The Times of my Life

I've been on many adventures in my lifetime. Considering my sheltered upbringing, I'm quite amazed and extremely blessed when I think of all I've had the opportunity to see and experience. I've visited San Francisco, San Diego, Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Lake Tahoe, Reno, Baltimore, Washington D.C., Virginia, Newark, Albany, the five Burroughs of NY, Atlanta, Savannah, New Orleans, Dallas, Houston, San Antonio, El Paso, Juarez Mexico, Baltimore, Orlando, Jacksonville, Miami, Fort Lauderdale, Key West, Denver, Colorado Springs, Vancouver (Washington), Seattle, Portland, Vancouver British Columbia and the country of Ecuador. I've lived in Seattle, Fort Lauderdale, and of course, Phoenix.

While in my early years of college, I climbed (okay, was driven) up to the top of Pikes Peak mountain located west of Colorado Springs, at which time I practically had to get on oxygen due to the elevation of over 14,000 feet. Then a tour of the Cave of the Winds followed by a tram ride over the Royal Gorge. I've taken a ferry ride in northern Washington to Orcas Island for the opportunity to ride a moped around the island and take in Orca whales jumping in and out of the water. And I've visited Vancouver, B.C. a couple of times. Many adventures.

Then there was a Smithsonian Institute visit while in our country's capital of Washington, D.C. And a stop at Arlington Cemetery and a walking tour of Georgetown. Of course, I'll never forget my first visit to New York City at which time my friend and tour guide dragged me (at times, literally) to take in the Empire State Building, two Broadway shows, the Guggenheim museum, the Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art (MOMA), and finally, a trip up to the observation deck of the one of tallest buildings in our country at the time (with pictures to prove it), the World Trade Center, the year before the towers fell. I've also been to the southern most point of our country found in Key West, Florida for some shallow water snorkeling. Many adventures.

I have camped at the base of Mount Rainier, near Seattle, and gotten stuck in a dry water flume that I had to climb my way out of with the hilarious, non-stop laughter of my camping buddies cheering me on. I've kayaked on Lake Union in Seattle and taken a helicopter ride over Mt. Saint Helen's (post volcanic explosion). I've walked portions of Central Park during each different seasons on different visits and saw Iron Maiden at Madison Square Garden. I've attempted snow boarding in Lake Tahoe and I've seen the Grand Canyon several times. So many adventures. 

Most recently, I've visited the country of Ecuador to meet family and had the opportunity to stand on the equator, zero longitude and latitude. Many, many adventures. 

Yet, none of them equate to the adventure I've been experiencing for the past seven months. The fun part is beginning during this final trimester of my pregnancy and, in a few weeks, the birth of my son. This is the time of my life, as I bring a new life into this crazy, adventurous world. I'm beyond grateful and blessed. So many adventures. 

Standardized Testing breeds unethical, pathetic teachers...

Although I'm not a proponent or fan of standardized testing (I hate them, actually), I do find it appalling that teachers, who are entrusted with the education of our children, choose to try and cheat the system by changing test scores themselves (see article by clicking on link below). This unethical behavior contributes to the breeding of a society below the standards expected (based off of tampered, unreliable test scores which make us look smarter than we are) and is done for purely selfish reasons. Increasing a paycheck, in this instance, does nothing for our children who eventually become adults. Adults who have been cheated out of a thorough and well-balanced education and who quite possibly end up in the lower-socioeconomic brackets of our society and end up living off of government assistance. Teachers who lie and cheat with regards to this not only are an embarrassment to my field, but a detriment to it as well.


The Search for a New Way to Test Schoolkids (USA Today)

Last Year vs. Today

Last year about this time I was...

• Introspectively analyzing my life choices, actions and consequences;
• In the midst of wading through one of the toughest personal challenges of my life;
• Beginning a new aspect of my career in higher ed;
• Unsure of what the future held.

Today I am...

• Continuously analyzing my life choices, actions and consequences;
• Appreciating the strength and support I had to get through one of the toughest personal challenges of my life;
• Celebrating nearly a year of teaching college full-time, a wonderful new aspect of my career in higher ed;
• Excited for the future and the new life I'll be bringing into the world.

It sure has been a while...

