nature's alarm

around 2 in the morning, i awoke to the sound of silence.  no kidding.  the air felt tense, like it was waiting for something, a precedent to something big.  mere seconds later, there was a booming clap of thunder, so intense and uninhibited that it felt like my heart skipped a beat and the house was shaking.  once the roaring stopped, the sky opened up to a flood of rain.

whenever i am in the midst of fear, aside from the sweaty palms, racing pulse, and impulse to curl into the fetal position, there's the impending sense of doom that is somehow more frightening than the fear itself.  it's the isolated anticipation, the not knowing that alarms me.  silence, in a way, can be loud and most disturbing.

culinary escapades

when i was little, you would often find me in the kitchen watching my parents or our nanny prepare our meals.  as soon as my mom trusted me with the stove and oven, i started concocting dishes of my own.  i began with simple fixes, like frying an egg, before moving on to larger entrees like lasagna.  as i explored the world of food, i found myself using my mom's basic recipes and modifying them.  my sisters became my taste testers.  sometimes i would mess up and find a way to salvage the meal while other times i'd have to give up.  either way, it would be an adventure.

these days, i don't have many opportunities to spend a day in the kitchen, but when i do, the hours go by almost unnoticed.  i'll experiment, try out new recipes, and play around with plating.  i'll make brownies or cookies just to smell them baking in the oven.  i'll find different ways to use one ingredient (usually from an overabundance of a vegetable or fruit from the auction).  i'll create things from scratch, like ravioli or meatballs or hummus or guacamole.  i'll use fresh herbs from our garden.

if there's anything to learn from cooking, it's patience.  it's understanding that things don't always turn out right, but sometimes with some added effort, you might stumble upon a changed masterpiece.  it's creating something new every time.  it's magic.

speed

picture this: 
you're driving along a dark, residential highway, minding your own business, when you see 2 cars coming up fast from behind.  the first whizzes by while the other closely follows.  so close in fact, that their brake lights go on and they narrowly miss crashing into each other.  the cars swerve, the first one taking a screeching, sharp turn to the right onto a backroad while the other tries to do the same, but they are going too fast and the turn is so wide they nearly meet up with a pole.

yes, a real life, high-speed car chase.

as much as i enjoy these types of scenes in a movie, there's something about it actually happening in front of your very own eyes that leaves you a bit rattled.

do not attempt at home, kids.

doctor's orders

after a long day or a hard week, i look forward to simple things that lighten the mood: a silly joke courtesy of my husband, a side-splitting radio show broadcast, goofy friends, an impromptu dinner, crazy cats, or a laugh-out-loud movie.

sometimes laughter truly is the best medicine.

mash-up

have you ever unintentionally cut off another car on the road?  and then felt awful about it?

there's always this moment after i've realized my mistake (too late) that sticks in my mind.  it's when i have to let the car pass.  i avoid all eye contact since i'm unsure what the person will do now -- will they give me the finger? the evil eye? a friendly wave? curse? ignore me? and no matter how apologetic i feel or how much i wish i could express it, i can't face them.

it's kind of like when i go through the motions of a humdrum day, convinced i've made good progress, only to remember something had slipped my mind.  and i only have 10 minutes to take care of it.  it's that heart-jolting nervous energy, the butterflies in my stomach.  it's the oh crap.

is there one word that sums up that feeling?  is it anxiety? embarrassment? guilt? remorse? humility?  i think it's all of the above, a hodgepodge of emotion, layered and intertwined, unwelcome but so familiar at the same time.

signs

quote of the day from my favorite church sign: "a trying time is no time to quit trying."

it's amazing how i'm always spoken to when i need it most.. like a true sign from God.

reality check

why do we find ourselves wanting what we can't have?  or more specifically, why do we want what we think we can't have?

case in point: my adventurous kitty from a previous post, who we will call 'B'.  last night as we were getting to sleep, we heard her walking around on our dresser.  the reason we noticed was because of the crinkling of papers underneath her feet.  it sounded like she was trying to get into something, so we called out her name and before we could even flick the light on, there was the loud thump as she jumped down to hide underneath the table.

as soon as the light was on and we repeated her name, she was running out the door and down the stairs.

