My Dream

I had one of those dreams last night that hangs with you throughout the day. It's mostly random and non-sensical, but some parts I found interesting.

I woke up late for class (ironic for a dream to begin with waking up, no?) and my big paper was due. I was so rushed and late and panicked. My paper wasn't printed out yet and class was already starting. I rushed around and jumped on my motorcycle to ride to school. I was watching myself ride, careening down the freeway and the brakes weren't working. Finally, I figured out that I had to push the down arrow key on the laptop do get the brakes to work. But too late! The bike fell over and the rider (me) flew off and skidded across the gravel. At this point I was the rider in person again. I lay on the ground looking out dimly at the gravel so close to my face and the freeway blurry in the background. Blackness started crowding in around the edges and I knew I was losing consciousness. I wondered if I would wake up again. I wondered if I did wake up again if it would be in this life or in some kind of afterlife. I hoped I would wake up at all. What was scary was oblivion.

A moment later I heard a stream of running water. Relief poured through me. I was not non-existent. I opened my eyes and there was a Native American Indian standing over me smiling. He was busy cooking. I guess he was God in my dream. He said his name was Hasmopeet, and when I asked what his name meant he told me cheerily that he had already told me that he won't tell me what his name means. And that it was only fair because I wouldn't tell him what my name meant.

The storyline of the dream here got a little confusing so I'll be brief. I'm not sure any more if it was still the afterlife or if I was really alive again. My friends, Rachel & Jeff were there cooking lunch for us. And suddenly I just knew I needed to mourn. Overwhelming grief consumed me and I burst out "I just need to cry! May I please have one of the dishes of coleslaw?" I took a small dish of coleslaw and began to weep and weep (while holding it). It was such mourning, such wrenching sorrow over something...past.

That was about the end of my dream as I remember it. That grief hung around me a lot today. Not sure what it was even about.

I dream so often. Tim never remembers his dreams. I find them fascinating. I guess I was hoping that in sharing the dream with all of you that I would, in some way, be released from it a bit.

I'm Angry at Time Today

I'm angry at time today
Why won't it just slow down?
Give me a second to catch up?
Why can't I just be peacefully sick without all the world pressing around me and on me
Can I just have a moment, to gather my thoughts
I'm feeling left behind, caught up, whipped around
I'm angry at time today
I wish it would just go away and leave me alone.

Tired of New

Tim and I have been living in Durham, North Carolina for just over a month now. We are settling in fine; I managed to put in a small garden before school started, and Tim started a new job this last week! My classes are amazing and extraordinarily intimidating. I think, albeit nervously, I am keeping my head above water thus far. Our new home is charming and full of old world charm (and old world rundown-ness in some parts). The backyard is amazing! We have put up a hammock and had a bonfire already. Big trees lean over the property and the wind ruffles the leaves so that it sounds a bit like running water. All of North Carolina, in fact, is amazingly green! In a lot of ways, it reminds me of Washington. All that green, the changing weather, the mix of deciduous and coniferous. The only thing missing is that fresh air. Ah, the air that sears into your lungs so deep you had almost forgotten you could breathe that deeply. But I digress, all in all, we're doing great here.

There is a however, however. I miss feeling comfortable. Not in the sense that I am continuously agitated. I miss feeling continuously comfortable. I miss knowing exactly where all the grocery stores are. I miss my friends who could understand and love me in every mood because that is one of the gifts time can bestow on relationship. I am tired of new.

I think time will cure that also, but for now I am just giving myself the space to say, I want everything to be known for a day. (Not to be God mind you, just known in the sense of familiar). Familiar in the sense that even if it's unexpected, it's unexpected in a familiar way.

Cheers

(On an unrelated note, I started a new blog-ironic no? It's mostly observations and papers from my experience at Duke. But if your curious it's here)

Diversity....A Decision? A Gift? A Journey?

Well. It's been a-while. Tim and I have journeyed across the country and are now settled in Durham, North Carolina. I start classes at Duke this coming Monday and am going through all of the nervousness, terror, thrill, euphoria of beginning this journey.

This last week, we were put through orientation. To orient us to the college, the community, the worship, the atmosphere of our new home. I have never been asked SO much "What denomination are you?" I feel like I don't even know how to answer that question. I want to say, "What denomination am I not?" but that feels ignorant. What are they getting at to ask that question? Do they want to know my theology? Do they want to know if I'm a true believer? It feels like it's meant to categorize us all away into all our niches. And I know I'm sounding horribly post-modern here. Forgive me. I guess I just don't understand the question. But. Here's what I've come to realize:

The culture of the south is "Christian". Anyone and everyone is christian. To ask what denomination someone is, is to ask "What's your background," "What history do you have," "What do you believe about x?" and sometimes "Are you really a Christian or just a christian?" and "Are you like me?" But is it so wrong to assume (or at least be okay with) everyone being "christian"? Is that such a fatal error?

