The moon looked really beautiful tonight. Such a simple thing, to look up and see the moon in a clear sky on a quiet night. And yet, so many people do not get to enjoy such a simple pleasure.
We drove home from Louisville in the tail-end of Hurricane Ike. We saw an overturned semi (the driver, thankfully, seemed to be okay) and a trailer in the ditch (the truck pulling it seemed to be fine). The wind was incredible, and debris was flying everywhere... but we decided to push through in order to get home and ensure we were not trapped in the storm in a strange place with no sense of our surroundings.
I have been away from the news over the weekend and thus have only gotten small updates of how Galveston and Houston are faring. Gas was $4.49 when we got home, and it seemed many towns (including parts of our own) had power out.
Undoubtedly, not everyone was lucky in this latest storm. And so, the simplicity of a ballooned autumn moon will be overshadowed by much more pressing concerns, like food, shelter, and safety... or what to do in the aftermath of even greater tragedies.
Of course, you never know what might bring someone comfort or peace... and so maybe that big beautiful moon is smiling down on someone else far away... giving hope that tomorrow will be a better day.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Saturday, September 13, 2008
(this is not a dress rehearsal, you know)
I saw the matinee performance of 43 Plays For 43 Presidents today. It was a lovely production, and it was great to see all the great changes they made. I think we always wished we could mount it with a larger budget - allowing us to do more with it. So it was extremely gratifying to see it produced with such support and thoughtfulness... and so wonderful to get to meet everyone behind (and in) the show who so clearly have put their full energy into this production. Nice people with good hearts and great ideas.
One thing The Actors Theatre has been able to do that we had talked about but never were able to accomplish is to set aside several shows specifically for school-aged audiences - complete with materials designed to encourage study and discussion in the classroom before and after the show. It really is such a great piece of edu-tainment... it's so cool to see a theatre take that opportunity and run with it so thoroughly.
It was also very odd to come see it in the capacity of one of the playwrights. Someone said to me and Andy, "You're celebrities here." Which was so very, very, very odd. I don't feel like a celebrity. My life right now, and the path I'm currently on, is even so far away from theatre and the arts as to make this whole experience somewhat surreal (albeit wonderful).
And so I will finish this blog, having put the little one to bed, and then turn my attention to my homework - which is all about quantitative and qualitative research and the context of my current school counseling internship. Sometimes it's confusing to have so many hats that fit just fine. It makes deciding what to wear a little tricky. But I suppose that's not a bad conundrum to have.
One thing The Actors Theatre has been able to do that we had talked about but never were able to accomplish is to set aside several shows specifically for school-aged audiences - complete with materials designed to encourage study and discussion in the classroom before and after the show. It really is such a great piece of edu-tainment... it's so cool to see a theatre take that opportunity and run with it so thoroughly.
It was also very odd to come see it in the capacity of one of the playwrights. Someone said to me and Andy, "You're celebrities here." Which was so very, very, very odd. I don't feel like a celebrity. My life right now, and the path I'm currently on, is even so far away from theatre and the arts as to make this whole experience somewhat surreal (albeit wonderful).
And so I will finish this blog, having put the little one to bed, and then turn my attention to my homework - which is all about quantitative and qualitative research and the context of my current school counseling internship. Sometimes it's confusing to have so many hats that fit just fine. It makes deciding what to wear a little tricky. But I suppose that's not a bad conundrum to have.
Travel Whoops
We were traveling yesterday and I remember my blog at around 10:30 - just as I was drifting off to sleep. Ah well.
Gas spiked the morning of our departure, and I had heard it was limited to only southern Illinois, but has been higher in Indiana and Kentucky as well (though certainly not as high).
We caught the coverage of Hurricane Ike the night before last and were simply stunned by its size and the coverage it was receiving. Although it seemed from CNN's coverage the National Weather Service may have used a little too much exaggeration in stating "certain death," it also seems like it was necessary to evacuate everyone and to secure the area as much as possible. Waves 20 feet high are not something to mess with.
Of course, many Texans decided to stay, despite the warnings, and the total toll in terms of human and financial damage is yet to be known. I certainly hope people remained safe and that this storm does not further weaken our already troubled economy.
I know I've written about it before, but Andy and I both worry we are in for some dark times ahead... days of struggle and difficulty that may shake our nation's philosophies and require a new definition from a social and cultural perspective. If we do face such a rebirth, let's hope we emerge from the ashes stronger, wiser, and renewed in a way that will help generations beyond us prosper and evolve.
Gas spiked the morning of our departure, and I had heard it was limited to only southern Illinois, but has been higher in Indiana and Kentucky as well (though certainly not as high).
We caught the coverage of Hurricane Ike the night before last and were simply stunned by its size and the coverage it was receiving. Although it seemed from CNN's coverage the National Weather Service may have used a little too much exaggeration in stating "certain death," it also seems like it was necessary to evacuate everyone and to secure the area as much as possible. Waves 20 feet high are not something to mess with.