upon closer inspection, we deduced that she must have been trying to pry her way into the chocolate bars left over from valentine's day.  chocolate, which is known to be very toxic for cats.  that wouldn't have stopped her from ingesting it though.

it may seem like a silly example, but B knows better.  we obviously don't let her have chocolate and she understands that anything atop the dresser is off-limits.  otherwise, she wouldn't have attempted her raid while the lights were on or in plain sight, and she definitely wouldn't have run if she thought she was innocent.

and our B is constantly wanting what she can't have.  we realized early on that if we banned her from an area or food, she would "beg" for it with big eyes or long cries.  i'm able to tell her no, but if i were in her paws, would that stop me?  i doubt it.

i guess desire in a way is complex.  when we're told not to want things, it only makes us more thirsty.  somehow, if we could level that will with our practical, rational world, the yearning for unattainable things would subside.. but that, as B would show you, is not an easy thing to do.

life in season

only 3 days ago, we hit record-high temperatures and it felt like spring.  today when i left work, it was chilly and snowing.

the weather is a constant topic on everyone's lips, especially when we're changing seasons.  the fluctuating is enough to make your head spin.  most of the time, by the dead of winter you will hear people eager for the spring, and in the heat of summer they are wishing for the fall.

would i live anywhere else, though?  probably not.  i like that we can experience all seasons, witness nature and life in hibernation, rebirth, growth, and maturity.. and then watch the cycle repeat itself.  it's nothing short of wondrous.

wish

today i couldn't stop reading a book that brought me to tears by the end.  it was raw and simple and unexpectedly poignant.  it was as if the author had sucked up all the emotions from a period of my life and managed to pour it all out on paper.

i had picked up the book a few months ago at a bargain outlet since the plain, no-nonsense cover had grabbed my attention.  the writer was unknown to me, but after only a glance at the summary on the back, i knew it was a book i would enjoy.  the words had already spoken to me.

it's amazing how connected you can feel with an author, a person who is essentially a stranger but who manages to share something intimate with you through pages and stories conjured up in their minds or pulled from their own lives.  my hope, my wish, my dream, is to be able to attain just that -- to give a little piece of me to anyone willing to receive it.

yin and yang

my mom is all impulse.  whenever an idea pops in her head, she runs with it, usually with alot of excitement and enthusiasm.  once the notion is there and she's fixated on her plan of action, she's already packing or halfway out the door.

though i'm built more like my father -- cautious, low-risk, and usually pretty level-headed -- there are times when i get the itch to do something.  it could be an impromptu trip or a spontaneous outing.. something to satisfy the hunger.  i will feel the craving, close to the surface, just waiting to be fed.

my husband says it's good that i have a bit of both, the compulsive side and the sensible side.  somehow, they balance each other out, like a perpetual see-saw.

cracked

whenever we have sushi for lunch, the group usually opens fortune cookies together at the conclusion of our meal to read our individual messages aloud.  today, my fortune was: "the surest way to have nothing to give, is to give nothing."

i didn't like it.  i thought it sounded cynical.

this started up a discussion about what the saying meant.  one of my coworkers had the same reaction as me, but the other 2 thought that it had to do with being open to giving, that it is more rewarding to give than to receive.  there is no doubt that i agree with that, but my brain was wrapped around the 'give nothing' part of the sentence and its overall literal meaning.  i could not figure out the correlation between the message and their interpretations.

after i got back to my desk, i googled the phrase to see if there were any other thoughts on the subject.  one person explained that people who give nothing will receive nothing in return, so that kindness matters.  when it was clarified that way, something in my brain clicked, like i had found the key to unlock a secret door.  suddenly, i completely understood what my coworkers had been trying to convey to me.

i had been looking at the phrase verbatim and not in the figurative sense.  once my mind could get around the flipside, the implication became clear to me, unraveling like a present.

funny how a fortune cookie could possess such words of wisdom.  i guess you can say we 'cracked' the code.

somewhere out there

remember my insomniac post?  well i hardly sleep a wink when my husband's away on business.  i'll go shopping or run errands after work until my feet start to hurt and my stomach protests in hunger.  it's almost as if i'm subconsciously trying to avoid going home to an empty house.. something about sleeping in a big bed in a dark house just isn't very appealing.

