge-eating vegan cookies fromt the co-op. i'm pleased with my foresight this time.

this is a bit of my routine since adam has come into my life. aside from the wild adventures we have together, which more often than not involve long bike rides and lots of vegan food. we split the week at my house and his, depending on my morning schedule at starbucks. he is good about letting out honey, my enormous white bunny rabbit, to hop around and nibble on the wood trim of just about everything in my bedroom. i clean her cage, give her a handful of food, make sure her water is full, and count on adam to make sure she's entertained when i'm not around. it's really hard to work so many hours and then spend every other hour (waking and sleeping) with adam, but it's all worth it.

we've been dating for about three months now, and i much prefer this life to my life before i met him. i had more time to think and reflect then, but all i had to think about was how unhappy i was and how much i wanted to go on adventures, here or anywhere else. those who know me know i love to write about how unhappy i am, but rarely how content i am with life. contentment is uninspiring, i suppose. there's nothing to work out.

i expect claire's call any minute, so i'm going to prepare to be on the phone for at least an hour. then i'm off to the women's group meeting at teen city before i meet adam and his friends at an asian restaurant for dinner. maybe i can come back here in about a week. it'd be nice to get back in the habit again...

signs from above

I used to wait for a sign, she said, before I
did anything. Then one night I had a
dream & an angel in black tights came to
me & said, you can start any time now, &
then I asked is this a sign? & the angel
started laughing & I woke up. Now, I think
the whole world is filled with signs, but if
there's no laughter, I know they're not for me.

[brian andreas]

the whole world is filled with signs. i've always believed it, but this wisdom passed on to me by my mother has never seemed so true as now. a million signs have gently guided me on journeys small and grand, helped me make decisions and choose from a thousand paths that could have taken me anywhere in the world. signs are everywhere, and the more you listen to those little nudges from the universe, the more fun you'll have. i promise.

last night i spent the evening after work with a good friend, savoring food from my favorite little restaurant in rochester and enjoying pleasant conversation. once again i was reminded that, although i loved edinburgh and being with claire, it was good to be back home. home in rochester, with people and places that really make me feel like i belong in this strange new life.

as we were leaving dogtown, we stopped by teen city to get my bicycle. adam laughed at betsy's silly cruiser which i have adopted for the time being, until i can buy my own sweet ride. with headlamp strapped to helmet and handlebars sticking out like bug antennae, he said i was adorable. i'm sure it was closer to ridiculous. i took the compliment anyway. to put it into perspective, adam's sweet ride has bumper stickers, a back seat, speakers for cruising to good tunes, and flashing lights. it's kind of like comparing a harley to a crotch-rocket. without all the macho baggage, of course...

anyway, back to the signs!!! once we were sufficiently equipped with safety gear and had some good music flowing, we took off down monroe ave. i began to pass adam on the sidewalk, only to be completely bombarded by an enormous yellow sign that fell from the storefront 10 feet up. it clipped me in the head (thank goodness for my helmet!) and fell to the ground with that sheet-metal-thunder sound. shocked and simultaneously amused, i dismounted to inspect my attacker. this enormous yellow plastic sign that fell from the sky and hit me in the head, in fact, had the word "sign" on it. so there you have it: a "sign".

the reason why i was certain it really was a sign is that, upon our evaluation of the situation, adam and i fell into stitches of laughter, amused and befuddled by the irony of what had just happened. i was completely unhurt, and could only keep repeating "it's a sign! it's a sign!" as adam took pictures and laughed heartily. he strapped the sign to his back seat and after recovering from our fits of laughter, we resumed our night ride through the rain, still glowing with smiles. he rode home with me, presented me with "the sign" and gave me a nice hug. he rode away, and i brought the sign inside to show betsy and charlie. they were impressed and perplexed, which satisfied me.


i'm not sure what the purpose of this sign was. i know that we really had a lovely time together and it served to reinforce how much joy i think we both felt for the moment. it's not every day that a real sign bashes you in the head, and when it happens, you have to stop and think about what the universe is trying to tell you. i know for certain i will always wear my helmet when riding, and that i will continue to accept invitations to adventure with adam. it seems they are always rewarded with the most curious and mysterious of events. and lots and lots of laughter...

