Category Archives: RW Lifestyle

Making Art From Trash

03 Saturday Dec 2016

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The beginning of November in Colorado was lovely and so, one sunny Saturday, I paid money to look at trash.  Beach trash.  Or, at least, beach plastic.  The Washed Ashore Exhibit is available for viewing at The Denver Zoo and I badly wanted to see it.  If anyone lives in the area or the Exhibit is coming to a location near you, I encourage seeing it for two reasons.

Reason One: The Exhibit is fun and interesting considered as mere works of art.  I don’t have the sort of mind that looks at discarded water bottles, chairs, tires, boots, flip-flops, shotgun shells, pop cans, random toys, and toilet seats and sees animal sculptures.  How all of this trash is turned into sculptures complete with waves, sea plants, and reefs is beyond me and I had great fun seeing how all the different objects came together to create animals like sharks, penguins, and jellyfish.

Reason Two:  I’ve lived in landlocked states most of my life, barring a University stint in Juneau Alaska, but have always loved the ocean.  I had dreams of being a Marine Biologist and, while that didn’t work out, I’ve never stopped caring about the oceans and its creatures.  The plastic soup swirling in ocean gyres, being eaten by the inhabitants of the oceans, and being dumped on the beaches horrifies me.  The Exhibit exists because volunteers pick up marine debris from beaches and the objects are then recycled into art that’s both fun to look at but helps bring awareness to a massive problem.

According to Washedashore.org, over 60 sculptures have been created and 38,000 pounds of marine debris has been processed.  38,000 pounds of garbage.  The number boggles the mind, especially when I realize that 38,000 pounds comprises a tiny part of the estimated 8 million metric tons of plastic waste entering the ocean from land EACH YEAR! (World Economic Forum, January 2016)  Even if that number isn’t accurate, half that would be overwhelming and I’m so grateful to volunteers who partner with organizations like Washed Ashore to do something about it.  Washed Ashore promises small actions make a difference and there are tips for reducing consumption of plastic at every sculpture.

These tips are so easy to incorporate into daily life.  I don’t use single use plastic water bottles if I can help it.  I have stainless steel water bottles with lids that screw tight for hiking and a glass water bottle I use daily while at work.  A bonus to using a glass water bottle is that doing so gets me up out of my office chair as I have to walk half the length of the building to re-fill it.  Good for the environment and my cardiac health.  I’ve found there’s no need to purchase water while on road trips.  No gas station has ever complained about my refilling my water bottle with ice and water from the soda machine and there’s always a basket of fruit where I can purchase a banana or an orange so I don’t feel like I’m taking advantage.  If I have to purchase a bottle of water, I keep a bag in the car to put the plastic in until I can find a recycling center.

My family and I use fabric bags when grocery shopping.  We also watch our shopping habits so we reduce the amount of packaging included with our purchases.  I admit that can sometimes be an inconvenience when I don’t buy a product I need because of packaging-why do I need individual bags of vegetables inside another bag?-but I think the inconvenience is worth it.

The Exhibit is both fun and educational while managing to create beauty from objects that are anything but.  I found it encouraging as well.  I’m not alone in caring about what happens to our oceans and beaches and, together, we can make a difference.

To see the photos I took at the Exhibit, check out my Facebook page.

 

 

 

 

 

The Human Effect

24 Sunday Apr 2016

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I’m a subscriber to Conservation International and have been enjoying the “Nature is Speaking” series.  The message of each of these short videos is that we need nature; nature doesn’t need us.  These videos reminded me of a documentary I saw a while ago called “Radioactive Wolves”.  It was made to coincide with the 25th anniversary of the Chernobyl nuclear incident and is a fascinating study on just how well nature does without human involvement.

25 years has completely changed the landscape both around Chernobyl and within the zone so contaminated with radiation it’s uninhabitable by humans.  Cultivated land and the deserted cities have all been reclaimed by wilderness.  Man-made canals have been damned by beavers and the same beavers have undermined dykes thus returning drained marshland to its natural state.  The area around Chernobyl has become an unintended refuge for endangered species; species that seem to thrive despite the fact that bones of moose test at 50 times normal levels of radiation and fish bones from the area close to the reactor are so contaminated they can’t be touched by bare hands.

