Okay, I'm getting scared

Canadian Arctic sheds Ice Chunk

 Sometimes it is really difficult not to lose it when I read articles like this, from BBC news. Anymore, I am becoming so concerned with the state of our environment and the overall lack of responsibility on the part of the American government and people (I include myself here), that it makes me doubt my future. Our planet is in such a precarious situation and I wonder why I am not doing more. 

 On most days, I am content with the efforts I make: I encourage my kids (see previous post) to put trash in the dumpster rather than in the yard, I recycle almost obsessively both at home and at work, I don't eat meat, take my own bags to the store,  I have yet to use air conditioning this summer, I walk or bike to work more than half of the year. I try to educate both myself and others. I also try to be conscious of how the goods I buy are produced and seldom buy needlessly. These are the things I often pride myself on doing "right." 

 But I also travel, by air, both domestically and internationally, which uses boatloads of fuel. I want to eat salads in winter and green pepper all year. This accounts for habitat destruction in South America. I sleep with a fan on...every night (fuel). And despite my best efforts, I still succumb to Affluenza on a regular basis, owning WAY more than I could possibly ever need. 

 So, what's to be done? The internal struggle between doing more and the temptation to do less wages in my mind every single day. I can be so lazy while I stand on my soapbox of environmentalism. The best statement for making a positive change is coming up in November. Our new president, whomever he may be, will be taking over at the height of our planet's tipping point and it is critical that we vote in an advocate for it's protection. I'm sure you can guess who my vote will go to but in the interest of not morphing into a political blog, I will abstain from naming him. Instead, I'd love it if every person made voting for our planet a priority. You can check politician's records on your own at On The Issues or through the League of Conservation Voters. 

 Taking care of the Earth is an issue that effects all other issues. Poverty-stricken areas are hardest hit by pollution and weather. Rising temperatures and drought will negate aid relief in Africa. Food and water shortages will continue. Health Care. Disease. Unemployment. Foreign Policy. Economy. All of these are reliant upon solving the greatest threat of my generation. Selfishly, I'd like to have glaciers on those mountains I climb.

The Little People

When I moved into my apartment, in north Omaha, it was mostly for financial reasons. My roommate had a connection to a girl who lived in an adjacent apartment and when she told us our 2 bedroom was available for $450 a month, we snapped it up without much thought. For those of you who've lived in a big city, you'll understand just what a sweet deal this is. 

 I'm not going to pretend I live in a palace. We have a spacious 2br/1bath apartment with a kitchen big enough to fit a table and a living room that we've managed to fit three couches and then some in. We see roaches every once in a while. Some of our windows don't open. Recently, our bathroom sink has become inexplicably clogged. Overall though, these are minor concessions for inexpensive living. 

 The management company we rent from is now the only group in Omaha that will rent to refugees and immigrants. Our complex is like the United Nations. It didn't take long for me to become increasingly convicted in this. From the day we moved in, I felt compelled to make a contribution to my neighborhood. To not just be the white girl who lives here but to be a neighbor and friend to those around me, namely the kids.

Anyone who knows me, knows I have a tremendous passion for working with children. In fact, my current job is the only one I've ever had that doesn't put me into contact with kids every day. Once I opened my eyes to the ones who live around me, I understood why. They are who I am supposed to be investing in. 

Bill Cosby would have a field day with the things these kids say. Once, when telling Fatima (age 6) that I went to Africa, she immediately responded with, "was you still white?" Latrell (8) asked where I was after being gone for 10 days. When I told him Ecuador, he asked,"What street's that on?" They love to ask me why I'm not married at least once a day. The next questions is then, "why don't you have any kids?" They are black, white, Mexican, Sudanese and Somali and they make me think. They are aged 3 to 11 mostly and they cuss, talk about sex,have parents in prison,  know who in the building abuses their pets, gets drunk, takes drugs and is mean to their family. Once they even told me about a man who overdosed and died in his apartment. They know too much for their ages. Although they are just children, this is their reality. It is an amazing opportunity that I have been given to have them in my life. I love to sit outside and color with them or have them help me in my little makeshift community garden. 