to scotland.

it's about time to leave for the airport.

i'm going to scotland :)

after quite the whirlwind, i've made it to another adventure...one involving passports, airports and time to think. it's my favorite thing in the world. i have a true addiction to it. i'm sitting here in my living room with my luggage in front of me, and there is nothing quite so satisfying as seeing all that work stuffed into a few small bags. i love preparing a suitcase with only the essentials, imagining what kind of journey i will be taking and what things i will need. starting with a large pile and slimming it down to a neat stack. little bottles of shampoo. batteries, snacks and something to read. plenty of socks and underwear.

a long time ago i discovered that this is what i wanted to live for. this is what i wanted my life to be. preparing for the next big adventure, taking the time to explore, grow and learn through challenging and exhilirating experiences. interacting with the whole world. this is what i'm meant to do. i'm not lucky, as one person said, except in that i am american, wealthy compared to the rest of the world and able-bodied. but all other things being equal, you have to want to do these things. it's been a rough little road up to today, losing my passport and finding it again, making financial sacrifices and taking risks, putting in extra hours at work, etc. but i've had so much faith in the beauty of adventure, the value of getting out in the world and taking the time to live, to truly live, in this world, that nothing has made this trip not worth it.

charlie should be here soon to take me to the airport. let's see what scotland has in store for claire bear and me...

begin again.

it is suddenly march.

the beginning. and the end.

last wednesday was ash wednesday, and now we are past the threshold of winter. we may be pummeled by snow storms yet, but winter is losing its battle. the time to start over has come, and there is no stopping it.

in less than 10 days, i will be boarding an airplane, destined for scotland. it will be my first international travel in two years. i won't be there long, but it will be enough. i am so unbelievably excited to see claire. we will get to celebrate her birthday early, visit the highlands and walk and walk and walk and talk and drink coffee. i'm looking forward so much to seeing this new life that she has in edinburgh, and maybe to give her my blessing to stay.

i would like to continue this entry, but i am about to get picked up on my vegan, animal rights, fellow UU-churchgoing friend's bicycle. details later :)

home, sick.

searching boxes underneath the counter
on a chance that on a tape i'd find

a song for
someone who needs somewhere
to long for

homesick
cause i no longer know
what home is
[kings of convenience]

last night there was a confusion between me being home, sick, and homesick. there is a difference, wide and deep, between the two, but i wonder if i can bring them together. i'm intrigued by hearing "homesick" by the kings of convenience today, after that confusion, because the song talks about some feelings that i have about my work that i'm doing and where i want to be. and i know i'm not homesick for michigan, but i could be homesick for california. well, i mean, i'm absolutely homesick for the stanislaus.

so, let's talk about being sick at home and homesick. the former is somewhat antithetical to the latter because if you're home, sick, then you're obviously at home, wherever that is. it is definitely more literal, and doesn't require much of a definition because it is tangible. both being sick and being in a physical space called home are objective (for the most part). but being homesick is entirely abstract, because you are missing a place that physically does not exist. in a way, you can't prove that that place exists because you cannot see it, and whatever your ideas about it, you can't define what it is or what you miss about it. being homesick is in your head, while being sick is entirely within your body.

so at this moment, i suffer from physical sickness. i suppose if i felt like pondering it, i would admit that i miss a place in my memory that no longer exists for me in any physical sense. now that i'm thinking about this...does what i think about place also apply to people? are friends that live thousands of miles away any less because of the space between us? perhaps that is the beauty of communication, because i can still verify their existance through our phone calls and letters. i can't really check in with the trees and deer in the stanislaus to make sure they're still alive and well. i'm tempted to bring in the old addage, "if a tree falls in the woods, does it make a sound?" just because i have no contact with my mountains, does that mean i can't remain connected to it? is it all in my head? who knows.

this is what happens when i take the day off to recover from illness. i make no sense and try to grapple with things beyond my brain's current functioning capacity. i shouldn't drink coffee when i'm this sick...

