I have been a mostly useless heap of flesh this summer, and I am thoroughly enjoying it. Since my last post, I have found out that I am going to India, which both scares and elates me. I have returned home from school, the only downfall is that the weather here has been very un-summer like. I have spent time gardening in an effort to earn money without ending up in food service. I have read multiple books, like Under the Banner of Heaven, Me Talk Pretty One Day, a good chunk of Guns, Germs, and Steel, and All Quiet on the Western Front. All of which are phenomenal books, especially the last one. It's such a haunting portrayl of war and what it does to those who are forced to participate in it. I'm planning on watching the movie (from the 1930's) later today.
I wasn't expecting anything even remotely exciting to happen last night, but I ended up having a strange night, full of unexpected events. I went to the Milt to go hang out with a good friend of mine, and we went for a walk and caught up with each other. We ended up at a get-together at someone's house I've never been to; people I had vaguely known in high school, but only from a distance. I saw people that I haven't seen in ages - and the most surprising thing of all was that everyone seemed genuinely nice. Now that I think about it, this could have something to do with the booze present, but it was really refreshing. In high school, I had all these pre-conceived notions about people and I assumed a lot about them. Everyone just seemed so shallow and pretentious. But now, it's like all those contrived barriers and all the fakery has just fallen apart. Most of us have realized that the people we were in high school were just these creations - none of us knew who we were and so we all put on a show, doing what we thought we were supposed to. I guess there is hope for people after all. Anyway, my friend and I spent the night around the bonfire watching the festivities since neither of us drink (for different reasons) and making conversation with the people who were passing in and out of our view.
Mostly I enjoyed it because it was an oppurtunity to be social, and lately I've been afraid that I've become antisocial, since I stay in and read so much and see all of 4 people on a regular basis. I was worried that I didn't have any friends except my books, my journal, and Zack and Jess. It's good to know that I can still be put in a social situation and make conversation with people, even if it is banal and pointless chatter. Plus, when you're one of the few sober people, everyone seems to think you're very profound and esoteric - it's good for the ego!
La belle vita!
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Anything but ordinary
There are not words to say how much I want to see this in real life. I find out in a few more days if I get to go to southern India!
Today I had an interview with the two faculty leaders that are going to be taking everyone on the trip. I thought it went pretty well, but I hate when I'm asked why I deserve to go. I mean, I'm sure I'd like to go just as much as anyone else, and I don't think I do deserve it more than anyone else. But I want it more than anyone else. Just talking about it made me giddy. I'm already so invested in this...I hope I get accepted! I didn't even know I wanted this so badly. To think that in January of next year, I could be stepping foot into the Indian ocean! Or walking in some of the oldest temples complexes in the world...Or doing yoga in a real ashram!!! *Sigh* I'm feeling pretty good about it and I've been sending good vibes out to the universe, so it's just a matter of playing the waiting game now.
Today I opened a Dove chocolate and the quote inside was: "Patience is a virtue". Perhaps the universes way of reminding me to enjoy the moment? Lately I haven't been appreciating the present moment because I've been too busy concentrating on summer. I can't wait to be home and my anxiousness means that the days are even longer than they already are. So, I've been trying to just take it a day at a time and have fun in the last few weeks of school. I'm trying to appreciate the ordinary things in my life, like the blooming dogwoods, mountain views, small salamanders, or moments of complete and utter joy!
Monday, April 6, 2009
Creativity!?
In an effort to be more creative and spur some writing, my friend John and I have decided to get a collection of ten words each week and write a vignette, a little short story. Anyway, here are last weeks words, which we got from the woman who works at the local bookstore I frequent. I'm providing the definitions because some of them are really weird.
LIST:
argon: a colorless, inert gaseous element constituting 1% of the earth's atmosphere
perpetual: lasting for eternity
cupcake: a small cake
windcheater: a windbreaker
viscous: of a glutinous nature or consistency, thick, adhesive
Seder: a ceremonial dinner held on the 1st night of Passover
fitchy: the point of the sword at the bottom of the cross
spilikin: from the children's game 'spilikins and jackstraws' (involves throwing straws on the ground and trying to pick them up w/in a time limit)
checkrow: one of a number of rows of trees or plants with equal distance between each other
klatch: an informal, impromptu social gathering
And here's what I wrote when I used them in my story. I just started writing, and this is where it ended up. Definitely unexpected, but I was pleased with the way it turned out.