Of course, many Texans decided to stay, despite the warnings, and the total toll in terms of human and financial damage is yet to be known. I certainly hope people remained safe and that this storm does not further weaken our already troubled economy.
I know I've written about it before, but Andy and I both worry we are in for some dark times ahead... days of struggle and difficulty that may shake our nation's philosophies and require a new definition from a social and cultural perspective. If we do face such a rebirth, let's hope we emerge from the ashes stronger, wiser, and renewed in a way that will help generations beyond us prosper and evolve.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
In Honor of Today
Here is a section of a journal that was later incorporated into a play Rachel, Chloë, and I performed together in a few forms detailing our trip along Route 66. We left on September 11, 2001. This piece was based on an entry from September 13.
We have encountered many other people who are trying to go about their daily lives despite the aftermath of the bombings. People are quick to voice an opinion and often have very specific stories of where they were when it happened… and everyone seems stunned and somewhat unaware of the full extent of what is to come.
Now... the first time we read through this, Rachel noted that I used the word “bombings” to describe the attacks. Which I did… at that time in my journal, I was writing about them in that way. I think that some of that had to do with the fact that everyone else was using that word… that terminology.
I also think some of it is related to a conversation we had with a woman in Oklahoma City at a place called the Country Dove. We didn’t know that’s what it was called. We were looking for [motions to Rachel to supply the incorrect name we found in the guidebook] because it was supposed to have really good French Silk Pie, which is my all-time favorite.
So we found this little bookstore with a small restaurant attached that was filled with all sorts of Jesus paraphernalia (strange), and the woman there was talking about the bombings. The Oklahoma City bombings. And it was clear that the whole city felt as if they’d been through this before. She was talking about how the whole city felt like they could offer the citizens of New York help, advice, empathy… because they’d already been through it. They understood. I remember she sounded incredibly sad, but she didn’t cry.
We have encountered many other people who are trying to go about their daily lives despite the aftermath of the bombings. People are quick to voice an opinion and often have very specific stories of where they were when it happened… and everyone seems stunned and somewhat unaware of the full extent of what is to come.
Now... the first time we read through this, Rachel noted that I used the word “bombings” to describe the attacks. Which I did… at that time in my journal, I was writing about them in that way. I think that some of that had to do with the fact that everyone else was using that word… that terminology.
I also think some of it is related to a conversation we had with a woman in Oklahoma City at a place called the Country Dove. We didn’t know that’s what it was called. We were looking for [motions to Rachel to supply the incorrect name we found in the guidebook] because it was supposed to have really good French Silk Pie, which is my all-time favorite.
So we found this little bookstore with a small restaurant attached that was filled with all sorts of Jesus paraphernalia (strange), and the woman there was talking about the bombings. The Oklahoma City bombings. And it was clear that the whole city felt as if they’d been through this before. She was talking about how the whole city felt like they could offer the citizens of New York help, advice, empathy… because they’d already been through it. They understood. I remember she sounded incredibly sad, but she didn’t cry.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
A Potential Failing, An Articulated Fear
I have been thinking a lot about motivation lately - about what it is that urges us forward, helps us survive hardships, push past obstacles, and continue to reach toward our goals.
Not everyone has it. And what has been very confusing lately is how to approach working with people who are not feeling motivated. It's not as if you can manufacture motivation for someone else. It has to be genuine and connected to some internal locus of control.
Of course, there are lots of theories and ideas as to how motivation is fostered, what it's related to, etc. Attachment theory, nature vs. nurture, self-esteem and self-awareness, goal-setting techniques, resilience, coping strategies, etc.
Sometimes it all feels like shooting in the dark. Hoping to hit a target you can't see with tools you aren't entirely sure work each and every time... and praying for success.
Perhaps there are many jobs that feel this way. Standing against the tide of inertia and apathy that can often accompany the real-world experiences of oppression or forced invisibility for at-risk populations sometimes feels overwhelming. Like running a marathon each day and never reaching the finish line.
And there is beauty and honor in the pursuit, to be sure. And I have great appreciation for those who are capable of such journeys... but I'm not sure I have what it takes for a lifetime of such work.
Not everyone has it. And what has been very confusing lately is how to approach working with people who are not feeling motivated. It's not as if you can manufacture motivation for someone else. It has to be genuine and connected to some internal locus of control.
Of course, there are lots of theories and ideas as to how motivation is fostered, what it's related to, etc. Attachment theory, nature vs. nurture, self-esteem and self-awareness, goal-setting techniques, resilience, coping strategies, etc.
Sometimes it all feels like shooting in the dark. Hoping to hit a target you can't see with tools you aren't entirely sure work each and every time... and praying for success.
Perhaps there are many jobs that feel this way. Standing against the tide of inertia and apathy that can often accompany the real-world experiences of oppression or forced invisibility for at-risk populations sometimes feels overwhelming. Like running a marathon each day and never reaching the finish line.
