Life from here

An Endearing Email

2012-02-05T13:02:00.001-08:00

Last Thursday, I received this email from a good friend and former student of mine in China; I was touched. I also find it so interesting and admirable how students will memorize full chunks of English sayings and use them (mostly) correctly.

Dear p, how are you these days?
Today is the first day of China's lunar year. Happy new year. I remembered that last year you sent me the scarf as my birthday gift,and I missed the cookies. You are 30 now,right? There is a saying ,"30 is turning in people's life, because people will get more mature physically and mentally ."Is that true?

I wish I could find a job in the new year,and hope the job is related to English.I f it is not,it's also ok.what's your plan in 2012? 2012 is a new beginning,not the end of the world.

Life is short ,we will meet many people.Some people are just passers-by ,some are the return.I think u r the latter to me although you are on the other side of the earth.
I have taken some art portaits. Here is the one.

Follow-up

2012-02-05T12:59:00.002-08:00

Well, it turns out I did not in fact know that man. And, he and his students were from Hohhot, not Baotou, (the place I had visited). I guess some stories just have to end without much adieu. That blogpost was one of them. But while that story might not be a very interesting one, I feel like everyday at school, has been full of interesting and unpredictable things. Maybe I'll write about a few of them soon.

Visitors from Baotou

2012-01-31T19:44:00.000-08:00

Today at our school, we had some visitors from a sister school in China, a middle school in Baotou, Inner Mongolia. I saw one of the visitors during a staff meeting; they peaked their heads into our classroom to check it out. I had a strange feeling that I had seen the man before. Is it possible?
Perhaps I have. Afterall, I have been to the city of Baotou before and know about a dozen of their middle school and high school English teachers. I did have a meal with one of my friends' leaders of the school. Hmm, yes it seems like it could be likely that I have met one or more of these people before in China.

This evening, in a quest to know for sure, I went to retrieve photos from my external hard drive. Much to my dismay, I don't have the correct cord to connect to my computer. So, I will have to rely on memory and maybe I will do some investigating of what schools exactly my friends teach at; I'm excited. Let the detective work begin.

Oreos in China

2012-01-29T14:25:00.000-08:00

When I lived in China, I ate a lot of oreo cookies. More so than I ever eat when I'm living in the States. Why the difference? Because in China, oreos are quick and easy comfort food. Because it's a little reminder of home. Because you can buy them with peanut butter or ice cream flavored middles. Because you can buy them as wafer sticks or even twists. The last 2 years, you could even buy them in wafer sticks that had a coffee flavored creme in the middle. Because you can buy a package of 8 for about $.50.
Ah yes, the oreo in China.
I had forgotten my appreciation for these little guys until my dad shared this article with me from NPR: Rethinking the Oreo For Chinese Consumers.
Check it out.

Pretty People

2012-01-27T14:31:00.000-08:00

Once every 3 weeks, I am a greeter for the first service of the fellowship I attend here in the Twin Cities. I have enjoyed this fellowship for it's worship, community, truth, and encouraging messages. I also feel that I have something to give back to it, though I'm still discovering how do that.

Two weeks ago, I was a greeter with another young gentleman. This guy is getting his undergraduate in screen writing. He was pleasant to talk to and had a hair-cut that was spiky and asymmetrical. As we opened the door for people, I couldn't help but notice, couple after couple of beautiful people. And not just married couples, but groups of friends in tanned boots, coiffured hair, bright scarves, sparkling eyes, clear skin. Guys walking in with their blazer jackets, perfectly faded jeans, gelled hair, and big smiles. And I couldn't help but mention to the screenwriter, "Have you ever noticed how many beautiful people go to our church? It seems disproportionately high"
"Yeah, you're right." he agreed.

After we finished greeting, I went to the restroom to gear up for the service. I splashed water on my face and looked in the mirror. I was horrorified; staring back at me was the face of someone quite different than all the beauties we had welcomed into the church earlier. For I am old already, with dark circles under my eyes, gray hairs starting to bud out all over, and my ever-faithful adult-onset acne hovering on my forehead.

"What am I doing at a fellowship with so many beautiful people? What is it about this place that attracts this type of person? Help me not to notice or help me know what to do with it? Why do I feel like I don't belong here."

But I pulled myself together and sat in the sanctuary in the back by myself, and tried to find God. I looked around and saw some other people who looked very similar to myself. Tired, weathered and maybe also a little confused why they were there too.

And later that week, I read the verse "Man looks at the outward appearance, but God looks at the heart." And I was reminded that I need to stop noticing appearances and trust that someone else is looking at that place in ourselves that really counts.

Birthday Bash

2012-01-27T14:06:00.000-08:00

This past Monday night, I threw myself a 30th Birthday party. We ate pizza and gourmet chocolate turtle cake and played a couple games of mafia. It was encouraging to look around and see all the friends (and then some) I have here in the Twin Cities.

Outdoor Winter Sporting

2012-01-21T17:24:00.000-08:00

Here we are, gearing up for an afternoon of cross-country skiing in the lodge. These two students are visiting their professor who is a visiting scholar at U of M.

This is my colleague; she was a natural. I think she would have skied all day if there hadn't been time constraints.

This Winter, I have been enjoying some outdoor winter sports. Last week-end, I went with the Hospitality Center for Chinese to a Recreational area out in a suburb. This center had tubing, snow-boarding, and cross country skiing. My car load chose cross-country skiing. I remember cross-country skiing a few times in High School with my dad. We went for at least an hour in the empty field behind us. We could often hear the neighbor's dogs (coyotes) howling at us. We didn't care; we felt invincible in our snow pants, padded coats, and mittens. I remember it being easy; last week-end, I was proved oh so wrong.

As you can see a little bit from the photos, some of the course was hilly. The pro's would whip by on their pointed skates and swift arm strokes in perfect sync. The really good ones didn't even use poles. They moved their legs as though they were skating, their arms resting comfortably on their backs. Let's contrast that now to our group of skiers: we fell a lot, we went slow, we sometimes only used our poles especially when going uphills.

At one point while going down the hill, I thought I was going to die. It was at a part of the course that was a little steep. Even as I started going down the hill, I knew I was going too fast, and I wasn't sure how to gain control. My poles were extended like wounded wings; my legs felt as though they were being pulled into the splits. I barely held on to my upright position, swerving from one side to the next. And yet, somehow by the grace of God, I didn't wipe out. But my heart was sure pounding, and there again, my attitude wasn't the best "How is this cross-country skiing? I feel like I'm on a training course for the downhill Olympic try-outs?" And that was before I turned the corner and saw the equivalent hill going upward. "Grrr" I growled.

At the end of an hour, we were exhausted. I found myself not really enjoying cross-country skiing as much as I remembered. In a dark, empty, cornfield when form doesn't really matter and you don't have to worry about hills, you feel kind of awesome and adventurous. At the rec center in Minnesota, being passed left and right by pros in winter tights and goggles, you kind of feel lame. And I started to swear at each one of the pro's as they passed me, "**** show-off" I would huff into my scarf. That's when I thought it might be a good point to call it quits for the day.

And yet, I think we all enjoyed the afternoon and are better for the experience. Some of my friends think I'm really adventurous and like all outdoor sports; I let them live in the delusion because sometimes I live there too.

Just one of those days

2012-01-18T16:16:00.000-08:00

It's just one of those days when you kind of don't care anymore (about some things) and other things, you care a lot more than you should. Here are a few things that have me caring a lot...

1. I care a lot that I have been such a poor friend to some of my friends who live further away; I've been a little bit of the "out of sight, out of mind" mentality recently. :(
2. I care a lot that I have messed up on one small (but significant all the same) part of my job and let a student slip through the cracks. Sad, but true.
3. I care a lot that some of my friends are hurting and haven't experienced freedom.
4. I care a lot that sometimes I feel old and other times I feel immature.
5. I care a lot whenever I think about the orphan babes who do not have enough food or attention. Who die silently in their cribs, alone in this world, welcomed with wide arms and bottles full of warm milk into the next.
6. And I care a lot that time goes so fast and yet I waste so much of it.

Show me Oh Father, how to care about what you care about.

Some Joy Sprinkled In

2012-01-12T19:30:00.000-08:00

Recently, I have just been feeling so blessed by the arrangement of God's timing and provision in my job. Truth be told, it was not easy at the beginning. In fact, it didn't even really feel manageable until maybe about a month ago. But slowly, as the tasks have increased and varied, as students make progress, as our team works together, and as I find joy in simple things throughout the day, it feels manageable. And at times, maybe even enjoyable.

May I remember to give thanks to the Divine Arranger.

Meet Schroeder

2012-01-08T18:19:00.000-08:00

This past Saturday, it was so beautiful outside. The three of us met at the Como Park & Conservatory for a little plant and animal therapy.

This gorilla is named Shroeder. We liked him.

Apartment Photos

2012-01-08T18:12:00.000-08:00

Here are a few photos of my new apartment. I feel really blessed in that my apartment looked like this put together when I moved in, and I didn't really have to do anything except unpack my room.