Gray wolf, Eagle, and Peregrine falcons are the top predator species that thrive in this reclaimed wilderness.  It doesn’t seem like thriving should be possible with the amount of radiation in the soil which is then taken up by the plants, eaten by the large herbivores and then consumed by the predators, but thrive they do.  The health of their populations stems from the fact that the area is toxic and thus lost to humans.

And, it is toxic.  The documentary referenced a six year study performed on dormice living within the contaminated zone.  4 to 6 percent of every generation shows some sign of abnormality, twice the rate of clean areas.  Those rates are unacceptable to humans and with an estimate of Chernobyl being uninhabitable by humans for the next 20,000 years; these species will be able to continue their uninterrupted life cycles without human intervention.

Almost without human intervention.  Bison were reintroduced into the Belarus side of the exclusion zone in the late 90’s and that decade saw wild horses being introduced on the Ukraine side.  However, wherever there are humans trying to help, there are humans causing problems.  Reproduction rates among the wild horses say there should be close to 200 individuals roaming the wilderness but poachers have brought that number closer to 60: a fact that seems to reinforce the Nature is Speaking message.  Nature doesn’t need us and, indeed, seems to do much better without us.

Does it have to be this way?  If human beings could realize our relationship with the world around us is symbiotic-our ability to thrive depends on the health of our environment-would we start living in balance with it rather than consuming its resources far faster than it can replenish itself?  As always, I can’t answer for anyone but myself.  I try to make the most responsible decisions I can and living in balance with my environment is an ongoing journey.

I am well aware I can’t survive without nature and I want to do all I can to ensure I don’t have to learn how well nature survives without me.

 

Vegan for Reasons of My Own

10 Sunday Apr 2016

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My family and I rescued a baby rabbit the other day.  He got stuck in our basement window well and was too little to jump back out.  I realized I knew very little about rabbits.  At what age are they left to fend for themselves?  If we had to rescue the rabbit by touching him, would his mother reject him?  Was his mother going to come for him?  I didn’t know but we couldn’t leave him there.  My mother and stepfather couldn’t figure out how to pop the basement window out of its frame and we weren’t sure crawling under the porch was going to be feasible.  My stepfather remembered the grate covering the well at porch height lifted off so he headed out and I followed to help.  I tried to climb down inside the well and discovered I suffer from claustrophobia.  So, how to rescue the bunny without turning into a quivering lump?  My stepfather suggested putting our long handled shovel into the well and seeing if the rabbit would climb on.  I was skeptical: no doubt the shovel would scare him.  How would we get him on it-and keep him on it-long enough to lift him out without hurting him?

Imagine my surprise when the rabbit gave the shovel a sniff and climbed right on.  He stayed perched on until I’d lifted him out of the well and he could hop off under our deck to cheers from my mother.  I swear that rabbit knew we were trying to help him and REALLY wanted out of the window well.  Anthropomorphism aside, the rabbits actions denoted an intelligence and understanding that surprised me a little and then got me thinking about why I became a vegan.

My reasons were two-fold.  One, I was terrified arthritis was going to put me in a wheelchair and I wanted to avoid that at all costs.  I’d read that the vegan/plant-based diet cured all sorts of ills and I was desperate enough to change my lifestyle.  At the same time, I experienced a crisis of conscience.  The thought of eating specific animals horrified me.  Why them and not others?  Was intelligence the basis for my choosing to eat some animals and not others?  I checked The Kind Diet out of the library, even told my mother I was just curious and was NOT looking to become a vegan, and then became a vegan.

I confess better health was my driving force.  I was conflicted about animals and didn’t want to contribute to their suffering but had a long way to go before I could say with all honesty “I’m Vegan for the Animals”.  And then, I didn’t want to say “I’m Vegan for the Animals” because, as I studied up on nutrition and how to stay healthy on the vegan diet, I ran into authors who had the attitude that those who chose a vegan lifestyle for health were somehow less ‘vegan’ than those that did so for the animals.  I admit I can be a little too “my good opinion once lost is lost forever” (Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen) but that attitude upset me so much I still won’t buy those authors’ cookbooks and I’ve been vegan for close to five years.