Strange Seder by Jennifer Foley
I had a feeling it was going to be a strange Seder. I knew something wasn’t going to go well before we even walked into the house. I mean, first of all, we never go over to Aunt Goldberg’s house. Her mom scares the kids, the way she lurches around and throws her wrist in everyone’s face. As if we all weren’t already transfixed by the faded tattoo on her arm. And, even worse, she always starts swearing at me in Yiddish—like I betrayed her and all the other survivors by marrying someone who wasn’t Jewish. He had nothing to do with the Holocaust and I decided a long time ago that the Jewish faith had nothing to do with me.
We pulled into the long, winding driveway and I stared listlessly at the seemingly perpetual checkrows of fir trees. They looked distinctly out of place without snow surrounding them and Christmas lights adorning them. I always did think it was ironic that my Jewish aunt and uncle managed a Christmas tree farm. I told Rick this, and he laughed, saying something about how people had to make a living as he slid into a parking spot in front of the bare ranch house.
The sky was churning above us, a viscous soup of storm clouds the color of a fresh bruise. There was a cool breeze coming from the direction of poultry plant, and I held my breath, an old habit. It took me a second to realize that I didn’t smell the usual fetid aroma that comes from such a place. I figured that maybe the owners were Jewish, and had taken off for the Seder.
“Don’t expect anything too remarkable,” I sighed as I grabbed my windcheater and stepped out of the car.
“Jude, don’t worry. What could they possibly dislike?” Rick grabbed the cupcakes he made and stood in front of me, smiling like an overgrown boy scout. I practically snorted with laughter when I looked at him.
“It’s Judith around my family, and first of all, you’re not Jewish,” I reached over to him and tucked his cross necklace under his shirt, “and that fitchy cross you’re wearing probably won’t go over well. I wasn’t kidding when I told you they’re religious. Second, you brought cupcakes to Seder.”
He just smiled at me, kissed me on the cheek and started for the door. I loved that he didn’t care about what my family thought, but I was nearly cringing just thinking about what they would say. I squared my shoulders and walked forward. I probably looked like I was headed to my last meal on death row.
We walked in and, strangely enough, it was quiet. The kid’s spilikins and jackstraws were strewn across the kitchen floor and there was still matzo scattered across the counter. I mean, this was just a klatch, nothing formal, but usually you couldn’t get a moment of peace in this house. I could hear the TV on in the next room, spitting out the usual blathering.
“An argon leak from a local poultry plant has affected nearly a third of Cook County. Please keep in mind this odorless gas is extremely dangerous and used as an asphyxiant…”
I stopped listening to the anchor on TV at the same time Rick let the cupcakes crash to the floor. There was the family, laying inert and lifeless in the family room, looking both peaceful and stricken at the same time.
LIST:
argon: a colorless, inert gaseous element constituting 1% of the earth's atmosphere
perpetual: lasting for eternity
cupcake: a small cake
windcheater: a windbreaker
viscous: of a glutinous nature or consistency, thick, adhesive
Seder: a ceremonial dinner held on the 1st night of Passover
fitchy: the point of the sword at the bottom of the cross
spilikin: from the children's game 'spilikins and jackstraws' (involves throwing straws on the ground and trying to pick them up w/in a time limit)
checkrow: one of a number of rows of trees or plants with equal distance between each other
klatch: an informal, impromptu social gathering
And here's what I wrote when I used them in my story. I just started writing, and this is where it ended up. Definitely unexpected, but I was pleased with the way it turned out.
Strange Seder by Jennifer Foley
I had a feeling it was going to be a strange Seder. I knew something wasn’t going to go well before we even walked into the house. I mean, first of all, we never go over to Aunt Goldberg’s house. Her mom scares the kids, the way she lurches around and throws her wrist in everyone’s face. As if we all weren’t already transfixed by the faded tattoo on her arm. And, even worse, she always starts swearing at me in Yiddish—like I betrayed her and all the other survivors by marrying someone who wasn’t Jewish. He had nothing to do with the Holocaust and I decided a long time ago that the Jewish faith had nothing to do with me.