Swing Dancing at the Caves

2012-01-03T20:28:00.000-08:00

I have always felt in love with the idea of swing dancing. Recently, my romantic notions have been brought down and put in their proper perspective. at the Wabasha street caves, my romantic notions were brought down and put into their proper perspective.

It all happened last Thursday evening. My room-mate and I were looking all cute and ready to dance it up at the Wabasha Street Caves in the Twin Cities. As soon as we arrived at the caves though, we sensed we were in trouble. It seemed that all the couples present had recently become engaged or something and were standing possessively glued next to each other. “No worries” we thought. “We’ll just start dancing with each other. Someone will surely see how much fun we’re having and want to cut in.” Unfortunately, it didn’t really work that way for a couple of reasons. First, the dance floor was super crowded, and secondly, as mentioned previously, it was a predominantly couples' evening with the only extras being female. So, I sat down in defeat and waited until my room-mate felt equally as dismal about the situation as I did so we could leave. It was at this moment that I noticed there was in fact one single guy in the room. He was an 80 some year old man with humped over shoulders, a striped navy dress shirt, and suspenders. He was digging through his pockets for a Ziploc bag of medicines. Finally, he found what he was looking for: a cough drop. He shakily started to unwrap it. I feel sorry when I feel elderly people struggling to do some simple tasks and was contemplating whether or not I should help him out, when he looked up and winked at me. I decided not to help him.

A few more minutes passed. Someone had approached me. I looked up to see this same elderly man smiling at me: “I see you tapping your foot there. You look like you’re ready to dance. Shall we?” he beckoned to the dance floor.

I hesitated a moment only because I was wondering whether it was a good idea (from a health standpoint) for him to be dancing when but a moment ago, I wasn’t sure if he needed help with his cough drop. But, I agreed and he held my hand and led me to the dance floor.

I’d like to say that he was this amazing dancer and we flitted across the dance floor like something you might imagine in the movies. But in fact, reality and gravity were too much a part of us. So we kind of just awkwardly shifted our weight around in a corner of the dance floor. He tried some new dance moves I wasn’t familiar with, but I did my best. The air around me smelt of musty clothes, old man, and cough drops. I’m sure that at some point, this man was an awesome dancer, winning over hearts right and left with his moves and charm. But with time, things slow down and get lost. Things like rhythm and hearing and balance.

Nonetheless, as the song ended, I felt happy that I had in fact danced with one guy for the evening. Feeling sorry for my friend who hadn't danced with anyone yet, I asked the gentleman if he would like to dance with her. His eyes got a little sensitive as he looked up at me and responded, “Well, . . . you’re alright.” Then he followed up with, “But if that’s what you'd like, . . .sure I will dance with your friend.” And just like that, in my sensitivity to my friend, I realized that I had in fact dealt a small blow to this man’s pride. I tried to repatch the situation quickly by saying, “No, I think my friend’s okay. I’m happy to dance with you.” The music began, and we started yet again to move our bodies awkwardly on the corner of the dance floor.

A simple prayer

2012-01-02T10:26:00.001-08:00

Oh Lord,
When we want to quit this weary world, please help us turn our eyes not inwards but upwards and find that you are there, and find that you are enough.
Amen.

Turn to Page 30

2011-12-30T07:04:00.000-08:00

Someone is going to be 30 soon. This same someone is trying to remain optimistic about it. So, she made a list of light-hearted goals for her 30's.

1. No more buying cardigans.
2. Slowly cut back on morning coffee.
3. Sleep in whenever possible.
4. Try not to be so obsessive compulsive. Namely, don't replay conversations thinking about what you could have said differently or how you could have ended it better.
5. Write more poems.
6. Hold more babies.
7. Curl hair 2 times a week.
8. Start jogging during the week (3 times at 20 minutes a pop; seriously self, how hard can it be?)
10. Work on Chinese: become a regular listener and commenter on Chinesepod.
11. Laugh more and join activities that facilitate laughing (game night, Jack Handey quotes?)
12. Give your friends specific encouragement about qualities you appreciate in them.
13. Say no to movie theaters.
14. Say yes to sledding and skiing and other winter sports.
15. Eat more cayenne pepper (helps with circulation.)
16. Drink more wine (purely health purposes.)
17. Make original mistakes in relationships.
18. Always be willing to host people.
19. Spend more time talking to the Father as you would a friend.
20. Spend less time requesting things and more time praising Him.

Happy Times

2011-12-29T22:05:00.000-08:00

The Pilot and Mr. Senator

2011-12-26T17:25:00.000-08:00

This past fall, I've had the good fortune to be on a couple of dates. Each one has been unique, somewhat romantic (at least at the beginning) and incredibly insightful. And although these couple romance interests have ended somewhat anti-climatically (a.k.a. ambiguously and awkwardly), I have learned a thing or two.

1. Give the date a nick-name. The first one fittingly became known as "The Pilot" and the second one became Mr. Thune, named after his look-alike counterpart, our SD state senator John Thune. (A couple of my girlfriends had another name for Mr. Senator, but I prefer to keep it civil on here.)

2. Buy something special to remember the date. On the first date with Mr. Pilot, I bought a book as I waited for him (an hour) at the Garrison Keillor bookstore and coffeeshop. By the time he arrived, I was kind of immersed in my book, wishing he would have been just a little bit later. On my date with the Senator, I bought a beautiful navy scarf with flowers on it. Wearing it made me feel beautiful and youthful, (perhaps too youthful as I later discovered.) But still, I was very happy to have a scarf on that chilly evening.
Note: The purpose of the item is not to remember the guy so much as it is to remember the experience; what did you learn? how could you improve in your communication? what new place did you discover and so on?

3. Be willing to let the guy go when it becomes clear that he is not that into you or was just playing. Letting go might include deleting his phone number from your phone and forcing yourself to meet new people. It might also include indulging in the memory of some nice things he said to you and then immediately recalling some quirky and annoying things he said to you. It's okay to think about said date once in awhile, but then try to distract yourself AND whatever you do, do not contact him.

Yes, it has been a very insightful season. And in the words of my new room-mate, "We are like the fruit at the top of the tree. Any guy that is worth it, must climb up to the top to win us."

Over the River and through the Woods

2011-12-25T21:25:00.000-08:00

Today for Christmas, we headed to Wilmot, SD to celebrate with my Aunt(s), Uncle(s), and cousins.

Ahh, sigh. There's nothing quite like driving in South Dakota, a breath of beautiful, clean air.

On the 3 hour trip, we stopped for gas at this great little shop near Watertown. Somebody insisted we get out and snap some senior photos.

Some of us were obviously naturals.

After we arrived in Wilmot, the guys went out shooting pigeons. (Note: they're not real pigeons; they look like frisbees and you throw them with an arm extension piece).

The guys all seemed really happy to be outside shooting their guns together. I was happy to be outside in the gorgeous weather with cool people.
Then, we had some nice time inside eating a delicious meal and talking.

It was such a fun day, and my only regret is that I couldn't have just 10 more minutes catching up with each person and that mom and I couldn't quite beat my cousins in ping pong. (But we're going to be practicing up for next year.)

Christmas Photos

2011-12-21T21:31:00.001-08:00

This year, I have thrown away a lot of Christmas photos. It's not that I don't love to receive them, look at them, and nostalgically reflect on friend and family in photo, it's that after that reflection period, I'm just not quite sure what to do with lots of pictures of happy families. I remember the year when I sent out Christmas photos of myself and 3 room-mates. I felt behind at that time. Now, 6 years later, I care less that any photo I might send out in Christmas cards would be my school ping pong photo from work. But obviously, caring less is still caring enough to write about it here.

Maybe words, more than anything else, have been my true gifts this season. Even if I rip up the paper or delete the email, it's the significance of the words that I never throw out. On a card from a boy that I work with at school, in his best hand-writing, "Portia, thank you for the cookies when I'm good." Or the words in another friends' email, "I thought of you the other day." Or maybe the words from another friend in a text message "I'm glad I have a friend like you." Or it might be the words from my brother on the phone, "I can't wait to hang out with you." And finally, the last and loudest words from a mother, "We love you! We're so excited to share this Christmas with you." These words, all framed like photos in my head represent to me, there is at least at times, some good will toward men or rather toward me. But sometimes these words don't come swift enough, and I find myself feeling sad and unsure of love.
And so, when I forget, as I so often do, I must remember to turn my eyes from the praise of others and the glossy faces in photos, and look to the only Words that can bring life.

"For to us a child is born, to us a son is given,
and the government shall be upon his shoulders.
And he will be called . . .
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace."
Isaiah 9:6

The Christmas Carol

2011-12-21T10:18:00.000-08:00

Last night, I had the wonderful opportunity to see The Christmas Carol live at the Guthrie Theatre here in Minneapolis. Oh man, it was 3 hours of theatrical delight as the audience together with the actors, were thrown into this classic masterpiece. Not only is the story riveting on its own, the acting, costumes, set design, and music was phenomenal. In fact, I left feeling that we had all made friends with Mr. Scrooge and sadly, that we could all identify with his ba-humbug spirit at different times in our lives. And yes, although we might not all have the money that Mr. Scrooge did, we all have the capacity to harbor coldness in our hearts.