at my parents' 30th anniversary party, something my father expressed to the guests resonated with me.  he thanked my mom for the sacrifices she had made throughout the years, understanding his absences while he traveled for work and when he couldn't be there for her.  it's funny, but until he had stated that outloud, it had never crossed my mind how accepting my mother really was.  since my dad was the breadwinner, the one working long hours and commuting long hours, i assumed that he was giving up more.

awhile later, i asked my mom how she did it, how she was okay with being apart from my dad.  she replied matter-of-factly that it was hard sometimes, but she found ways to occupy her time.  perhaps that's what i'm doing when i'm roaming the mall or taking my time in the store.. filling up my evening, pushing off the inevitable: climbing into our bed alone, keeping to my side, because the other end is reserved for someone miles and states away; and maybe if i'm lucky, my dreams will bring him home.

office space

today i moved into my very first office!  previously i was in what i affectionately coined the "island cube," because it was, essentially, an island.  it is a cube that stands alone in the middle of a hallway in complete isolation.  it even is decorated with plant boxes that sit atop the cube, heightening the feeling of seclusion and sense of detachment.

that is where the island metaphor stops though.  the hallway which the cube divides is in a heavily trafficked area since it is in the middle of everything.  learning to block out my surroundings and finding creative ways to focus has become second nature to me.

so you can tell how excited i was to relocate.  i am so grateful now to have a door and some privacy.  as a girlfriend suggested, time to kick off my shoes!

better together

at work, we've had a series of management training sessions, the last 2 primarily focusing on the DiSC model.  it is a behavioral assessment that is like a shortened version of myers-briggs.

after the first DiSC session, we had "homework" and were asked to bring what we had learned to our teams.  we had our staff complete individual assessments to obtain some insight into their personality profiles.  during our group discussion, we saw that the way each of us fell on the quadrant seemed to make sense for the work we are doing and who we interact with the most.  it was somewhat of a reassurance that we are where we're supposed to be in our roles.

the largest difference in personalities appear to be amongst the 3 of us managers.  it was interesting to see our comparison models and discover new techniques to work together (although it has already been working for almost 3 years now).  it was a chance to voice our tendencies and preferences within our personality types and see each other's points of view.

and though it seems glaringly obvious, this whole exercise reminded me that there is no "right" or "wrong" personality -- just different.  our differences make us who we are and as a result of that, better together in the workplace than we would be on our own.

happy hearts

ah, valentine's day.  what do you make of it?

i didn't use to particularly like valentine's day.  it probably had more to do with the fact that i was usually single, which translated into feeling like i was the only solo person in the world, surrounded by smooching couples or pairs holding hands or dining out or doing pretty much anything together.  as if it wasn't enough to be alone, somehow this day felt lonelier than any other day of the year.

even when i was with someone, i still felt like it was somewhat of a silly day.  why should we focus on one day to declare our love for each other through flowers, chocolate, a nice dinner, or expensive jewelry when we have 365 days in a year and many other ways of showing it?

however, over the years, i started to see it differently.  maybe it's a chance to tell someone you don't see often that you are thinking of them.  or a day to remember all your loved ones that are no longer with you.  or just a day set aside to highlight how much you care for your sweetheart or family or friends, even though they already know it.

so despite what has been said of this day (ahem, fake holiday generated by retail industries to make their dough), i am okay with supporting it.  as one of my friends says, "i love love."  we might as well celebrate by expressing it today.

sweet and simple

tonight during dinner, my husband kept setting down candy sweethearts throughout my meal.  each piece of heart-shaped candy had a message that he had specifically picked before we had left the house to share with me, little by little.

sometimes the most thoughtful gestures come in unexpected, compact packages.. and to me, they are the most endearing.

renaissance woman

today we visited the mercer museum and henry mercer's estate, fonthill, for the first time.  i didn't know anything about henry mercer prior to this day, but his story and legacy is incredibly inspiring.

mercer had a passion for archeology and tile-making.  living in a period of industrialism, he was one of the first to recognize the importance of preserving american artifacts from the pre-industrial era and devoted much of his life searching for and collecting almost 40,000 historical objects related to tools, crafts, and trades that now make up the mercer museum.  walking through each level was like unlocking a vault of hidden treasures, and i couldn't help but think about how ingenious and visionary this man was.

