Things

What kinds of things do you remember about certain people? Your grandmother? Dad? Uncle? Sister? There are certain things that we remember the people in our lives by. I always wonder how we're attached to (or repulsed by) varying objects or actions that hold a special significance or memory of someone. Here are some of my memories:

I always remember my grandmother coming to visit and unloading our dishwasher quietly before anyone was out of bed in the morning. And she would always ask, first thing, what we wanted for breakfast after giving hugs. 

My great-grandmother always had new dresses with the Belk price tags laying on her guest bed. She never wore them.

My dad taught me how to vacuum the "right way" and would pretend to screen calls from my "agent," Rex, when I played movie star with a homemade cardboard cell phone with a Capri Sun straw antenna.

I went to a friend's house last week and used her family's Juice-o-mat to squeeze limes for our rhubarbaritas. I'd never seen one of these contraptions, but it was so easy to use and a definite workhorse for squeezing citrus. She told me it was her husband's mother's from ages ago when she made them fresh squeezed orange juice for breakfast. Another memory.

Drink up!

So I went looking on eBay for it and found one. Now to get into bidding! It's stuff like this that really makes me wonder what kinds of things I do or have in my own family that I'll be remembered by.

The Juice-o-mat!

Winning and Losing

Recently, a friend of mine told me about the five year-old she babysits and how he taught her to play chess. She described how he led her patiently through the names of the pieces, the way to move across the board, and all the other nuances of chess he knew in his wise five years. And then they played. And he won. But instead of celebrating his victory over his babysitter all he said was, "There are no winners or losers. The game just ended."

Yesterday, North Carolina voted to pass Amendment One, the newest revision to our state constitution. In politics, like chess, there are myriad complexities and moves that determine who might be the winner or loser. Because of this new amendment, I sense that there may be a number of people who do truly lose that for which they fight so vigilantly. But thinking about this story makes me hopeful that this game we're playing of morals and tradition and right and wrong isn't a moment to cheer over a win or give up in defeat--it just ended. Perhaps, maybe not now, maybe later, there won't be any winners or losers. Maybe we'll be able to figure out a way to start a new kind of game called compromise where the rules are simple: grow understanding. However, I have no doubt that yesterday's election is just the beginning of a long, complicated road.

It is suffocating to look at most social media about the amendment and read complaints about who is right or wrong, or about how backwards we are as a state, a reason to pack up and leave. If anything, the results of this election are not a reason to move, but a justification for staying here during this incredible time in our history. I'm proud of the people who did their research and voted against the amendment. For those who voted for it--well, there's a lot of educating to be done, I guess. Instead of fighting, though, I urge you to grow pockets of love where you find them and share that with others. Focusing on the negative breeds negativity; finding and sharing the positive only attracts more of it.

The "Writer's Almanac" poem for today seems fitting as we look inward and outward at what's to come, so I share it here.

Eagle Poem by Joy Harjo 

To pray you open your whole self
To sky, to earth, to sun, to moon
To one whole voice that is you.
And know there is more
That you can't see, can't hear
Can't know except in moments
Steadily growing, and in languages
That aren't always sound but other
Circles of motion.
Like eagle that Sunday morning
Over Salt River. Circled in blue sky
In wind, swept our hearts clean
With sacred wings.
We see you, see ourselves and know
That we must take the utmost care
And kindness in all things.
Breathe in, knowing we are made of
All this, and breathe, knowing
We are truly blessed because we
Were born, and die soon, within a
True circle of motion,
Like eagle rounding out the morning
Inside us.
We pray that it will be done
In beauty.
In beauty.

An Important Day

For North Carolinians (and I'd say many people in the U.S.), today marks an important time in our history. Today, people are voting on Amendment One--what some are calling the "marriage amendment"--that would strip gay couples' ability to marry, and interferes with legal protections for unmarried couples and their children as well as unmarried women and older adults. Find out how.