This Christmas season, I have been powerfully reminded not to cling so tightly to pennies, not to count my minutes so closely, not to live so reservedly, in order that I might remember life only becomes joyful in praising the creator of it and sharing it with others.

Grandpa Strasser

2011-12-17T14:44:00.000-08:00

I saw my Grandpa Strasser the other day. Sure, it wasn't his same body, mind, or memory, but there was something about him that I knew I had met before. In his shaky hands, runny nose, and pale translucent skin. In his labored words, his kind vacant eyes and stiff lipped smile, I felt my Grandpa smiling back at me. And although maybe we can't just switch people around like that, I did but for a moment. And whenever I see this man and talk with him, I feel strangely like I am getting a few more chances to sit with Grandpa.

Marking Territories (an update)

2011-12-11T19:58:00.000-08:00

About a month ago, I wrote a post discussing some frustrations stemming from having so many women in one household. Several people posted some really great advice. I love how you guys have helped change my perspective. This situation has also changed a bit. I no longer try to be aggressive in finding a territory. Jenny, like you suggested, I'm more comfortable to come alongside someone in their territory and praise them for it. I also try to give the situation space when I feel claustrophobic. I don't feel that I have to be in every conversation or hang-out time. This has allowed me to create a territory that I call "mental space." I don't have to share "mental-space" with others. I feel entitled to it, and it helps me know how to relate better to people when I give myself that time and space.

At the same time that I have learned these things, I have also decided to move into an apartment closer to the city, closer to my job, and more ideal for the long-term. Still, I am thankful for these lessons and who knows when I'll find myself living again with lots of women.

Talk Nice to your Food

2011-12-11T19:41:00.001-08:00

The other day in class, the Chinese teacher told the students a story that had been printed in the Chinese newspaper. A student had done an experiment with 3 containers of rice. She set each rice container in the fridge. Each day, she opened the lid of the first box and spoke kind words to the rice. To the second box of rice, she did not say anything. Finally, to the third box of rice, she opened the lid and said cruel, cutting things to it. She repeated these same steps everyday for one week. At the end of the week, the first box of rice was white and fluffy; it looked better than it had at the beginning of the experiment. The second box of rice (that had been ignored) looked slightly crusty and yellow as week old rice should look. And the last box of rice that had received the criticism was black and moldy. The moral of this story was that if even rice (an inanimate, unliving object) is so sensitive to our words, how much more so are we as humans sensitive to the words of others. Please speak kind words to your classmates and friends. "请你们对同学和朋友们说好听的话”

An Experiment (Facebook)

2011-12-07T14:30:00.000-08:00

About 3 weeks ago, my friend and I did something a little bold, a little wild, a little counter-cultural; we deactivated our facebook accounts. I had been thinking about doing it for a couple months now for several reasons. One of the main reasons was that whenever I logged onto my facebook page, I noticed several things. Mostly, the lack of interesting things and posts on my own page, and secondly the plethora of interesting photos, posts, and comments on a lot of my friends’ pages. This phenomena made me feel kind of dull, flat, and even envious of others’ exciting lives. I also couldn’t help but expend too much thought and energy into the comments I would post on my friends’ pages. I would mentally filter myself as I posted, wondering who might see it and notice my wit or perhaps lack thereof. In a word, facebook made me feel empty. I was forever signing on looking for vitality and purpose, yet I always left it feeling disappointed. So, with the holidays approaching, my friend and I decided it was a good time to take the plunge away from facebook. So far, no major problems. Sure, I’m sure I’ve missed some social functions that are only publicized through facebook, and I haven’t been able to do any “researching” (stalking) on some of my facebook friends. A few people have contacted me and asked me why I am no longer their facebook friend. But for the most part, since deactivating facebook, life has felt less troublesome. I don’t have to worry about having a cool life according to facebook. I’m no longer trying to snap photos that make my life experiences look like something awesome. Each moment, I take as it is; I’m not worried about selling it.

I don’t have to feel behind or panicky when my peers post photos of their first, second, or third children. I don’t have to stay on top of Birthday well wishes or worry about filtering what I am going to write on my friends’ walls. I don’t waste time “researching.” I don’t look for someone online when I’m lonely.

Yes, the result has been quite liberating and has also freed up some extra minutes to enjoy life-giving activities. When formerly, I might have used an extra few minutes here or there to log onto facebook, and check out other people's interesting lives, now I’m not even tempted. Furthermore, the whole appeal of lurking purposely on the computer has also decreased substantially. In general, I feel as though I am tasting life more fully in the moment, being forced to actually pick up the phone or arrange a coffee date to talk with my friends, being pleasantly reminded to enjoy the experiences and people in front of me.

A Date

2011-12-02T23:06:00.000-08:00

On this day in December, I had a date.
Up until the last 20 minutes of it, it went very, very well. But if I could change the last 20 minutes for the entire evening, I would not. Why's that? You might be scratching your head.

Well on this day, I learned many things about the relational world that I could not have hoped to realize without this night, this date. I learned that what people claim to be in themselves might be the very opposite of the thing they are trying to resist (in themselves.)

On this day, it was brought to my attention that I am not a tall, blonde, athletic, Swedish girl. But strangely enough, since this comment was made by said gentleman, there has been some divine grace poured out upon me, making me feel more beautiful and confident by the second.

On this day, I was painfully reminded that there are some topics that shouldn't be discussed on first dates. Although in the moment it might feel so natural and comfortable to share with first date, and well "he asked," it's still wise to avert deeper issues and wait until a more permanent friendship has been established. After all, why does he need to know or share that super personal stuff anyways?

On this day, I decide to be more cautious and less romantic about first dates in the future. Because after all, either there is a second date or you have just wasted a week in anticipation for that first (and last) date with this guy.

On this day, I am very happy to be a single girl, writing about first dates that will lead to nowhere (except perhaps heightened self-reflection) while drinking a cocktail in a basement in Minnesota.

Random Thanksgiving Musings

2011-11-29T19:34:00.000-08:00

This Thanksgiving, I got to enjoy extended time with family. The strange and beautiful thing about family is you can be yourself, let your true colors shine, and just process life in its rawness and for the most part, your family will just accept this as you, as normal. On Thursday, after we had eaten a small feast, we all went in our separate directions. Literally, we parted like the Red Sea. The younger folk took the basement, the Aunt and Uncle took a rest, Grandma took the couch, I went to the hotel, and mom went to do some errands. And you know what? We were all pretty content to be apart for awhile and catch some winks while we digested our turkey and cream laden sweet potatoes.

Then in the early evening hours, some of us went on a walk through an enchanted forest. Yes, enchanted. It was wonderful. We had delightful conversation and walked for what felt like 10 minutes even though we were out for over an hour. As we returned, we felt our stomachs making way for something a bit more. Mom made a delicious pizza dip that we enjoyed with chips and bread. We also had some slivers of cheesecake. A surprising combination of deliciousness!

And as we sat around the table, we shared stories of Grandpa Friesen. His life, his last moments, his wit, his faith. And as we told these stories and heard new ones, we all understood something more about our heritage, our identity. I looked over at my Uncle during this reminiscing time; tears were forming in the back of us eyes as we laughed and shared. I looked at my Grandma who listened with pride to hear stories from her husband's life. And I wouldn't trade this Thanksgiving for anything.

And then, we all played a silly game of Time's Up where we all had to act a bit ridiculous.

And the next day, on the drive home, I felt tired and sentimental all at the same time. Sometimes when I get to feeling this way, I don't want to talk to anyone; I just want to be alone with my thoughts. So I drove and tuned out the world with my ipod. The South Dakota highway passed quickly under our tires, and before I had time to even start reflecting on the meaning of the week-end, we were home. And of course, no sooner than the four of us had eaten supper, did we part again. Dad and I went to a concert at church, and mom and Shane watched TV upstairs. But like I mentioned earlier, there is such a peace and understanding when you're hanging out with family. You don't have to pretend to like this or enjoy that. You just are, and you know that if you are different, it's beautiful and interesting. And I'm so thankful for that this Thanksgiving!

Walking around and stuff

2011-11-22T20:45:00.000-08:00

Despite the changeable weather, the past couple of week-ends have been filled with good company while enjoying wonderful, extended walks outside.

And in only one week's time, we've gone from a soft covering of golden leaves to fresh snow. But with a little extra padding, even a walk in the snow can be a beautiful thing.

Marking Territories

2011-11-19T19:37:00.000-08:00

I know that we frequently think of dogs as having their own territories. It’s common knowledge that dogs “mark their territory” by peeing on things such as tree trunks and corners of garages. But recently, I have the feeling that dogs are not the only creatures that have the need to claim and mark their territories. I think women also have this need. And right now, I’m in the somewhat uncomfortable process of discovering how the marking of these territories takes place.

Here’s my question: How many women can comfortably live together before imaginary territory boundaries get crossed and things get crowded, caddy and possessive. Right now, I live with 3 other women. I imagine that all 4 of us, including myself, have a territory where we have become the guru of sorts, the top dog in that particular realm.