after the museum, we went on to take a tour of his residence, fonthill castle.  it is made up of 44 rooms, 10 bathrooms, 5 bedrooms, 32 staircases, 18 fireplaces, and over 200 windows.  the castle was built entirely out of hand-mixed concrete with gothic vaulted ceilings and an amazing collection of both mercer and foreign tiles.  mercer liked to depict stories through his tiles.  on many tiles throughout the house were the words, "PLVS VLTRA" (plus ultra) in latin, which means "more beyond."  we were told by the tour guide that this was his motto, and i believe it because he was truly a renaissance man with an unquenchable thirst for knowledge.

one person in my life who seems to possess this same insatiable thirst for learning is my own father.  he instilled in us early on (through our education and travels) that the world is an abundant place, ripe for discovery.  as a result, i find myself interested in anything and everything and my list of hobbies go on and on... i have a general appetite for things from the arts to the sciences and am constantly looking for different ways to drink it all in.

plus ultra.  more beyond.  high-five, mercer.

just breathe

earlier this week, i was looking for a glass bowl that i like to bring to work because it's portable and microwavable.  i found it sitting in our large glass measuring cup so went to pick it up.

it was stuck.  very stuck.

i don't know if you've ever seen glass stuck in glass, but it looked as if it had been melded together.  no matter how hard i tugged, neither piece would budge.  frustrated, i protested outloud.

since that obviously didn't work, i decided to try a different technique.  i ran the whole solid piece under some warm water, my hands slipping and sliding against the smooth glass.  then i pulled with all of my might, to no avail.  the mess would not come free.

i sighed and set the glass down, taking a deep breath.  i told myself that i could get mad, yell and scream, but the problem would still be there.  so i thought for a quick second, found the dish detergent, squirted it around the perimeter of the bowl, and then while rinsing it with the warm water, slowly managed to loosen it from the measuring cup.  voila!

maybe when obstacles arise, whether big or small, they seem to take on elements of glass -- unyielding or impenetrable -- until we take a second look, a breath, and realize that with just a couple of steps or a new tactic, we can dilute the issue, or better, solve it.

so what did i find at the bottom of that little glass bowl?  patience.

headbanger

don't let the title of this entry fool you -- i mean it in the most literal sense.

i am somewhat of a klutz if i'm not extra careful.  i burn myself even while wearing oven mitts; i wake up with bruises, unable to determine where they've come from; i have papercuts and scratches just from working in an office.  i have tripped on steps, over curbs, carpets, rugs, plugs, my cats, and sometimes over my own feet.  when i ran track in high school, i sprained my ankle twice in the same spot because i simply lost my footing midstride and landed haphazardly.  once, while maneuvering around some papers and boxes in our junk room, i misstepped and scraped my calf so badly on the edge of a wastebasket (a friggin' wastebasket!) that i still have the scar.

another thing i seem to do all the time is hit my head.  in the mornings while getting ready, we constantly open and close the overhead cabinet in our bathroom.  our trash can sits on the floor beside the commode.  there are times (and i'm ashamed to say how many), that we accidentally leave the vanity door open, i'll bend over to throw something away, and BAM! birds will be chirping around my head.

today i dropped something at work that rolled under my desk.  even though i was overly cautious, i still managed to smash my head directly into the table when i went to retrieve it.  talk about ouch.  geez.

then i thought:  how many bumps does it take to get to the center of my skull?  let's hope i never find out.

catching

while in the office this afternoon, one of our physicians came in seeking me out regarding a request he received in the mail.  i told him that i'd take care of it and that it was no problem.  after he thanked me for making it easy, i smiled and simply said that it was my job, to which he replied that he liked my upbeat attitude toward my work and that it was contagious.  he said that because of this, it made his day.

the funny thing is, him telling me that totally made my day.

if all it takes is a smile to emit some positive energy into the workplace, then i'm happy to do it. 

retrospect

in order to maintain my credential, i regularly take continuing education credits in the city, since the association which offers the courses is based around my university and surrounding sites.  yesterday i attended a class that was hosted by the hospital where i used to intern and later work at in college.