...but why? Well, it has been a busy, somewhat complicated, extremely eye-opening, emotionally healing time for me during the latter half of this year. Some personal revelations forced me to take a hard look at my self, my choices and the desires I have for my future.

Blogging, I'm certain, will increase in 2011. At least that's the goal as of right now. But until then...

Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanzaa, Happy Hanukkah, etc. and Happy New Year to all!!!

Patricia

The Hulk

Some days I feel like my life is in a vortex. Other days I feel I'm in a holding pattern. At times, though, life is like a rollercoaster ride. Sort of like the one known as The Hulk which can be found at Islands of Adventure in the Universal Studios Theme Park in Orlando, Florida. I've been on it several times while I visited the park with family and friends while living in South Florida. It has a sharp take-off as it shoots you out like a rocket then continues into the spiral of twists and turns that is a rollercoaster. I usually hate rollercoasters. Most of my life I have. This one I like. I think it's the exciting take-off. Or maybe I'm just weird and have an affinity for rollercoasters in my older years. I wonder.

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The way I see it...

Almost two months have gone by since my last blog post. Life has been busy with a new term at school starting, a trip to Ecuador for a family wedding, and, the daily ups and downs that life brings. I find myself at a crossroads where I must focus on attending to some personal business that seems to cut into my creative outlets. I haven't written much, felted much or cooked as much as I normally do. But on the other hand, I am focusing on taking care of things that needs my attention. I do long for the day when I can feel at peace with myself for some of the decisions I've made and how they have affected me, overall. That is a daily process, however.

I turned on the news yesterday to hear of another tragedy caused by Mother Nature. Poor Mother Nature, she sure is getting blamed on a lot of things these days. Global warming, global swarming!! In all honesty, though, it is sad to hear of people losing their lives through flooding in Pakistan. But, it was nice to read of the many lives that lived after the plane crash in Columbia. Quite a miracle, actually. We're living in a unique time in life where news is at our fingertips, information is abundant, yet, we still seem to focus on things that are most important to us. Such as who is judging on American Idol and what fashion ensemble Lindsay Lohan wore on her surrender to jail. (Yes, there is a hint of sarcasm there).

One of the big stories in the news yesterday had to do with our president supporting the First Amendment and stating that it is the right of any business or organization to set up shop wherever they like as long as they are within their legal rights. Shame on our president for supporting the foundation in which our country was built. Why is it that capitalism goes out the window when people want it to? You can't have it both ways...either you have government involved in making decisions about private business or you don't. Emotions set aside, business is business. And that's the harsh reality of it, at times. I support my president on this one.

And that's just the way I see it today.

Cuban Food

Living in South Florida for the nearly six years that I did introduced me to some of the most fantastic cuisine I have ever tasted...Cuban food. Since moving to Phoenix, we haven't had much Cuban food mostly due to the fact that there are only two Cuban restaurants in the Valley of the Sun. One is an overpriced, cuisine-type restaurant but the other is fantastic. The owners are from Miami and of Cuban descent. We were happy to discover Mimita's Cuban Cafe, however, it's in Chandler which in reality isn't very far away (maybe 25 minutes, without traffic, on the highway), but feels far. And yes, I'm plugging the restaurant and not getting paid for it. It's that good.

Anyhow, last night I suddenly got a craving for the cuisine my hubby grew up on and decided to make the one dish I have mastered, which is Chicken with Mojo marinade and White Rice with Black Beans. I woke up super early, put the chicken, white onion, fresh garlic and Mojo marinade in the crockpot and went back to bed. A few hours later, the smell had permeated throughout the house, so much so that I couldn't stay in bed any longer.

I start to think about making the white rice and black beans when I jump onto Facebook and see a recipe for Congri, which is the same as Moros except with red bean (Moros uses black beans). I'm craving Moros but haven't had the best of luck when attempting to make them on my own. But today, I thought I'd give it another try. And, I'm sure glad I did. My moros came out fantastic and I just finished a nice lunch of Arroz Moros y Pollo en Mojo (hope I didn't butcher that title too much).

Name of the dish aside, the food reminds me of my time in South Florida. Which I miss immensely.

Life, as it is...today.