I guess in some ways I can appreciate the question. It orients us to some degree, it sums up a little of our history and what we affiliate ourselves with. But in other ways, I feel like it just begins to divide us again into little camps. Here's us, there's you. But of course we are all different; even in the same denomination we are different. Is it necessary to divide it up all the way down? Maybe so. Maybe not. I'm journeying :)

One of the speeches in our orientation was on diversity. I was pleasantly surprised that it wasn't the cliche "Be nice to the differents" speech. The speaker wonderfully articulated how all of us, even in the littlest of ways, separate ourselves from the different. We say, "I know you think that, but unfortunately, it's wrong. And that thinking is weak. I could tear you apart up one side and down the other." And the speaker, Dr. Willie Jennings, said, "I urge you, beg you, when you are in these situations listen to the other person. Listen to what they say. Stop talking. Build community with people who are different from you. Seek out people who think differently." And I did feel challenged. I like people who are open minded, who think well, who don't define a religion by a prayer.

Anyway, we had a guest over the other night. And I have to say, I don't know when the last time I was challenged so much. I am learning to be comfortable simply not liking people. We all have differences; it's natural that we wouldn't all get along. But on the other hand, how am I doing at embracing diversity if I can't be around people who are SO different from me?

I find a war within myself (help me Candace): how do I balance not liking someone and not wanting to be around them at all and still being open to learn from those who are different from me and being willing to allow them to be themselves with me? How are we to embrace diversity and learn from those who are different from us if they are not returning the favor so to speak? If he who is different from us is so close-minded and judgmental about everything, how can he have the mindset to embrace diversity in me and learn from me? If it's not returned, if it's not mutual, does it become damaging to both parties? Or at least to one? Do we "embrace" them at arm's length and hold close those who understand us?

Ultimately, what do you do when you spend the entire night wanting to shout obscenities and drink copious amounts of alcohol just to cope with your company?

Who says a girl can't celebrate solo?

Well, I'll start off by saying that my husband threw me the most smashing surprise birthday party this last Thursday. Full of delicious wine, scrumptious chocolate and all my besties (minus Noah) popping out of closets and from behind chairs! AND all this was after the most romantic and special picnic dinner with my Tim. Could NOT have had a better birthday celebration. I felt loved and special and celebrated.

On my actual birthday, both Tim and I had to work. I taught a class in the morning and right as I was finishing, Tim had to go close the store. Kind of a bummer, but I came home and was SO proud of myself for thoroughly enjoying the afternoon by myself. I took great joy in just enjoying the liberty to do nothing. I sat in the sunshine, read magazines, watched an old Dorris Day movie (Calamity Jane). And THEN. I cooked myself the most amazing dinner. I had fire roasted artichoke, baked potatoe, corn on the cob and the most delicious rib eye steak with a touch of chevre seared on top. And yes, I BBQ-ed them all by myself! I lit candles, dimmed the lights and had the most romantic lovely dinner with myself. And the best part was, it wasn't sad at all. I was so content to sit there and reflect on my life: where I've been, where I'm going, how I'm feeling at this point, etc. It was nice! 

And then! My dad called and said he had sent me a link of a video to watch. It was a Happy Birthday Tribute to me! So I sat and ate my ribeye and watched my childhood flit across the scene. So many happy memories. So many happy experiences. SO much love. I was amazed. Not that I remembered my childhood any differently; it's just different to relive it. (And I felt SO special and loved the my dad had taken the time to put it together for me!) 

All that to say, I had the most wonderful birthday week! Full of love, friends, memories, food, gardening, teaching... all the best in life!!

So, albeit belated, I give you full permission to have a glass of (whatever you please!) in honor of happiness, celebration, and love!

And here's the link to the video for those of you who haven't seen it yet :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_vw4WfnQT9g

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes!

I'm a Dukie! I can't quite believe it myself, but the reality of what I applied myself to is finally beginning to sink in. What have I gotten myself into?!

As life changes happen, they hit me in different waves. Euphoria, excitement simply for change itself, pure terror, questioning, excitement, more terror, peace, exhaustion, and on it goes. I am so thrilled to begin studying again and using my brain. I am completely floored and honored that I get to study at Duke. These last few weeks I have definitely experienced the aforementioned waves, but the most predominant feeling has been excitement, butterflies, giggles and the sheer delight in planning: where will we live, what will we do, what route will we take to drive across the country?