Fortunately, I encountered far more kind and supportive vegans than I did rude and obnoxious ones and my health has thanked me for it.  The improvement in my health did clear the way for me to consider how I thought of the other living beings that inhabited this planet with me; not just animals.  Now I can say; “I’m vegan for my health, for others’ health, for the health of this planet I live on, for other humans, and yes; for the animals”.

The longer I study, the more reasons I have for the lifestyle I’ve chosen and that’s just it; it’s my lifestyle and my reasons: I would never consider myself superior to anyone else just because I’ve made changes they can’t-or won’t-make themselves.  My choices are mine alone and, again, I want to send my thanks out to all the vegans and non-vegans alike who supported me, freely answered my questions, and let me make such choices for myself.  I strive to be so kind.

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The rabbit is being camera-shy so, instead, here’s a sampling of my cookbook collection. I use all sorts of things to bookmark recipes…

 

 

In Search of Myself

09 Wednesday Dec 2015

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Motivation

I’ll be the first to admit I don’t use social media to its fullest potential.  I have stacks of books to read and usually only use a computer for work.  Sometimes, I wonder if social media isn’t a waste of time but then I connect with someone, see something that makes me laugh, or read something that makes me think and I see social media’s value.  The image at the top of this post was one that rocked me back on my metaphorical heels.

I don’t remember a time when I ever had a wide-eyed, innocent moment.  My childhood wasn’t conducive to wide-eyed innocent moments, a fact I’m much to old to worry about now.  Besides, like the apostle; I forget what lies behind and press on toward the goal…

…of what?  I read this quote and was trying to remember any wide-eyed innocent moments from my past and I realized what I was really asking myself was, when was the last time I felt like myself?  I’m working as a bookkeeper for a nonprofit that does good work: why am I so tired, stressed out, and sad all the time?  The work is stressful, sure and I have a lot of responsibility, but it’s good work that’s making a positive impact on the community.  Why aren’t I fulfilled?  Why do I feel like I’ve lost myself?

Because, this job swallows up my entire life.  Earlier in November, I worked close to a 13 hour day.  Does that happen all the time?  No, but do I find I have to give more and more of myself to the demands of the job?  Yes.  And, that leaves little time for writing.

I realized those were the times I feel the most like myself.  I feel connected to those things that make me me during those brief moments when I had enough energy after making it through a day of work to write something, anything.  The second half of the quote is what really struck me.  If I’m feeling disconnected and, yes, depressed, what has changed?  What shouldn’t have?  The answer I came up with?  Some time during the last year, I allowed the demands of the job to be my priority and let writing be the thing I did with whatever energy I had left over.

This quote made me feel like I’ve reached a crossroads.  My job isn’t bad.  I have great friends I work with, I feel like a part of something every time an adoption of a child in foster care is completed, and I like the logic of bookkeeping; but a voice deep down tells me it isn’t enough.  I may be doing good work but it isn’t what my heart longs to do.  I have to make a change or something precious inside will die.

I quit my job.  It was an extremely difficult decision, especially as I don’t have another and every responsible bone in my body takes issue with leaving a regular salary for the unknown.  And yet…I’m beginning to feel like myself.  The outer me feels less like a shell going through the motions of being a responsible adult and is steadily reconnecting with something vibrant on the inside I fear I almost lost.

I am writing.

Who knows what will come of it.  There’s another voice that says no one will be interested in the stories I have to tell.  Maybe not but I don’t regret my decision one iota.  Sure, I’ll have to get a job eventually: my savings won’t hold out forever.  But, I know for certain my next job will support my writing rather than keep me from it.  I won’t make the same mistake again.

My thanks to Jonathan Scott and #MondayMotivation.  Who knew social media would provide the impetus for me getting my passions back on track?  I never would have believed it but they are, and I am, and myself and I are getting reacquainted.

 

 

 

Books, How I Love Thee…

20 Friday Feb 2015

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And I do.