Lately I haven't blogged much but life is good, overall. I have good health, love and hope. But life is life and it isn't always perfect. I still believe and experience perfect moments and cherish them within, however.

Sometimes it's the little things in life that we must appreciate. Such as, right now, I'm sitting here, listening to Sia's new album delivered to me early by a wonderful friend. So far it's fantastic. I'm also happy that my kitchen is clean. I love a clean kitchen! When you love to cook the way I do, a clean kitchen is important. I continue to felt, my hobby as of late and can't seem to get enough of it. Ah, the little things.

Channeling energy into areas that need my attention is my priority, so right now I'm writing privately, keeping a diary of sorts. And finally, focusing on writing the book I've started over and over. It's time.

First-Friday in downtown Phoenix

On Friday, my sister Petrina and I joined creative forces and set up a table at the local, monthly art and cultural even here in Phoenix known as First-Friday. There were hundreds of people and we had a good amount of people show interest and even purchased our one-of-a-kind, handmade brooches, hair clips and headbands. Our little creative outlet/hobby is putting us in the middle of the art and cultural scene in Phoenix and I love staying connected.

Our plan is to continue this on a monthly basis so it's back to being creative again. Below are a few pictures of our table setup and the crowd that walked past us. It was quite crowded at one point, but so much fun!

A Confession from Keith

I sat in a room with about 10 other people today and heard a man admit to being an alcoholic. He said he wakes up every morning and has to have a drink to get his day going. While he doesn't drink at work, he can't wait to get home to crack open his first beer. Over the course of his admission, he included that he had served time in prison and had previously been addicted to drugs. He stated all this with a matter of fact attitude and when he was done, he had a look of relief on his face as he stated, "wow, it feels good to admit and unload that!"

I looked around the room at the other people sitting there. None of us seemed to be prepared for that admission. It came out of the blue, it seemed. Tears were stinging my eyes and I had to swallow deeply a couple of times to hold them back. Something about the look on his face, the release of admission to something that he maybe had been holding on to for a while. He might have admitted it to himself, at one point, but maybe this was the first time he admitted it to others out loud. He continued sharing that he wanted to stop drinking but didn't know how. Now he realizes he needs to do something. He has three small children, all boys, he wants to be around as they grow up. Tears now flowed slightly from his eyes.

I wanted to reach out to him. Touch his shoulder and let him know that he could do it. Remind him of all he had to live for. Encourage him to get help. Offer prayer, anything to let him know he wasn't alone. Yet, I didn't. Like the others I just sat there and listened. It didn't seem the appropriate time to interrupt him. It didn't even seem the appropriate time for his confession.

The Fishies

Sipping my café con leche this early afternoon, I'm sitting here at home in an old, t-shirt type pajama. It's white and has little colorful fishes all around it. It's at least 10 sizes too big on me, but, it's comfy as ever.

The last time I wore it was probably about eight years ago. My husband saved it and it sat folded in a drawer, then in one box after another. It was recently washed, during the craziness of our last move. It's one of the pieces of clothing that I would wear when I was a much heavier woman, along with the weight of a whole other person. A very thin person, but another person, nonetheless.

The majority of my life, represented in just a few articles of clothing. Surely my life was not just about the size of my clothing or the weight of my body. Nevertheless, the pj otherwise known as 'the fishies' is still here. A reminder of a time past, a different time. Not just physically; mentally and emotionally, as well.

Reflecting on all the many things I can do now that I couldn't do then. A five-mile bike ride that doesn't leave me too winded, an hour and fifteen minute yoga class that allows me to stretch my breathing and body to its limits. Of course, the aesthetics aspect of weight loss has it's benefits, but that's not what is most important. What's important is the fact that I have no major health ailments, I don't take pharmaceutical medication to keep me healthy, and, I'm rarely sick due to low blood sugar or high blood pressure.

'The fishies' is a fond reminder of a time in my past, along with being a reason to appreciate the time of the present and the future. Although it's like a tent on me, I proudly wear it. In my house, anyway.