It is not uncommon to come home to them jumping on old mattresses in the front yard or playing house with old trash in what was once a playground. Once, my roommate came home to find them spraying refrigerant in each other's eyes. They beat each other up and call each other names. It's all they know to do. I hope that I am able to offer even a meager amount of love and encouragement to them when we spend time together. Each of them is a blessing. So, without further adieu, I present "my kids": Fatima, Fadila, Nabila, Latrell, Gisselle, Junior and Logan. You will hear much more about them down the road.

My Project This Week

Work has been insane the last few weeks. Short-staffed, long hours, more long hours, you get the picture. While I made peace with this as my way of life for the time being, it does have side-effects that I am less than crazy about. 

When I was in Ecuador, climbing high, eating well and spending time doing what I love, I felt like a million bucks. I came home feeling strong, healthy and ready to take on the world. Then, work got crazy and I got lazy. I stopped going to the gym and started finding reasons to grab a bite to eat while out and about rather than packing a sensible lunch. I hate when this happens. For as strong as I felt just a few short weeks ago, I can now almost hear muscle melting into the couch each time I sit down. So, I decided to make a change.

While training for my mountaineering trip, I often walked the 3.1 miles to work with a loaded pack. This, combined with the stair climber (also with a pack) made for an amazing workout. Now, although I've scaled down the load, I've opted to walk to and from work every day this week. Stepping out my door in the morning, almost a full hour before I need to, I am discovering that I do my best thinking while walking. Yesterday, as I walked home in 97 degree temperatures, it occurred to me that I was completely oblivious to the world around me. It was just me, my thoughts and the pavement. 

Of course, in my quest to be more eco-minded each day, this new routine has me feeling better about my negative contributions to the world. And now it has become my project this week to move more miles by foot (walking, running or biking) than I do by car. To my Chicago friends, this is no easy task in the giant sprawling suburb called Omaha. So far, I'm on target, having walked 24 miles and only having driven 20 thus far. 16 of those could have been eliminated if I'd have skipped softball tonight...but we won. Tomorrow is day 5 and I'll keep you posted. 

Live Boldly or How John Mayer Wrote Another Thought-Provoking Song That I'll Attempt to Apply to my Life

I think the title says it all, don't you?

Here's how it goes. John Mayer writes simply-written, albeit somewhat repetitive, songs that somehow manage to describe whatever identity crisis I am currently navigating. I was once Bigger than my Body gave me credit for, and once I overcame trying to fit the world inside a picture frame (3x5), and who didn't want to run through the halls of their high school at a reunion? Currently, I am trying to live boldly through the latest hit single, Say What You Need to Say. It is one of my top three songs to blast in the car right now, never failing to make me do one of those weird car dances. I kid myself into thinking that I have perhaps made someones day a little funnier as they watch my head bop around and my shoulders shake like I'm a fly girl (yeah, you remember). 

What is it about this song that brings this out in me? Well, I didn't realize it until a friend helped to put in in context a few months back. See, I have tried very hard to live my life as openly and honest as possible. When I tried to label it once, all I could come up with was to call it a "cut the shit" mentality. The idea, of course, being that if we were all just a little (lot) more honest with one another, we would stop feeling like the lone freak-show. We are all freak-shows, and we do not have to go through it in isolation. As I lay on a living room floor, loving this song, it occurred to me that it's message was to "cut the shit."

And wouldn't you damn-well know it, now I am conflicted about my own mantra. Should  I really say everything that I feel I need to say? Does this mean not censoring? In the heat of the moment or only after analyzing each situation until my eyes are ready to explode (as I do now)? Mr. Mayer, that know-it-all, tries to claim that even if my hands are shaking and my faith is broken yadda yadda yadda. To me that sounds incredibly romantic. And I'm sure that whatever I would need to say would be so romantic when I immediately vomit afterward. But it is worth it?