I’ve been reading for as long as I remember. My mother tells me I started when I was two which I’ll have to take her word for as my memory is vague when I attempt to push it that far back. I do know there has hardly been a time in my life when I haven’t had a book of some sort with me and one of the joys of adult life is being able to build my personal library. Only the ones I know I’ll read again earn a permanent spot on my shelves and I have books that have been my favorites for decades along side new favorites. I find it interesting to see how my taste in reading has changed throughout the years but then I look at my shelves and wonder if it has, really.

One of my favorite stories is The Black Arrow by Robert Louis Stevenson. I can’t remember how young I was when I first read it but the adventure and romance captured my imagination then and continues to do so now. I think I understand more of it as an adult than I did as a child. All I saw was adventure and romance then, I see politics and racism now-but still adventure and romance.

A Wrinkle in Time is one of my favorites. Over twenty years have passed since I first read it and I can still pick it up and become immersed in what is marketed as a children’s book. Island of the Blue Dolphins is the same. I was ten or eleven when I first read it and was amazed at Karana. I wondered if I would be able to survive the way she had and was fairly certain I would not. There are still times I pick up this book and spend an hour marveling at Karana’s strength and mourning her loss. Mary O’Hara’s books have stayed on my shelves for decades as well.

My shelves also have books I would never have considered reading when I was younger. I liked fiction. The worlds I read about were real to me so why did I need non-fiction. Thank God that, as an adult, I have found joy in non-fiction. Think of all I would have missed, like the history books written by Philip Matyszak. His books make me laugh until my face hurts. Oddly, Herodotus’ Histories also make me laugh, something I did not expect. I swear I can hear the tone of his writing change when he begins making stuff up. He fascinates me because I read that he was an oddity for choosing to travel so far from his home. I like oddities, being one myself, and I’d like to know more about Herodotus. Unfortunately-or fortunately, depending on your view-Herodotus disappears inside his Histories and I found very little of his character revealed in his writing.

I read Thucydides because I read somewhere he scorned Herodotus’ Histories and wanted to write a pure history of the Peloponnesian War. Just the facts, ma’am. Thucydides sits on my shelf between Tacitus and Xenophon: my shelves are sorted both by genre and then alphabetical. One of my joys is to reconsider my current sorting method and decide whether or not there’s a better one. Should my classic literature be separate from my modern literature? Does Mark Twain qualify as literature or should he be moved to my Children’s books section? I may need to get out more.

Anywho…when I’ve had my fill of history I turn to a Georgette Heyer romance or a Jacqueline Girdner mystery. Or Jack London. Or Mark Twain. Or Robert Louis Stevenson. Or Lois McMaster Bujold. Or Wilkie Collins. Or Jane Austen. You’ll find all of them on my shelves along with so many others.

As my collection has expanded, it has caused me to indulge in some deep introspection. All of these books must be dusted, cared for, and read. Which means, what do I really want to keep hold of? Am I keeping books because they make me look smart when I have no interest in reading them ever again? That answer was yes.

I’d read Gone With the Wind in the third grade sure I was going to be exposed to a great romance. Perhaps I was but I remember I liked Walter Farley and Anna Sewell much better. I read it again as an adult and still preferred Walter Farley and Anna Sewell. Gone With the Wind was traded for something I’ll treasure.

I had to admit I don’t care for Dickens. I felt like I could tell he was paid by the word. Not that I dislike his writing: I enjoyed his foray into banking in A Tale of Two Cities and could picture a young man being kept in a basement until he was old. My problem? I’d almost forgotten the plot by the time Dickens wended his way back to it. I much prefer Wilkie Collins. I dragged The Moonstone everywhere with me until I’d finished it. It took me a full two days and I don’t think I was of much use to anyone until I closed the covers for the last time but it was worth it. The Woman in White and No Name quickly found space on my shelves.

I’ve tried twice to read Anna Karenina and never finished it. I had a co-worker urge me to try again and it’s on my list: perhaps the third time will be a charm. However, I devoured Ivan Turgenev’s Fathers and Sons in one sitting. I haven’t purchased it as I don’t know I’d read it again but I remember how the words flowed so smoothly the rhythm of my read was never interrupted. Not a happy story but not sad either. It intrigued me.