Phoenix, First-Friday and Dinner

It was quite a lovely day here in Phoenix. I'm finding myself appreciating this city, which I disliked for so long, more and more every day. Even with the impending heat of summer, I still seem to have a cheery disposition about living in the desert. When I reflect on my attitude about this city, I recognize that much of my disdain had to do with where I was in life, maturity, and experience. Which could be the reason I'm actually enjoying life in Phoenix, in a home about four miles from the home where I grew up, about two miles from the high school I attended, and about five miles from the business/educational institution where I started my career and college education. The neighborhood where I grew up was actually gang infested and filled mostly with low-income families. These days, it's a thriving community with a mixture of similar low-income families, artsy-type singles and couples, and alternative-lifestyle families.

Older homes built in the early to mid-1900's have been renovated baring exposed brick, hardwood floors, and beautiful architecture. A cyclical downtown renovation reminiscent of what's occurred in many other large metropolitan cities such as Los Angeles and Seattle. Suddenly it's hip to live in downtown Phoenix. Which makes me even more proud to know that not only did I grow up in this part of the city, but upon my return I haven't gone much further.

Tonight, in downtown was a monthly event known as First-Friday. A cultural art event that brings together artists and vendors allowed to display and sell their creative inventions (whether it's art, handmade jewelry and clothing, or food). This monthly event draws people from all over the Phoenix metropolitan area and beyond. Next month, my good friend and artist, Fernando Moreno, will be showing his work, which consists of some of the most original, oil paintings on canvas. My sister Petrina and I are also hoping to get a booth to display and sell our handmade accessories. You can check out our items online at our Etsy store. Once we secure our booth I'll post additional information.

Dinner was lovely tonight as my hubby and I (well, mostly I) feasted on some of Chef Johnny Chu's fabulous Asian dishes at his restaurant Sens. If you live in Phoenix and haven't been, make it a point at some time to stop by and try some of his dishes. It's a tapas-style restaurant so be prepared to share. I love that we can find such unique restaurants so close to home.

Happy April family and friends! 

On Being a Woman

Give a girl an education and introduce her properly into the world, and ten to one but she has the means of settling well, without further expense to anybody. (Jane Austen)

Jane said it well. Giving a girl an education gives her the means of relying on no one but herself, should that be required. Certainly, many a girls dream is to find her prince charming, settle into the castle and be taken care of emotionally, mentally, physically and financially. Oh, but just a dream that is for most, though. And these days, many don't even dream that. Generation after generation of women have found their reliance on a man only brings them disappointment, sadness, grief, self-doubt, insecurity, mistrust and fear. Mothers have taught their daughters, based on their own personal experiences usually, that relying on a man is not the thing to do these days. If I take this a step further, relying on anyone to help define who you are as a human being, whether a male or female significant other, isn't the smart thing to do.

Various sources indicate that the divorce rate in the United States has reached up to a staggering 50%. While that blows my mind in many ways, it also doesn't surprise me. There are very few people that I know who have stayed married to their first spouse. This isn't stated in a judgmental fashion, it's stated simply as a fact. While it is an unfortunate fact, it is a fact, nonetheless. The psychological aspect of why this is has been analyzed in many ways. That's not the purpose of this post, though. I'll leave that to the sociological and psychological experts.

At one time, marriages were considered business transactions. Although, while I say at one time, I'm sure this is still a fact on many social levels today. If I break it down from a business perspective, which lately includes an accounting refresher, the business of a marriage would include 'debits and credits' and 'assets and liabilities'. Crazy to think about it in those terms but when you turn on the news and hear stories such as this one, there's no denying that accounting terms are taken into consideration in some marriages these days.

Throughout history, men are depicted and have been considered the stronger sex. It's a fact in so many different respects, starting from the physicality aspect of it to the social standing aspect. A quick peruse of the list of CEO's for the top Fortune 500 companies in America is proof that women still have a long way to go if they'll ever reach the same status and/or level as men. If ever.

In my lifetime, I've not lacked the presence of strong women in my life. Starting with my own mother, both of my grandmother's, my step-mom, various aunts, friends, mentors, colleagues...countless women who have shown me the strength that God has given to the 'weaker' of the two sexes. Women who have stood up to men who have wanted to dominate, control, oppress and manipulate. Women who have made it on their own personally, professionally, spiritually, emotionally.

