Hopelessness is an illusion

Sinking into contentment feels so good and comforting after wandering and searching. Holding onto hope is challenging. Often it feels that the minute I begin to hope is the minute yet another story of some unspeakable atrocity committed against children slams into me.
Illness. Death. Rape. Lost jobs. Lost relationships. Sometimes it seems that hope, not hopelessness is the illusion. Sometimes I wonder how human beings can inflict so much pain on each other in the most tender and breakable places.
I guess that's what makes real hope so incredibly poignant. Because the truth about hope is that it endures in the darkest places.
Children who experience assault and yet continue to fight for their innocence by not giving up on their life and their dreams. People who stand on the sidelines and cheer friends and family facing constant life and death decisions regarding cancer. Artists who tell stories for those who have not yet found a way to share their voices. In the darkest places, hope shines the brightest.
One kind act can illuminate the faces of others who also have the capacity for kindness. Isn't it amazing how bright one candle is in total darkness?
What if we dared to hope? Not in ignorance of the realities of this world, but because in these realities there are so many tales of heroines and heroes.
I am so privileged to know such beautiful stories of courage. A kid who battles internally with the concept of following family into gang life, yet writes such compelling stories of truth and insight. Another kid who grows up so fast in losing a dear cousin yet finds meaning in helping others who have experienced similar painful losses. Friends who fight for their relationships with loyalty and bravery.
See, the truth is that when it comes to hope, the smallest spark matters. So keep hoping friends, and may courage and kindness guide your actions. You are so deeply loved.

29.

Maybe 29 won't be so bad. I know exactly what my dreams are, and I am finally beginning to build confidence that my dreams may actually be achievable. I still get carded so at least I still look closer to 20 than 30.
I actually like my friends because I handpick who I spend time with now. Each of them are unique and interesting in their own ways. Each of them teach me something new about the world we live in. Some of them make me laugh. Others are around for the heartaches that come with the field I work in and the way I choose to live - authentic and open.
I go to church now because I actually want to. No one tells me to go, and even if they did it wouldn't matter. I actually really like my independence and where I am at in life.
I am still young enough that my dreams are possible, attainable. I am old enough to hopefully make better decisions about my future.
My parents laugh when I say I feel older this year. I get it. I know in the scheme of it all, I am not THAT old. It's just the first time in my life I feel like maybe I won't be young forever.
Some say age is just a number. Maybe it is. Some say age adds wisdom. Maybe it does.
The truth is that my generation will quickly become in charge. Soon I will see my peers running for office instead of older white men that often appear to have no idea what actually occurs for the rest of us.
Will we continue this path we are on of choosing the bottom line over the well-being of real life human beings? Or will we do something new and different?
Will we be able to pick up on the good things set in motion before us yet discern what must change?
Will I get to live in a society that figures out how to fund both education and care and protection for the elderly without taking those funds from homeless shelters?
I don't know. But I certainly hope so.
Suddenly 29 seems very young indeed.

Duck Medicine

All is calm on the surface. Barely a ripple. Ducks are an incredible example of peace on the outside, mad struggle underneath.
My dad explained this concept to me. When firefighters find themselves in a new or scary situation, they appear calm yet underneath they are scrambling. Hence the term; Duck medicine. That phrase is comforting and revealing. I suppose we all feel that way sometimes. Even big strong firemen.
Lately I have felt that way more often than I would like to admit. Storm below the surface, calm on the outside. Trying to patch holes in the titanic before it sinks.
Not that I'm sinking, not exactly. Just paddling hard to stay in the current.
Sometimes it's hard to trust that good things will come. Sometimes it's hard to believe that the work I do really does make a difference. Sometimes it's hard to feel at home in a new place in life. A new phase.
The thing about school is that I had an identity in it all. Student. If I didn't have plans on the weekend that was actually beneficial to my grades.
Now I find myself in a place of rediscovery. What do I fill my time with now? How do I find purpose in the small things now that my big purpose finding a career had finally become part of my life?
I'm not sure how to answer these questions today. But I'll keep on paddling until I find my current.

