Enough.

Sometimes people tattoo things on their skin so they have constant reminders. I don't think I will be getting a tattoo any time soon and if there were words, I'd never want this many, but if those two things didn't matter, I would want this tattooed on me:

I am enough
I have enough
I love enough
I risk enough
I fill enough
I get enough
I handle enough
I am loved enough
I am healed enough
I am ready enough
I am enough

(SARK)

because sometimes I forget, but it's true


Always.


Or at least-- I want it to be.

My director went for coffee. I'm rehearsing on my own..

So I ask friends weird questions to try and figure out what I need to change. People tell you "you don't need to change a thing" and that often bothers me. I guess, in their terms, what I'm really asking is "what do I need to do to best grow into the best person I can be". If I "just be me," isn't that settling? I want to strive for something great.
Currently, within me, the person who acts is not the same person who thinks. And sometimes the thinker has control or is given input, but in the end it's up to the actions. I live my life like a typical young director staring at her play thinking, "well, I don't know what I want, but this isn't it. I don't know what to do to make it what I want since I don't know what I want, so let's just run it again and see if anything changes.... oh, yup, that was nice, you took one extra step forward, let's start back at that other line and we'll try and do that again, but this time pick up your purse..." Small changes often result in nothing. Small changes occasionally change everything. The question is, what if this figurative show still sucks on closing night*.


*note: This has nothing to do with my Directing show. They're doing great... it's me that I'm trying to figure out. I'm glad the show isn't nearly as messy.

My Own Demise

In second grade we learned about dodo birds. "Dodo bird" is a term people often use to describe someone who is not intelligent; Or at least, that is the meaning it has adapted in time. I learned that this comes from the birds causing their own extinction. Portuguese sailors stumbled upon the island, Mauritius (the only place dodo birds were seen) and since the dodo birds had never met humans before, these flightless birds didn't know to run away.

"The sailors mistook the gentle spirit of the dodo, and its lack of fear of the new predators, as stupidity. They dubbed the bird "dodo" (meaning something similar to a simpleton in the Portuguese tongue). Many dodo were killed by the human visitors, and those that survived man had to face the introduced animals. Dogs and pigs soon became feral when introduced to the Mauritian eco-system. By the year 1681, the last dodo had died..." (source- I couldn't remember the years)

Ever since the age of 7 I have kept the dodo in the back of my mind. I am not sure why it's stuck with me so strongly, but sometimes the term is brought up and I inform the surrounding people of the dodo's tragic story. Some people already know it, but many do not.



This morning Aaron and I were on the telephone and we were discussing how his acting class had all been telling each other the colors, flowers, animals, ect. they associated with each other as a class exercise. There was little consistency to the responses he received. In a way I feel this makes a lot of sense. Aaron different major strengths that can easily overshadow each other depending what context you know him. Many people have this, but often we know a certain portion of them so well, that we forget. And as we grow our identity becomes more and more refined because we stop testing the limits of our "selves" that have been built for us...
So I asked Aaron what color, scent, mode of transportation and animal I would be. He said bright yellow (which I thought was odd for a variety of reasons- he said he just tries to think of the happy, bubbly me), some sort of wildflower, MG and the dodo bird. I told him that was mean (the dodo bird). What was that supposed to mean? He was leaving to go sleep or eat or something at this point so I didn't pester for much of an explanation, but if I'm honest with myself, I suppose, when relating to him, I know how I am the dodo bird. This is not because I'm dumb, but rather I chose to trust. I have seen what you have done. I acknowledge what you have done. Now I look past it and give you a chance to be loved again.

The question is, am I destined to meet the same ending as these gentle birds? Why must the sailor(s) be so cruel? Just because they were "...easy prey to the Portuguese invaders who would club the bird to death as it approached them seeking friendship..." (source) doesn't mean they should have done so. And who are the sailors? And if they know I am this way, why must they still prey?

And when does it become too great of a risk for me to trust. After all, it is terribly tiring to remain closed off all the time. I find no reason to hide on the other side of a wall. I was not placed here to hide away. I am here to be, to be here. I want to love and to care and to trust. I am willing to forgive.

Barefoot dreams

Just some words:

And I have these dreams when we're walking. We walk so softly, so as not to put too much pressure on the grass. With gravity pushing on it all day long, one must to be kind to thank it for comforting our bare feet. For they are young and soft, like our hearts, like our hands, like our souls. We have so far to go, but are so near to home.

When I wake up, the world is new and you are old. You are old and somewhere I do not know. You are now someone I have yet to meet. The one you once were bid me farewell and I have never woken to his kiss again.

Every morning I yearn for the night again.

A few things to know

When I was younger I received the book The Polar Express along with a silver bell. My parents convinced me they couldn't hear it ring. I can still hear it ring. I may not believe in Santa Claus, but I believe in something.