Contrary to what might be assumed, this is not being written in opposition of men. I love men. I'm married to a wonderful man who understands and respects the strength and courage that women have been blessed with. He was raised by four very strong women and always refers to his maternal grandmother as his grandmother and grandfather, whom he never knew. I'm blessed that my father is still alive, as well as my step-father who played a major role in my upbringing. Many men have taught me many things about the roles they accept and play as husbands, fathers, brothers, sons, uncles, friends.

Unfortunately, though, there are many men who abuse the roles given to them. Men who seek to dominate and emotionally control as a way to pad their egos and hide their lack of emotional maturity. I've been exempt by this type of man most of my life, but alas, another lesson in life reared it's head. I've seen hypocrisy, in one form or another, my whole life. I'm sure we all have. Allowing someone into your life who claims to live one way, but turns out to live it another, is always a learning lesson. A wolf in sheep's clothing, so-to-speak. Jane Austen also stated, "Nothing is more deceitful than the appearance of humility. It is often only carelessness of opinion, and sometimes an indirect boast." She was so right! The details aren't important, the learning lesson is, however. And what I learned is that to stay true to who I am as a woman, who I was raised to be - even if I daily seek to change and improve all aspects of my being into a better, more balanced person - is to fall back on all that I've learned. All I've learned from the strong, amazing women in my life, and from the men - most especially my husband.

Every day, every moment, life is my teacher.

This Moment

All days aren't like this...it was a very good day. Dare I say a perfect day? As perfect as perfect can get. I was taught growing up, that no one is perfect. I don't disagree with that. I was also taught that life isn't perfect. I don't disagree with that either. But no one ever said that a moment or moments in life couldn't be perfect. In reflection, I would have to say that while it was never specifically stated, it sure was implied. The word 'perfect' seemed to be set aside for only one.

It wasn't until recently that I became open to the thought that perfection is possible. Possible in the sense of what we each, individually, define as perfection. Perfection, may have been the moment you realized you loved the man you were dating and decided you could spend the rest of your life with him. Or, perfection may have been the moment you saw your first child emerge from the womb of your wife. A moment of perfection is a moment when you can do nothing else but smile the whole time or cry tears of joy. It may be but for a moment, but it is perfection.

In coming to this point, I've enjoyed more moments for what they are; perfect for that moment in life. This moment in life. A moment of meditation to give thanks for the breath I'm breathing, the clock I hear ticking, the doggies that surround me as I sit here and type this, my husband who sits across from me on the next sofa; a perfect moment to end a perfect day. A day that included physical, spiritual and emotional balance. A day that was not without pain. A day that was not without frustrations. Life wouldn't be life if it wasn't frustrating at times. A day that included meeting new people and trying new things. A day that included a warm soul waking up next to me in the morning and soon going to sleep next to me tonight. Perfect for this moment in life.

Always Learning

"Life always gives us exactly the teacher we need at every moment. This includes every mosquito, every misfortune, every red light, every traffic jam, every obnoxious supervisor (or employee), every illness, every loss, every moment of joy or depression, every addiction, every piece of garbage, every breath."

Charlotte Joko Beck

Mrs. Saafir was Muslim and wore a traditional Muslim turban every day. She was intimidating and had a strong personality. She was my sixth-grade teacher. There have been many influential teachers in my life. I've learned from extremely knowledgeable and intelligent professors, teachers and leaders. But Mrs. Saafir stands out in my memory more the most. I was a young, impressionable child and she scared me like no other. But she also challenged me and, in some odd way, knew I needed that. She shared, without hesitation, of her religion without pushing it on any of us. She knew that educating her students on the differences in life was what education was about.

Many, many years ago, while still quite a young woman and just a year or so into my college years, I stood in the front yard of my church youth leaders. They wanted to talk to me about something they were gravely concerned about. It seems that I hadn't been spending enough time with God. The time I had been spending in my classes at Phoenix College, after long days at work in my first full-time, post-high school position, was simply too much time because it took my focus away from God. Their limited knowledge of education was apparent. They lived in a tiny, two-bedroom home with their three children. They were nice enough, but even in my young adult mind, I knew they wouldn't understand the importance of education, let alone higher education, even if I took the time to explain and break it down to them. While I don't blame them for their opinion and ignorance, I do regard them as the leaders who encouraged me to push forward with my education, which I know was not their intention at the time.