So why the introspection now? I recently reached a point where I could not purchase another book unless I started stacking them on the floor or acquired another bookshelf. I had to take another hard look at what I was keeping and ask myself, are you really going to read these again? I found a few where that answer was no. I find I prefer reading Plutarch, Julius Caesar, Cicero, and Marcus Aurelius rather than fiction about Rome (unless it’s an incredible story) so a few of those could go. Akhenaten fascinates me and I found myself annoyed with a fictional account of his and Nefertiti’s building of Amarna so that went in the trade box. A ruthless and honest look at my taste in books made me pull The Works of H.G. Wells. This consisted of his lesser known writings: excellent writing but the stories are a tad depressing. Into the box it went.

I’m well known at a few of the used bookstores in town and all I need to do now is clear some time when I can do some trading. The problem with used bookstores is I recognize my old books on the shelf and feel a tug towards them. Did I really want to weed that from the shelf? Won’t I read that again? Should I consider buying it back? I’ve yet to actually buy one of my trades back but who knows…I’ve cleared some space on my shelves…

These will never be traded. My Argonautica is simultaneously English and Greek. I might learn Greek one day and read it in the original...

These will never be traded. My Argonautica is simultaneously English and Greek. I might learn Greek one day and read it in the original…

It’s My Style!

07 Wednesday Jan 2015

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I’ve never cared for fashion.  Jeans and t-shirts: that was me.  Still is to a great extent but I’m growing older and I find myself taking a little more care in how I dress.  My office job contributes to that: I need to look nice for board meetings.  Thus, a burgeoning interest, if not quite love, for fashion.
The more I learn about the world, the more important it becomes for me to make responsible choices which means I don’t buy a great deal of clothing new.  I’m a thrift store shopper.  Thrift stores are a fantastic place to find clothes because I love a bargain.  I then use the money I saved on my bargain wardrobe to purchase books and a few nice pieces that serve to dress up my bargain finds.  Since these items are new, they have to be organic, sustainable, and support fair trade.  Since I prefer they not be too expensive, I shop Ebay.
Ebay is another of my favorite places to grab a good deal.  I can’t always find clothing that fits at a thrift store.  I’m tall with broad shoulders, long arms, and long legs.  I find most tall people are like me: when they find something that fits they wear it until it falls apart which means it can be difficult to find clothes-especially pants-at a thrift store.  Ebay fills that void.  I can put in my size, my inseam and choose the color.  Best of all, I can choose the material I’m looking for and organic cotton, hemp, and bamboo are all options. It was while using these search parameters that I found Nancy’s Gone Green.
Nancy’s Gone Green was the perfect place for finding second hand bargains alongside eco-friendly brands.  I could find a good sale among the eco-friendly brands if I waited long enough and picked up clothing from brands like Threads For Thought at a fraction of the price.  My wardrobe needed supplementing and I recently ordered several shirts to replace the shapeless, fading ones I could no longer wear to my office job.  While placing my order, I saw the Nancy’s Gone Green business name was changing to Ash and Rose.  Ever curious, I browsed the new Ash and Rose website and discovered I liked fashion after all.  I found items like this vegan jacket:
Vegan Leather Jacketand these Neuarua pumps:
Shoesand could imagine myself wearing them to a board meeting, or on a date…it could happen.
While perusing the Ash and Rose website, I made contact with Mary Savoca, co-founder and buyer for Nancy’s Gone Green; now Ash and Rose.  Mary is responsible for forging the partnerships with eco-friendly brands while her mother focuses on the Ash and Rose private label designs.  Mary was kind enough to take some time out of her schedule to answer some questions about the eco designers that make up the bulk of the collection as well as the original private label designs.
Kate: How did you form partnerships with all the eco designers you work with, and what criteria do you use to choose what brands to sell?
Mary: I’ve been building relationships with eco fashion designers for almost a decade now! It started with my first business, which I co-founded with my mom Nea. We had fun selling vintage clothing on eBay for a while, and decided to open our own online shop. While Nea continued to focus on vintage, I decided to pursue my own interest in organic and sustainable clothing, which felt like a natural complement to vintage. It all started with an online search for eco brands, and then I started going to trade shows too.
Now that we’ve opened Ash & Rose, Nea is focused on developing our private label collection, while I continue to scout out new eco collections to offer in our shop. It’s amazing how much the eco-fashion landscape has changed in just the past few years. It used to be just a handful of expensive couture designer labels, with a smattering of more affordable but super boring styles, and of course the tie-dyed organic t-shirts with peace signs…ugh!
Now there are tons of new eco labels popping up every season, with a huge range of styles and prices. I look for designers who manufacture in the USA or follow fair labor guidelines for imports. Materials must be sustainable – usually organic or recycled, and the manufacturing process must have a low environmental impact. There is no such thing as cheap eco fashion, but I’m committed to offering accessible prices: most things in our shop are under $100 and nothing is over $200. I look for practical, comfortable clothes with artful designs and unexpected details. And of course, I have to absolutely love everything we sell!
Kate: You sell a lot of products that are made from recycled fabrics. Can you tell me what the recycled materials are and where they come from? How are recycled materials turned into garments?
 
