when you arise in the morning

think of what a privilege it is to be alive, to breathe, to think, to enjoy, to love. [marcus aurelius]

I woke up this morning, realizing the gifts continually being bestowed upon my life. These gifts I receive undeserving, that pass by unnoticed, taken for granted by a greedy, gluttonous fool. I am the fool. I have a vague memory of Alane's storytelling, she came upon a spiritual discussion with a hippie in Pasadena. He told her that God is all around. He is real and evident, and if she didn't see Him, to look in the sounds of laughter, the compassion of others, in the faces of her children. "Look at all the things you love and try to imagine where those things came from, could hope and love come from any other place?" he asked her. Some days I'll feel so distressed, blundering in the pits of my lowly existence, stomach twisted up in knots, like my heart's been ripped out and stepped on. Oh, you should be erupting with sympathy for all of my problems, that one negative/critical comment said in my direction in the last 24 hours, that test I didn't score as well as I should have on. Or, I could stop thinking about myself, because I'm sure a child starving to death, dying from disease or AIDs in Africa, a paralytic, an outcast would side that I have it pretty bad. Actually, I have some odd filmstrip playing over in my mind, making me feel stupid and silly and racked with guilt, of this starving child bawled up in the corner, suddenly looking up at me, "Uh, suck it up."

The point I was trying to make, inelegantly put thus far (so i'll have somebody else say it), is the true things that bring about joy are service. As Morrie says: "Remember what I said about finding a meaningful life? I wrote it down, but now I can recite it: Devote yourself to loving others, devote yourself to your community around you, and devote yourself to creating something that gives you purpose and meaning." So that isn't groundbreaking, an incredible new concept, or anything we haven't heard before, but I've had my priorities so skewed as of late, hearing this is very refreshing. As Morrie was dying he said, "Giving to people is what makes me feel alive. Not my car or my house. Not when I look in the mirror. When I give my time, when I can make someone smile after they are feeling sad, it's as close to healthy as I'll ever feel."

The truth is, I believe of myself to generally maintain good spirits. I don't ever feel truly depressed, because I am so distracted into laughing, but everything is based on how I am feeling, I do live day in and day out keeping my own values and my own desires above that of God's plans, God's values, God's desires. And how can I be of use to God if I am not willing to be? I can't. Once again. The selfish fool is I.

I worked last night at a Children's Ministry Party (sponsored by the Bridge. hooray!) at Roger's Elementary, and nothing pulls on your heartstrings like the innocent, longing eyes of a child. I worked at the photobooth, where Nissa borrowed costumes from the WWC drama department, even had a backdrop, lighting, 2 racks of costumes, and a full table of masks and hats. How fun it is to play dress up! To be whatever you want to be long enough for a snapshot - in my case it was a cow (without utters. so according to aaron, a dairy bull) and minnie mouse the pirate. These are the things I aspire to be. Actually, I want to be like a child: simple, genuine, true of heart.

the unmundane

Open your eyes, and you'll see a world full of beguiling irrelevancies. So charming. So interesting. So unrelated to your prior obligations. As I am sitting in the reference room, I see all sorts of distractions, suddenly at their peak of interest and charm -- Chinese philosophy, American proverbs, the history of crime, Spanish poetry, lets not get started on people and voices and laughter, the dirt Logan brought into the room on his shoes, the rhythms I can make with my heels on the floor and my pen banging on the table. Stream of consciousness, what is on my mind? pulmonary arteries, visceral peritoneum, A&P lab homework and quiz next period, NO WAIT - dinner last night, that one conversation, that friendship that means a lot, that design I want to work on, the suspense in that life is always moving forward, and it's mindblowing the capacity we have to learn, to mature, to breathe, to enjoy, to think, to love, to live. Focus. Stop. You have lab in 10 minutes. Study!

poverty is not a disgrace -- just an inconvenience.

I want to apply to be an SM (student missionary) next year. I know in the past i've been stifled by indecision, feeling like the timing wasn't right -- missing opportunities for the sake of complacency or apathy. But let this be a written act of my heart, that right now I want to give selflessly and want nothing in return - that God does not judge on performance, but willingness. I know it's a daily/reocurring decision, waking up everyday and deciding where to put your trust and focus - but I would like to put myself in situations where I could best learn to live this out. The same heart of mine that bawled coming home from 3 weeks in the Philippines from seeing the gluttony of Americans and the luxuries we take for granted (and it didn't take me long to fall back into my old selfish ways), would love to be heart-broken for a whole year and exert such pain and compassion into helping others less fortunate. Be the change you wish you see in the world (Ghandi). And as St. Augustine once prayed, I would like to as well: God, give me the serenity for the things I cannot change, courage for the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference. Few of us can do great things, but all of us can do small things with great love (Mother Teresa). I don't know what my future holds, but all I'm saying is I want to serve and be willing to be molded by my Creator.

may your life be like a wildflower

growing freely in the beauty and joy of each day
[native american proverb]


this quote's for you nik ♥
p.s. for those of you without a blogger, you can post using "other" or "anonymous" and would love it if you would

fridge mysteries

Uh. Why exactly does our refridgerator smell so potently nauseating? Ehh. Ew. Why?

I've emptied all of the food out, washed it all out with soap and water (even have baking soda that is supposed to absorb the smells) - yet STILL, I open it later to the same putrid smell.

For those of you who know my mother (who is strong and beautiful, illogicial at times, MAD i tell you!), when I was 10 years old, we were driving along when we came upon a fox just newly demolished by a passing car. She immediately stopped the car and collected the remains of the fox's depleted carcass, wrapped it in a towel, and tossed it in the trunk. She is a teacher at a tiny private school, where one teacher is handed the responsibilities of few students in many classes ranging from all ages - (her primary focus was grades 7-10 science and math), and cancelled the normal curriculum for the day. She also, drug along, my 4th grade substitute (my grade at the time) for her mischevious experiments. I still remember her face, beaming with genuine excitement,"I've never seen roadkill so fresh!" And then, the dissection began - all day long, reeking the classroom of rotting carcass.

The relevance of this story is coming soon, really. Later that day, the dissection process was asked to be stopped, politely, by the principal, because, my the substitute teacher had cut his finger (rather deeply) through his latex gloves, and apparently, this fox was not tested for diseases, like rabies for instance? which foxes (at the time) had a 60% chance of having.

A week later, a good friend of mine, Nikki (who was in my mother's biology class) was loading up the car with food for People's Kitchen (preparing meals at a homeless shelter), and noticed a rather large lock on the top freezer. Why was this locked? When asking my mother (the sponsor) she immediately turned red. Yes. The fox was being preserved for rabies tests in the school's kitchen freezer, the one where they prepared hot lunch from every weekday. The fox turned out to not have rabies (what a relief!). And while this actual story doesn't pertain to a smelly fridge (because it was locked, on its own, in a freezer and wasn't mixed with the food we ate), it does remind me of the OTHER time my mom kept an octupus in the mini fridge in her classroom (and she did keep other food in there this time) and made all of the other food smell like dead sea animal. So when I whipped out my popsicle, all packaging reeked of so, and even the food, a little (at least that's the way I remembered it).

But the moral of the story, and a little 3rd grade health - your sense of smell and taste are connected - a smelly fridge is contaminating my wonderful food (and you don't even know the deep love I have for this food). And while I may be slightly exaggerating (because I do that a lot) at the current foul odor of my fridge (because it hasn't yet quite reached the rank of the dead animal) - it still is making me slightly annoyed. And you all should feel horrible and sympathetic at the unbearable trials that life has violently thrown in my direction. Bah!