I think that's important.
----------------------------------------

I used to say I lacked a filter; it used to be true.
I don't know if I have a filter, but I have a censor now.
When did I acquire it?
How do I give it back?
It's slightly dull.

----------------------------------------

In the world of facebook, blogs and text messages, we've been reduced to words... it's important to remember there are many ways to say "I love you"

Public Transportation: Adventures and Conversations

One of my sister's friends at grad school at the art institute has a blog for one of her classes. Here is a portion of the description:

"I decided to create this blog where people can share their experiences on the CTA, or/and at the bus/train stops. I hope to share few tips that I discovered to make the trips more bearable or even enjoyable, sometimes."
-http://ilikebusntrain.blogspot.com/


There are two things that I wanted to include in the entry I wrote below, but that didn't get mention.
One is that, as a theatre major, I will probably move to a city post-graduation. I consistently worry that the adventure and story-telling side of the transportation system will fade for me... as it is difficult to remain open and excited for adventure every day.

The other thing is something that Ryan, the pumpkin-carrying boy said to me on the train
Ryan: "You know, people can tell that you're not from around here as soon as you open your mouth. Do you know why that is?"
Me (wondering if my Northern Ohio accent is that strong): "Umm..."
Ryan: "No one else around here talks"

------------------

I don't actually live in Chicago, but my sister does so when I travel from my tiny Michigan town to "Chi-town," public transportation is part of the adventure, rather than a necessity of getting somewhere. In addition to this, I love making strangers not so estranged. These two things combined result in meeting some of the greatest people.

Here are four of my favorite ways I have met people:

1. Saying Hi:

My sister moved to Chicago (and closer to me) this August. I, along with numerous other family members, visited for her birthday. My sister, her boyfriend and I took the train across town to the hotel where the rest of my family was staying. There were just enough seats open on the train to make it silly for us not to sit down, but for the three of us to have to separate when we sat. My sister and her boyfriend moved to the back and I sat down next to a guy staring off into the distance who appeared relatively friendly. I sat for awhile, drumming silently on my lap when I finally said hello. He wasn't listening to music or doing anything that signaled 'don't talk to me' so I figured it was okay. Plus sometimes you just need to at least acknowledge each other (hello may be substituted for even the head-nod to get the ball rolling). He returned the greeting and before 2 stops had passed I learned he had raced at a cross country meet I had watched that morning. He was from Midland, MI and was the summer training partner of one of the freshman on my cross country team at college. It's a small, small world. My new friend and I spent the next six or so stops talking about cross country training and recovery methods while my sister and her boyfriend sat next to silent strangers.

2. Offering Candy:

I wouldn't recommend doing this to everyone you meet, but you can tell the candy eaters. Many people will not accept your offer, but immediately afterwards you can make the joke "Oh… is it because I'm a stranger? Hi, I'm (insert your name here)". It's not the best joke, but it is one of my favorites. And now your seat partner knows your name and the door is open for small talk—if he/she so desires.

When my grandma passed away a fall ago I did not have my car at school and had to take a bus from Michigan to Chicago and then all the way to Ohio (Cleveland area). Including the waiting, the trip ended up totaling around 12 hours. I met many people on this trip which helped it go much quicker. While waiting in the bus station in Chicago I met two nice middle-aged men as well as an older, free-spirited gentleman through this method. I had a long philosophical talk about whether or not time existed with the free-spirit heading to San Francisco and discussed making the right decisions while you're young with the two middle aged men, one returning to Houston after not finding a job in Chicago. Maybe not everyone cares about these topics, but I do and they are a great way to give meaning to time.

3. Giving compliments:

In general people enjoy compliments. I have found the best kinds to give are ones directed at something controlled by the individual. Does the scarf appear hand-knit? Remark on it. Do the buttons on their coat appear hand-sewn? Notice it verbally. People are flattered when someone likes something they have created. This includes commenting on how the whole ensemble "just fits together". Sometimes you receive a polite thank you. Occasionally you receive a whole story and a beaming compliment-receiver.

On the same trip I listed above I saw a boy with these amazing pants all made of patches. He was sitting three seats ahead of me, but once when he glanced back I stepped out on a limb and yelled up that his pants were awesome. The trip was a longer one, so a few stops later when the woman (rereading her favorite book, which she recommends (yes, it's okay to ask), on the way to visit her granddaughter) left, he moved back to tell me about them. My new friend told me how he'd spent the last few months traveling from music festival to music festival with his girlfriend who was now in South Carolina. She would make pants and sell them or trade them for food. He was wearing a pair she had made for him. All he owned were those pants, the rest of the clothes he was wearing, a change of underwear, a bookbag, a sleeping bag and a notebook. I had brought crayons and asked if he wanted to color as we waited for our stops. He did. When I left I gave him the bag of bagels I had brought with me. I hope Todd's doing well…

4. Bringing a pumpkin:

I have only done this once, but it brought much laughter, conversation and bulkiness while traveling.