Mary: When you think of “eco” fabrics, polyester is probably not on the list, right? Recycled polyester is actually one of the greatest innovations in sustainable textiles. It’s made from post-consumer plastic bottles and other plastic waste that’s ground into tiny flakes, melted down, and extruded into new fibers. It’s a low-impact process, and the best part is that recycled poly garments are really affordable!
Threads 4 Thought is a great entry-level eco brand that uses fabric blends containing recycled polyester in most of their garments. They work with a factory in Weihai China that has one of the most advanced waste-water recycling programs in the world, recycling 82% of their water (the highest in the US is 20%). One of my favorite pieces from T4T is the Curry Blouse made from recycled poly chiffon.
The Curry Blouse

The Curry Blouse

Lur is a fantastic company that takes sustainability to new heights with their innovative fabric. It’s made from 50% recycled poly, and 50% recycled cotton. The cotton comes from apparel factory scraps, which are broken down and spun into new yarn. The scrap cotton yarn provides all the color for Lur garments – no new dyes are used! The Passionflower Poncho is my top pick from Lur right now.
Passionflower Poncho

Passionflower Poncho

Kate: I love that Nea is making clothes right here in the USA. Where does she get inspiration for her designs? What is her process from concept to end result for a garment like the Watercolor Maxi Dress?
Watercolor Dress

Watercolor Maxi Dress

Mary: It’s so much fun for me to see my mom at work – she is a phenomenal designer and an expert at her craft. She starts with salvaged and designer remnant fabrics. These are cast-offs from larger manufacturers, slightly flawed fabric or extra bolts that normally would get trashed. She also works with vintage fabrics, from things like old curtains or handmade lace tablecloths! Nea looks for beautiful fabrics that inspire her, and the designs usually spring from there.
With the Watercolor Maxi Dress, Nea started with the soft, sheer fabric with an abstract floral print in gorgeous cool tones. It really just had to become a full length gown – the fabric spoke! Since she was designing for fall, she went for a higher boat neckline and cap sleeves. Then she looked through her massive collection of vintage and antique lace and trim and found a handmade black trim that was the absolutely perfect accent at the waistline.
Right now, Nea does 100% of the production herself at her home studio. That means that when you buy an Ash & Rose Collection garment, her handwork went into every step of the process! We don’t offer the collection wholesale, so the prices are pretty amazing for garments that are handcrafted by the designer from start to finish. Even as she starts to work with local factories to produce certain designs, she’ll continue to use reclaimed fabrics and oversee every step of the process.
My thanks to Mary for answering my questions!  For more information on how Mary and her mother got started, check out their blog on Ash and Rose.
For all you fashion lovers out there: while Nancy’s Gone Green is transitioning to Ash and Rose, there is an amazing sale going on.  Looking for eco deals?  Check it out!
This dress is on the Wishlist

This dress is on the Wishlist

So What Do You Want Me To Do About It?

31 Wednesday Dec 2014

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I admit it.  I’m an activist.  I never thought I’d become one as the very word always elicited rather negative mental pictures.  But then I made some lifestyle changes and, the more I educated myself, the more of an activist I became.  I can’t label myself ‘activist’ for one particular cause: there are so many things I’m passionate about it would take more space than WordPress allots me to list them all.