Confessions of a Gleeker

Strumming the strings on the guitar flooded my mind with happy memories. Kind friends who pitched in together to buy that particular instrument for my graduation. Cute boys who taught me chords and strum patterns. Warm college days singing and making up new sounds just for the fun of it. Joy surrounded my heart and I smiled at the happy memories.
What is it about music that touches me? What is it about lyrics that grab me and make me finally feel understood?
Some of this musical nostalgia undoubtedly stems from my recent Netflix addiction to Glee. Bursting into song on any occasion with the drama of a soap opera, Glee is a fun indulgence.
I wish we could sing when we didn't know how to say what we are feeling. I suppose my kiddos at work would run out of my office if I asked them to sing out whatever was bothering them.
What is it that makes me afraid to sing out? What stops me from sharing my voice, my thoughts in song, with the world around me?
What stops you?
There are days when I feel so confident. I feel beautiful and smart and like every person I meet is fascinating, worth knowing. Funny how those two things go together. When I feel better about who I am, I feel better about who you are too.
It's been tough to feel confident lately. Another birthday is coming nearer. Although I've accomplished what I wanted to professionally. My dream of having a husband and a family feels even further away then it did before all my recent transitions.
My confidence in myself has to come from deep within. I don't have anyone telling me how beautiful I am on a regular basis. So I have to tell myself that I am beautiful, and I'm not always believable.
Expressing myself through music, through writing, through art, help me to see just a bit more clearly. Because the more I see myself as a confident, beautiful woman, the more I see you for your true beauty. So this post today is a reminder that you are an incredible human being, worthy of love and admiration.
Spread the beauty.

Butternut Squash

After a particularly challenging day at work, I'm learning to choose a new recipe to attempt. Today it's butternut squash and some kind of egg and sugar mixture. It's in the oven now.
Baking is solace because it allows me to actually watch something I touch turn into something better, something tasty.
All these separate ingredients aren't particularly fabulous on their own. Raw eggs aren't even technically allowed to be eaten anymore. Sad day when that was decreed. Not that it stopped any of us from stealing cookie dough out of mom's bowl.
Sometimes working with people feels like I'm only working with one ingredient. And I only get to play one part. Most of my work is built on hope.
The hope that my small part in a kids life is enough to add to the pieces in their life. Enough to at least get them through a rough patch even if it's messy. I get a glimpse. I am thankful for that glimpse. Heartbroken too at times. So incredible that kids survive and even thrive right where they are at.
Today I'm leaning on hope. I have to. I have to trust that something bigger than me cares so much more for these kids than I do. I have to trust that one day at least most of them will find how to live their life in the absolute best way they know how.
And I have to leave it at that.
So here's to all the people who choose to be kind. You may never know how far a kindness can go. You may never know the fullness of the part you played. But I hope, that when life is rough for you, someone is kind to you too.
Oooh, something smells really good. Time to get that butternut squash out of the oven and enjoy a completed project.

Toast to the New Year

One of my favorite things about the week between Christmas and New Years is that I get a chance to reflect. I am one of those girls who finds journaling in coffee shops satisfying. After several soy hazelnut lattes, I am hopeful and excited for the year to come.
This past year has held many changes. Literal in the sense of finally snagging that elusive MA. Figuratively in the sense of shedding the role of student for the role of professional. I still like using the word professional, just for fun. Yet the biggest struggles I have found are in what to do with all that time I used to spend studying. I'm pretty sure I had friends and hobbies before I went back for more education.
Now I find myself on yet another journey of rediscovery. Who am I without school? Who do I want to be? How do I find the confidence to continue to pursue the dreams I still have for my life?
Sometimes it is far easier to go home at night, shut the door and turn on the television. And even though it is often reruns of Gilmore Girls, one of the best shows ever produced I must say, I know that I'm not done dreaming.
That thought excites me and encourages me. It's good to know I can still dream. Good to know there is life after school. Good to know I'm not done yet.
And neither, dear friends, are you.
A quote from the beginning and end of that fabulous chick flick, Pretty Woman.
"What's your dream? What's your dream? This is Hollywood, everybody's got a dream."

Lessons from Middle School Girls

"When I am mean to people, my heart hurts." The middle school girl sitting across from me has stunned me before with her insight. Yet this phrase resounded with me in a deep way. Too often we, ok, I refuse to take responsibility for my involvement in hurting people around me.
This girl has experienced a deep and painful loss in her young life. Instead of turning bitter and angry she is becoming more and more kind.
It is easy to remember what is difficult about my job. The kids that are stuck in painful places and all I can say is, "well, what can you control?" It is easy to feel like there isn't enough I can do to make sure they are safe in their homes.
Then there are days like that. The days where remarkably a student has made a crucial connection about the way his or her world works. Something small changes, yet their whole world is different.
When I get the profound privilege of witnessing those changes, I am learning to let that remind me that people can change. Kids can find enough strength to survive another day, come to school and actually try in that tough class.
Pessimism is easy. Giving up is easy. Being sad is easy. I think that's why I so often spend time dwelling on sadness. I don't think ignoring it is the answer.
When you are late for work and somehow every light is red. You get so frustrated, how could this possibly be happening, you want to shout. The thing is, that maybe you get that many red lights when you are on time to work too, you just didn't notice.
The good is out there too. Sometimes I just don't notice.