And then there's the BIG question. What if the things that you want to say, you also want someone else to bring up? It is rarely thought polite to give unsolicited advice. I would argue that saying everything on your mind, leaves no room for the thoughts and ideas of others. Maybe? Okay...if this seems to be going nowhere, here's why. I'm trying to make an actual into a hypothetical. So, let's say one person has feelings for another. Neither seems to be willing to acknowledge it so things continue endlessly until they don't. Because they've stopped. Because honesty has been stunted and therefore the relationship has stalled.

 Note: This portion is me actually cutting the shit. Be warned.

To whom it may concern: Get off your ass and do something about it! Be bold. No harm will come to you from it, I promise. Risks are there to be taken. Take a risk in trusting me! Make a grand gesture and I will reciprocate. I am getting weary in waiting. And if your hands shake, I will appreciate you more for it. If you're faith is broken, welcome to the club. And at that point, when your eyes are closing, I will close mine too. 

 So, there you go. Evidently, my idea of cutting the shit, is having someone cut it for me. ugh.

Environmental Vegetarianism

 

I have been a vegetarian for the better part of a year now. Inevitably, once someone discovers my eating habit, the question that follows is, "why?" This question is sensible, I guess, as there are many reasons that people choose to abstain from eating meat. I guess it's just a little funny to me though as I am never questioned so thoroughly on beliefs or practices in other areas of my life. Seriously, if as many people asked me why I was a Christian, I'd probably have a much better grip on my faith.

 So as it is a cause near and dear to my heart, I thought I'd write a passage on why I have chosen to cut the demand for meat by one person. It has nothing to do with my health or even really for animal rights (I consider these to be positive bonuses though). I gave up meat because of the environmental impact of industrialized agriculture. I've been into this idea for much longer than a year, but it took me a while to realize that inconvenience is not a reason to overlook something you believe in.

 Let me go into this a little bit deeper. Remember, this is only a blog. I can't write all of the facts and statistics. It would drag out for far too long. And I am most certainly NOT writing this to condemn my carnivorous friends. Many don't know that giving up the business of eating meat is the next best thing you can do for the environment other than not drive a car.

 According to a 2006 United Nations initiative, the livestock industry is one of the largest contributors to environmental degradation worldwide, and modern practices of raising animals for food contributes on a "massive scale" to air and water pollution, land degradation, climate change and loss of biodiversity. The initiative concluded that the livestock sector emerges as one of the top two or three most significant contributors to the most serious environmental problems, at every scale from local to global.

 I am not pretending that there is not an impact created from everything I do in a day. Typing this right now is taking energy and yes, I sleep with a fan on...every night. We all have our part to play in taking care of this place we have the privilege of inhabiting for a few years. One aspect of mine is that I don't eat meat. Another may walk to work or be an ardent recycler. I am not here to judge one way or another, although I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hoping you'd consider the dietary change. Its really not that difficult and yes, the food tastes good.

Here are a few places to look for more information:

Livestock Impacts on the Environment

The Meat of the Matter

Diet, Energy and Global Warming

Organic/Grass-Fed Beef Not the Way Either

Look Ma...A Picture!! The Silhouette of Trees

My first image upload, Ladies and Gentlemen!! 

A lot of people are inspired by nature. Rightfully so. Nature should evoke emotion and provide guidance in the workings of the world. I remember seeing a poster one time that read "All I need to know, I learned from an ant," and gave a detailed listing of all of the things learned from an ant (so, it's wasn't just a clever name). Teamwork, efficiency, ingenuity, conflict resolution etc. can be taught through the observation of natural systems.

I'm not sure if it occurred from so many long drives back and forth across the country or if it has always been there and I only recently discovered it. But I have an extreme fondness for trees. Green trees are beautiful, but my affinity goes beyond that. I particularly love the silhouette of a leafless tree against a darkening sky. Quite specific, eh? 

