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. 

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.

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.

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.

Haiku

Intricate beauty.
The petals of a flower.
Inspire poems.

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.

An Educator

In a few minutes I begin teaching my fourth course of the week. As I've mentioned in a previous post, I'm teaching full-time at a local college and I must admit, I'm loving it. (No, I'm not stealing that tag line from McDonald's...notice I actually spell it out fully?)  =) Anyhow, each one of us is given the opportunity to do things that bring value and meaning to our lives and the lives of others. For some, it is the blessing of being a parent, as they guide their children to live full and productive lives. For others, it is being a mentor or big brother/big sister to younger ones in need of positive guidance. For me, it's the opportunity to stand in front of a group of college students and relay whatever content they're here to learn in a way they will not only grasp it but also be able to use it in their lives on a daily basis. A traditional educator I am not. But an educator, I am.

Everyday

Witty insight or a funny comment. Ticklish licks and kisses from cute doggies. Everyday, moments of laughter.

Reminder of loss or abandonment of a friendship. Words left unspoken. Everyday, moments of pain.

A smile or kindness from a stranger. Witnessing a student connecting with the topic being discussed. Everyday, moments of joy.

Actions that may have hurt the ones loved most. Regret for words that should have remained unspoken. Everyday, moments of remorse.

Ability to experience life with all five senses. Blessed with love and friendship. Everyday, moments of appreciation.

Each cause for those, opportunities for growth; once accepted. Each moment unique; always reflect. Each, a life lesson. Facing truths.

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.

My Father, My Dad

Across the table I see a man. In him I see me. Well, not exactly me. I see where 'me' comes from. Or at least partially comes from. He likes to remind me that he's much older, he would say he's much wiser, and there's no denying we're related. As we eat I stare at him; observe, is a better word. His skin color is a dark brown with reddish undertones. Skin color you might normally see derived from the Indigenous peoples of Mexico. He's an attractive man, in my opinion, with the draw of his personality adding to his physical attributes. He's extremely likable and in the eyes of at least a ten-mile radius of Phoenix natives, he's a local celebrity.

I've always perceived him as laid-back, relaxed and funny as heck! He loves to laugh, as evident by the laugh lines at the edges of his eyes. Some people, these days, go to ridiculous means to cover up those lines. Not this man. I know for a fact that he's proud of every line. Proud of the gray hairs that randomly appear throughout his naturally black locks. A man of few words with the talent and voice of an angel. Okay, maybe not an angel, but the man can sing. He's always told me that he sings from his throat when he should be singing from his gut. Forty or so years of performing is proof that regardless, his voice has done him well. His guitar, a vintage Fender Telecaster, has been with him longer than any significant other. Watching him play that instrument, while singing and pumping up the crowd is quite amazing. What a gift he has. What a gift he shares.

Across the table I see a man. In him I see me. Well, not exactly me. I see where 'me' comes from. Or at least partially comes from. He likes to remind me that he's much older, he would say he's much wiser, and there's no denying he's my father.

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. 

Summer of Discovery

The sky usually cloudy, the wind frigid, the rain misty. A cold never known. Snow capped Mount Rainier, not usually visible unless the sky is clear, which isn't often. A city of refuge, a soul hungry for life, culture, adventure. Summer of discovery.

The streets of Capitol Hill, in the warm, summer season are well-lit by the light of day. Nine in the evening looks like the middle of day. Restaurant windows and doors wide-open, patrons fill the seats on the patio tables and chairs. Friends, acquaintances, family and strangers sharing a picturesque view of life. Bread and wine, being broken.

An artist sits on the sidewalk across the street, paintbrush in hand, his canvas a block of wood. He peers across the street, mentally takes a snapshot of the cafe, translates the picture in his head and his hand interprets with various strokes of color. An eventual permanent imprint of this moment in life.

The sun sets in the west, although it's almost ten p.m. A couple walks by, hand-in-hand, smiling, happy, visibly in love. Their definition of love. A stroll down the street with a steep decline to a coffeeshop. Around many people but alone. Alone but not lonely. Observing, listening, learning. A summer of discovery.

Boats docked, children playing, friends cheering. Homes and apartments on the hills surround the lake with patios filled with talking and laughter. Lake Union aglow with reflections from the fireworks. A patriotic holiday celebrated.

The sky finally black, lit up artificially. On a warm summer night, in the Emerald City. Two friends, far from home, experiencing the moment together. Talking, laughing, crying, growing. What a summer of discovery.

For Magdiel

The Story

sto·ry ¹  (stôr, str)

n. pl. sto·ries

1. An account or recital of an event or a series of events, either true or fictitious, as: 
• An account or report regarding the facts of an event or group of events.
• An anecdote. 
• A lie.