I drove to Ogden Dunes and took the South Shore line into Chicago. On the way, the girl who I was sitting next to me remarked that a pumpkin (along with my two bags) made for an interesting seat partner. I laughed and told her I was taking it to carve it with my sister. She was on her way to take her engagement photos with her fiancée who attends Moody. We alternated between conversing and studying and it made for a wonderful start of my trip. We are now facebook friends. And in case you were wondering, yes her pictures turned out beautifully.

Upon arriving downtown I stood looking at a map to find the nearest brown line to take to my sister's house. A guy around my age stopped and asked me what I was trying to find. I told him and he was also taking the brown line so I followed him. As we shuffled down the busy streets, me dropping my bags and almost my pumpkin, he offered to carry my pumpkin. Usually I would have said I was fine, but I was slowing us down so I took him up on his offer. He carried my pumpkin and helped me as we got onto the train. We talked and shared stories of our past. Another man joined in our conversation and switched the topic to different sorts of pumpkin or squash pies. I didn't have much to say about them, but it was interesting to hear someone so passionate about them.
While making conversation I consistently attempted to not block people from exiting. At one point the train started to move again while I was moving out of a person's way and I nearly wiped out with my pumpkin in my arms. Then ten or so people behind me laughed with me as we imagined what might have happened had I not, at the last possible second, caught myself on one of those silver poles in the center. With the help of Ryan, the boy who originally carried my pumpkin, I got off the train at the right stop and was on my way. According to Ryan he's usually shy. I refuted this by stating that he had offered to help me. He laughed and replied saying that he couldn't help but stop to help "this poor girl with a pumpkin in her arms".

Of course, this does not help in defining privacy and some days everyone you see on the train wants to bury themselves in their books or i-pods, but on those days when there's a person or two "open," take advantage of them. Acknowledge that they exist and invite them to acknowledge you. You will often leave the train or bus feeling oddly renewed. After all, someone took the time to talk and to listen. These sorts of things are important.

Kind of like a Sad Solidified Puddle.

Telling people how they should feel is crazy.
It doesn't work that way.

Crazy? I was crazy once...

Want to know a secret?







... I don't actually believe I'm crazy.

People tell me it all the time and I admit it to a lot of people. I claim it as part of my identity. Yet, in reality, I only admit that people say it because it makes me someone unique, someone worth noticing. People say it to my face and behind my back. And it's not that I don't "get it". I acknowledge what they observe. Okay. But that, my dear friends, does not make me crazy.

It just makes me not you.

I was taught the ABC's, but either song works...

The following message was just sent to all of Hope's campus...
I can't help but wonder if our deputy status is limited to Hope's campus or if our jurisdiction includes the rest of the county or state... or world...

Probably not world, but you get the idea...

Hand Washing Police

All Hope Students, Staff and Faculty are from this day forward deputized as hand washing police officers!

Hand washing – PROPER Hand washing – is the Number 1 way to

prevent another episode of this viral illness!

Proper Hand washing means:

• Using Soap & Water
• Work up a lather and cover all surfaces of your hands, fingers, finger webs, under the nails and even up to your wrists.
• Continue to lather-up for 30 seconds – which is about how long it takes you to sing the Happy Birthday song. Sing so everyone knows you are doing your duty to protect our community!
• Rinse under running water.
• Turn off the faucet with a paper towel or use your elbow if a paper towel is not available.

Be ASSERTIVE! If you are in a public restroom and see that someone is trying to sneak away without washing their hands – or doing a quick “zip-zip” under the water….politely ask them to return and wash their hands properly.

Roommates – listen for the singing! If you don’t hear singing before someone comes out of the restroom – ask them to go back and do it right!

This Noro-like virus could return if we are not ALL diligent with our hand washing!

* Remember…those of you who had this are not immune to a second, third, fourth….. illness/infection.

More and Less

There's a counting crows song that asks "what would you change if you could"? And I've always heard it as, what would you change in your past if you could go back, but today I am hearing it in reference to my current state (of being and of living situation). And the answer...

• More sleep, less smoke
• More peace, less noise
• More time, less to-do

I went home this weekend.
I'm ready to go back.
Although, while I was on the road or stuck at Eastern, I just wanted to be back here so I could have things in order. Perhaps I just want things in order, and then to pause and go enjoy some serenity.
Serenity, that's hard to come by...

Either way, it was a great adventure this weekend. Between seeing MSU, spending some time in Ann Arbor (for the first time ever), visiting with Jess, Beth and their mom, being home with my parents, getting abroad stuff somewhat in order, stopping by Eastern, spending time with Jackie and Kyle, and- well, the Lincoln Street Garage (222 Lincoln St., Ypsilanti, MI-- I recommend them) it was an interesting trip indeed...