amigos

this weekend, i finally felt that i have friends here in rochester.

on thursday night, betsy, greta and i went to a valentine's party at one of rochester's living co-ops. we didn't know many people, but we found a few people we had seen around, and had a nice time. then we went to the bug jar and saw melissa from church, tim, and greta's friend pete. the dream team (betsy, me, greta, jenna and jessica) was back together again, and it was so much fun. we got our dance on, majorly. then on friday i went to member development day for americorps and had fun with everyone there, and got to talk with ceridwen a bit. she's awesome. friday night was game night at jenna's and we had a rocking good time. we played "a thousand white cards" and it was so hilarious. definitely a good game for our crowd. i love them the most because they are so creative, funny and comfortable in their own skin. they are my people :) afterwards betsy and i went to sean's for the 90s party and we also had a great time there. then saturday i went out late with starbucks people and we had a ridiculous time. it started with darts at the keg (embarrassing, i know) and ended drinking coffee at 3am at jason's, hanging out and playing guitar. sunday afternoon i went with betsy and charlie to the 20s/30s group outing to the bagel bin with people from my church, and had a great conversation with some people i didn't know, and then got to talk to adam, the amazing (and apparently famous) vegan animal rights activist who just screened a movie he directed in hollywood. it's about the egg and chicken industry, and it looks really incredible. i can't wait to see the screening here in rochester. the best thing is that he's coming over for dinner next sunday! i'm so excited to get a chance to talk to him more. we're going to have a vegan fondu extravaganza....sweet!!

finally, last night i went out with matt, tucker and andy and we had a great time playing darts. now granted, i went out thursday thru sunday nights straight, and that probably was not the best idea, but it was fun and made me feel so much better about finding a place among these various rochester crowds. i feel comfortable with these people, and feel affection and companionship with quite a few of them. it helps to have my "posse", charlie and betsy to discover these wonderful people. i could not have done it without them.

this is a random post, but i just had to say that i finally feel at home here (it only took four months...) and that i'm looking forward to better weather to enjoy with my friends.

time to read!

for peter

"Listening Well"

He had the gift
of stopping time
& listening well
so that it was easy
to hear who
we could become

& that was the future
he held safe
for each of us
in his great heart

you may ask, what now?
& I hope you understand
when we speak softly
among ourselves
& do not answer
just yet

for our future
is no longer the same
without him

[Brian Andreas]

"painting by chagall" - the weepies

Thunder rumbles in the distance, a quiet intensity
I am willful, your insistence is tugging at the best of me
You're the moon, I'm the water
You're Mars, calling up Neptune's daughter

Sometimes rain that's needed falls
We float like two lovers in a painting by Chagall
All around is sky and blue town
Holding these flowers for a wedding gown
We live so high above the ground, satellites surround us.

I am humbled in this city
There seems to be an endless sea of people like us
Wakeful dreamers, I pass them on the sunlit streets
In our rooms filled with laughter
We make hope from every small disaster

Everybody says "you can't, you can't, you can't, don't try."
Still everybody says that if they had the chance they'd fly like we do.

wild rivers, steep cliffs and storm clouds on the horizon

in early july, i had an itch to get back to upper relief valley. we had worked that trail up and down, from relief reservoir down at 7,000 feet all the way to the whitesides meadow junction and back. the steep climb to upper relief became routine, and i had enjoyed our daily hike through a patch of mountain sagebrush. now as we turned toward the lunch meadow trail and inched our way closer to our final camp at emigrant lake, i felt the urge to return to something familiar.

we left in a group of six, my friend grace and i the only women. our supervisor, brian, also joined us on this weekend trip. we made the easy, familiar way through hot, exposed granite stairs and cool, shaded ponderosa pine paths. john, our foreman, had described how to find an old ccc camp, down in lower relief valley near the base of granite dome, and we found it easily.