For example, there is the territory of the kitchen. Who is the master of the kitchen? Who enjoys baking, cooking, experimenting, looking at recipes, and can whip up muffins from scratch before you or I could run to the store for a pre-packaged Betty Crocker mix.

Then there’s the territory of being the sensitive listener. The person who is sensitive to the relational happenings in the home. Other people’s ups and downs. How everyone’s week has been, how that difficult coworker has been acting at work and so on. The relational consultant whose own needs or issues are never brought up in the face of everyone else's emotional needs.

Then there’s the territory of being the cool girl who is all up to date on her fashion. She knows all the recent movies, random stories, and all the trendy styles. She knows what cool people are doing and she follows suit.

And then I guess there is the territory of not knowing what territory you are in so you try to stand gently in each territory for a moment or so. You see the territories clearly and feel there is no room to snatch a small plot of land for yourself. You climb a tree and sit alone like Zaccheus only unlike Zaccheus, the view only discourages you. The territories are all clearly marked with their flags waving fiercely, boldly. And even though you don’t really want to stay in that tree, you’re not sure where to set up camp. So you consider a sex change or moving to Australia or following the example of our dear canine friend and strategically peeing in 4 corners of the house.

In China, I was also on a team with anywhere between 4 to 6 women at a time. This also presented some territorial challenges at least initially. One of us was known for teaching, one for ministry, one for relational sensitivities, one for Chinese ability, one for kindness and compassion, and so on. At first, it was hard not to compare our gifts against the gifts of the other women (especially when our students were so quick to point out everyone else’s specialty to us.) But somehow as we had the chance to develop our own, unique relationships and “territories” within the community, we had more space to grow and pull from the strengths of our team-mates. We learned how to maneuver ourselves by adapting to use each others’ gifts as the situation called for it, and we were blessed and well-rounded because of it. That seems like the ideal, and I wait for it now… from the not-so-secure spot on my tree.

A Negative Post from an Optimist

2011-11-18T16:53:00.000-08:00

Today was one of those days when you want to come home and forget that you had any part to do with it.

Today was one of those days when I made students cry. Who would have known that this 5 ft 1 in beast of a woman could be capable of such cruelty when seen from the eyes of 6th and 2nd grade boys at the threat of calling mom and doing extra homework.

"Meanie" and "Perfectionist" those are my new labels from the day.

Today, that's me. . . the "meanie" who expects completed homework and respect. Unfortunately though, name calling and tears do not necessarily equal respect. Respect, cooperation, that seems to be the thing I cannot find, the thing I cannot cultivate. And I curse my female genes for making me seem weak and emotional as I see my boss wield his male voice and stature over these students.

Unlike the students, no one cares if I cry or have a mental breakdown. There's no therapist or IEP plan in this study called full-time work in America. And for every one step forward one student makes, another student takes two steps back. That's not even counting how many steps backwards I am taking everyday out of discouragement. And at the end of the week, I just want to escape my day, to escape myself and these thoughts that feel like poison.

But the day and its vivid memories swirl around in my mind and make me skeptical that I'll ever have another good day at work.

Joy

2011-11-16T20:05:00.000-08:00

The other day, I had one of those days that was filled with joy. It was not necessarily because anything extra special happened, but I was able to consider things all joy... thankful.

Purpose

2011-11-12T20:19:00.000-08:00

This evening, I was talking with a girl who is really involved in small groups at church. She also works full time and goes to school. "How do you accomplish all these things and still do life?" I asked her?
"Well, when you do things that are purposeful and meaningful, you don't feel tired; you feel refreshed" she answered.
I agree with her, and now I find myself looking at my life, my schedule, and wondering...why do I feel so tired? What are the things that I'm doing without a purpose? How can I eliminate those things and replace them with things that are going to be purposeful?.
And so I am challenged this month, to replace all the time I spend worrying with activities that are going to bring joy and give life.

Ｉｎ　ａ　Ｆｕｎｋ

2011-11-10T10:37:00.001-08:00

Still feeling stuck and a bit discouraged. My friend keeps reminding me to live by faith and not sight. But both of them don't seem to be ｖｅｒｙ　ｐｒｏｍｉｓｉｎｇ　ｏｐｔｉｏｎｓ　ｆｏｒ　ｔｈｅ　ｍｏｍｅｎｔ．　

Ｉ　think sometimes people say "live by faith"　ｔｏ　ｂｒｕｓｈ　ｏｖｅｒ　ｇｅｎｕｉｎｅ　ｃｏｎｃｅｒｎｓ　ｏｒ　ｓｉｔｕａｔｉｏｎs．　Ｉwant to live by faith, but Iｆｅｅｌ　ｌｉｋｅ　ｍｙ　ｆａｉｔｈ　ｉｓ　ｎｏｔ　ｓｏ　ｓｔｒｏｎｇ　ｒｉｇｈｔ　ｎｏｗ．　Don't misunderstand me. Iｓｔｉｌｌ　ｈａｖｅ　ｆａｉｔｈ，　ｂｕｔ　ｉｔ　ｆｅｅｌｓ　ｐｅｌｔｅｄ　ｗｉｔｈ　ｓｈａｒｐ　ｌｉｔｔｌｅ　ｓｔｏｎｅｓ　ｔｈａｔ　ｈａｖｅ　ｌｏｄｇｅｄ　ｔｈｅｍｓｅｌｖｅｓ　ｉｎ　ｍｙ　ｈｅａｒｔ．　

Ｓｏ，Ｉ　think for me, living by faith ｒｉｇｈｔ　ｎｏｗ　ｄｅｍａｎｄｓ　ｍｅ　ｔｏ　ａｌｓｏ　ｔａｋｅ　ｓｏｍｅ　ａｃｔｉｏｎ　ａｎｄ　ｍａｋｅ　ｓｏｍｅ　ｃｈｏｉｃｅｓ　ｔｈａｔ　ａｒｅ　ｇｏｉｎｇ　ｔｏ　help ｇｒｏｗ　ｍｙ　ｆａｉｔｈ．　Iｗａｎｔ　ａ　ｃｈａｎｇｅｄ　ｐｅｒｃｅｐｔｉｏｎ　to see my situation and Iａｌｓｏ　ｗａｎｔ　ｔｏ　ｓｔｅｅｒ　ｍｙ　ｌｉｆｅ，　ｍｙ　ｔｈｏｕｇｈｔｓ　ｉｎ　ａ　ｎｅｗ　ｄｉｒｅｃｔｉｏｎ．　Ｍａｙｂｅ　ｍｙ　ｌｉｆｅ　ｉｓ　ｇｏｉｎｇ　ａ　ｄｉｆｆｅｒｅｎｔ　ｄｉｒｅｃｔｉｏｎ　ｔｈａｎ　Ｉ　ｔｈｏｕｇｈｔ　ａｔ　ｆｉｒｓｔ　ａｎｄ　ｐｅｒｈａｐｓ　ｔｈａｔ＇ｓ　ｃｏｎｔｒｉｂｕｔｉｎｇ　ｔｏ　ｔｈｅ　＂ｆｕｎｋ．＂But either way, I　ｎｅｅｄ　ｔｏ　ｆａｃｅ　ｉｔ．　

I've been a bit　ｖａｇｕｅ　in the past couple of posts．　Ｔｈｉｓ　ｉｓ　ｌａｒｇｅｌｙ　ｂｅｃａｕｓｅ　Ｉ don't know why I　ａｍ　ｆｅｅｌｉｎｇ　ｉｎ　ａ　ｆｕｎｋ，　ａｎｄ　Ｉ＇ｍ　ｅｖｅｎ　ｍｏｒｅ　ｕｎｃｌｅａｒ　ｏｆ　ｗｈａｔ　ｏｒ　ｈｏｗ　Ｉ　ｃａｎ　ｇｅｔ　ｏｕｔ　ｏｆ　ｉｔ．

An Encouraging Word

2011-11-06T06:38:00.000-08:00

I’m reading a book by Mark Buchanan called The Rest of God. He talks a lot about finding rest and taking time to notice God in our lives. This morning, his words have been a divine encouragement to me:

“I used to think the spiritual life was mostly about finding and using our gifts for God’s glory—my utmost for his highest. More and more, I think it is not this, not first, not most. At root, the spiritual life consists in choosing the way of littleness. I become less so that Jesus might become greater. Its essence is No—No to ourselves, our impulses and cravings, our acts of self-promotion and self-vindication, our use of power for its own sake. It calls us to deny ourselves possessions, rights, conquests that we’re tempted to claim just because we can. It is growing, day by day, into the same attitude that Christ had, and by exactly the same means: emptying ourselves, giving ourselves. It is refusing to grasp what we think is owed us and instead embracing what we think is beneath us.” (Buchanan 101)

Somewhat recently, I have been stuck in self-promotion and striving. Specifically, I have some unspoken and perhaps imagined competition in my life; it lives beside me and everyday reminds me of its presence or my inability to overcome it. But I am so horrible at competition. Unwilling to compete, I quit or turn sour. But the words about becoming little, remind me that instead of being overcome or trying to overcome, I need to be saying no to myself, no to using power, self-vindication, or even my own worries to overcome this. And instead, I need to be emptying myself, taking my eyes off self and the situation and allowing him to fill me up.