For me, this image, which I adore so much I painted floor to ceiling on my bedroom wall, holds an incredible amount of symbolism. This tree works quietly through the winter, riding out storm after storm. It is awaiting the arrival of spring so that it can explode in growth and new life. So too, am I. So too, are we all. But while it waits, it continues to provide warmth and safety to those around it. Holds firm through whatever tries to knock it. Has a thick skin yet underneath, vulnerability. All the while it cycles through change after change, and points skyward, taking its direction from a higher power. Working to do its part but ultimately surrendering to the sky. 

Someone out there is probably weirded out by what I've just described. I had an ex-boyfriend tell me it was a morbid symbol to grab hold of. The thing about symbols though, is that it doesn't matter if you understand one another's. They are individual. And where I find beauty in what some might describe as a "dead tree" another might in a ladder or a flower. Whatever it is, it represents a personal connection to something greater than yourself. It may provide you direction in relationship to self, others, the world around and, of course, a higher power. 

Symbols are nothing new, but considering what they mean is often disregarded. A Cross, a Star of David, Yin and Yang, a Compass Rose. Even superheroes are known by their symbols. 

High/Low

I used to play this game at the dinner table called high/low. Rather, I used to pretend that my family sat down at a table together for dinner, instead of foraging for pizza rolls and PBJ. In my dreams we would play high/low and discuss both the high and low point of each person's day.

LOW:

You ever have those days, moments even, when you are made to feel like a complete idiot? Me too. This is one of them. This blog was a great idea until some glitch in the system made it impossible for me to upload images. I am a twenty-something. I grew up in the generation of Oregon Trail in computer class and "You've Got Mail" from a PC at the ripe old age of junior high. I am no whiz kid, but I have a facebook people! I should be able to figure out why I am unable to upload photos. And yet...

This blog will be dead to you in a week's time without visual eye candy. I am working to remedy the situation.

HIGH: The family I babysit for just moved away. In packing, they decided there were certain things not worth the effort. On my last day with them, they asked me to take whatever I wanted from the pantry so as to avoid throwing it away. I made out like a bandit and will not have to shop for weeks. Alongside the pasta sides and pedialyte (actually not sure how that ended up in my bag), I was asked to rescue some alcohol from an untimely demise and also walked away with 1 bottle of rum, 1 bottle of brandy, kahlua, champagne, two bottles of Italian white wine and a four pack of "cooking wine."I have never had this much alcohol in my possession at once. In fact, being cheap, and a lightweight, I can only ever recall buying any kind of hard liquor once. Now, I'm up to my eyeballs. I don't like having this much around. Like double-stuffed oreos, it wreaks havoc on my hard work in training. But tonight, as I become horrible aware of my ineptitude on this machine, I am glad to have a rum and coke available to take the edge off. My Mac is relieved too.

The Sound of Silence

It is late enough that rational people should be fast asleep. Normally, I would include myself in this group. The exception being nights like tonight when, for all intents and purposes, I am in bed, but my mind is busy processing all of the things I would not have considered relevant enough to merit it. 

When I was young and couldn't sleep, my mom would coach me into closing my eyes while repeating the word "relax" silently in sync with my breathing. Although I can't remember it ever working, I still try it to this day. Lately, when I can't sleep, I try to focus on the idea of silence. 

I subscribe to this incredible magazine, Ode. The most recent issue was about silence, only silence. Among many articles describing the culture, spirituality and science of silence was one that has resonated more than the others. 

Imagine a room deep underground. It has one door for entry and exit and in covered entirely in wedges of foam. This is an anechoic chamber and the foam prevents reverberation. These chambers are most commonly used to test microphones and audio equipment. Without the reverberation of sound, they are silent. For as often as I seem to crave silence, I cannot deny that it is uncomfortable. Sitting in a space, completely devoid of sound, could be maddening. Hell, it's hard enough to ride quietly in a car with another person. But in reading the accounts of those who have spent time alone inside an anechoic chamber, I am compelled. 