the next morning, i woke to a crisp clear sierra nevada sun. it was early, and the light was still blocked a bit by the mountains that rose up around us in all directions. checking in, i saw that i was the first one up, as usual. i grabbed my journal and my turquoise beanie and scrambled up the granite rocks near our camp to get a better view of the rising sun. i knew i had at least an hour before anyone else awoke, and so i began some sun salutations. my body was sore from a week of trail work and a fast hike with all my weekend gear, but it felt good to stretch out my tired muscles. it had been two months since i joined the crew at our strawberry camp, and i'm sure if i could have looked at myself in a proper mirror, i would have been shocked by the tanned, muscular girl in front of me. nothing can make a girl prettier than abundant sunshine, fresh mountain air and miles and miles of hiking for months on end. that morning, stretching and breathing the crisp alpine air, i felt beauty emanating from me, from the depths of my soul. it was time to write.

as often happened on our weekends, i was soon joined in my solitary morning by owen, or professor ridings as we like to call him. in fact, there were many times when i was startled by his presence; he had awoken and was meditating twenty yards from me on another rock. sometimes our eyes would meet and we would simply smile, and return to our private thoughts and meditations. this morning, he sat in silence for a long time. he had suffered and fought so much in his life; i thanked the universe that this morning he knew peace.

after a quick breakfast of oatmeal and coffee, and my failed attempts not to wake everyone else up, we all slowly made our way to the river, and those magnificent waterfalls.

the water was freezing cold. snowmelt. it fell fast over several pools that were walled in on both sides by steep rocks. we played in the crisp cool water for more than an hour, swimming under the falls and taking pictures as the water pounded down around us. it was slippery and the whole time i was there, i felt on the edge of danger...deliciously risky. life in the wilderness often feels that way. we are wild creatures in our deepest core, and survival instincts begin to show themselves in the face of wild rivers, steep cliffs and storm clouds on the horizon...

as the morning slowly crept towards noon, justin, mike, owen and i found a small plateau of brilliant white granite on which to sunbathe. i had spent so much time with these boys that i felt only a bit bashful in stripping completely and lying fully nude on the hot rocks. they did the same. we lay there for an hour, drying off and warming up after our exhilirating time in the waterfalls. sometimes the wilderness gives you too much time to think. especially on a saturday afternoon smack in the middle of a summer in the mountains, i blissfully thought about nothing. not a care in the world...

eventually our stomachs beckoned us back to camp. the boys headed down the rocks to follow the river back, but i had to cross over the falls to get my towel. i made it across the water without too much trouble, but i found myself in a tough position. the spot where i had left my things was a bit downstream, and although i had climbed down from this point, it was much more difficult to climb back up. in my sandals and underwear, i scrambled up a few rocks, grabbing roots and small cracks in the granite to help myself up. eventually though, i was almost entirely cliffhung, sliding on an angled platform. there was barely enough room for me and my sandals did me no good on the sandy rocks. precariously, my heart beating fast and thoughts of imminent death racing through my mind, i loosened my sandals and slung them around my wrist. using my bare feet for better grip i awkwardly reached for a handhold on the rocks above me. somehow, thanks to my survival insticts, i made it up to the top of the rock face, and sat panting in the hot sun. and for the second time that day, i thanked the universe for her mercy and saving grace.

gathering my things and carefully climbing the rest of the way down the granite rocks, i noticed some dark stormclouds building up. we would not escape this storm, i knew.

the rest of the afternoon was spent under a tarp, in sleeping bags, listening to music and laughing at dumb jokes and silly stories. grace, mike and i had become pretty close and we had fun waiting out the rain in our makeshift shelter. not much rain fell that evening, but by the next morning the rain was inevitable, and we wondered when we should head back to our camp.

rain fell around ten in the morning, and by noon we figured there would be no break. loading our already damp packs on our backs, we started out on the relatively short hike home. by the time we reached the stanislaus river crossing, the rain had been falling for hours, and the river had risen significantly. it was too high and too fast to cross. we waited by the river, heating some water for hot chocolate and using what dry wood we could find to make a small fire. we had no idea what to do. john had advised us to wait it out if ever we found a river too high to cross. it would be better to return late than to attempt such a dangerous crossing. but it was pointless to wait. besides, we were hungry.