Friends & Jogging

2011-11-05T14:48:00.000-07:00

They say that in dating, we often end up with the person who, when we look to our right or our left, is that person running at the same speed and heading in the same direction as we are. I'd like to propose that this is also generally true for how we choose our close friends. Usually they end up becoming the people who are running beside us in similar life stages or heading in a similar life direction.

So I look to my left, and glance over my shoulder to my right, and there I see my fellow runners, my friends. All unique in their ideas, refined by their trials, shining in their faith. In their strengths, I see my weaknesses; I wonder if they have the same feelings when they look at me.
And I give them all mental high fives, and we keep on running, sometimes set back by life, sometimes slowing down to be redirected, but always making our way forward.

Making It

2011-11-02T10:28:00.000-07:00

I almost didn't come in to work today; I was ready to call in and say I had come down with a kind of sickness that was mostly affecting my mental stability. But then I thought better of it.
So instead, I just made some very simple, attainable goals for the day. They are as follows:
1. Stay hydrated.
2. Don't lose your temper.
3. Smile at students that annoy you.

And here we are at lunchtime already, and I am still here, smiling a lot.

Moments like these

2011-10-31T19:46:00.000-07:00

An unforgetable day. . .
as memorable as these poses,

as bright as these leaves...
as beautiful as these friends...

Thankful for moments like these!

Act 1: Second Grade

2011-10-29T09:55:00.000-07:00

When did I grow up?

I still can vividly remember being in second grade with Mrs. Pidde as my teacher, copying cursive letters, getting my name written on the board, playing on the swings at recess, flirting with Evan on the bus. Now everyday, I work in a second grade classroom only I’m not a student. I listen as the students describe their families, their parents’ ages and occupations, and I can’t help but think that I too could have a child in second grade.

Yesterday many of these kids' parents were at the school to watch their children walk in a character parade. But the parents didn’t really seem like parents anymore; they seemed like they could be peers or college friends or team-mates. But they were there to watch their children, and I was there, looking mostly like a college student or a recent graduate. And I started to feel panicky. Like the curtain for a play has suddenly been lifted and everyone around me is an act or two further along in their life productions. But I’m still on Act One and the play doesn’t really seem to be going anywhere, and the characters don’t know their lines. And sometimes I can't really hear what the director is saying or I forget what play we are performing.

And second grade still feels like it was yesterday. And my life play still feels a little bit permanently stuck in Act One. Or maybe some Acts of this performance have not made the cut, and this production is more of a modern one.

Changes

2011-10-23T19:53:00.000-07:00

"Changes coming upon us, they keep moving, moving around us.
Got to keep dancing knowing he loves us,
Got to keep joy in our hearts.
So we enter a new time, there are places where it's a hard climb
but there are faces carrying sunshine, forming our path as we go.
Sometimes we may be lonely, it's a hard job making us holy
But in the long run, there will be glory, glory to rival the sun."

This is a song from the summer camp where I used to attend (SLCC). I loved singing this song around the campfire, feeling like all the changes that were about to happen would be okay and result in something beautiful.

Now, my life is kind of in the mist of what feels like an overwhelming amount of changes. Changes in job, in living situation, in relationships. Even the leaves changing colors and the winds sweeping in cold fronts are a constant reminder of the changes that continue swirling around my life.

But I'm the type of person who likes at least 1 week to adjust to even small changes. Changes make me feel anxious; perhaps my soul just walks through life a little bit slower than the rest of me. I remember the growing pains of being on staff at camp and feeling absolutely miserable the first 2 weeks until I adapted and enjoyed some of the best summers of my life. And yet, here I am needing to remind myself of my slow learning curve when it comes to changes. Changes that seem to be keeping pace with the leaves falling to the ground, falling around me, forcing me to my knees.

"Sometimes we may be lonely, it's a hard job making us holy
But in the long run, there will be glory, glory to rival the sun."

Dating

2011-10-19T18:07:00.000-07:00

So honestly, all I want to do recently is write about relationships and guys. I even wrote some of my very own "principles" for going on a date. I think the principles are a helpful, reasonable approach to dating. I plan to write them on cardboard and hang them on the inside of my closet door lest I need reminding.

Sculpture Garden Saturday

2011-10-18T17:55:00.000-07:00

This past Saturday, I went with a group of Chinese people to the Sculpture gardens here in the Twin Cities. I love the sculpture gardens; I love the outdoors in the Fall; I love hanging out with Chinese people. And even so, after a busy week, I was dragging my feet to do it and regretting that I had signed up for it. However, during the course of the day, it became more clear to me that I was in the right place. Neither the husband nor wife that rode in my car spoke English except for "beautiful" and "Let's go" and "DC" which didn't take us far for interesting conversations in English. This couple is just in the US for about a month visiting their son who studies here. They had already traveled to New York, Las Vegas, and some other place in MN.Despite all the places they had already seen, they were really excited to meet "a true American" (their words) who could also speak some Chinese. At one time, the man corrected my pronunciation, "Hang out with more Chinese people and you're Chinese will be perfect in no time" he advised me.

I loved to hear their perception of America too. "Americans have a problem with being overweight" the man told me. "Pay attention so it doesn't happen to you."
"I will" I said sincerely and then I reassured him that I eat fruit and walk a lot. "Especially eat less in the evening" he continued to advise me not convinced of my small attempts at slenderness.
He also wondered why Americans drink cold water while they're eating a meal. I can actually understand his concern as there has been some studies that show drinking water while eating can actually dilute the enzymes that digest food.

But perhaps one of the funniest situations to explain were the big wedding parties of people that were walking around the sculpture gardens taking photos. "They're taking photos right before their wedding" I explained. The man laughed at me and corrected me: "They're not having a wedding now; they're just taking photos for a wedding that will happen in a month or two." And then I remembered how in China, that's usually how it is done. The bride and groom have a wedding photo shoot literally a month or two before their wedding so they can have the wedding photo album sitting at the entrance of the reception. I did my best to explain that in America, most people will take their wedding photos (including all 10 of the wedding party) right before or after their wedding; I'm still not sure they believed me.

Overwhelmed

2011-10-13T19:16:00.000-07:00

Yep, I don't know what I'm doing; it's been pretty solidly confirmed in my mind. I walk between two main classrooms and try to discreetly slip in and out without making a stir. In the classroom, I sit beside the students that need assistance with the task. I redirect them to stay on task or explain the homework to them. Many times, they are in their own world, so I take them out of the classroom to work on homework in a small little office room. The little office room feels safe somehow in the same way a prison cell feels safe for prisoners who are scared of the other inmates. In the hall, other students see me and are confused: "Are you a parent? What are you doing here?"
"I am a paraprofessional" I respond...mostly because they don't know what that is and then they quit asking me questions. I move through the building awkwardly trying to be helpful but not overstep the teachers' authority. I speak Chinese most often in the classrooms but will revert to English sometimes in the hallway. Sometimes I don't know if the Chinese speaking is more important or if getting the student to complete the task is more important. I help an older boy with his Chinese; he told me today that he doesn't want to learn Chinese at all. I don't know how to motivate him. I work with another younger boy too. I try to be patient all day, until I get in my car. Then I want to speed, but there are traffic jams so I just swear at people from my car... and feel overwhelmed.

It's likely no coincidence that I'm experiencing all these emotions too while I am overly tired. Since the pending job change, I haven't had a normal week for 3 weeks now. I feel the weariness all the time. Most recently, I make a lot of poor decisions or deliberate over small, insignificant ones. "Should I buy carrots for dinner tonight?" I have over-extended myself for people I don't even know while I fail to respond to emails, text messages, and phone calls from close friends. When I do respond, I sound like a mess; I think I'll quit responding for a bit. I haven't called my grandma in over 2 weeks. I shower less and sometimes don't even brush my teeth in the morning before I leave for work. Yes, I feel a little overwhelmed with life right now.

In over my Head

2011-10-09T18:47:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I start a new job.
I feel a little inadequate. I will be a paraprofessional (teacher's aide) at a Chinese immersion school in the Twin Cities. The main task will be working with different students who have learning disabilities or who need some extra help in different subjects. Did I mention that I am a bit overwhelmed and feel in over my head?

Last week, I went to the school a couple of days to get my feet wet and learn the environment. In the very first classroom, I was thrown into helping students complete a story problem worksheet (all questions written in Chinese of course.) One boy looked at me and said, "Teacher, how do I write the 'zero' in Chinese."
I had no idea. "Don't worry about that problem" I redirected him while thinking to myself "Crap!" And that's pretty much how I have felt the rest of the week, "Crap."
I am nowhere near a master of Chinese, and I was never good at Math even when it was in English. On top of that, I don't have any experience working with kids who have some special learning needs. And here I go to bed knowing that tomorrow will be a day full of all that.

However, there is peace that comes with accepting that the first week, and likely the first month, will be hard. I will stumble a lot. I will have to ask others for help. I will likely seem incompetent to some and overly confident to others. But, I am not here as a pleaser of men, and this job seems part of some big plan I can't make out or understand. So, welcome in emotions of peace and joy; you are needed here.