Some might think I use my college education as a platform in which to stand and proclaim I am better than those without. A perception that is far from the truth. Others might think that I use it to forget where I come from. Again, far from the truth. I do not think college is for everyone, nor do I think a person is better with a college education than those without. What I do think, believe and know from personal experience, is that education, whether formal or informal, is the key to freedom. Freedom from a sheltered life. Freedom from ignorance to the ways of the world and the people who dictate around us. Freedom from the constraints put upon us by dogmatic religion, politics or persons.

I make no apologies for where I stand in my views of politics, religion and life in general. I may not shout my beliefs from the rooftops, but if you ask, I will share. I have been and will continue to be a lifelong learner. Sometimes my education comes in the form of structured learning in a classroom environment. Other times, my learning comes from one-on-one teachings from friends, family, colleagues, teachers or leaders. Wherever my learning comes from, I'm open to it because I have a passion for learning and intellectual, emotional and spiritual freedom.

Mrs. Saafir may not ever know the impression she left on a chubby, Hispanic, sixth-grader with an inquisitive nature way back in 1983, but she definitely left a mark. She encouraged me to question everything, try to understand things and always be open to differences in people and life in general. She was the right teacher for me, at that time in my life. 

All The Remaining Years

Week nine of a twelve week quarter has come very quickly. The new college where I am a teaching in my first role as a full-time faculty member has been rewarding thus far. I'm finding that I've learned a lot about many things through this experience and my hopes, of course, is that my students have learned as well.

This is only the third time in my teaching career that I've worked for a college with younger students. Having begun my role as an educator in 2001, I found myself younger than at least one-third to half of the students in the groups I taught. This was a position I was used to - being younger than most I associated with on a professional level. In this new role, however, I feel more adult than I ever have before. With less than two years before I hit the big four-o (gulp), I'm finally beginning to feel like an adult.

While I realize that might sound like a crazy statement, considering we are generally adults by the age of eighteen, I must say it's honest. When I walk the halls of the college, I'll guess that I'm older than the majority of students who attend. I get called Mrs. and Ma'am more often than not and Ms. Guillen, rather than Tricia or Patricia. My guess is that my younger students think it's best to call their elders by their last name. I know that's what I did when I was their age. 

Age is definitely creeping up on me faster than I realize and I'm actually okay with this. I'm not freaking out about getting old. Nor am I dreading the big four-o. What I'm finding is that feeling like an adult is a pretty good feeling. While I hope to never loose the desire to learn, change and grow, and act like a kid, at times, I do feel I'm wholeheartedly working towards a healthy work/life balance. Which feels like an adult thing to do. Something that isn't an easy task for most of us. It's much easier, than not, to get caught up in the minutia of life and the drama that comes with it; most of which we cause ourselves.

Something that my dad usually says whenever I ask him how he's doing is something along the lines of "I'm still breathing, living life, and enjoying another day"...And I think he's got it right. We're given only one life and it only makes sense to focus on everything within it. Life as it is, good or bad. Focusing on the moment, the here and now, is the only way to appreciate and live life fully. That is the goal these days and hopefully for all the remaining years of my life.

Determination Shining Through

The look in her eyes said it all...the eyes red, slightly puffy. Glossy irises, dilated pupils, wet-rimmed eyelids; upper and lower. My heart immediately panged. I've felt that pain before. The kind that makes an otherwise strong-willed, determined woman, cower to the pull of emotions.

This young woman in her early 20's made an impression from the moment I met her. She has an air of confidence that doesn't seem so much ego-driven, as it seems a thirst for knowledge that she believes will guarantee her a better future. In the short time we've known each other, I've learned that she is a young mother. She's not a native to this city and she lives here without any family. Reference has been made to a past relationship.

Every week she's late at least 30 minutes. She always texts to let me know. Certainly I can't let that go without some sort of repercussion; however, I can't help but accept that this is her pattern. This is her life. An air of determination looms around her as her inquisitive nature asks question, interjects comments and thoughts, provides rationale for her initial thoughts or lack of knowledge. Not afraid to admit she doesn't know or she might be wrong. Happy when she is right.