at brian's suggestion, we swung on our packs and hiked back about a mile and half up the trail to a wider point in the river. it would be slower and shallower, for sure. but would that be enough for it to be safe to cross? brian, our resident "captain america", dropped his pack and inched out into the river, testing the current to decide whether we could cross. he determined it was possible, and we prepared to cross. the boys went first, with very little trouble. then it was my turn. at five foot two, the river was more than waist high on me. the boys made a sort of assembly line to pass my pack over to the other shore. we sent across grace's and brian's as well. as soon as i stepped into the swift river, my feet went out from under me. by this point i probably weighed no more than 115 pounds, and could not get a grip on the slippery rocks beneath me. brian grabbed me and tried to straighten me out, but it was hopeless. i could not get a firm stance in the river, so the men passed me down the line, gripping me by the lapels. zach yelled, half jokingly, half worriedly, for me to stand up. i laughed and looked at him hopelessly. there was no way i could. they safely passed me off until finally i reached the other shore. they saved my life. and we all were in fits of laughter. grace fared a bit better, though not much. finally we all gathered on the opposite shore, tried to dry off and then began the cross-country trip back to camp.

it was a rough hike, scrambling over rocks and slipping on slimy, mossy logs. at one point i was lost in a patch of tall bushes next to the river, stepping into deep pools and getting caught on pokey branches. we were all tired and wanted to get home, so we scattered and then got frustrated when others went in different directions. at last, we made it to the trail that would take us back to camp.

despite the danger, despite the setbacks and despite the unforgiving nature of the wilderness, we managed to live through these trials not only safely, but laughing all the way. we survived because of the intense commitment we had to each other, and because of the individual fires that burned inside each one of us. we had a personal desire to survive, and a collective desire to succeed.

i never made it all the way up to upper relief valley that weekend, nor anytime for the rest of the season for that matter, but i made peace with that reality. the first moment i had seen upper relief was etched in my brain forever, and no doubt it would never again be as beautiful. you can never go back to those moments. especially if you're looking for something that was there before. we must live each day to the fullest and take what we can from the time we have. no use looking for what was there before.

i finished desert solitaire today, and i'm happy and sad, feeling empty and full, all at once. it was wonderful, albeit tough for me to get through. mostly because i didn't want it to end. i didn't want him to have to leave arches, to go home and wonder, when he goes back, if he goes back, will it be the same? will he be the same?

i sat in a cafe for an hour, eating a croissant and sipping on delicious coffee with lots of cream, and i pondered these questions. of course, i don't plan to return to the backcountry to do all the same things, to be with the same people and see the same sights. i know it would be different, just as i would be different. but in some ways, the wilderness that i left behind is more dependable than anything i could hope to find here in civilization. and the girl that left the mountains was more confident, more energetic, more alive than the one sitting here now. if i did return, i would be older, wiser. i would look at the time i have there in a different light, knowing how precious it really is. if i returned, i would know better than to ever leave again...

if only...

my saving grace (which is also the bane of my existance) is my routine commute by foot around the city of rochester. today, i tried to catch the bus home from teen city, but, realizing i was really early for the bus, i decided to walk part of the way. that turned into ALL of the way. it was just easier, faster, and cheaper than waiting 20 minutes in the cold for a bus that would take 2 minutes and cost me a dollar. my hands weren't numb, so i continued on. i'm proud that i walk everywhere. it's actually not as cold as riding my bike, i've found, since the wind blows so cold on my face. and it gives me time to think. too much, maybe.