Expectations

2011-10-08T18:43:00.000-07:00

There is a lot to be said of having low expectations. If you expect less, you will usually be pleasantly surprised. Does this sound cynical? Maybe so, but the result of having your expectations exceeded is actually quite refreshing.
Here's to a life of expecting less.

The Art of Forgetting

2011-10-05T18:13:00.000-07:00

I have one of those personalities that over-analyzes relationships. If only one could get inside my head for a bit, it might seem like I had a problem:
"If I do this, then they are likely thinking that what I really meant what this."
"Why did they say that? Are they being cryptic in trying to send me a message" or "If I don't smile at everything he says, he's going to think I'm uninterested" or maybe
"Why didn't they hang out with that friend last night; perhaps they are fighting. I bet they are upset at each other over X problem" and on and on the analyzing goes.

Aware of this unending processing, I have recently felt that a lot is to be said about the art of forgetting about relationships for a moment, turning off one's relational processor and just being. Yes, this is often best done after giving these speculations and worries to the Father but unfortunately for me, things don't simply disappear when I give them to Him...they still cycle around like clothes in a washing machine that's stuck on the spin cycle. So this week and week-end I have purposed it in my heart to practice the art of forgetting. To live in the moment for the relationships that are unfolding before me; not anticipating the future, not thinking about what's just transpired, being perfectly content and intentionally forgetful.

Random thoughts put together in a Post

2011-09-25T21:23:00.000-07:00

Life has felt really busy and tiring recently. I blame my poor time management skills. I also blame working 40 hour work weeks, half of which happen before a lot of people are even out of their cozy beds for the day. As a result of my busy-ness and lack of sleep, I don't have some grand, comprehensive thoughts about life right now. But here are a few random thoughts that I've been kicking around on drives to and from work:

Ways to save money:
a. Wash your hair every other day. This way, your hair doesn't need conditioner (the natural oils suffice to keep your hair from getting dried out.)
b. Eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. The PB fills you up; the jelly makes you feel happy.
c. Get the smallest portion while eating out. It's usually only .50 cents difference or so, but it all adds up.
d. Drink less coffee (I haven't figured out how to do this yet but it seems like a good life goal.)
e. Instead of buying an air freshener for your car, use the little perfume samples that come in magazines and stick it in your car for a week or so. Amazing results.

Ways to make life interesting:
a. Save the good fortunes from inside fortune cookies then plant them in strategic places in your workplace or tuck them into library books; they might be inspiring to someone.
b. Take a different route to work. ( I do this somewhat unintentionally on a regular basis. What an interesting life I lead.)
c. Try talking to yourself in your second language.
d. Listen to a new style of music; you just might like it.
e. Write a letter to a friend instead of sending an email. (One of my friends has been rocking this.)
f. Try to use interesting and more academically challenging words. (The Addingtons are the inspiration on this one.)
g. Make up some new and interesting words and try to use them naturally in your conversations.
h. Play a new game.
i. Invent a new game. Teach people the rules, then play a round or two.
j. Wink at random people... use discretion.

On Friendship

2011-09-20T17:35:00.000-07:00

Recently, I have been blown away by my friends. In the past couple of days alone, a couple friends have showered me with random acts of kindness. One friend wrote and sent me a letter; it was so moving, it made me cry. Another friend has hooked me up with an amazing job possibility. One newer friend called me today just to chat about life. And this has just been in the past couple of days. But on a consistent basis too, I have friends who read my blog and comment on it. Another friend often sends me little text messages. And finally, another friend frequently reminds me of all my good qualities when I'm feeling blue. Yes, I feel the love from friends. I am definitely blessed.

C.S. Lewis in his book The Four Loves describes friendship like this:

"But in friendship...we think we have chosen our peers. In reality a few years' difference in the dates of our births, a few more miles between certain houses, the choice of one University instead of another, posting to different regiments, the accident of a topic being raised at a first meeting--any of these chances might have kept us apart. But, for a Christian, there are, strictly speaking, no chances. A secret Master of ceremonies has been at work. ..The Friendship is not a reward for our discrimination and good taste in finding one another out. It is the instrument by which God reveals to each the beauties of all the others. They are no greater than the beauties of a thousand other men; by Friendship God opens our eyes to them. They are, like all beauties, derived from Him, and then, in a good friendship, increased by Him through the Friendship itself, so that it is his instrument for creating as well as revealing." (89-90).

I couldn't sum it up better than Lewis. Through my friends, I experience samples of God's loving kindness even when I am sometimes tempted to think (but for a moment) that he has forgotten about me. Here's a shout out to friends; you guys rock! Thanks for all the encouragement.

Poem Post #3

2011-09-15T20:57:00.000-07:00

This is an older poem I wrote to my grandparents I think shortly after Grandpa Strasser passed away; the poem is dated 12/31/08.
While living in China, I mourned the death of 3 grandparents; maybe this poem was somewhat prophetic. Regardless, death stings and takes away part of our hearts and part of who we were to and through that person. I feel annoyed when people pretend like death is okay because we will all be together in Heaven someday. Yes, maybe true...but that does not make the present reality feel any more complete.

A Poem for My Grandparents:

I just want to sit with you for a whole day straight…

And talk

or rather listen.

I have very little that needs to be said.

Right now, I just want to listen

Listen to your stories of good times and bad ones.

Even the stories I have heard every Christmas for the past 3 years.

I don't even care; I just want to be with you and hear your words.

And let you know how much I love you,

and also that I’m listening.

And if there are no words, that’s okay too.

I’ll just hold your pale, blue-vesseled hand.

I love both your gentle ways and your abrupt ones I don’t understand.

and even when you say something crazy and your voice starts to slur

I just want to sit with you

…and listen.

and maybe if I would just pay better attention,

I’d even understand your abruptness.

For in your words, I understand family traits

quirks that previously eluded me.

In your words, I find reasons of priority and motivation

both in what you say and in what you leave unsaid.

In your eyes, I see my parents.

with opinions and lifestyles different from your own

Yet strangely enough, as I listen, I respect both of you all the more.

I just want to sit with you,

and listen

and hear

And understand.

Dearest Grandparents,

If your energy is enough, and this world hasn’t left you too tired, will you please wait to go

Until I can sit with you for a whole day straight

and just listen

and hear

and gingerly hold your hand.

Poem Post #2

2011-09-14T19:04:00.000-07:00

This poem also took me about 10 minutes total to compose so bring on the Constructive Criticism. I've seen a lot of these types of women since starting to work at the airport. At first, they are off-putting, but now I see that they are just people. Maybe even sad people.

Curious to be someone else today.

To be pressed, and coiffured

pampered

and assembled together,

with every accessory matching

the face painted on,

…and flawless.

What thoughts go on underneath that creaseless brow

and perfectly golden weaved hair?

Her silver, sequined tank-top,

and gold-studded ears.

The channel handbag and Ralph Lauren fitted jeans

that demand respect

and a sugar-free, skim milk latte.

What does she think about her life?

Who asks her about her day?

Who loves her soul

masked by outward perfection?

Poem Post

2011-09-13T18:52:00.001-07:00

Hey all. I want to join some poetry writing contests. Why not? Life is short!
So, I'm looking for some hard-core comments and suggestions about this poem. I just plunked it out; it took me about 5 minutes or so, therefore, your comments are substantial. I'm going to try and crank out a poem a day for the next week. Let me know your thoughts or at least throw some verbal tomatoes at your monitor. :)

Here I sit

perplexed and haunted.

Alone, yet surrounded

and covered in thoughts

my own…

and others’ too.

I want to run away from myself

from my mind.

I can’t turn it off…

it ticks through useless information

about words spoken

glances cast

and words spoken

in jest.

To be here

punched out, yet mentally

working always.

Perplexed, and haunted

yet somehow content.

Still wanting an escape

from you and your glances

and your words spoken

in jest…or not?

On Being Woman

2011-09-07T19:43:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, I hate being a woman. I think too much; I analyze everything. I cannot turn my emotional / relational processor off. Recently especially, I have felt that the best kind of vacation would be one where I could escape my womanhood, to be completely wrapped up in some task and not allow my thoughts to drift for a moment to the relational.

And yet, here I sit...completely or mostly woman.

However, the other night, I did have a mental escape from myself. I attended a murder mystery dinner with a group of other 20, 30 somethings from the church I attend. The theme was a 1920's, Chicago mafia type scene. My character was MeMe Wannabe, and I was a matchmaker. Throughout the evening, I talked to people and tried to suggest they use my match-making services to find true love. My "husband" Don Wannabe and I were the hosts of the party. I think my husband was perhaps the most stoic, party-pooper I have ever met. Yet, our character information said that we were deeply in love. So, I continued to call him "honey" and "dear" and tell people we were deeply in love as he mostly avoided me and looked at me as though I were crazy. It was comical and not completely surprising to me; I would be matched with the one person who appears scared of women. But seriously, who could be scared of this?