We pulled into the long, winding driveway and I stared listlessly at the seemingly perpetual checkrows of fir trees. They looked distinctly out of place without snow surrounding them and Christmas lights adorning them. I always did think it was ironic that my Jewish aunt and uncle managed a Christmas tree farm. I told Rick this, and he laughed, saying something about how people had to make a living as he slid into a parking spot in front of the bare ranch house.
The sky was churning above us, a viscous soup of storm clouds the color of a fresh bruise. There was a cool breeze coming from the direction of poultry plant, and I held my breath, an old habit. It took me a second to realize that I didn’t smell the usual fetid aroma that comes from such a place. I figured that maybe the owners were Jewish, and had taken off for the Seder.
“Don’t expect anything too remarkable,” I sighed as I grabbed my windcheater and stepped out of the car.
“Jude, don’t worry. What could they possibly dislike?” Rick grabbed the cupcakes he made and stood in front of me, smiling like an overgrown boy scout. I practically snorted with laughter when I looked at him.
“It’s Judith around my family, and first of all, you’re not Jewish,” I reached over to him and tucked his cross necklace under his shirt, “and that fitchy cross you’re wearing probably won’t go over well. I wasn’t kidding when I told you they’re religious. Second, you brought cupcakes to Seder.”
He just smiled at me, kissed me on the cheek and started for the door. I loved that he didn’t care about what my family thought, but I was nearly cringing just thinking about what they would say. I squared my shoulders and walked forward. I probably looked like I was headed to my last meal on death row.
We walked in and, strangely enough, it was quiet. The kid’s spilikins and jackstraws were strewn across the kitchen floor and there was still matzo scattered across the counter. I mean, this was just a klatch, nothing formal, but usually you couldn’t get a moment of peace in this house. I could hear the TV on in the next room, spitting out the usual blathering.
“An argon leak from a local poultry plant has affected nearly a third of Cook County. Please keep in mind this odorless gas is extremely dangerous and used as an asphyxiant…”
I stopped listening to the anchor on TV at the same time Rick let the cupcakes crash to the floor. There was the family, laying inert and lifeless in the family room, looking both peaceful and stricken at the same time.
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Strange Blessings
Since I’ve last written, I’ve actually grown up! I am now 20 years old. Two decades! That’s a pretty solid and intimidating number.
I feel like I’m finally able to breathe again.
In retrospect, the week doesn’t look so bad. But I felt pretty crazed for most of it. Thankfully, I finished the two tests I was dreading, got through the longest lab session of my life, and registered for classes. I’ve had all afternoon to myself, so I spent some time sitting in the sunshine reading, listening to music, and reflecting.
I felt like I really had to fight to stay optimistic this week. Usually, I’m the most optimistic person I know, so I felt a little bewildered when I suddenly felt so gloomy. Whatever funk I was in didn’t last very long, since the minute Thursday came and the sun came out, I was my normal happy go-lucky self.
Also, I came across a quote that helped me put things in perspective. It’s from Primo Levi’s book Survival in Auschwitz, which I haven’t actually read, but it was mentioned in another book I’m working on. “It is lucky that it is not windy today,” Levi writes. “Strange, how in some way, one always has the impression of being fortunate, how some chance happening, perhaps infinitesimal, stops us crossing the threshold of despair and allows us to live”. It just reminds me that there is always something to be happy about, no matter how small.
So, in order to lift my spirits, I made a list of things I’m grateful for and things to be happy about. Here it is!
- Grass that is soft and not itchy.
- Exchanging letters
- The company of good friends
- Not being raised in a polygamist cult
- Towels that are fresh out of the dryer
- Singing along
- The Big Dipper on clear nights
- Random acts of kindness
- Unexpected phone calls from the people I miss dearly
- Supportive parents
- Books of every kind!
- Spring and everything about it
- Baby animals
- Chocolate
- Strange blessings
I feel like I’m finally able to breathe again.
In retrospect, the week doesn’t look so bad. But I felt pretty crazed for most of it. Thankfully, I finished the two tests I was dreading, got through the longest lab session of my life, and registered for classes. I’ve had all afternoon to myself, so I spent some time sitting in the sunshine reading, listening to music, and reflecting.