One thing I am not passionate about are articles and documentaries that show me an injustice, get me riled up about it, and then neglect to offer me any action I can take to try and improve the situation.  I get caught in that trap  more often than I care to admit.  I just shared an article on my Facebook page that I removed after a second read and careful thought.  Did I disagree with the article?  No.  Do I think hauling the actions some would commit in darkness into the light is bad?  No.  Did the article offer me any hope at all or did it just make me angry?  Answer?  It made me angry and offered no hope.  So, I took it down.  If I find something that makes the same point and offers me a glimmer of hope, I’ll post that one.

What’s the big deal, I ask myself.  In my case, it’s that I dislike anger I can’t direct at something constructive.  If I read an article that gets me angry and leaves me that way, what do I do with that anger?  Stomp around my house?  Track down the people mentioned in the article and leave mean things on their Facebook pages?  Spend my afternoon with an anger that steadily morphs into depression and despair because there’s just nothing I can do about any of it so what’s the point in trying at all?

Ephesians 4:26 tells me to “Be angry yet sin not”.  To me, this tells me anger is a good thing.  I should be angry that fellow human beings are starving in refugee camps.  The systematic poisoning of our air and water should make me angry.  But, that anger should not become destructive.  Rather, the heat of it should make me get up off my duff, give money-or time since I’m short on money-and do something to change the situation. Easiest of all, anger should make me look at my life and see how my choices affect this world I’m a tiny part of.

And I do mean tiny.  It’s difficult to believe anything I do or choice I make can have any sort of impact in the world.  The problems of the world are so vast: what can one limited (not disabled!) woman do, especially when I’m up against corporations who have billions of dollars and all the power that money buys at their backs?  To quote one of my favorite authors; A single drop can’t make even a puddle, but together, all our little drops and God’s planning can make not only a mighty ocean but a mighty difference.  (And It Was Good Madeleine L’Engle, 1983)

Quotes like this help me.  Maybe I am a tiny drop but there are others striving to make a difference.  They may not look like me, talk like me, or believe the same things I do but they are striving to better their part of the world the same way I seek to better mine.  My drop joins to theirs and, as more and more of us join together, we become a force at work in the world.  I find joy as well as hope in that thought.

So, thank you to all who write articles intended to make me angry but who add two or three actions I can implement in my life.  Thank you for your bravery in addressing issues that aren’t popular.  I have read your articles.  They have touched my life and my life is changing.

 

 

The Resilience of Dreams

08 Monday Dec 2014

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Alaska Photo

There were only two things I wanted to do when I was a child.  One, I wanted to write books that touched others the way some of the books I was reading touched me.  Two, I wanted to study whales.  The whale bug, if there is such a thing, bit me in the 5th grade.  That was when I discovered Pacific Blue; a cassette tape combining music and whale song.  I listened to that tape over and over, dreaming of one day being on the ocean and hearing whale song for myself.  I only applied to one university when the time came: the University of Alaska Southeast where I knew the Humpback whales’ migratory path would take them.  Fortunately, I was accepted.  Unfortunately, I was only able to complete one year of school before a car accident ended that particular chapter of my life.

I didn’t give up right away.  One of my favorite classes was my Microbiology class and I thought I’d keep my dream but change it up a little by switching majors from Cetacean Biology to Marine Micrology.  That’s a field I made up but the symbiotic relationship between Right whales and the parasites that clean their skin fascinated me.  Maybe my new brain injury meant I couldn’t do the diving and ocean work I’d intended but the dream wasn’t completely lost and I liked looking through microscopes and conducting tests.

I underestimated the devastation of the car accident.  I completed a second year of school before I had to call it quits, admit that the car accident had wrecked my life, and I wasn’t physically or emotionally up to completing my degree.  I went home to recover.

Almost 15 years later, I am still recovering.  It took 5 years after leaving university to give up the scientist dream.  I applied to and was accepted in the Microbiology program at DU but wasn’t able to move forward.  When that door closed, I was devastated.  What was I if I wasn’t a scientist?