i, like ed abbey, like to be alone. my sister is gone with charlie to seattle until next week, and i'm starting to savor my solitude, and the silence it brings me. in silence, in solitude, i have room to stretch my brain. to think long and hard, and sometimes to think of nothing at all. mostly to daydream, a skill i honed from needing something to distract me from 2000 ft climbs up a mountain with tools on my back. i had lovely daydreams while hiking. when it got REALLY bad, i would just think of those damn sheep that surrounded gage and me and woke us up on the morning of the summer solstice. the thought of those sheep would make me smile and even laugh, even on the most grueling hike to work. now, i think of a lot of memories of the backcountry, and dreams of returning to the sierras. i plan wild escapes in winter to warm places with no people, just me and the sky. i can almost smell the sagebrush and juniper and cedar, hear the wind blow through the canyons and taste the dust from the trail in my mouth. i can feel the mountain air. i also think a lot about trails we worked for weeks at a time. i go over in my head every turn in the trail, every incline, switchback, obstacle and view, picturing each step as if i had taken slides of the whole way up the mountain. i don't think i could ever get lost in that part of the stanislaus. i probably know it better than the back of my hand (who ever studies the back of their hand, anyway?)

i started out just wanting to mention that i finished desert solitaire, and that i wished ed abbey had offered me a better handhold out of this hole i find myself. "a hole as deep as my regret." i wish he hadn't left me hanging on the hope that he would return, so that i might return, and find things not necessarily the same, but more familiar than this strange world in which i find myself now. i wish i didn't have to read about all those beautiful arches and rivers and sunsets, and then return to this icy white jungle. i wish i didn't have to wake up at 4:00 in the morning tomorrow. peace...

lifenow radio

my church produces a radio show that is simply fantastic. the shows are a little long, usually about a half an hour, but they're well worth the time. i recommend them to anyone, especially those who are interested in living this life to the fullest and not focusing too much on the next. the show is called LifeNow because that's exactly what they look at: your life, now. mostly, it's what npr could be if they felt bold enough to put a little heart and soul into their stories. check out the website and browse through stories that seem interesting. i just listened to "heart buzz" and loved it. i downloaded a couple and plan to listen to them on my mp3 while i walk to work and run. definitely worth checking out...

let there be peace and peace and peace

have i mentioned that i love sunday mornings? i really love them. today i'm thinking about a lot of things. i'm listening to andy mckee, a favorite from this summer. one sunday morning, one of our last at our relief reservoir camp, and the last time that we saw peter, we all sat around eating breakfast in near silence, drinking tea or coffee and listening to andy mckee's happy acoustic guitar instrumentals bouncing off rock faces and enormous pines. the fire was down to a low crackling and clouds drifted slowly across the sky. we hardly EVER had clouds, and it would eventually rain that day. but at that moment, in the clear july sun, we were completely at peace.

i sit here this morning with my coffee (made in a french press, not cowboy coffee) and listen to andy mckee stream through my laptop. i am alone, and indoors. but i am still happy. i'm about to go to church, and i can't wait. kaaren is preaching today and it's sure to be inspiring. the theme for this month is "think", and i'm looking forward to this challenge. i'm glad that spending time with this church is turning out to be everything i hoped it would be, and more. i love the ministers, and feel inspired in everything i hear and see in my beautiful little church across the street. i couldn't be more blessed to have found these people at this point in my life.

i'm going to finish my coffee, get dressed, bundle up, and take a little walk up to church. i love sunday mornings...

spur of the moment

i never realized how much i love the phrase "spur of the moment." or rather, i never noticed that there ever was anything to love about it. but what is the "spur" of a moment? according to the dictionary online, a spur could be something that serves as a "goad" or "incentive." that's the closest definition i could find. so if i bought something spur of the moment, what would that mean? that i justified it based on its current incentives, what i thought valuable about it in the present moment? maybe.

or, you could picture turning on your spurs, or spurring your horse faster. the "spur of the moment."

i'm starting to kill the phrase in my head (you know how they cease to have the same connections once you say it over and over or ponder the meaning too long? yeah, i'm getting there...) but i'll end on one last intuition. because that's how i understand words...i intuate (i made that up) their meaning based on their context.

i thought that spur might mean "cusp," like the edge of a moment. maybe, there was a split second bunched up in the multitude of inter-moment spaces in which you decided you were going to do something. you were standing on a precipice, and, spur of the moment, you decided to go for it.

whew. pretty powerful.

winter hours

i'm finishing up mary oliver's "winter hours", a book of prose, prose poetry, and poetry. it's lovely. and i had to put this excerpt in here:

"morning, for me, is the time of best work. my conscious thought sings like a bird in a cage, but the rest of me is singing too, like a bird in the wind. perhaps something is still strong in us in the morning, the part that is untamable, that dreams willfully and crazily, that knows reason is no more than an island within us."

p. 98.

grace.

i have stood in front of impressive cathedrals, awe-inspiring paintings and gigantic skyscrapers.

but nothing will ever compare to the moment i stood in front of a three thousand year old juniper tree, and watched birds flit from branch to ancient branch. when will we ever learn that the only true beauty in this world is a gift of grace, something we don't deserve or expect? it is an ancient conifer, a weather-worn mountain peak and an anthill. it is nothing we can create. it is nothing we can imitate. we can only stand in the presence of grace and soak it up like light from the sun. isn't light the ultimate gift of grace, anyway?

por un razon u otra, he pensado mucho estos dias en cuanto echo de menos hablar en espanol. es horrible. ayer, escribi a cinco o seis personas en espanol, para practicar. sin embargo, no es solamente para practicar. es un impulso, como algo necesario. no puedo continuar con el tiempo pasando sin hablar en espanol. ves q apenas perdi nada despues de mas de dos anos fuera de espana.

asi que, escribo en espanol aqui. de vez en cuando. no siempre, pero me siento contento tener este recurso para practicar y satisfecer el impulso de hablar en espanol.

ayer escribia con yotzin por email, y hemos decidido intentar quedar por skype para platicar. me gustaria hablar por un tiempo extendido, aunque deberiamos hacer un "intercambio" asi que durante un parte debemos hablar en ingles. aunque el ensena ingles en la uni, asi q tiene mucha practica. whatever :) seria bueno para nosotr@s dos.

tengo hambre. ves que no puedo soportar escribir tanto en espanol. pero mejorare :) desayuno, y tal vez vuelvo a hablar en espanol.

"half acre" by hem

half acre on youtube...to listen while you read...

i am holding half an acre
torn from the map of Michigan
and folded in this scrap of paper
is a land i grew in

think of every town you've lived in
every room you lay your head
and what is it that you remember?

do you carry every sadness with you
every hour your heart was broken
every night the fear and darkness
lay down with you

a man is walking on the highway
a woman stares out at the sea
and light is only now just breaking

so we carry every sadness with us
every hour our hearts were broken
every night the fear and darkness
lay down with us

but i am holding half an acre
torn from the map of Michigan
i am carrying this scrap of paper
that can crack the darkest sky wide open
every burden taken from me
every night my heart unfolding
my home

rant from the wilderness

ben evans, fellow americorps volunteer and occasional email correspondent, asked me recently to rant about the wilderness. i mentioned that ed abbey in desert solitaire does just that, and he was interested in knowing more about it. what follows is a flow of consciousness that i wrote in a cafe, tweaked out on caffeine and with a few precious hours to kill in between jobs. some of it is based on, or, let's be honest, flat out stolen from the pages of, ed abbey's most beloved memoir. a bit comes from my other dear mentor and favorite agricultural essayist, wendell berry. some of it is from my personal experiences living in total wilderness for 11 weeks straight. some of it comes from my imagination....

"rant from the wilderness"

ed abbey says "they" are pushing us into the cities to prepare for the imminent authoritarian regime. "they" will trap us in the cities, surround us, mechanize our agriculture, take away our guns and make it impossible for us to survive without complete submission to the government. no more guerrilla warfare, for there will be no more jungle in which to stage a rebellion and to hide from our enemy: the industrial authoritarian. but we've arrived at this point and don't even realize it. we can't grow our own food, we are flooding the cities and cannot fathom wilderness survival (that is the stuff of experts seen on the discovery channel, certainly not your everyday joe). industry has the ultimate authority over our entire existence and we are listfully passive about all of this.

