Sunday, August 30, 2009

Dimanche

Sundays can be hard days for me. The rest of the week looms ahead, I ponder my to-do list, clean my room, and now, being a student, attempt to get part of my reading done. I like to spend time in the park if the sun is shining, but usually it's not. Talk to my family and friends on the phone, go to a leisurely brunch after church.
My morning is jam-packed with church and middle school youth group. So, when 2:30 hits, I'm down for the count. I usually need a nap or caffeine to make it through the rest of the day, or what productivity is left of it.
I want the day to be restful, Sabbath-like, but I'm the kind of person who is challenged when I have little to do. I'll fill my Saturdays full and then crash on Sundays. I want to take a nap right now, but I feel overwhelmed by all that's going on in my head...like I was going to be artistic and paint right now, I should clean the kitchen and be a responsible roommate, I should clear off my desk and get organized.
As I was having trouble falling asleep last night, one of the notecards I posted to my door caught my eye:

Artists can be SOBER, SANE, SOLVENT, RESPONSIBLE, USER-FRIENDLY, FAITHFUL, SAVED, HAPPY, DISCOVERED, (and most importantly) RECOVERED*

For some reason, I want to go above and beyond to prove these things to other people. I will let them cross boundaries, feign a good mood, and act as a loyal friend. I'm to the point where feelings can distinguish themselves from logic: I know that I am the way that I am, I'm beginning to be okay with that, I should accept things about myself that I cannot change. I usually think that I'm more of a mess that maybe I am, that I need to cover that up, that people won't like me if I'm vulnerable or honest, telling them as I feel.
Maybe it has to do with sensitivity. I'm easily offended: people can't tell me how they feel, therefore I feel like I can't reciprocate. Here's to starting out this new season of my life implementing things that I've learned about myself in the past two years (since today is my two year anniversary of moving to San Francisco)! I've struggled to establish myself here and somehow I've done it. As my parents said, "Meg, if you've done this, you've made it here!, you can do anything." It's up for me to believe and now live that out.



*Taken from The Artist's Way, by Julie Cameron

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

SSR, Sustained Silent Reading

I went back to school for my teaching credential; now I have homework.
I went to French-American today; soon I will start work again.
If I'm going to work and go to school, my Tuesdays and Thursdays are going to be marathons and I won't get home until 8:30 PM, not having eaten dinner.
My phone stopped working, so I had to get a new one.
The first graders are now second graders, so I will have all new kids.
Miss Sabow went on maternity leave, so now I will be working with a new teacher from Australia.
I don't know how well she responded to the corner of the class called Australia, where kids that are having a "Terrible, no good, very bad day" go. Dante would have had a hard time last year if it weren't for Australia first thing in the morning.
They are renovating the upstairs apartment and it's hard to sleep in, nap, or concentrate whatsoever during the day... why I'm on my way to Mojo to complete my reading, my first homework assignment post-college. It should be a reward, all of this reading, like it was in elementary school.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Jeux d'enfants

Last week, I realized that I don't want to be a full-time nanny. Nor am I ready to become a parent and dress, feed, occupy children all day/everyday. It's different being with them as their friend after being their teacher; they like to think that the boundaries don't exist any more.
I also remembered how much I liked pearler-beading, painting-by-number, pet stuffed animals, and spontaneous dance routines. How I liked going to the movie theater on a summer afternoon to see the latest Disney classic (Ponyo didn't compare to the Little Mermaid in my opinion!)
I'm not exhausted from babysitting the way that I am from teaching. Maybe it's because I'm on my feet less, maybe because I have more freedom. It's about building relationships while teaching; babysitting seems like more of an exchange of goods, a temp-to-hire basis.
All this to say, I'm looking forward to the new school year. The scent of freshly sharpened pencils in the foggy San Francisco air. Starting a program where yes, I will one day become a teacher. Why? Is this really what I want to do for the rest of my life? I'm not sure why, but I know for right now, I've made the right decision.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Negative to neutral

It's all about relinquishing control. Filling out the federal loan papers and starting classes next Tuesday. Letting kids be kids because they should be able to, not because you want them to be a certain way. Realizing that conflict can bring growth, new relationships can give hope, and that my life isn't full of as many stresses as I make it out to have. As Lunden put it, "Meg, why do you need to go to yoga? You are Meg, what can you possibly be stressed out about?"
That's so true, all of my basic needs are met, but I find ways everyday to find unmet expectations and disappointment in even the most positive of circumstance. How do you accept when people tell you that you blessed them through encouragement? Or that not everyone is getting along and it doesn't have to do with me? Seeing the movie "Extract," although humorous, almost makes me shudder to see what we can do when one thing can spin out of control in our lives and impact everyone around us.
I'm all about the negative, I want to be all about the neutral, en route to the positive.