Outfit breakdown: The Addington's had this white fur coat from the 1960's. I guess Louise's sister wore it to prom one year. The dress is a classic, black dress I've had since I was 19. The long pearls and the head piece were accessories I bought to help completely the look. And finally, the make-up was compliments of the Addington's 13 year old daughter. She did an excellent job; I hardly recognized myself underneath the coating of blue eye shadow.

State Fair Stuff

2011-09-03T20:05:00.000-07:00

Today, my friend Kate and I went to the State Fair with a group of Chinese students. I was dreading it because I was afraid of crowds and getting lost (which I do quite frequently.) But luckily, our 2 groups refused to separate into the recommended 4 -5 persons and we kept it at 10 people with 2 group leaders, Kate and I. It seemed that everyone felt happy with this arrangement. No one got lost because they were following me, everyone got to meet more people, and Kate and I got to catch up with each other.

Highlights of the day? Perhaps watching our friend here milk a goat for $.50 or cheering on another student as he joined the milk drinking contest. After the fact, I remembered learning that many Chinese people are lactose intolerant. Well, this guy rapidly consumed 3 or 4 cartons of milk after he had eaten strawberry ice cream, and he was still able to participate the rest of the day...maybe it's a myth or maybe he has built up a tolerance.

The first snack purchase of the day, cheese curds. Oh man, soft, white cheese, amazingly light batter, fried to perfection.
Someone forgot to take their "I visited the Oink booth" crown off.
This amazingly awesome ribbon says, "I milked a goat today." We encouraged him to wear the ribbon to his first day of classes.

Roasted corn was a big hit. Many people in China eat corn like this everyday for breakfast so it probably tasted like comfort food to them.

We wanted to see the infamous huge pig at the fair. But what a bummer, it had gone home. We were all very upset and rolled around on the hay and poop covered floor in protest (yeah, maybe not.)

Photos from the Lake

2011-09-02T21:04:00.000-07:00

I wanted to post some positive photos on here after feeling kind of dooms-dayish in the last couple of posts. These photos are from 2 week-ends ago when I got to hang out with some really cool Chinese and Uzbekistan students at a lake.

Tomorrow, I am going with the same group (Hospitality Center for Chinese) to the Minnesota State Fair. I'm anxious to experiencing the MN state fair for the first time while starting to build some friendships with students :)

On Barrenness and Checkers

2011-08-30T19:13:00.000-07:00

Recently, I have thought a lot about having children or maybe rather, not having them. Some mornings, it is my first thought when I wake...a combined reminder of my age, my single status, and a deep ingrained desire to have my life produce something more. Yes, literally produce.

It's on those mornings, that literally every peer I see seems to have a baby slung over the hip and another one running behind her. And it's all I can do on those days to hold on to a very thin wisp of hope that my life also has meaning, some greater purpose beyond myself. Recently, it's been difficult to find that truth, and a dark cloud has been looming over me.

My desire for children is not because I think it looks easy or fun necessarily, but it does seem part of some greater life experiences like losing a tooth, puberty, dating, working, marriage, getting sick, and even dying. Most people don't skip any of those life stages nor do they expect to. And yet here I feel as though I have skipped two of them, like being double jumped in a game of checkers. And because I'm not a strategic or aggressive person, I also feel hopeless to change my fate as my chips disappear before me: my hair starts to grey, my skin starts to wrinkle, and everything else starts to sag.

And in case you can't tell, I feel completely helpless in this situation. I try to distract myself with happy thoughts, Enrique Inglesia music, sermons on singleness, and random hobbies. But the dark cloud lingers, and I wish the wisp of hope were something a bit more tangible and didn't feel so much like losing a game of checkers.

Boy on my Mind

2011-08-29T21:43:00.000-07:00

Some days, no matter what I am doing, I just cannot help thinking about a little man who I left in Hengyang. His name is "hammer, hammer" (sounds much cooler in Chinese.) I don't understand how in a room of 15 or so kids one or two of them can just reach out and steal your heart; that's what hammer, hammer did to mine.
Maybe it was because we had been through a kind of life and death experience together when he nearly choked to death while I was feeding him, or maybe it was because he actually responded during reading time, or maybe it was because he wanted to sit with me during the Christmas program, or maybe it was because he laughed a little after I made fun of his burp. I don't know. I just know that some days, my tasks here in America feel so silly and pointless compared to the gift of hanging out with that little guy.

And while I am comforted to know that I am replaceable and that others have taken over the work of bringing joy (and snacks) to that room of orphan kids, my heart still has a chunk missing and Hammer, Hammer's fingerprints are all over it.

New Friend Update

2011-08-26T22:30:00.000-07:00

I received an email from Bee, the Chinese student I wrote about a couple of posts before. She invited me to her Birthday party next Sunday. I'm very excited and even better, I have the day off of work. Divine arrangement. Here are a few sentences from her email.

I'd love to invite you to join my Birthday party at my host family.

Join: some students from China, host family members (less than 15)

Food: pizza, ice tea, ribs, BBQ, vegetable, dessert, cake and so on

P.S. I am afraid you are busy lately so I dare to call you.

Bee

2 Random Videos

2011-08-23T20:05:00.000-07:00

These videos are unique only in their lack of substance and a climax. But, since I'm a bit homesick for China recently, I really enjoy watching them.

Shane and I on a boat in _________ ? (Bonus points for whoever can guess the river we are on.)
v

Amber and I playing some oui at our dear friend's house. This friend would be considered part of the upper class in China. Both she and her husband have cars. Their apartment is big, completely furnished, decorated, and in one of the most expensive complexes in Hengyang.

P.S. My new favorite thing just might be posting videos.

Cup of Cold water

2011-08-23T19:57:00.000-07:00

The other day, I was working at the Hospitality Center for Chinese. I had come in that morning to help coordinate some moves for later in the week. I felt overwhelmed being unable to get in touch with the people I needed to while other people were cancelling or rearranging their current move times which required me to get in touch with the people these changes were affecting. I was also trying to figure out how to check email and voicemail at the center. Oh yeah, and the keys to show furniture were missing this morning, and no one knew where they were and everyone else was in a meeting the entire morning. At the same time, Chinese students were coming in to look at furniture. All this to say, I was kind of in over my head and a bit frazzled. I couldn’t finish one task without another task popping up and distracting me, but I wanted to be cool and calm the students who were coming to a place with a title such as “Hospitality Center” seems kind of important that I be polite or something. It was at this time too, that I noticed a young Caucasian guy standing outside peering into the building through the glass doors. I smiled politely a couple times to him as he kept peeking in to see what was going on.

After he peered in a few more times, he opened the door and came into the building. “Hey, welcome to the hospitality center for Chinese. Can I help you?”

“Yeah, is there a pastor I can talk with here?” he asked.

“Yeah, there is. You’ll just have to wait about 10 minutes or so until his meeting is over.”

“What’s up?” I casually asked him.

"It's been the longest night of my life" he responded with heavy eyelids. He went on to explain his story: His friend and he had been driving somewhere in their car when it broke down. His friend got a lift with his family home while this guy just kept walking around hoping he could make it back to his apartment in Wayzeta. He wandered around all night and was exhausted. I offered him some cold water and filled it up a couple times for him. I also made small talk with him and tried to ask questions to find out more about what kind of help he was looking for.

I asked if he needed money and someone to call a cab for him. But, he said he just wanted a gift card to use for gas so he could give it to his friend who lived nearby to drive him back home. He said he felt bad asking his friend for a ride without offering him something for gas. But I guess he didn’t feel bad asking complete strangers for help. Yeah, I guess was pretty skeptical about his story, about him. But nonetheless, there he sat as I literally ran around, called people, and greeted Chinese students.

But after leaving the center, I realized that if this young man had been Jesus, then I had royally messed up. And for that matter, I should just acknowledge that in fact, I did mess up. For whatever help I could have given that young man, I would have been doing for Jesus. In light of that, my treatment toward him was pathetic. I didn’t offer him any of my own money. I didn’t even really believe his story. I was polite and gave him cold water all the while running around worrying about “important” tasks that were on my own agenda and seemed integral for the overall harmony of the Hospitality Center. But I wonder, how the story might have been different if I had sat down with him and told him about the cold cup of living water that never needs refilling.

Interviews: a Follow-up

2011-08-19T19:11:00.000-07:00

For those of you on the edge of your seats, wondering whatever happened after the "Interviews Make me Sweat" post, I'm happy to report that I am employed. The job is not close to where I live and does not pay great, but it is sure enjoyable. Ironically, I also feel that I can now finally and fully relax because I am employed. While I was unemployed, I felt guilty just sitting around writing, reading, and enjoying myself. Now, I feel like I can indulge myself which is partly why the month of August has had lots of blog posts. A friend of mine suggested to me that maybe I have had too much time to think recently. Maybe that's true, but I think when I have time to think, I also have time to write, and when I have time to write, I feel pretty good about life even when I feel kind of bad about it. (Can that be logical?)