some things i have learned:
1. any person can build a fire that is capable of cooking food...even meat.
2. with the right equipment and in moderate climates, any person can survive entirely outdoors.
3. it takes a surprisingly short amount of time to get in tune with nature and to sense changes in the weather and seasons.
4. showers, and especially soap, are entirely overrated.
5. when left without cds, mp3s, i-pods, computers, and other sound devices, humans will make their own music.
6. community agriculture is one of the most rewarding and unifying social endeavor. so are community cooking and community eating.
7. nudity is not shameful.
8. obesity would cease to exist if cars did too.
9. children should absolutely participate in subsistance farming and all household chores. that is not child labor, it's socialization.
10. we all deserve to see the sun rise or set, or both, every day.

while we're at it, i might well describe the problem i have with the word "wilderness," which implicitly separates itself from civilization. we know the word to mean "that which is untouched by humanity." therefore, it is not our place. how are we to feel at home in a world that is expressly scary and unknown? better to stay in the safety of our industrial cities, where we have "reliable" water, heating, and food supplies. who wants to risk bears and unexpected thunderstorms, drought and black flies??

the natural world must be revindicated by humanity, but not in the traditional, patriarchal, dominating way. it must not be conquered, partitioned and lorded over. we must humbly return, ask for forgiveness, and listen to the heart of nature to begin again. we must sit quietly for a long time among cedars and does and ground squirrels and yarrow, and learn from them how to behave.

i am disgusted by industry, manufactured materials and "good deal" (the-cheaper-the-better concept). we are poisoning ourselves with our cut-corners and our mindless complicity. we don't care where our food comes from as long as it is cheap. we don't want to pay for the hidden costs in this global economy, and yet we feel betrayed by those who drove us into our impending depression. we don't want to earn anything, we want everything for less, and the less time anything takes, the better. so that we have time for celebrity gossip, self-absorbed primping internet comas, sport stats and one more beer, bartender.

numb the pain, nurse the wound, alienate others, forget about that earth-shaped hole in your heart (an earth-shaped hole in the universe). and whatever you do, don't got out alone at night. bad things might happen to you...

a few times this summer, i had the chance to bathe alone at sunset. most days i did it in the afternoon after work with some of my crew, sometimes naked but most often with underwear. but those few times at sunset, the water was warm on my bare skin and the sky was pink beyond the mountains in the west. silence surrounded me as i slipped quietly into the blue water. there was only me in all creation, performing ablutions, a sacred cleansing ceremony, among my friends the junipers and ponderosa pines.

i was not lonely. i was not hurting. i was at peace with my body, at peace in my mind, heart and infinite spirit. i felt whole and healed by the simple act of washing myself clean after a hard day's work. the water cradled me in the womb of Mother Earth, and i floated in the stillness of that infinite moment. back in the womb of my Mother, safe and warm and complete.

in the city, the pavement is hard and cold under my feet. i can feel the heartache of industrialism through the sole of my hiking boots. i feel strange wearing them in this urban setting, soiling them after hiking hundreds of miles in them on backcountry trails. cars with their cold, hard, steel shells separate me from every human in view. they whiz by, hardly noticing me and my hiking boots, and all the others around them. we do not acknowledge our kindred, earthly connection. we are estranged or long-lost and never-found sisters and brothers, unaware or indifferent to our universal familial bond. we are afraid of contrived dangers and insecurities, an alleged failing economy and increasing risks of terrorist attacks, and yet we have created these scary scenarios through our own capitalism and nationalism (love of money and love of boundaries, respectively. both divide and neither unites). we choose to believe the illusion of business and individualism instead of the universal truths of cooperation and community. the city is a giant corpse still pumping oil through its disintegrating heart and is falsely dictated by a mechanical, money-hungry brain.

our souls are hiding in the trees, waiting for us to retrieve and restore them. we have only to look in earnest, and the world will reveal itself to us. and we will hear the music to which we have been deaf all these years, the music that resounds through our liberated, naked bodies when we commune with the wild. one day, we will come home.





i'll end with a nice excerpt from desert solitaire, one of many brilliant and inspirational passages in his beautiful book:

"we are obliged, therefore, to spread the news,
painful and bitter though it may be for some people to hear,
that all living things on earth are kindred."