In the early months after my car accident, I had a neurologist tell me having a TBI (traumatic brain injury) was a little like PMSing all the time.  She prescribed antidepressants and I hated them.  I don’t know if I can put into words how antidepressants made me feel.  Separated: from myself as well as the world around me is as close as I can come.  I made the decision to stop taking them-without any doctor’s knowledge-and have been antidepressant free for 13 years.

A side note: if you are on an antidepressant and want to quit taking it, DO NOT do so without your doctor’s knowledge.  If I’d known then what I know now about the effect an antidepressant has on the brain, I’d never have stopped cold turkey.  Fortunately, I had no serious side effects from quitting the way I did.

I tell you all of that to tell you that journaling is what saved me once I quit taking mood stabilizers.  My brain injury does cause some emotional difficulties but getting everything down in print helps me to see what I’m experiencing and put it in perspective.  I’ve always written: I wrote my first novel in the seventh grade.  It’s not bad though I say it myself.  I did change the name of my villain halfway through the manuscript but it’s a handwritten manuscript: such a change would be noted and corrected in a second draft. 😉 I’ve consistently journaled since my family gave me my first one for Christmas when I was 9 and I’ve indulged myself over the years by writing poetry.  With the death of my scientist dream, a second began to stir.  What if I could be a writer?  I had at least 20 books I’d started over the years but hadn’t been able to finish: all of them were interesting but none of them were the story my heart wanted to write.  What if I had a story to write?  What if people wanted to read it?  I’d had a paper published while at university: it was one I’d written for my English class where I’d had the audacity to compare/contrast one of Edna St. Vincent Millay’s sonnets with one of my own poems.  My teacher had told me I had talent and offered to help me switch majors if I wanted but writing was just something I did for fun: I was a scientist.

That being my belief, what now?  I’ve never been one to quit on anything but this scientist dream of mine did seem thoroughly dead.  What did I have to lose?  My mother helped me get started.  She smiled when I told her what I was feeling, opened a dictionary, and read me the definition of science.  Definition 2 states “a systematized knowledge derived from observation, study, and experimentation carried on in order to determine the nature or principles of what is being studied”.  That struck me.  My ultimate dream was to discover something I didn’t know about the world and share it with others.  Did I need a microscope for that?  Could I use a pen and paper instead?  I opened a fresh notebook (college ruled-wide ruled has never inspired me to write.  I don’t know why) and started with an idea.

That was years ago.  So many I’m not even sure.  I’ve completed a 612 page manuscript since then.  When people would ask me how my book was going I would reply; “slowly, but I am writing a series of seven and the first one needs to be a solid foundation”.  It’s true, I do have a series of seven planned but re-reading my giant manuscript made me realize I was writing all seven at once.  I’ve narrowed my focus to Book One, laying a foundation I can build on later.

My sense of regret and loss has disappeared as I’ve written, researched, deleted, and written some more.  Writing fulfills me the same way watching a culture blossom and grow used to.  So, all the old adages are true.  No dream dies but another is born.  No door closes but a window is opened.  And, thinking back, I wonder if a dream ever really dies.  I don’t think they do: they are much too resilient to die.  I think the same dream manifests itself in a different way.  Life today looks nothing like I planned but my dream of making discoveries is alive and well.  I have to work on the sharing with others bit.  It’s not easy for someone as naturally introverted as I am, a personality quirk my brain injury has seemed to make worse.  However, the brain injury does not define me and I am striving to expand the borders of my comfort zone.

In an attempt to stretch them to the breaking point, here’s a  poem I wrote when I discovered writing could fulfill me and my life wasn’t a wreck because of one accident.

 

Phoenix Dreams

My dreams lay about me

Broken, Shattered

Shards of once vivid scenes

I stand among them

Staring about me

Hoping to find even one

One piece large enough

To remind me again

Of all that I dreamed

For Oh, how I dreamed

But now there is nothing

Devastation only

Not a spark of the life that once was

As I stare about me

Hopeless, Desperate

Finality comes like a fire

Incinerating all

Leaving nothing but ashes

That listlessly swirl at my feet

But wait! A glimmer

Of light and another

I stand watching amazed

As Phoenix Dreams rise

From the pyre of the past

Taking wing they ascend from the ash

I step forward to follow

Forgetting what’s gone

My dream is reborn