I inquired of her well-being when she first arrived. She admitted she was having a tough morning but not to worry, she was here to learn and complete her midterm. I respected her wishes and didn't push further. I could relate in some odd way. Three hours later, she had completed her midterm. A successful presentation of research conducted on a successful business leader. She dove into the assignment, complete with it a week earlier than it was due. Determination shining through. Learning clearly evident.

Wide-eyed and proud, the tears no longer evident. The redness gone. A smile on her face. The look in her eyes said it all.

Paradise Cafe, Borders and my bed...what do they have in common?

On a Friday afternoon when most people are leaving their office for the lunch break, I sit in Paradise Cafe with my hubby, my MacBook and my iPhone, of course. These days my mind races a thousand miles a minute and as much as I want to slow down it feels impossible. It seems lately I have a never-ending pile of papers to grade (suddenly, teaching has become my full-time job again), two articles that I've started in hopes to get published, a survey that I've put together and need to get out to peers, oh yea,...and a dissertation to get started on. So much to do, so little time.

I don't know about most people but I self-analyze quite a bit and find that as much as I try to understand myself, it's through knowing and understanding others that I understand myself. The good, bad and ugly. For example, just a while ago I walked over to Borders to buy a new notebook for my daily 'to do' list. First, the whole point of getting a new one is that the current one I have is filled mostly with work from my last job. The last page, a list of things that were unfinished. Written down thinking I could follow-up and proceed to do my job and when that job was pulled out from under me, the list just sat there. Not looked at again until weeks later. What is funny is that the responsible employee in me made me automatically, mentally transform into the Director of Faculty Services again, and suddenly I was concerned that I had not gotten back to the Dean of the College of Liberal Arts. I kicked myself momentarily because I really like that Dean (actually, I liked all the Deans...they were great to work with) and I tried my best never to drop the ball on something that I said I would do or research. Then it hit me...there's not need to follow-up, that's not your job anymore. I'm not actually sad that it isn't my job any longer, I'm just sad that I didn't follow-up on what I said I would. The one thing that I've learned over the years is that I'm not defined by the job I have, the money I make or the things I have...which is why I'm still content with life regardless of where I'm at.

Anyway, while in Borders paying for my notebook, there was a young man behind the counter ringing me up being very nice to me. He made small talk with me as we waited for the computer to process my purchase. He asked me if I worked around the area, I told him no and that I was working in the cafe next door grading papers for my online groups. He then asked if I was a teacher, I said yes. He then proceeded to say that he wishes he had gone to college. And like a script in a good movie, that was my cue...

Of course, the educator in me jumped out and suddenly I was sharing with him that most of my students are adults and that it was never too late to go to college. I was ready to call one of my enrollment counselor friends at the variety of colleges and universities I am affiliated with and get him talking to someone. But I was stopped in my tracks as he shrugged and said, "Life is too hard at times. I wish I had done something sooner, now, I can't even see the light at the end of the tunnel." I wasn't sure where to go from there but of course, I did. I went back to talking about how it's never to late to go to school and how the tunnel can be deceiving to us at times. I could have gone on and on....but he was done ringing me up and the next person in line was waiting. Sigh. I just hope what I said will stick with him. This experience made me grateful for the path I've gone down. Whether chosen myself, or for me, there always seems to be a light at the end of the tunnel. Or maybe I've just been blessed with the opportunity to see the light and seek it out. Either way, I have rarely ever thought things to be hopeless.

This morning I woke up with my hubby laying next to me and our four little dogs snuggled around me in their respective places. There are rules, you know, in the animal kingdom. Our pack leader, Mamita, is a loner and hates for anyone to be touching her while she's sleeping, except for me. Of course, that doesn't stop her from snapping at my toes whenever I shift around and she gets startled. Widdle is happy curled up in a ball sleeping on my left next to Piggy, who sleeps in the same area. They seem to migrate towards each other a lot...it's rather cute. Lumpy, on the other hand is our goofball dog. He refuses to sleep next to anyone but me. He moves from sleeping between my calves or up on my pillow above my head. He seems to make this decision based on how I've moved in my sleep and whether or not my move has put him in the position of being touched by one of the other dogs. Sleeping with us is a luxury these days, as we've trained them to sleep on their own beds, and this last night was one of those luxury days. So anyway, my original point was that upon waking up this morning one of the first things out of my hubby's mouth was "I love you with all my heart and I know no one will love you the way I do". I looked at him and with my messy hair, naked face and morning breath, all I could do was tear up in gratitude to God for all I've been blessed with. Especially love. 