driving past my old apartment and stomping grounds always evokes a plethora of memories -- places i would spend time in, people i was close to who i do not even speak to anymore.  stages of my life are played out in my head and i can almost see myself again, wide-eyed and innocuous, without a clue or a care in the world.  if this girl that i reminisce about stood in front of me today, i would hardly recognize her.

after i parked at the hospital, i took the elevator up to the ground floor and easily followed the walkway into the main building.  i knew the route to the auditorium like the back of my hand, the twists and turns memorized, the same hallways i had roamed years before.  there were obvious additions and subtler changes, different but interchangeable faces.  the overall familiarity was comforting.

there's something to be said about returning to a place you once knew and finding it altered yet still akin to you, like introducing the person you were to the person you've become.

night owl

i am a reluctant insomniac.  at night, i can lie awake for hours, my mind going a mile a minute.  i'll be thinking about things that happened during the day or things i have to do tomorrow; i'll ponder work or personal dilemmas or reevaluate decisions already made.  i can easily dissect one thing into several.  i can find myself envisioning infinite scenarios from a single, fleeting thought.

i'll toss and turn, reposition myself in bed, but the speculation does not go away.  often i will marvel at how much time has passed, the numbers moving forward and pulling away from me as i'm dragged into a neverending circle of contemplation, deliberation, rumination.

it has been like this since i was a kid.  i remember how jealous i would be of my father who would be snoring emphatically mere minutes after his head hit the pillow.  as a teen i had my own phone line, and i'm not sure if this helped or harmed me, because i would often gab throughout the night or sneak into the computer room downstairs to IM with others plagued by sleeplessness.  in fact, i remember joining several "insomniacs anonymous" chat rooms to talk the hours away.

if insomnia is hereditary, i definitely acquired this from my mom.  i'd hear her get up at odd hours of the night, the creak of the stairs under her feet and the tap, tap, tap of her slippers on the floor.  it didn't matter that it was 3 in the morning and she was doing housework.  this was when she was most productive.

some nights i would slink back into bed while other times i'd keep her company, since i was the only other person in the house still not sleeping, and therefore at the mercy of listening to her wrestle with the same problem.

these days, the restlessness happens to me regardless of how tired i am.  i could be exhausted, unable to keep from yawning, my eyes red and watery but still open all the same.  actually, i think it frustrates me more in these instances.  i will be wide awake, surrounded by the sounds of blissful slumber and snooze, 1 human and the other 2 feline, the latter who actually snore.

sometimes i wish there was an "off" switch to my brain, like turning off a light and plummeting into a vast and open darkness, without even a flicker of a thought escaping my mind.

cheerleader

i like to root for the underdog.  whenever there's a big game, you'll find me cheering for the team least expected and more deserving (in my eyes) to win.  and when it's a team that has never won before, i'll usually be on my feet, screaming at the tv.

last night at dinner with friends, we were discussing the super bowl set to be played today.  we all agreed that since the steelers already have 6 super bowl wins under their belt, we'd rather be supporting the packers.  it doesn't matter that the steelers are in the same state we live in or that the packers are technically the favorite.  to me, green bay is the underdog since they have the inferior record.

like one of my favorite classic children's books, the little engine that could, there's something about rooting for a team or group or person when the odds are stacked against them, when the only things to cling to are optimism and hard work, and when that hope and fighting mentality is found within.

after all, when the least likely contender prevails, isn't that the story you'll remember and want to share?

so whether you're starting up a small business, in a local band, going after your american dream.. just give me a call, and i'm in.

elbowroom

i have an issue with people invading my space.  last night at the grocery store, i was waiting for the couple ahead of me to be rung up before placing my items on the conveyer belt.  once there was enough room between us, i moved up maybe 2 steps to start unloading when the eldery gentleman behind me began shoving his stuff on too.  it got to the point where i'd be setting something down and we'd literally knock elbows because he was so close.  i even tried to slide my hand basket underneath the counter but he refused to move, even after i'd said "excuse me" a couple of times (and i'm pretty sure he heard me the second time).

that whole check-out experience left me flustered and wanting to run out of there.  it wasn't so much the rushing (because i can handle that to a point), but the fact that the guy totally stepped into my personal zone without permission.