---

We all have stories. Whether they are ones we make up or ones others make up for us. Labels, titles, biased perceptions, opinions. Stories from the past; stories we've made up for the future. Unrealistic stories, tall tales. Truth and lies. Some stories good, some bad.

Living in the past, holding on to pain, frustrations or fears - stories. Living for the future, holding on to the probabilities and possibilities - stories. We are of our past, and if we're lucky, we'll be of our future.

We need to remember that we must be in the now, the present. Not living a story, but living life. The reality of what we've been dealt, good and bad.

One of my favorite musical artists, Brandi Carlile, sings a song aptly named 'The Story'...she has a beautiful take on it. And for that reason I'm sharing it.




Lyrics | The Story lyrics

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.

Continued learning...

The sky was an amazing blue after the sun lowered last night. I stood out on the patio of my sister's home, hugged my husband, and embraced the moment. Having spent the majority of that afternoon on that patio, my sister and I had dyed material and assembled flowers for our project. Finding very interesting color combinations I felt like a kid back in art class as I donned a painter's smock (okay, it was really an apron) and used paint brushes to apply the different colors. It was fun and relaxing, at the same time.

While sitting on the patio at the work table, a make-shift set-up my sister uses as her workstation, I remember thinking how wonderful the temperature was outside. Conducive to our afternoon of creativity. The music played in the background, a varied combination of tunes that came from her iPod. Most songs I knew and could sing along to, some I had heard and knew the tune, others completely new to me. 

Back on the patio, I stood there embraced by my husband, looked into the kitchen from the back window and as my sister sat on the table in her home, I felt the wicked sting of tears approaching. Not having a sad reason to cry, I knew they were happy tears. And happy tears I always welcome. Realizing what was happening my husband asked me what was wrong. After a moment of swallowing the approaching tears to the best of my ability, I finally got the words out to tell him they were happy tears. I looked into the window and told him how much I'm learning from my sister. He smiled, knowing what I was referring to.

As the day turned to evening, we found ourselves working on the dining room table as we each created new items for our shop. At one point, with music playing in the background, she and I both sung different parts of songs as we sewed petals together and beads on the petals. My brother-in-law, as he meandered into the kitchen, made note of the music we were singing along to. Yes, it could have been a Lilith Fair mix, but it wasn't, and he had totally missed our ode to the New Wave movement of the 80's. We continued to sing and hum...a connection we had even as small, young sisters, which obviously remains with us as adults.

Back on the patio, embraced by love in so many different ways, I relished in the moment, appreciated the day and headed back inside to create more. The sky, now a dark blue; the temperature, colder and brisk. Life, a continuous learning lesson.

Education in Cultural Diversity

I've spent the last week teaching classes. My three morning classes have younger college students (some younger in years, some younger in experience), and at night, I have adult college students on two nights of the week. Each group of students are different, diverse. Some eager to learn, others not so much; the majority I can seem to draw in but there are always one or two that are tough. During conversation with one of my groups, the topic of cultural diversity came up and like the good teacher that I am, I pulled from my own life experiences and brought up some experiences traveling and my time in Seattle and South Florida. After five years living in the Sunshine State, I gained the most cultural diversity I've ever experienced in my life. (I just realized that I usually tell people I lived there about seven years...hmmmm, how have I gotten that wrong so many times??...or did it just feel longer than five years and I subconsciously change the number???)


After sharing my experiences with the different cultures, languages, dialects, food, etc. I was taken back to my first day in Fort Lauderdale. Having traveled, by car, for a little over three days with a friend as my moving companion, we had only one overnight stop in Jacksonville, Florida where we stayed with my friend Paula, it was a long drive across I-10 and then down South on I-95. Having lived in Seattle for barely a year, I wasn't thrilled at the thought of leaving the city I had fallen in love with so easily. Somehow I was convinced that the job opportunity was worth the move, worth leaving the Pacific Northwest that had some odd pull and tug at my heart strings. My year in Seattle may have been one of the loneliest, exciting, scary, educational, insightful and rewarding times in my life, but alas, South Florida called my name. We arrived with a car full of clothes, and other odds and ends, to an apartment complex that looked somewhat of a tropical retreat. (Well, at that time, all of South Florida seemed to be a tropical retreat to me).

My friend and I waited for the moving truck to deliver all the furniture and boxes to the apartment. The driver didn't arrive too much later than we had and within hours, all was unloaded into our two-bedroom, second-floor apartment with an entrance on the first floor and an amazing view of the pool in the center of the complex. On a whim, my roomie and I decided to find our way to the beach, because after all, this was the first time either of us had the opportunity to see the ocean on the Atlantic side. While I can't recall whether we went out to have dinner before, I recall us making our way to Fort Lauderdale Beach. It was night out and the moon was bright, the sand was warm between my toes and under my feet, and the water was...well, amazing. It was warm; comfortably warm. I had never been in ocean water that didn't nearly cause frost bite to my toes so this was a new experience. The slight splashing sound against the sandy coast is a sound I will never forget.

The smell of the salt in the air, warm water and feel of the sand under our feet, combined, is most likely what made us do the following...without much discussion, my friend and I decided to strip down to our last layer of clothing and jump in the warm water. I turned my back while my friend stripped down, because we were just friends after all. After he was in the water I did the same and we spent the next half-hour or so enjoying the warm cool wavy waters of Fort Lauderdale Beach. The first night in a city that would change me and my life in many positive ways.

While life can certainly be stressful, I mostly recall good times while living in South Florida. Maybe it's what I chose to do because whether good or bad, I generally try my best to use each experience in life as a learning lesson. That first night on the beach was only one of many, many times I would end up with sand in my car and the smell of salt water on my skin. I would eventually discover a city so beautiful that people will go out of there way to arrange a vacation there. Three counties (Miami-Dade, Broward and Palm Beach) nearly overlapping, amazingly multi-cultural with more languages and dialects spoken than I had ever experienced. I would spend the next five years being exposed to cultures I knew about, and many I didn't, but had never experienced personally. Educational in more ways that my words can describe...which is quite surprising because I can usually find the words for anything.

Reminiscing about my culturally diverse experience in South Florida came to an end when one of my students asked me to share the most important or memorable thing I gained from my time there. I didn't have to ponder long to have an answer because while the ocean is beautiful, the palm trees picturesque (many with coconuts) and the food amazing...I left South Florida with an extremely culturally diverse mix of friends and family. From my Florida employee-turned-friend-turned-surrogate-mom, who is from the Dominican Republic from whom I inherited her family as my own (I'm like a distant cousin to her grown children), to one of my Bahamian employee-turn-friend who introduced me to Conch Fritters and one of the warmest souls and smiles I've ever met in my life, to my favorite couple (she from Columbian descent, he from Puerto Rican descent) who showed me what true friends are by including me as the third-wheel during many evenings and weekends when I otherwise would have been alone, to my Jewish employee-turned-friend who was my example and hero when it came to my decision to have surgery (she was much braver than I was). I've barely scratched the surface with examples of wonderful people who I call family and friends.

Reflecting on this is a reminder of why I love talking about cultural diversity whenever it comes up. There is nothing more educational when it comes to the topic than people who bring it to life for you.

Cause and Effect

Taking stock in life on a much more intense level than usual. Trying never to think the grass is greener on the other side. Whatever that side might be or entail. Simply trying to evaluate, accept and appreciate life for what it is. Accepting the inevitability of reactions caused by actions or words. Repercussions, good and not so good, a result of something said or done. Learning to accept without allowing feelings of despair to take hold. Each moment a reflection possibility.

All over the place

As the holidays near, the media tells us we're to be happy and boisterous in celebration. Reminding us to appreciate and spend time with family and buy, buy, buy for them. But the fact is, this time of year should really be no different than any other time of the year. Shouldn't we always appreciate our family? Further, when I don't buy, buy, buy for people the rest of the year (unless it's something from my heart or needed), why would I cave into the pressure of buying so many gifts this time of year? Don't get me wrong, I'm no scrooge muttering 'bah humbug'...but I am taking a stand against the consumer driven society we live in that makes people feel they are less than worthy if they're unable to boost the economy with purchases to present to family and friends.


For the first time in many years, I'm baking, cooking and making things by hand. This is from my heart and takes much more creativity and personal investment than anything I could purchase at the store. Of course, I have to tell that to my niece and nephew who reminded me of how excited they were to open up all their gifts in a couple of days. Ah yes, programming of the young minds.

Sadly, yesterday I was reminded that no matter what time of year, people will still die (as some did in a horrible car pile-up on I-10 due to a dust storm). I imagine that they were going about their lives the same way we did yesterday. Having no clue of their fate. As sad as that is to share, I share it because it is a reminder that regardless of the time of year, we should live each day to its fullest. We just never know when this life is over.

On another note, I was also reminded of how blessed I am. I was asked to interview for a position at a college that I didn't even apply for. That, in itself, is something to feel pretty good about. As the Dean and two others asked me questions, I had no choice but to reflect on my life and how I reached where I am today. Looking back at the past 20 years (yes, it's been THAT long since I graduated from high school), I can certainly take some credit for the years and years of studying I've done but I cannot take credit for the path that was laid before me. It just happened to be one of those things that was meant to be (God's path for me, fate, etc.) and I was fortunate enough to follow it. Even if this position is not meant to be the next step in my career, the interview gave me an opportunity to reflect on all the positives in my life and how what I've been blessed with, must be given back in some way.

Life is not perfect, it never will be, but it is blessed. And I will work hard to remind myself of this on a daily basis. I realize I'm all over the place on this post, but I'm feeling rather all over the place so my writing reflects that.

Merry Christmas family and friends!