Monday, August 17, 2009

Vacillating

I vacillate, meaning I love extremes. I like to relax and sleep 12 hours a night and stay in my apartment on a cold, San Francisco foggy day, or I like to nanny for 9 hours, probe my heart further, plan dinner for 12, and arrive home 15 hours later.
I don't know where the gray is in this picture: how I can compromise and have a life of intensity and one of taking time for myself while still serving others. My head is pounding from the moments of today: fleeting gems of community, searching for a kite that catapulted down a mountain, playing red light/green light in French, talking to my friend Matt on the phone who I hadn't talked to in 2 months. Having my friends tell me that they are blessed from me, the Africans that they miss my happiness.
I don't want the inner reserves to run dry, for me to search for where the happiness went after I've given it all away. I don't want to try and make people like me that aren't good for me. I want to firmly set boundaries, but still allow myself grace to fail and make mistakes. Life isn't a series of "shoulds," rather a series of choosing how I will feel when things happen. I can be sad, I can be mad, I can be upset. Showing my emotion is letting people know how I feel, which is something I don't like to let on. Maybe it comes from the Washington and Lee speaking tradition that became engrained in my head after four years spent pretending that everything was going just fine!, when passing a fellow student on the colonnade.
It's the reason that sometimes I laugh when I should be sad, when the tears come unpredictably and at the most inconvenient of times.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Another year here

I've been thinking that I've been here, in San Francisco, for almost 2 years. That today, when Maggie woke up on her birthday, that it was the second time we had celebrated together with her in our apartment. I feel like my life keeps racing by around me and I'm trying to catch up, keep up. I'm going back to school in two weeks and I'm paring things down, simplifying, delegating.
I don't want to lose track of what's going on around me, but I also want to be confident in my decision to be focused and appreciate further education. I don't want to lose the ideas that I learned while in Africa, I want to be able to keep painting, searching, creating.
I want to appreciate where I've come from and where I've been. I look at pictures from the past two years and I see young, naive people, full of life and energy. I'm older and wiser, more mature, a quarter-century old. I take care of kids. I go to Uganda. I knit. I read. I like dollar stores. I collect things I think I might use later. I have an incredible community that keeps me sane and accountable. I'm an extroverted and sensory person.
These are things I can't change, they are unique to me. I found in a book that my mom gave me last night a Dove candy wrapper that said, "Remind yourself that it's okay not to be perfect." Coincidence? I don't think so.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Lolla

I'm glad that I went to Lollapalooza. It's something that I checked off my list and can say that I did. And I saw some amazing performers- Bon Iver, Fleet Foxes, Santigold (who I like to call Goldi-santa) and witnessed where this American Life used to take place at Public Radio International. I got to eat a homemade marshmallow at a hip restaurant, I felt connected to friends from college, and I saw the new modern wing and a Cy Twombly exhibit at the Institute of Art.
I also realized that I love San Francisco and my community here. Not that I didn't before, just being in another city creates distance and makes me realize what I have.
I have relationships, I've started painting, I've cleaned out my room. This summer, I might not have accomplished everything that I wanted to, but I came pretty close. Thanks to my voyage across the globe, I have a new perspective on life. I've seen my family, went to another music festival. I don't know if I'm ready to start school in two weeks, ready for the rigors of academia and the challenges of the classroom. I ate amazing heirloom tomatoes, saw the sun for a few days, shared my experiences and listened to those of my friends'.
I've held a mirror up to my face and seen my mperfections. I am more confident now than I was in June, thanks to God's grace. I still get anxious, I still am extraverted, I still exude energy. Somehow, God has worked through me.