So, I am employed at Caribou Coffee coffee at the airport. I have had 2 days of training now. I think I'm not super great at any of the skills yet, but I'm sure friendly to people and can empathize with their dark-eyes, dry skin, dehydration, and need for coffee. Right now, I'm at a different Caribou than the one I will be working at. I work with a crew that is quite a bit younger than me. They talk about baseball players I have never heard of, movies I've never seen, and their significant others. I just study the coffee menu and try to laugh sometimes or make mental notes to look up some key names they are discussing. Oh man, if only I had a dollar for all the times I have felt completely awkward in the past month, I could eat out for a week.

At the rate I am going, I have added one major thing a week. The first week, I moved up to the Twin Cities. The second week, I started volunteering at the Hospitality Center for Chinese. This week, I started my job, and next week, I will start taking 2 graduate classes in Teaching English as a Second language. An interesting, stair-stepper of a month.

Furniture Diva

2011-08-18T20:52:00.001-07:00

The past two weeks, I have been volunteering with a group in the Twin Cities called the Hospitality Center for Chinese.
My good friends Drew and Rachel first introduced me to the Center, and now I guess I'm pretty hooked and already feel a sense of duty. In fact, after about an hour of helping out at the furniture give-away for Chinese students, I was referred to as the "furniture diva." I don't write that because I think I'm awesome; I write it because I think they must be desperate for help if they are so quick to refer to me as a furniture diva. Fortunately for them, I am a sucker for flattery, words of affirmation, and feeling needed. So yeah, I'm hooked.

I have met about a dozen or so Chinese students already. Most of them seem fairly reserved and serious. I wish I could tear down their walls of skepticism, and let them know how much I can identify with their feelings of excitement and loneliness. But, I don't know how to express that to them, so I mostly just fish around for questions that I think might be interesting for them to answer. I'm pretty horrible at it, and would you believe that I ask some of the same questions that I hated in China. "Have you adjusted to the food?" "Where is your home-town?" "Where did you study?" and so on. So, as they are adjusting to a new place, culture, and identity as international students, I am also adjusting to a new role of befriending Chinese people while living in the States; it's clearly going to be a bit more difficult than it was in Hengyang. I don't have a supply of students here eager to chat about Twilight, dating, and other stuff.

It's been bothering me a bit, but I didn't realize it until today when I had a completely different experience. A student (we'll call her Bee) came in to pick out furniture. From the beginning, I could tell she was different and unusually comfortable even in this new environment. When I asked her about her host family, she bubbled over describing how wonderful they were and how cute their two daughters (adopted from China). And unlike a lot of the other students, she supplied lots of supplementary information about herself (really helpful since I'm off my game with asking questions). It took us only about 5 minutes to pick furniture because she was so content to get even the older, scuffed up furniture.

And perhaps the most bonding moment with Bee was when I was on the phone leaving a message to another student. I had wandered over to the desk area to get away from some chitter-chatter. Bee saw me near the printer that was spitting out copies, and with big eyes she quickly walked over to me and ushered me away from it: "It's not safe to stand near the printer," she explained to me as I was trying to leave a message on the phone. In that moment, I was so flooded with emotion, both slight annoyance and rosy nostalgia of friends who had done similar things with similar bizarre reasoning. And I was so distracted by it all that I lost track of the message I was leaving on the phone and just kind of hung up.

Maybe I am being overly optimistic about having a new friend in Bee. But, she did hang out at the center all morning, and she mentioned wanting to volunteer there. So yeah, I think it's very likely, that I might have a new, furniture diva friend.

A song

2011-08-17T05:49:00.000-07:00

Sometimes Jon Foreman just says it best. These lyrics are from his song, “A mirror is harder to hold”

“I could try and point the finger
But the glass points in my direction
Sure you've got your sharp edges
But my wounds are for my own reflection
You've got nothing I could ever hold against you
I've got fatal flaws to call my own
Please don't go
Please don't leave me alone
A mirror is so much harder to hold”

or listen to the song here:

(Thanks so much to Amy and Joy for helping me figure out how to embed videos.)

Re-Entry. . .

2011-08-14T21:30:00.000-07:00

People have told me I need to take time to journal about China. No problem. I like journaling. But people never tell me what exactly I’m supposed to journal about China. I am searching for some prompts or helpful psychoanalytical questions to get me started. For example, “If you could describe your time in China as a color, what color would it be and why?” and so on. But there are no prompts, and I don’t have the super important books I’m supposed to read about re-entry. So, I just flounder around in my thoughts a lot and sometimes write them down on paper or sometimes let them spill over while talking with my “foreign” friend who is further along than me in the adjustment period.

At this point in the process, mostly I feel a huge relief that I don’t have to get on a plane after merely five weeks of being home with family to head back to China. I feel thankful that I haven’t had to stock up on a years’ supply of things I might possibly need: hand-sanitizer, deodorant, hair gel, band-aids, shavers, shaving cream, and so on. Not to mention all the baking goods that seemed so important to me my first year in China. I feel thankful I don’t have to go buy appropriate teaching shoes or blouses that actually fit. I feel happy that I don’t have to buy local snacks such as beef jerky, Chico-sticks, and licorice to stuff into my suitcase. Happy that I haven’t looked at my passport for 5 weeks. Happy that I don’t have to say good-bye to family with such permanence as I cry through most of the domestic flights and layovers on the return journey to China. For these things, I feel relieved and contented. It feels amazing to relax through an entire August without dramatic farewells.

But sometimes when I am shopping at the super market, I think I hear a few Chinese words coming from Caucasian looking kids, and then I realize that I’m just hearing things. I have dreams about my friends in China. In the dream, we are talking, and my friend usually has some big problem she is dealing with. I can’t help her, and usually end up scolding her in the end, telling her she should be more polite. I wake up feeling sad and homesick. I look for these same Chinese friends online. I talk with them late into the night. I have a new hunger to watch all Chinese movies that have ever made it to the States. I am finally ready, yet again, to read books about China after having no desire to do so for the past 4 years. I can’t get enough of Chinesepod. I miss fried noodles. I miss using chopsticks. I say weird things about “harmony” and “convenience.” I watch movies set in China and cry even during the happy parts. My new favorite color is China red. And it has only been 6 weeks since I have been back in the States.

And my thoughts have no resolve about “what’s next?” And in fact when people ask me what I’m going to do next year, I feel kind of angry, and then I feel sad and depressed because this is the culture I have come back to. . . where you need a 5 year plan. But in China, you don’t even really need a 5 hour plan. But I guess, there is some beautiful balance to be struck between both cultures, some way to hold on to the good points of both without allowing the bad points to be more annoying than they should. And until I figure out how to do that, I guess I'm here with my jumbled thoughts asking myself "What's next?" and kind of scared what the answer might be.

Interviews make me sweat!

2011-08-12T07:04:00.000-07:00

I have had two very different interviews in the past 2 weeks.
In the first interview, I felt very inept and slightly as though I had a learning disability at the end of it. They threw a bunch of education buzz words at me. . . curriculum mapping, universal education, 21st century education, PLC conferences, and so on. That's all I remember. It was a blur of clammy hands, awkward pauses, and sweaty armpits. I felt like defending myself with a "Well, since I have only been teaching in a classroom that had chalkboard and chalk the past 4 years, I have obviously been missing out on the sophisticated development of the education system in the US." But I said nothing. I didn't really feel like it would have mattered. Talk the talk or accept the rejection letter. And so I did. And did so with a bit of relief.

The second interview, felt a bit more like a date. I liked it. I think I might also like dates. "If you were an animal, what would you be and why?" or "If you were a coffee drink, what would you be and why?" These are my types of questions, and this is an environment where I could see myself thriving. Are you curious how I answered these two questions? How would you have answered?

I will keep you updated on the result of the second interview...unless the results are negative. In which case, I will not mention it again and ice over it with some self-deprecating humor. Stay tuned!

Orphans

2011-08-10T07:30:00.000-07:00

Here's a video from the orphanage and non-profit group that we volunteered with in Hengyang.

Karen, I miss you. Hope you're surviving the Summer HY heat.

Playing House

2011-08-09T13:59:00.000-07:00

Recently, I have been playing house. Since moving to the Twin Cities, I have been living with my friends’ family. They are so generous and kind. I am learning the gift of generosity by receiving theirs. This past week, they have been traveling around Asia. That leaves just me, . . . oh yeah, and another college student whom they are also extending the gift of hospitality to. Together, we are playing house. It’s quite surreal. I do house like things. Each day, there is some new task: I get the mail, do some laundry, start the dish-washer, water the plants, and so on. Sometimes, I also dabble in the cleaning. I scrub a toilet or get out the Hoover machine thing and sweep the kitchen floor. Just dabbling, really.

We have each also done a bit of cooking. I made pizza last night; it was pepperoni and cheesy and delicious. And unlike many pizzas in China, this one had sauce on it. Lots of it. And on Sunday, the room-mate made a pot-roast and vegetable dish in the crock pot. Between the two of us, we have plenty of left-overs. They are neatly stacked in Tupperware in the fridge or neatly tucked into plastic bags. I feel happy to open the fridge and look at the neat little stacks and marvel at how fun it is to play house. And while it feels very new and temporary to play house in America, I am just trying to enjoy the moments because they really are the things of life.