After a while the brain ramblings stop and there is a pressure that builds in your ears from the lack of noise. This alone makes me disgusted with the audio chaos that I surround myself with daily. If the presence of clank and clamor is so prevalent that my ears could go into full freak out when it's gone, then there is something wrong with the way I live. Here's what I find most fascinating though: when it is that quiet, you begin to hear yourself. When the room, and therefore the brain, is quieted, you can actually hear your body functioning. 

Have you ever lay down and noticed that you can see your heart beating on various points of your body. Perhaps I just have too much time on my hands, but I can see my stomach gently rise and fall with each lub-dub (so named by my former anatomy teacher). Once, while in a meditation class, I swear I had a moment where I felt I could isolate my heartbeat in any part of my body. It was short-lived, but an incredible experience. And there was noise in that room. In an anechoic chamber, you can hear your heartbeat. It is that quiet.

American composer, John Cage, once spent time in such a room and reported hearing only a single high pitch sound and a single low pitch sound. Upon reporting this, he was informed that the high pitched noise was the sound of his nervous system working. The low, was his blood in circulation. This event inspired his composition 4'33", in which the composer sits down at his piano, in front of an audience, with an entire orchestra, and plays nothing. He sits in silence for four minutes and thirty-three seconds, forcing those in attendance to listen to the sounds around them. (The link demonstrates it slightly different than originally intended and note the crowd between the three movements)

So, here I lay, awake, thirty minutes after beginning this post. But even in this discussion of silence, I am calmed. And as I attempt to fall asleep again, I am fascinated with the idea of silence and what more of it could mean for my relationship to others, to the world and to myself. What understanding comes from silence? Would I understand myself better as a created machine? All systems go. Would I be terrified, feeling isolated and disconnected? Can you make a reservation at an anechoic chamber as you would a hotel? I'd love to try it.

This is so Effing Sterotypical

Pretty sure you are practically mandated by law to make your first blog post a disclaimer. Unfortunate souls may happen upon my ramblings, or worse, friends, who I will no doubt tell of its existence, thus subjecting them to more of my blabber then they already have to deal with. But here it is...my blog. I make no promises. To the more conservative crew, I will probably use inappropriate language at least some of the time. I will also "flip-flop" opinions depending on my soap box of the day and make unfair generalizations. I am aware of these things and will not need you to remind me of my inadequacies and deficiencies. I can promise you this: I pride myself on being moderately self-aware, therefore analyzing every one of my damned actions and opinions to death. I am often wrong and I know it. Occasionally, after a drink or two, I become pretty wise. At least that's what I tell myself. So..."where is this going?" you may be asking yourself. Here is your answer:

In October 2006 I took off for a 5 week trip to Tanzania, Africa alone. A single white female with the goal of climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro, despite the absurdity of the idea. The mountain was incredible. I learned so much about myself and my capabilities. I managed to hold my own against my 25(ish) male climbing companions (guides/porters included) and walked away truly convinced that we as people are ACTUALLY capable of achieving whatever we set out to do. Are you puking yet? So, I came home ready to take on the world and quickly realized this:

Mountains and "mountain-top experiences" are entirely selfish. I climbed that mountain because I wanted to and it served no purpose but my own. On a spiritual level, I would argue the same is true. Our spiritual highs are all about the individual. The time we spend in the valleys (a.k.a. real life) is what I like to refer to as the "meat" of life. Those are the times when what we do really counts. The choices we make, the people we interact with, the shit we go through. These are the things that comprise who we are and what are lives add up to in the end. Mountains, few and far between, are the glimpses of greatness that inspire us to keep moving forward. 

There it is. That's what this blog is all about. It's a juxtaposition of spiritual, literal and metaphorical mountains and valleys. Doesn't it just blow your mind?! I climb literal mountains, which I will discuss further when you're not falling asleep, but I'm also disgustingly aware of the symbolism of their meaning in my life. We all have our own mountains to climb. Whatever yours, hopefully you will find something meaningful in reading about mine.