This morning, I feel something different. Something closer to sadness. We've definitely had a run of it here in Sacramento. There's no doubt in my mind that it is time to move on. All of our friends are leaving too. Some to Portland, some to Spain, some will stay here. But it definitely feels like a wind of change came to us all. But it's still sad to leave. It's still sad to see a chapter so definitively close. And lately, I feel the huge weight of responsibility that it was my actions, my dreams that caused this change. It's me that's asked our whole family to move across the country. It's me that has asked my husband to leave all his friends, the promotion he's been working his ass off for, the comfortability of a home, of assured income, of friends. And I know he is more than willing. Tim is my coach, my cheer leader, my encourager. He would do anything to see me happy, to see me succeed. And I suppose that lessens it a bit, but I still feel that weight.

It's scary too, knowing that there's a good chance we're walking into a huge marital challenge. Balancing two loves, finding time for each other. Doing completely different things. And the possible feelings of purposeful and purposeless.

These last few weeks, I got a job at Kaplan and have been thrown back into studying, teaching and balancing working two jobs, seven days a week. Shortly after I got the job, Tim's job changed him almost primarily to work nights. So while I get off at 1 to come home and study for Kaplan, Tim leaves for work at 12:30. It's been difficult to find time to do things together. We have been so good about finding ways to connect throughout the day and make the time we have meaningful, but it's hard to simply not have daylight together. I know that this short season is completely invaluable in that we are being taught how to flexibly work to stay close. We are remembering what it is like for me to be diving back into books, or as Tim says, "in the room, but in no way present." I know that this is a foreshadow to balancing school and work next year, but it's already getting hard. And I just want it to be fun for awhile. I just want to relax and not work for two weeks. I'm tired of balancing; I'm tired of having to work at it. And I'm damned proud of us already.

So thrilled? Yes. Terrified? Yes. Anxious? Most definitely. Doubting? No. I know this is where we're supposed to be and where we're supposed to go. And who could really be that upset about getting to study in a castle?

Change on the horizon!

I think we all feel it. It must be something in the water. Change is preying upon us, and I have to say, for my part it's most welcome.

These last two years have been full. I have felt myself deepen. I have lived through the ugliest in people and the most beautiful. I've had the worst allergies you can imagine. Tim and I have survived joblessness, poverty. I've thrown myself into gardening and painting and tried my hand at creating different spaces. I've become the lady of my own home. Yes, it's been full. The real full. Not the full that's busy, the full that's big person-building roots being stretched down.



I have been a tree these last two years. Some roots went so deep and developed root rot; some went even deeper and have given me life. I weathered heat, wind and cold. I allowed myself to be miserable and quiet through the winter and now feel the thrill of pushing out new buds. The promise of life is on my horizon.





And here we are my dearies. All loving each other fully and still tenaciously pursuing moving away. What strange birds we are. I am so excited for us all! Moving to Spain, moving to Portland, moving to the East Coast, moving....with each step in each of our lives, I feel the thrill of excitement and a pain of sadness. Is there a way to move and have adventure and not say goodbye to what we have?

To our spontaneous glasses of wine? Our dancing parties? Our late afternoon sangria and beer floats? To gambling football parties? To complaining about work and corporate america?

Perhaps it does make each droplet of time spent with you sweeter, more treasured. I love you all

*disclaimer: Why do I have no pictures of us all together? And I couldn't find pictures of all of us! :(

The Treachery of Corporate America

I've realized something about myself recently. I am determined to believe the best about people. Sure, maybe they're a little bitchy. Sure maybe sometimes she's kind of a ditz. He said that? Well, maybe he really meant this. And on and on it goes. I think usually this is an excellent quality. I want people to be the best they can be (go ARMY). I encourage them to believe that they are the best about themselves. But lately, this quality has, quite frankly, caused me misery.

A few weeks ago that my lovely co-worker, who is all good and kind and considerate (bahaha!) found a document on her computer that I had written and accidentally forgotten to close before she came in. Granted, I shouldn't have been dumb enough to have it on her computer in the first place, but still. She and I have hung out a few times outside of work and I have shared with her some of the heartache I went through last year with the betrayal at Disciple's Church (sounds like a movie...Betrayal at Disciple's Church). So naturally, she says nothing to me, prints the document and trots off to show it to my boss. Awesome.

I should have known better. I have seen these two throw people they "care about" under the bus like it was nothing. They probably wouldn't bat an eye if they were told it was part of their job to drown kittens. But for some reason, I never really believed that they would do that to me. I'm their friend! I've had them over for dinner! We laugh together; I've comforted them through death & break-ups.