i'm not really proud of this, though.  the problem extends to me not being able to be touched by strangers.  once, when i had to sit in the middle seat in the last row of a plane (the seats would not go back) between 2 ginormous guys, i spent the entire 2-hour flight with my arms crossed over my chest and my knees locked so we wouldn't brush body parts.

but this also happens with people i know too.  if i'm talking to someone and they take a step too close or lean into my face, i'll instinctively take a step backward or angle myself away.  even when people are offering support with a pat on the shoulder or touch on the hand, i feel awkward and unable to reciprocate in similar situations.

this doesn't mean that i don't appreciate or want to return a kind gesture.  or that i don't like to be hugged or held or touched, for that matter.  it's actually quite the opposite.  i do like affection and can show it to those i'm closest to and care for.

i'm not sure when or how (though i can think of a couple possible reasons that won't be disclosed here) my territorial issues came to be, but i do want people to know that i'm not as reserved as i can appear to be sometimes.  maybe i just need some distance.  and when you get a good hug or squeeze from me, it probably means more than you would have guessed.

just dance

have you ever looked all over for something, only to find it later in the most obvious of places?  why does that happen?!

the other day i was searching for something in our bedroom, scouring our dresser, rummaging through stuff on our end tables, scanning under the bed (where i found one of our cats instead), rifling through laundry, checking behind the computer... over and over and over again... until, finally, my husband grabbed my hands, noted i had my "stressed face" on, and started dancing, looking quite goofy (which turns out, was the point).

what are you doing?  i asked him.

he told me i was too worked up and tense to continue looking and needed to loosen up.  he kept dancing and told me to do the same.  so i joined in, and before long i was giggling, feeling flushed and a bit silly.

not even a minute after that episode, i found what i was looking for.  it was on the dresser, where i'd inspected earlier, more than once!  literally right in front of my face, of course.

i always seem to have blinders on when hyper, frantic mode turns on.  it's as if something in my brain clicks, saying, oh, there she goes again, all in a tizzy, look at her go!

to top it all off, the very next morning, i found something else in my purse that i'd been looking for all week.  never mind that i had searched my purse several times and it hadn't turned up before.

miracle?  nah.  in the words of lady gaga, sometimes you need to "just dance."

lost in translation

today is the first day of chinese new year, the year of the rabbit.  last year at this time i was in taiwan visiting my family there, celebrating the new year with traditional foods and noisy fireworks.

chinese new year to me means family gatherings, wishing each other health and prosperity, the color red, lots of food, and alot of commotion.  sometimes we may have fish, 年糕 (nian gao), sticky, cake-like "pudding," taro or turnip fried cakes, mandarin oranges (2 for good luck), or snack on pumpkin seeds or 肉干 (ròu gān), dried meat that is similar to jerky.  as kids, we were often given 红包 (hóng bāo), red envelopes that were filled with money.  and when i was in chinese school, we would participate in a big new years performance that consisted of several traditional dances, plays, songs, and of course, the lion dance.

these customs were known to me as a child, but not entirely understood.  my parents and family were always really open to sharing these practices with us as we celebrated year after year, yet the reasons behind these rituals were not expressed (or perhaps i wasn't listening hard enough).  as i've grown older, i've picked up a couple things here and there, though i wonder about what i've missed as an ABC (american-born chinese), what my dad used to call me.

for instance, the language itself can not be literally translated.  when i'm trying to explain something to my non-chinese-speaking husband, like a joke my aunt or uncle has told in mandarin, the words come out sounding funny in english as if they are out of order.  example:  if we take the simple greeting of 新年快樂 (xīn nián kuài lè), it means "new year happiness."  word for word, it's not precisely right, but also not entirely wrong either.  just different.

lately i've been keeping a log of the stories and tidbits of information my parents share with us about life in taiwan before immigrating to america.  there is so much there that my sisters and i still don't know.  it seems there is symbolism in everything when it comes to chinese customs, but only recently have i come to grasp some of them.  this scares me alittle bit; i worry about not only my generation, but future generations... how much longer before these cultural traditions are lost?

i guess it is up to us, the ABCs, who are part of both worlds, hybrids in a way, to live it, love it, and share it -- to pass it on, like sacred gifts or shiny red envelopes -- as customs come to be.