I felt like I really had to fight to stay optimistic this week. Usually, I’m the most optimistic person I know, so I felt a little bewildered when I suddenly felt so gloomy. Whatever funk I was in didn’t last very long, since the minute Thursday came and the sun came out, I was my normal happy go-lucky self.
Also, I came across a quote that helped me put things in perspective. It’s from Primo Levi’s book Survival in Auschwitz, which I haven’t actually read, but it was mentioned in another book I’m working on. “It is lucky that it is not windy today,” Levi writes. “Strange, how in some way, one always has the impression of being fortunate, how some chance happening, perhaps infinitesimal, stops us crossing the threshold of despair and allows us to live”. It just reminds me that there is always something to be happy about, no matter how small.
So, in order to lift my spirits, I made a list of things I’m grateful for and things to be happy about. Here it is!
- Grass that is soft and not itchy.
- Exchanging letters
- The company of good friends
- Not being raised in a polygamist cult
- Towels that are fresh out of the dryer
- Singing along
- The Big Dipper on clear nights
- Random acts of kindness
- Unexpected phone calls from the people I miss dearly
- Supportive parents
- Books of every kind!
- Spring and everything about it
- Baby animals
- Chocolate
- Strange blessings
Thursday, February 26, 2009
This I believe
Today was a wonderful, low key day. As I write this, I'm sitting in my room perusing books and watching Troy because I don't have any homework (gasp!). My roommate and I went running this afternoon, and then my friend John and I went to visit a local coffee shop I frequent. We finished up the day with some nice, relaxing yoga!
I was inspired to write this today after reading selections from a book called This I Believe II: More Personal Philosophies of Remarkable Men and Women. It is based on an international project that encourages people to discuss the core values that guide their daily lives. There are statements from tons of people, from Tony Hawk to Yo-Yo Ma. I figured I'd try my hand at writing my own, and this is what I came up with.
The Power to Choose
I believe that I create my own world. It is the reasoning behind one of my two tattoos—I believe that in anything I do, I have the free will to make a choice. This is not to say that I do not believe in some higher power or feel that I am all powerful. It is to say that I believe in willpower and in making choices that show respect for whatever Being that created me and the beings that actually created me and continue to nurture me (you know who you are!).
This means that I must take responsibility for all my choices, both good and bad. I have been given free will—the power to choose—and it is both wonderful and scary to know that anything I have created is created because I actively pursued it. At times, this power has brought me great joy. But, at many other times (and I am sure there will be many more throughout my life) I have wished that it was not in my power to choose or wished that I had not made certain choices.
When I left home two years ago, I choose to sever ties with the people I thought would hold me back. The thoughtlessness of this choice brought suffering to someone I claimed to love, and in my haste to make the best choice for myself, I failed to realize the implications of my selfishness. I choose to run from it—quite literally, 500 miles away—and I thought my choice was right. In fact, it was only the first choice in a litany of choices that to unhappiness. My choices left me lost, seeking peace in things that only brought upheaval. This is not to say that the past two years of my life have been only full of strife—the choice to leave did bring me here, and I feel that I have grown more than I ever expected by leaving.
It has taken time, but I have felt the sting of my choices, and I have had time to rectify them as best I could and learn from my mistakes. I am lucky in that the person I have wronged has chosen to forgive me. I am lucky that person has chosen to care about me despite my faults. When I talk with him, I am reminded of need to choose to forgive, and the amazing things that can stem from this choice.
I was inspired to write this today after reading selections from a book called This I Believe II: More Personal Philosophies of Remarkable Men and Women. It is based on an international project that encourages people to discuss the core values that guide their daily lives. There are statements from tons of people, from Tony Hawk to Yo-Yo Ma. I figured I'd try my hand at writing my own, and this is what I came up with.
The Power to Choose
I believe that I create my own world. It is the reasoning behind one of my two tattoos—I believe that in anything I do, I have the free will to make a choice. This is not to say that I do not believe in some higher power or feel that I am all powerful. It is to say that I believe in willpower and in making choices that show respect for whatever Being that created me and the beings that actually created me and continue to nurture me (you know who you are!).