As if that wasn't enough, I just learned that she also told our boss about the troubles I've had with Disicple's Church and how that might affect my relationships with some of my co-workers who still attend there. Betrayal has definitely been on my "Learning List" this year. The questions I'm asking myself now are

How do I acknowledge anger and deal with it healthily?

If anger and bitterness is natural and part of the process, how long before it becomes destructive to myself?

And how do I continue working successfully in an environment that is so toxic? How do I be Julie here?

"Cordianally" yours,

JRM

School, Change and Monotony

As the deadline for graduate school application draws closer, the theme song to "Jaws" playing in my head.

Feb 1st. Feb 1st. Nuh nah. Nuh nah.

I suppose I've been entertaining the idea of SUCH a change so much that I haven't given the possibility (and honestly, likelihood) that I might not get accepted to these schools. But I felt that reality sink in a bit deeper 
yesterday. In my mind, I'm already planning on when I can quit this job and begin relocating to the east coast. I'm dreaming about school, papers and walking everywhere I need to go. And I've been thinking about all that that entails: the adventure, the loneliness, the stimulations, the newness, the isolation. Good, bad, good, bad. And I'm so hoping and striving toward change; I feel a tinge of panic if I don't get accepted. I don't want to keep straggling along in this job where they don't appreciate me. And the questions arise:

What if I don't get accepted? 

What will effect the change for us? 

Where will we go? 

I just am finishing up being here in Sacramento. I sense this chapter closing. I suppose I just need to wait to March 15. That's when I will know about school. Thank goodness it's such a short waiting time. But I find myself already geared for something new. If it's not school, what will it be? 

What do you think? What shall I do if I don't get into school? Where shall we go?

Nah Nuh. Nah Nuh.

Perhaps it's the sound of change?

A New Year...??

Tart, vodka-y lemon drops have got to be the best thing in the world. They have carried me through countless nights of social anxiety, depression, celebration, and reflection. Tonight I sip one to cope. That's a word we use at work to describe how "our kids" (clients) learn socially appropriate behavior to handle how their differently wired brains respond to difficult situations. ...I find I have much in common with them.

A new year is classically supposed to feel like a fresh slate. We make new resolutions, leave behind our old unfulfilled ones and move on with the hope of the next year bringing x. This year, Tim and I had the lofty goal of being happier. As soon as he wrote it in his new blue journal, I almost teared up. How honest of us. And how sad. Let's be honest. 2010 has been a bitch. Am I right? You have had your children die, your husbands leave you, our friends betrayed us, we were all poor (I think)...am I missing anything? And for what? I asked myself. Good riddance 2010. I've never been happier to see a year in my rear view mirror.

Another sip of my lemon drop and I'm on to bigger (albeit more depressing) questions. Tim and I were musing about the world's population growing so large, and we jokingly were saying, "and another person was just born....and someone died...and someone else was just born...and someone just died." And it seemed so asinine that there are that many people in this world. Yet those births and deaths are just numbers to me--statistics. And to 99% of the world, I'm just a number. So in the grand scheme of things, we are all just being born and dying all the time. And what are we doing with our lives??? We are working at jobs to save for retirement so that we can decay in peace. OR we are spending every waking moment looking for food. OR we are running from corruption, violence, and who knows what else. And all for what???

Anecdote: When I was about 15, I attended a conference called DYC (District Youth Conference). Thousands of kids listened to sermons about witnessing to the lost and sang passionate love songs to God. And then! We all practiced what we learned and went out street witnessing to the poor general public (I say poor because I'm sorry they had to endure it). I don't remember much of it except one exchange. I walked up to a homeless woman to share with her the "salvation message". She looked at me and said, "Tell me. What is the point of life? Why are we here" and I remember, so distinctly, feeling the passion in my little heart and my eyes filling up with tears answering her, "to bring glory to God". I knew that was the answer, and I felt it so acutely. Her response was less than encouraging.

And now I find myself asking the same question: Why are we here? To experience love? To learn how much we need God? To experience relationship with Him? To learn how much it sucks to be human? To feel need? And I'm not just asking tritely. I'm not asking because I have an answer I'm waiting to share. Why are we here? I don't believe it's to find salvation. But I'm happy to be argued with...as always. (Sidenote: have you noticed how so many people don't like to be argued with? They don't enjoy the discussion I suppose. I love it; I think it promotes truth, journeying and relationship. Soapbox finished.)

Well, lemon drop is almost done and so are my thoughts. On to pour over my writing sample for grad school. Can I just say that I am soooo done with this corporate bull@$&*?? I don't thrive here. Suppose I should knit tightly with Musing's musings. :)

Thoughts??