faith

last night, i saw a kid in our neighborhood walking home alone, in the snow, after dark.  i almost felt the need to stop and ask if she would be okay, but then thought that she'd probably freak out if an unrecognized car pulled up next to her.

if i had seen the same thing like 10 years ago, i probably would have thought nothing of it.  now i wonder:  is the world becoming less safe or am i becoming more paranoid?  it's probably alittle of both.

when i was in high school and had just moved to a new town, i made several pen pals and friends via the internet.  after some correspondence, i would eventually meet these people, usually without informing my parents, and not in the most public of places.  thinking back, i could have been hurt by these strangers or worse.  but my naiveté and openness made me very trusting and assuming that the world was a guarded, honest place.

my walls didn't come up until college, after i was old enough to perceive the difference between good and not-so-good but still not discerning enough to end up wounded, and pretty badly at that.  by the time i had graduated, i had managed to build up an entire indestructible stone castle around me, with a moat and all.

since then, little by little, my walls began chipping away, and i have one special person to thank for that.  but even so, whenever we decide to bring a child into this world, i am fairly certain that it will not be the same world i once grew up in.  i would like for my someday-child to be unsuspecting and raw but protected all the while.  i guess the only way to do that is to quit worrying so much, and to trust in others and a higher power that everything will turn out alright.

but it's hard though, isn't it?  in this day and age we are bombarded by news of kidnappings, rapes, murders, and horrifying, violent crimes.  our e-mail inboxes are spammed with threats of identify theft, hackers, and already limited privacy rules being violated.  we can hardly make it through a day without hearing something terrible or sad, so i guess it's not that unreasonable to instinctively distrust our fellow men.  i mean, i would like to give people the benefit of the doubt, if it wasn't for that doubt part.

so i suppose trust -- in oneself, each other, the universe -- is a delicate balance to preserve.

maybe finding this balance is what my parents were trying to convey to me.  when i was little they used to say, "trust me," and i would instantly think, HOW?  they would reply, "you just need to," which i've come to believe means, have alittle faith.

bows

not long after we moved to our area, we noticed that 2 white crosses were erected along a patch of interstate not from from our house.  the crosses appear almost bare with simple markings that can not be read from the road.  the only adornment on each is a simple bow, changed once per season or holiday.  the posts sit side by side, in memory of 2 loved ones who were lost, presumably in a vehicle accident in that very spot.

it has been a few years now since the crosses first appeared, but like clockwork, the bows are replaced every few months.  sometimes they are pink and blue, so i assume they represent a man and a woman, or yellow and orange when the leaves start to change.  other times they match, bearing the same velvet crimson and evergreen over the christmas holiday.  no matter what they signify, the intention is clear: someone cares deeply about their departed and has found a way to remember them.

i drive by this display every day on my way to and from work, and it is a constant reminder about how fragile life is.  it could be 'shattered' as easily as the result of a wrong turn, a wrong intention, a wrong diagnosis, a wrong medication, or simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time.  mere seconds could change an outcome, to save or take a life.  we are not invincible or absolute.

i see this in my work as well.  day in and day out we deal with those who are dying, people who are at the end of their lives.  yet in my experience, it is the families who are suffering while patients are at peace.  that is because they are the ones who are coping with the loss.

in a recent weekly message from our CEO, she said that:
"In the world of hospice, one might think that because loss is a normal part of our days that we may become immune to its consequences for others.  This is not the case here..." 

that statement is true for my workplace and equally valid for my life.  it is incredibly important to remember not only those who are lost but those who have lost.  the reason is because loss, in any form, is never easy; grief is immense and seemingly insurmountable, and there are multitudes of ways, unique to each person, to navigate it.  some may be consumed with guilt (as portrayed in the movie 'the machinist') while others may go to combat (like elijah wood's character in 'the war').  on the other hand, some may desire to make the most of the time that's left, seeking life lessons ('tuesdays with morrie') or to reconnect ('the last song'), or even to find a way to honor the deceased (the final scene in 'milk').  whatever the method or process of healing, one thing is certain: life is precious and irreplaceable, and those left behind have only acceptance and remembrance to look forward to.

let us not forget those who have touched our lives and those who will memorialize us even after we are gone, adorning our existence, once bare and unremarkable, with colorful, thoughtful bows, sentiments of love and affection.