This means that I must take responsibility for all my choices, both good and bad. I have been given free will—the power to choose—and it is both wonderful and scary to know that anything I have created is created because I actively pursued it. At times, this power has brought me great joy. But, at many other times (and I am sure there will be many more throughout my life) I have wished that it was not in my power to choose or wished that I had not made certain choices.
When I left home two years ago, I choose to sever ties with the people I thought would hold me back. The thoughtlessness of this choice brought suffering to someone I claimed to love, and in my haste to make the best choice for myself, I failed to realize the implications of my selfishness. I choose to run from it—quite literally, 500 miles away—and I thought my choice was right. In fact, it was only the first choice in a litany of choices that to unhappiness. My choices left me lost, seeking peace in things that only brought upheaval. This is not to say that the past two years of my life have been only full of strife—the choice to leave did bring me here, and I feel that I have grown more than I ever expected by leaving.
It has taken time, but I have felt the sting of my choices, and I have had time to rectify them as best I could and learn from my mistakes. I am lucky in that the person I have wronged has chosen to forgive me. I am lucky that person has chosen to care about me despite my faults. When I talk with him, I am reminded of need to choose to forgive, and the amazing things that can stem from this choice.
Now, the choices I make are not made only for me, but with others feelings in mind. They are made after careful thought and consideration of the consequences. I know that my choices are mine alone, but that does not mean I live unaffected by forces in the outside world. It does mean that I can choose how I react to these uncontrollable forces—I can choose to meet anger with peace and hate with love. I can choose to do things that empower and strengthen my inner self, rather than demean it. And I can hope that others live with the same mindfulness and make their choices as carefully as I now make mine.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
The first steps...
"If you trust in Nature, in the small Things that hardly anyone sees and that can so suddenly become huge, immeasurable; if you have this love for what is humble and try very simply, as someone who serves, to win the confidence of what seems poor: then everything will become easier for you, more coherent and somehow more reconciling, not in your conscious mind perhaps, which stays behind, astonished, but in your innermost awareness, awakeness, and knowledge...have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer." - Rainer Maria Rilke
I feel as if I am in a state of perpetual transformation. Sometimes I feel as if I'm a clear creek bed, and a child is squatting above me and stirring up all the silt and sand at the bottom, so it's impossible to see the bottom.
However, since I've started being aware of this turbulence and trying to appreciate it for what it is, I've been able to see more clearly. But this clarity and precision is almost more startling than the unknown. Whatever feeling has come over me, it's made me more able to cope with the things I can't control. I'm trying to live in the present, instead of vying for a future that has not yet happened and wishing for a past that can't ever be repeated. Yoga and meditation help keep me grounded, as well as learning to take things a day at a time.
Basically, all of this adds up to me trying to find myself. I've decided that if I want my journey to go smoothly, I need to make sure the vehicle in which I'm journeying is in tip-top shape. This means never smoking another cigarette (a habit I'm ashamed to have picked up and proud to have put down), engaging in physical activity (yoga, running, biking, walking), allowing myself time to relax and regenerate (that means cuddled up in my bed with a book), and channeling a positive attitude (meditation to calm me). So far, the journey is going well. I can't wait to see what's next!
I feel as if I am in a state of perpetual transformation. Sometimes I feel as if I'm a clear creek bed, and a child is squatting above me and stirring up all the silt and sand at the bottom, so it's impossible to see the bottom.
However, since I've started being aware of this turbulence and trying to appreciate it for what it is, I've been able to see more clearly. But this clarity and precision is almost more startling than the unknown. Whatever feeling has come over me, it's made me more able to cope with the things I can't control. I'm trying to live in the present, instead of vying for a future that has not yet happened and wishing for a past that can't ever be repeated. Yoga and meditation help keep me grounded, as well as learning to take things a day at a time.
Basically, all of this adds up to me trying to find myself. I've decided that if I want my journey to go smoothly, I need to make sure the vehicle in which I'm journeying is in tip-top shape. This means never smoking another cigarette (a habit I'm ashamed to have picked up and proud to have put down), engaging in physical activity (yoga, running, biking, walking), allowing myself time to relax and regenerate (that means cuddled up in my bed with a book), and channeling a positive attitude (meditation to calm me). So far, the journey is going well. I can't wait to see what's next!
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