Finally, you may be wondering what the three things listed in the title of this post have in common. And to answer that...nothing. They all just happened to be a part of my day. :)

Racking the brain, trying not to cause a concusion.

I have a lot to say. A lot. Why? Because my mind rarely seems to take a break. I’m sure many of you can relate. This morning and for the past couple of days I’ve been racking my brain on what the topic of my next blog will be. I’ve even started a couple of posts on two different topics and basically walked away from completing them. The topics just didn’t seem right. I think what I’ve determined is that, to my own surprise, I worry about what people will think about me and my writing. And this needs to change.

The funny thing about this is that insecurity is only in specific areas of my life. In some areas of my life I don’t really acknowledge what people think about me. Example...my schooling. I know many people are truly happy that I’ve been able to make it as far as I have in my educational goals. But I also know that others either envy it or resent that I’ve made it this far. I am always grateful for any positive reinforcement or encouragement, but for negative talk...I just don’t let it impact me. I made a decision long ago that my education was a priority in my life. I’m doing it for me. For my own knowledge and personal goals. Why should I let others opinions impact me about it? Right?

Yet, for some reason, exposing myself for who I really am for anyone to read about....well, that is nerve-wrecking! This is something I need to get over because if I don’t, I’ll never reach my ultimate goal, which is to write a book. For years I’ve talked about doing this but I haven’t. For many reasons, I suppose, but mostly because I can’t seem to find that spark, that push, that inspiration that I need to reach this goal. I feel like I’ve got a ‘lack-of-confidence-writing disorder'. Let’s ponder that.

I’ll compare it to someone who has an eating disorder* (Disclaimer: I am not mocking, pointing out anyone, or belittling this disease - just using it metaphorically).

Similar to someone who looks in the mirror and sees someone who is fatter than they really are, I look at my writing and wish I could do better. I see the errors and flaws. I worry about the grammar. I’m grateful for spell-checker. Also similar is when people compliment and tell them they look great and don’t need to lose anymore weight – I get many compliments on my writing and yet, it’s hard to believe it truly in my heart. Or maybe it’s not that I don’t believe it, but rather, I have this fear of acknowledging that maybe, just maybe I am a good writer. Why fear acknowledging it? I’m not quite sure but I will ponder that further.

So I’ve decided that from now on I am going to just write my thoughts out. Maybe some people will get it; some won’t. Either way, I’m writing. 

Random thoughts of the day:

What is wrong with the family unit? What is wrong with people? Every week, if not a couple times a week, we see on the news that someone knocked off their family. Their whole family. A couple of weeks ago it was eight family members killed in their home...the one charged? A troubled son. Today, a man killed his family – wife and six children in Naples, Florida then flees to Haiti via the Miami International Airport. Nationally we see people dying at the hands of supposed loved ones. Even locally, there are stories of family members killing other family members. It’s out of hand!

Now, maybe it’s because I’m not in their position (and hope never to be) but the thought of laying a hand on someone I love and taking their life...well, I can’t even fathom it. Respect of life seems to be at an all time low and it truly is scary. Who can you trust if you can’t trust the people around you, people you call family, friends. Scary thought, right? The stories are all different. They come from all levels of socio-economical and socio-demographics. They are of every nationality and of both sexes. They are the least suspected. They are normal looking.

There are so many external and internal factors that contribute to the mental and emotional ‘snap’ that a killer goes through. I won’t sit here and pretend to be a psychological expert in any way, but I imagine that most of what goes on in the mind of a killer are rarely vocalized or shared with others. It’s all in their head. The voices, some say, arguing within on what is right or wrong. Justifying their actions. This is the extent of what I can imagine. Going any further, even in thought, makes my stomach uneasy.

What’s wrong with the family unit? What’s wrong with people?