North Carolina already has a law against gay marriage, and this poorly written constitutional amendment is merely a bold, brazen statement of bigotry and discrimination against another minority group. And, I suppose, what can be seen as the most disappointing aspect of this prejudice is the negative publicity North Carolina receives as being yet another backward Bible Belt state (well, at least by folks who might lean left). On the other hand, the national attention this topic grabs--and the numbers of people voting against this amendment at the polls--can send an equally strong message that people in our state care about the well being of ALL citizens who live here.

In my mind, it's one thing to make a statement against gay marriage affecting adults (a very poorly constructed statement, mind you), and quite another to take away the limited rights of our most vulnerable population: children. This amendment affects their healthcare coverage, the protection of visitation rights, and custody by a committed parent they love.

I also find it infuriating that this amendment could also harm unmarried women by taking away domestic violence protections. As someone who falls into this category, and whose reproductive rights are also being slashed away at by state and national (majority male) political figures, I am incensed by the direction our "moral" compass points at this moment. What the hell happened to women's rights? Civil rights? Have we forgotten our history? Have we become so removed from ourselves and our communities that we are numb to the repercussions of our state and national "leadership"?

OK.

Today is a big day. So I voted. Actually, I drove to Raleigh last night, slept for five hours, voted, and drove back to Greensboro in time for work at 8 a.m. And I got to vote with my mom, which was even more special since she's someone who has always taught me to stand up for myself in situations like this one. And no, I haven't been brought up on bra-burning feminism, just a good old fashioned sense of justice, fairness, and love. And that is why this is important.

We voted AGAINST!

Whole-Heartedness and an Email

How much do you like TED Talks? (Yes, that's a leading question).

Recently, my friend Nicole told me about a particular talk called "The Power of Vulnerability" by Brene Brown. Her talk underscores the fact that humans need love and connection. A lot of what prevents us from feeling love and connection are feelings of shame--the sense of "I'm not ____ enough." On the other hand, when people have love and connection they believe they are worthy, that they are "enough," regardless of others' impressions. These people are what she calls whole-hearted, and whole-heartedness comes from the courage to be imperfect, to practice compassion with themselves and then others, and to be authentic.

Now here's where she gets me:
"The other thing that they had in common was this: They fully embraced vulnerability. They believed that what made them vulnerable made them beautiful. They didn't talk about vulnerability being comfortable, nor did they really talk about it being excruciating -- as I had heard it earlier in the shame interviewing. They just talked about it being necessary. They talked about the willingness to say, "I love you" first, the willingness to do something where there are no guarantees, the willingness to breathe through waiting for the doctor to call after your mammogram. They're willing to invest in a relationship that may or may not work out. They thought this was fundamental."

So, I'll tell you a (not so) secret: I'm dating someone new. And I really like him. I like like him. And it's sort of scaring me shitless. But it's also exciting and marvelous and draws me to checking my inbox for his quirky emails and wanting to plan weekend visits and imagine doing all sorts of fun things quite possibly past next weekend and the next and the next. And it's requiring me to be vulnerable. To be, in Brene's words, willing to "do something where there are no guarantees" and "invest in a relationship that may or may not work out."

And that requires patience and presence. The ability to live in joy in the moment and not worry too much about those future weekends and be grateful for what IS. NOW.

Today, I sent him an email. Innocent really. But I included two tiny letters that I've never closed an email to him with: xo. How do I feel? Vulnerable. I'm not sure how he's going to receive this text (or even acknowledge it if at all) given that neither one of us has been particularly lovey in our messages. X. Kiss. O. Hug. Simple, right? Not "I love you," but it's also not the usual banter.  I'm putting it out there: I care for you. I enjoy you. I like like you.