And there is beauty and honor in the pursuit, to be sure. And I have great appreciation for those who are capable of such journeys... but I'm not sure I have what it takes for a lifetime of such work.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Story for a Special Day
My husband has a startlingly accurate memory for details that connect to our history together. He remembers what I was wearing the night of our first kiss... the date of our first date... what he said to me the first time we met.
I am not so good at such details. I remember our first kiss, but I could not tell you what I had on or what he had on; I don't remember what I was wearing when he proposed or where he was sitting the first time I met him or the date of our first official outing together as a couple rather than friends.
I think this sometimes makes him sad, and I wish I had the gift for recollection that he has in this particular realm. It's ironic, because he is forgetful at times in other areas in which I excel - but in this regard he is far and away more able and accomplished.
But I do have several memories - snapshots, really - that stand out and comprise my picture of our history together:
Riding home in the car after a attending the corn fest in DeKalb, feeling relieved and amazed that he had a good time and was not making fun of me for suggesting we go. It was my first sense that we would do well on road trips and traveling together, and I felt encouraged that he might be able to tolerate my penchant for hokey/kitschy things.
Sitting across from one another outside at a cafe table in Italy, watching the sleepy life of our adopted town of Praiano float past... listening to the sounds of life in the piazza and watching the ocean kiss the rocks below our hotel. I felt so at peace and so lucky to be sharing such a beautiful night with my best friend. I wished we could stay like that into old age, sitting side by side and watching the simplicity of an ordinary day.
Sleeping fitfully in the hospital the very first night Ari was with us... Andy cramped in a fold-out chair impossible for sleep and doing everything he could to help Ari get comfortable, help me stay still, make sure we were both okay, all the while ignoring the hours slipping past before he had to return to work - the last place he wanted to be.
Watching him play with Ari, unaware of my presence, his whole heart and energy focused on his little girl. He reaches to the very depths of his creativity for her, and unflinchingly offers her favorite gags, stories, voices, characters, and bits over and over and over again - until one wonders if he might suddenly explode or collapse. He is filled with such love and generosity in those moments, and the childlike joy of his heart shines through.
There are many more from points before and after, from multiple times along the spectrum of our friendship, courtship, marrying, and marriage. And I very much look forward to the ones yet to come.
I am not so good at such details. I remember our first kiss, but I could not tell you what I had on or what he had on; I don't remember what I was wearing when he proposed or where he was sitting the first time I met him or the date of our first official outing together as a couple rather than friends.
I think this sometimes makes him sad, and I wish I had the gift for recollection that he has in this particular realm. It's ironic, because he is forgetful at times in other areas in which I excel - but in this regard he is far and away more able and accomplished.
But I do have several memories - snapshots, really - that stand out and comprise my picture of our history together:
Riding home in the car after a attending the corn fest in DeKalb, feeling relieved and amazed that he had a good time and was not making fun of me for suggesting we go. It was my first sense that we would do well on road trips and traveling together, and I felt encouraged that he might be able to tolerate my penchant for hokey/kitschy things.
Sitting across from one another outside at a cafe table in Italy, watching the sleepy life of our adopted town of Praiano float past... listening to the sounds of life in the piazza and watching the ocean kiss the rocks below our hotel. I felt so at peace and so lucky to be sharing such a beautiful night with my best friend. I wished we could stay like that into old age, sitting side by side and watching the simplicity of an ordinary day.
Sleeping fitfully in the hospital the very first night Ari was with us... Andy cramped in a fold-out chair impossible for sleep and doing everything he could to help Ari get comfortable, help me stay still, make sure we were both okay, all the while ignoring the hours slipping past before he had to return to work - the last place he wanted to be.
Watching him play with Ari, unaware of my presence, his whole heart and energy focused on his little girl. He reaches to the very depths of his creativity for her, and unflinchingly offers her favorite gags, stories, voices, characters, and bits over and over and over again - until one wonders if he might suddenly explode or collapse. He is filled with such love and generosity in those moments, and the childlike joy of his heart shines through.
There are many more from points before and after, from multiple times along the spectrum of our friendship, courtship, marrying, and marriage. And I very much look forward to the ones yet to come.
Monday, September 8, 2008
The Little Magician
You put a spell on me
my little bunny bean
erasing a bad day
with a screeching welcome
and huge smile
arms wide and
legs running
to land - thump! -
against my legs
with gleeful, huggy
hellos.
Amazing that in one
small moment
you can freeze time
and snap me back
to present tense
no longer worrying
about "but" or "if" -
at least for a few
shining moments
of blissful, kissy
reunion.
Little magic
elf bunny...
my special,
sunny girl.
my little bunny bean
erasing a bad day
with a screeching welcome
and huge smile
arms wide and
legs running
to land - thump! -
against my legs
with gleeful, huggy
hellos.
Amazing that in one
small moment
you can freeze time
and snap me back
to present tense
no longer worrying
about "but" or "if" -
at least for a few
shining moments
of blissful, kissy
reunion.
Little magic
elf bunny...
my special,
sunny girl.
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