I clicked "send" before I gave myself too much time to reconsider because one part of me thinks, "Well, if he's not into it, then it's better to know now than later...and then I won't get as hurt. Right?" And the other part is, "Fuck it. What makes me vulnerable makes me beautiful. (Good quote, Bren)." And then the tiniest part says, "Kate, you are enough. Stop worrying. Live now. Trust the process." (That's the part, the little seed inside, that I must water the most). ...I need to log out of my email.

I aim to be whole-hearted. To have courage. And now that my heart feels so light and bursting, it's time to embrace all aspects of being vulnerable in this new space. Because if I'm not in that space I'm numb, and I'd much prefer to be able to tell you that I'm almost scared shitless than to say I don't feel anything at all. I am enough. 

Let's just hope he replies soon.
  

I can't think of a title!

so I'm sharing music instead. This remix of Nora Jones' song, "After the Fall," is really great. There's another remix by David Sitek of Nora's song, "She's 22," that's also worth checking out. Usually, I'm not too crazy about remixes, but this one sounds worth coming back to.

It is

Right now there is a feeling of newness about everything. A sense of possibility. And I can't sleep because of it! On the one hand, not being able to go to bed at a reasonable hour or waking with a sense of urgency and restlessness could be a real bummer. On the other, wanting to wake up because I'm excited to be alive and ready for a new day is pretty damn energizing. I don't know many people who do that. Well, maybe some...but they're either naturally frighteningly optimistic or on medication. 

After a mini sabbatical, I've finally been able to clear my evenings and drag myself into yoga a few days a week. Yeah, so I'm being dramatic, but getting ready for class and stepping into the hot room is the hardest part of my practice. I just have to remind myself that this practice is better than Prozac and, though I may not want to go, I never regret going. Plus, I'm there to circumvent what my friend Kate calls TAPS, or fondly known as Tight Angry Person Syndrome.

Also: School is almost done! Whole Foods opened in Greensboro! I have a summer job! I'm going to the Cayman Brac for 17 days in June! Lots of hanging out with new and old friends! Weekend trips! Forays into (I need to have already seen these) movie watching! Learning Spanish! (!!!!!!!!!!!!!do you see why sleep is hard?!?!?!?!!?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Gram's view on Cayman Brac

Further, worth mentioning is something new that I've been trying to bring in a lot of good energy. The first is doing daily affirmations and the second is keeping a brief gratitude list. Both are great for shifting perspective and refocusing on what's most important. I'm also trying to quiet my inner critic by replacing the I should's or I'm not ______ enough's with the notion that things are perfect just the way they are at any given moment. It's liberating. (Especially for those of you who are recovering perfectionists like me). And while I haven't completely conditioned myself to be the eternal optimist and am not terribly fond of the saying, "It's all good," it is good. Even when it's not. It just is.

And now for a brief internet roundup!

For any of you who have always wanted to dress up your boyfriend like your favorite nerd.
I'm into these boots for guys. Or Red Wings. Le sigh.
This makes starting a compost pile much more accessible.
Did any of you read "Highlights"? (My mom subscribed for years when we were little).

Curate v. /ˈkyo͝oˌrāt/

to select, organize, and present (suitable content, typically for online or computational use): nearly every major news organization is using Twitter’s new lists feature to curate tweets about the earthquake (as adjective curated) a curated alternative to the world’s most popular video portal

I've never used the word curate like this before but it makes perfect sense to describe the process of managing and organizing internet content, which can be so overwhelming. Really, there has to be a better way of keeping track of things...you should see my Google reader...truly awful. Whatever. I am bedazzled by the amount of information available online--sometimes the knowledge gaining excitement meter goes through the roof!

Today, I'm going to begin (or try) curating some sites I like. (This list is probably going to grow). Here goes:

Cracked

Radiolab

Wired - Frontal Cortex

Sound Opinions

Design Scouting

We Are Hunted

The Writer's Almanac

And I found the blog by Mara Wilson (ie. Matilda--remember her?!)

Don't forget the daily Yahoo! Shine horoscope.

And a song: