japan, part II

I never finished Japan, so here you go.

The A-Bomb Dome in Hiroshima.

Radiation Effects Research Center (formerly Atomic Bomb Casualty Commission)

Four hibakusha (被爆者 or bomb-affected persons) we met with - the woman with them is a hibakusha as well, and one of the youngest survivors (6 mos. old). She travelled with us.

My pitiful attempt at a paper crane.

The "floating" torii at the Itsukushima Shrine near Hiroshima - it's one of the Three Views of Japan, which were determined in 1643, and that kind of blows my mind.

Floating lanterns at the Hiroshima lantern ceremony. In honor of those who died, especially those who died crying mizu or "water" - messages of peace are written on the sides and they're sent down the rivers.

Nagasaki memorial. I think it's really peaceful (and it feels like you're underwater)

One of the most lovely nights, we spent in a restaurant as the only people speaking English, eating delicious yakitori.

These are strands of paper cranes - gifts of 1000 are given at these memorial ceremonies in memory of Sadako Sasaki, a young girl who contracted leukemia after Hiroshima, and started to fold 1000 paper cranes (which traditionally gives you a wish). Stories differ, but the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum says she finished, and has some of her cranes there. She died in 1955, aged 12.

Sushi.

It's hard to express the highs and lows, and how close we got to our peace families. Here, we're on top of a mountain in Nagasaki overlooking the harbor, on almost our last night.

I was interviewed by NHK, a TV station in Japan, about my experience at the Nagasaki ceremony.

We returned to Tokyo, and the electronic city was closed.

I have so many more photos, but this will have to do for now.

compassion

I have decided on my spiritual mission for this trip. My Grampa used to pick those for trips he went on, and I've gotten out of the habit, but it is not something I should have gotten out of the habit of doing. This trip, it is:

Christ-like compassion

I like it, and it came to me the second I was thinking "I need a spiritual mission," so that seems to me good enough proof from Above. Quite astute, because Merriam-Webster defines it as: "sympathetic consciousness of others' distress together with a desire to alleviate it" and that's really true.

365 - night

Tonight, we watched interviews of survivors of the atomic bomb blasts at Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

"ever forward"

Today, we did not realize, was Bid Day at American.  For those uninitiated into sorority culture, it comes after Rush, which is when prospective girls and sororities attend a massive amount of get-togethers in the attempt to find a good match with each other.  

Bid Day is a Big Deal.  It is when you find out which sorority picked you -- there is a complicated mutual matching process, but that is a post for another day -- and at a pre-arranged place, all the sisters gather and welcome you into the sorority.  There is, to be expected, a lot of screaming involved.  It was this particular screaming that caught our attention in the middle of "Colloquium: History of the United States 1865 - Present" because it was all around us and quite honestly, came out of nowhere.

It's a big class, and a significant chunk of them are girls, and I was the only sorority member there.  I realize that there is a nerd factor with History MAs that does not usually correspond on the Venn Diagram of Life with sorority membership, but it's not unheard of.   Still, everyone was rolling their eyes at "those sorority girls" and while I realize that's a typical response, I wasn't sure how to explain.  Of course, I mentioned that I was the only one there (laughing) but I couldn't really explain Bid Day. 

My Bid Day was fabulous.  There were only 4 of us, because we were the smallest sorority, and other groups had new member ("pledge" having all those connotations, it's no longer used) classes of 20-25, but we were 4.  We had to run the length of the soccer field, because that's where the Sigma girls were, but it was exhilarating, running all the way, and running right into screaming, hugging, happy girls who were so thrilled to have us.  Of course, I knew most of the girls at this point (and lived with some of them) but nonetheless it was wonderful.  

The next year, I helped at Rush and again, they had a low number of girls.  This was particularly painful, because we had worked so hard and met some wonderful girls.  But that's how the chips fall.  Everyone was depressed, and showed it on the field, before our new girls came out to meet us.   I realized then: Wow, they must have been sad last year too -- but I had no idea.  I had no idea that to get a class of 4 is a hard blow to the sorority, and painful doubly so because of all the other classes around you at that exact moment.  I just felt loved and so close to all my friends.

I was determined to not let the new girls feel this way.  We chanted and cheered until we couldn't scream anymore, because I wanted them to have the same experience that I did.  That welcoming sense, that love, that embracing (literally) that I remember as such a happy night.

So maybe I can convey what Bid Night means to me... but it's tricky.   

I can't explain that these bonds are deep, and the happiness I get when I think of the mini-sisterhood nights that I had with two of my closest friends, Jen and Hannah, while we watched Battlestar Galactica together.  It lives on, in our frantic emails back and forth between the three of us, trying to solve who the final Cylon was, and I love it.

Oh, and of course I texted cousin Jacqui, a Chi Omega here at American -- she sent back: "haha sorry we're so obnoxious."   Honestly, though?  It just made me happy.

inauguration

So this past Tuesday was Inauguration.  I debated going out of town, but eventually got convinced (it wasn't too hard) into staying.  In retrospect: how could I not?  I just had to bear the crowds, the cold, the standing.  It was absolutely worth it. 

It began with a slumber party at our friends' house, where we painted our nails red, white and blue and then woke up early.  We ended up taking a bus quite far down (National Cathedral to Farragut Square) and it wasn't crowded -- which we credited to the hour and the fact that MetroBus is kind of intimidating to tourists.  But not to us! 

So we made it, and made it in and out of Starbucks rather quickly as well.  Yes, we can!  Leah and Olivia are clearly excited:

Here I am on the Mall, apparently holding up the Reflecting Pool:

Once we got on the Mall, it was too cold to take off my gloves... (19°) so I texted with my nose! 

The View: Actually quite good, because a lot of people couldn't see the Capitol. :) 

This photo is me freaking out, as Obama is supposed to be sworn in at noon (it ended up being 12:05).  Only me.

The actual swearing-in...

Can you see how many people there are?  Also they stretched from building to building on the Mall.  It was... unreal.

This is Leah and me, excited after the actual swearing-in! 

...and finally:

We sat next to this sign the entire time, and this -- right after the swearing-in -- seemed just so perfect.  All in all, I'm not sure I can really find words to describe this.  It was such a happy crowd, and everyone cheering during the speech -- I cried! -- and the sweet melody of "Simple Gifts," which I associate with American ingenuity and a new birth -- a new birth of freedom, Lincoln would say.  Leah and I smiled during the speech, nudging each other when we sensed a Lincolnian turn of phrase (there were a few) or (in my case) when Gettysburg was mentioned.

I thought the speech was lovely.  I know some have said it was making jabs at the Bush administration, but I don't think that was the point.  At this point, it is about unity, about reclaiming our proud heritage and status as world leader -- not enforcer, but leader towards democracy and all those ideals that we espouse.  I thought it was more a call to service -- a call to abandon the failing ways, admit that some are no longer functioning, and use that intellect to forge a new path forward.  

I think unity is the key word here.  People booed when President Bush was on the screen, which I thought was in poor taste, both in regard to respect for the office, and the calls for unity.  Obama spoke firmly about "unity of purpose over conflict and discord," and I believe that speaks to the heart of the issue.  We need to move forward, united as a common people, embracing what I believe is our birthright of freedom and hope and change.  Hope and change are not just qualities that symbolize Obama, but rather what we know we're capable of.  Josh put it rightly that all candidates run on the platform of change, and this is no different.  The change, however, is not just in government, but in ourselves, and it's that change that we need to embrace. 

There is so much to this speech that I loved, including the winter metaphors, but particularly: 

Our challenges may be new. The instruments with which we meet them may be new. But those values upon which our success depends -- hard work and honesty, courage and fair play, tolerance and curiosity, loyalty and patriotism -- these things are old. These things are true. They have been the quiet force of progress throughout our history. What is demanded then is a return to these truths. What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility -- a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation and the world; duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character, than giving our all to a difficult task.

I'm so happy I was there. 

...of course, more photos.

oh, what a day

So today was -- as we have heard so often -- a watershed day.  I began it at 5:20 am, woken up by Josh, who shouted something about my civic duty.  After a shower and throwing on clothes that look relatively nice, we headed out the door, as polls here in Virginia open at 6am.  

6:05 am we walked up to our polling place, and there was already a parking lot full of cars, and a line out the door.  Yikes!

You may notice that, from this view, you can see the lines of alphabetical nature that we are standing in the A-G line.  You may also notice that my name begins with an H.   Josh noticed from the beginning, and only told me 10 minutes later.  Fortunately, there was no one really in line, so I was able to switch without much incident.

Inside were more lines:

But that's ok!  It's democracy in action!  Also, we only waited in line for an hour.   Here is my view looking back into the gym, waiting for Josh:

All around a success!  After work & class, we headed out to watch the returns.

It was fantastic.   There was so much energy with everyone so excited, and it was great to go somewhere where everyone was all together, this community of believers, if you will, all joined in rapture, watching the screens.   Perhaps especially meaningful because this is the first campaign I feel that I have been invested in from the primaries on.  

I know that that is what you're supposed to do, but I was a bit lukewarm in 00 and [Just kidding, I turned 18 in 2001! -Ed.] 04 and waited until the end to really make a decision, while this election I followed it pretty darn closely from early on.  I had a vested interest, and it was -- although exhausting -- incredibly satisfying.   I feel that I did my civic duty, and stood up and showed that people do care.  Young people care.  They vote!  I voted!

I'm just so very pleased.  I loved Obama's speech (and McCain's as well, actually) and I love that the main idea is action and change.   Not to mention hope.  I hope people still cling to these issues tomorrow, and know that they can be involved and change things.  

I have hope.

one year ago.

How strange it is to realize that today is my one-year anniversary of leaving my last job. It's strange and surreal, and today was rainy and strange anyway, so I suppose it added to it. I can't believe another year -- this time, my 24th -- has passed by, and how much it has been a time in the wilderness and purification by fire.

I started blogging.

I went to Twelfth Night.

I learned how to sew.

I learned how to live on my own.

I learned to be alone.

I learned to love Battlestar Galactica.

I was home for the holidays.

I got a new temporary job.

I went hiking.

I conquered hikes that had conquered me.

I went to the Family Reunion.

I saw old friends.

I ate lots of BBQ.

I line danced, and swung danced.

I travelled.

I biked.

I went to a beach.

I drove a convertible.

I lived alone for 2 weeks.

I went to Class.

I applied to grad school.

I got into grad school.

I read gothic fiction.

I fell in love with DC.

I met new friends.

I moved.

I read.

I cried.

I prayed.

I hoped.

I dreamt.

I learned.

Maybe this doesn't seem like much, but this year has been literally life-changing. It has meant the world to me, and has changed me so much that I'm not sure I recognize myself from a year ago. I've grown so much, in my way of looking at the world, and particularly my faith -- that "ever present help in trouble." It's hard to describe. I thought, in fact, that I would post an eloquent discussion of my changes, but I don't know if it's the place for that. I rather like how it's turned out.

Well, early in the morning, 'bout the break of day

I ask the Lord, "Help me find the way!"

Help me find the way to the promised land--

This lonely body needs a helping hand

I ask the Lord to help me please find the way.

the house on top of the hill

Today was my first day of orientation -- I am volunteering for school -- at Arlington House, the home of Robert E. Lee.  It is, as you would expect, in the middle of Arlington National Cemetery -- at the top of the hill, in fact.   I'd never been to Arlington before (house or cemetery) so it was an experience.  I hiked all the way to the top (well, stairs) and it was a sobering experience -- of course the path winds through the different sections of graves, and you can't help but read them as you go along.  Titles... names... wars... they all begin to blend together, and in a sobering way.  

The view from the top is utterly indescribable -- a view across the Potomac, and able to see most of the monuments as well as most of downtown.  As today was a clear day, you could see everything.  That being said, this view through faux marble/sandstone pillars also includes the Kennedy eternal flame, and a flag that is almost perennially at half mast -- or at least whenever burials are happening, which, as you can imagine, is quite a bit.  It checks you.   I'm not sure why.  I'm not sure if it had anything to do with the fact that it has taken me 2 1/2 years to make it to Arlington.   The fact that, even though I was there, I still could not bring myself to find graves of astronauts that I admired.   

I loved the house.  Everyone there is wonderful, and they gave me a behind-the-scenes tour, but I walk out and there is the cemetery.  I suppose it just makes you think, but the real point is I left thinking.  Quiet.  Thinking... and that's I think the most coherent I'll ever be about this, so with that: Fin.

don't panic

I must admit, I have been remiss in posting -- especially considering I have so many photos from our voyages through Utah, but time has gotten away from me.  Also, I just realized I haven't discussed Chelsea -- all in good time. 

But now is just something simple.   It's turning out to be an interesting time of year -- for the most part, because I am headed back to school, but have yet to fully realize it.  Of course, filling out loan paperwork and realizing you haven't yet bought books (but have bought new pens and notebooks!) does bring it into sharper focus, but for the most part, I remain unaware. 

Today's mail brought a difficulty -- a miscommunication, that I will resolve tomorrow, but a scary miscommunication nonetheless.  Money related (the scariest kind of miscommunication).  I won't get into it, but suffice to say that it was unsettling.   I'm alone in the house now, as all three of my housemates are in the Outer Banks (not all together), and so I walked over to the couch and sat down, and started to pray. 

I looked up, and in the middle of the coffee table, was this: 

Wow.   I think it's rather neat when messages come in unexpected ways -- though I've never had it come via mug. 

growing strong

"Blessed is the man that trusteth in the Lord, and whose hope the Lord is.  For he shall be as a tree planted by the waters, and that spreadeth out her roots by the river, and shall not see when heat cometh, but her leaf shall be gree; and shall not be careful in the year of drought, neither shall cease from yielding fruit." 

--Jeremiah 17:7-8

Wow.   More of my thoughts on this later, but let's just say it's rather comforting.

snakes & characters

Well.  Today is the first day that I've actually been coherent enough to blog.   But what a day!   We met up and headed to the Nature Lab at RISD, where I'd been (briefly) before, but this time, we met up with Kate & Andrew, who work there, and were able to give us a full tour.  

We met Netop (above), an amelanistic (sherbet colored!) corn snake, who, for the first time in my life, made me want to own a snake.  We bonded. 

But first: the show last night.  This was Claire's final show for Illustration at the Rhode Island School of Design [ risd ] and I was absolutely thrilled I got to pop up to Rhode Island to see!  

It consisted of 7 total artists, and while I knew a few and was familiar with their work, I was still blown away at their newest projects, or even looking at the art I'd seen a second time.  It was just so perfect.   The works all had these unintentional parallels, which were neat to follow, and it was great to be in that environment where everyone was so excited about the art. 

(I haven't posted lots of pictures of the art, because their websites do a much better job!  See bottom of the post!)

It makes me contemplative, and thinking back to my own senior year, when I had things pretty much nailed down in March.  I knew what I was going to do, and in retrospect, I worry I picked that too quickly.  But it's done nothing but benefit me, so I should be grateful for that path.  

Dad and I were talking to Claire's professor, Shanth -- who, incidentally, is amazing & we've sat in on classes that I still think about -- and he was talking about what he tells graduating seniors about where they should go.  The idea coincided with Dad's idea of "go where it's scary," with this thought of "go where you can grow."  I really liked that.  I like that idea of going to a place that you're still terrified of, but knowing that you'll find your feet, and the only way is up.   It's a good thing to keep in mind, especially with that on my horizon again. 

But back to RISD! 

The Nature Lab was great.  Kate fed chameleons, I hung out with a snake, we met turtles, saw doves, and ogled an albino Madagascar hissing cockroach.  Also, there is metric tons of taxidermy there, and it's just a great space.  Very Victorian Natural History Museum-y. 

How beautiful is that?  

Beetle Love Tank.  My favorite part.  

More of me and Netop.

And finally, we went to one of Claire's classes on Character Design.  We love the professor -- see above: Shanth -- and just sat and watched.  It made me miss college (and relish that I'm going back!) and my mind is boggled by the fact of just so much creativity there.  

Claire made this orca for her protagonist, and her sketches later of it are quite possibly the most adorable thing ever.  

For more pictures of the show, see my flickr album or Mom's post about it.

Also links to assorted artwork:  

• Claire [ shoomlah.com ] 
  
• Kate Walsh [ oliveselkie.com ]  
  
• Beth Zaiken [ bethzaiken.com ]
  

figuring out the path

All things work together for good to them that love God, to them that are the called according to his holy purpose. -Romans 8:28

Oddly enough, it's all falling together now.  I had a revelation in the shower the other day, which was quite profound, and I won't get into the entirety of it, but the main point was: Maybe this time was just to prepare you.

Wow.  This came like a thunderbolt at a time (in the shower, actually) when I was worried about money, funds, job, relationships -- in a word: everything.   This thought came to me -- one of calm, and the idea that my supply would be met, and that all of this time was not a waste: it was preparation for things to come. 

A few people have commented that they see the change in me, and I see the change in myself.  I'm not sure if I could actually put a name to it, but I know, in the deepest part of me, I have changed.  My faith has grown stronger, my spiritual sense more clear, and my trust in God more implicit.  

I have a job interview tomorrow.  I'm not nervous.  I might not get it, but for once I'm not worried.  In the past few days -- few hours! -- this demonstration of my path has unfolded so clearly before me that I know that if this is not the right step, the next one will appear.   I have heard the voice behind me saying "this is the way, walk ye in it." (Isaiah 30:21) and my path is clear.  

Who knows what my next step will be - and after this time in the wilderness, I do not presume to know what it will be! - but I am sure it will be exactly what I need, at exactly the right time. 

p.s. mom took this photo at the japanese gardens in s.f.  I love it.

anniversaries

Today, April 26th, is the two-year anniversary of my grandpa's death.  It's strange.  To be honest, I had forgotten.  I have little to no recollection for this particular date, only that I recall that it was mid-April (ish), but I thought it was earlier.   

I remember exactly where I was when I found out (Gettysburg College, senior parking lot, driver's seat) and events afterwards, but I have literally no memory connected with those events happening on any day in particular.   How very strange, but not altogether unsurprising.  

My aunt sent out an email a few weeks ago letting us know of the upcoming anniversary (which, incidentally, was how I found out when it was) and a suggestion that we use the day to spend it thinking of Grampa and do something that reminded us of him. 

Well, I forgot that it was today.  I forgot, that is, until I started to get emails in my inbox from various & sundry relations, forgot again, and remembered as I am heading to bed, as the day is turning into the next.  

I'm not sure yet what I will do.  Right now, I'm listening to a recording of Clair de Lune, which has certain points in the melody that bring out such quick, sharp memories that it surprises me.

I finally finished Atlas Shrugged.  I've had it for 6 years.  He bought it for me (of course).  I finally re-started reading it a few weeks ago, and could barely put it down.

I return again to the Edith Wharton quote that I read during the memorial service, and perhaps it's something good to meditate on:

"...one can remain alive long past the usual date of disintegration if one is unafraid of change, insatiable in intellectual curiosity, interested in big things, and happy in small ways."  

I stick by that being a consummate description of Gramps.  

I suppose the real point is, at least for me, Gramps was such a key figure in my life that I can't help but think of him.  

Little things: pianos, skiing, hawai'i, green grapes, the waldorf=astoria (not so little), Lincoln...  It surrounds me.  Even my cherry-blossom print, which has not yet found a home on my wall.  

Those are my every-day memories, the things that make me smile.  It's the things I don't expect, that crop up in unexpected ways, that are how I cherish his memory. 

Another year will pass soon, and I will most likely forget the date again.  That doesn't matter.  What matters is the love, the happy memories -- I was just reminded of Kemp's Koffee Korner and those marine-layer mornings! -- and lessons learnt.  Be a leader!

pilgrimage to the monuments

The Lincoln monument is by far my favorite.  I say this without question - every time I visit (and recently, that has been a lot), I walk in, admire the statue, then head to the sides and read the Gettysburg Address and the Second Inaugural.   In addition to making me realize that I will never write that well in my entire life -- or sum up a nation's feelings (while "binding up its wounds") about a war that had spent the last four years tearing it apart.

Of course, there are other parts that strike me, but the end is particularly stirring.

...let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations.

My own dear friend who has "borne the battle" -- or, rather: bearing -- and I spoke a few nights ago.  I was surprised -- a blip, and a message from across the world.  It was sweet to talk to him, though there is nothing that makes your heart ache so much as knowing they have to go.  I worry.  Perhaps I shouldn't -- I should pray, but I haven't yet.   Instead, I end up finding my way to the World War II monument.

It makes me contemplative.

I think of the plans that were hatched to move with all of our friends to Spain and own a restaurant there, and it is my one exception to my rule that I will never be a server (due to me being inherently klutzy, incidentally).  Somehow Spain will give me the grace I need to balance tapas plates and I will learn Spanish and this idea was proposed to me 2 years ago, and I still cannot wait for it.  It's not set in stone, but it's something to look forward to.

In the meantime, I make my pilgrimages.  I stop at the paratrooper bronze, and remember our day at the Getty, all sunshine and ocean breezes.   

nothin' but the rain

can't you see that it's just rainin'

ain't no need to go outside

It is actually raining tonight, so Jack Johnson seems apropos.  It's a strange feeling, having rain last for a day -- or days.  Maybe it's the Californian in me, that would always hope that the short bursts of rain we would get would last for the day.  

Of course, they never did, but now that I'm in the East, I still marvel at the fact that a rainstorm could possibly last for so long.  There's still this excited thrill that it still rains, after hours, and deep down, I hope it continues. 

I've been relatively spiritual and introspective recently, and frankly, I see no reason to stop now.  I need this catharsis (or something) of writing it all down and putting a spotlight on my life, because if I don't, I feel I won't see what I need to see to move forward. 

Today I'm working with this idea of patience.   I'm always working with patience.  I'm a very impatient person.   When the family decided to have "spiritual missions" for each trip, everyone picked lovely things like "seeing the Christ in others," but I had no such poetic flights.  I am impatient, ergo I chose patience as my spiritual mission.  This was back in 2005, and I'm still impatient, so it's still my mission.  Theoretically.  

Cue the present day, and my patience is being tried daily.  It's not for bad things either: it's things that I need to be patient and trust that someone else (God) knows my way better than I do.  But I'm still impatient.  I would like to, for example, have a job right now.  I would also like to know where I will live in a few months.

In the past few days, thanks to a well-timed phone call from Mom, I stood back and re-evaluated.  I started -- actually, inadvertantly! -- to really see the happiness and joy that comes from waiting to see something unfold. 

Perhaps most apparent to me, I followed the "calm, strong currents of true spirituality" (S&H 99:23) and let quite a bit of anxiety about relationships go.  I'm looking situations in the eye, and instead of fretting over the next step, declaration, or move, I'm finding myself pleasantly surprised and genuinely pleased with the gradual advances.

Also, after being a bit petrified about where I would hang my hat come June 1st, I just had a lovely housing opportunity arise, which would mean living with wonderful, sweet friends, and cooking delicious meals together.  What bliss!

I don't know where any of these will lead, but being accepting of the pace (for once!), and enjoying the journey certainly makes it more lovely.

abide with me

abide  verb  3 [ intrans. ]  continue without fading or being lost.

That definition is only supposed to apply to feelings or memories, but I rather like it applying to life.

cherry blossom-time

It's late March, which means it's time for the cherry blossoms.  It's also my one-year anniversary of living in DC.  Technically that was sometime in February, but I associate it with cherry blossoms, so now it is.

Still living in a transitory state.  Moving in two months, looking for a job, waiting for graduate schools.  Is it too much just to want to settle down and live in the same place for longer than 9 months?  For the past 6 years, that's what I've been doing, and at this point it's simply... exhausting.

I've avoided lots of the trappings of homes (couches, dressers) because of the moving (although I have my stand mixer which is not really conducive to nomadism).  I'd like to have a place where I can have dinner parties, and movie nights, and cook for people. 

This sounds more melancholy than I intended.  I meant to talk about the beauty of cherry blossoms and how I found this retro-woodcut print at the Sackler and I think it's simply beautiful.   I was struck that I think Gramps would have loved it, though I'm not sure if that's because he would love the print itself (of course, discussion of the view from the bathroom of the Georgetown house would ensue!), or what it symbolizes: this new chapter in my life, living on my own, seeing this new spring. 

I wish he were here.  It's been a hard year -- and for that I'm glad he wasn't around to see -- but I wish I could have shown him this city, not just as DC, which he knew, but as my town.   

I still have a letter he wrote to me when I turned 21, and I just re-read it.

The little picture on the table in my bedroom was taken when you were about 1 year.  It is a favorite of mine as you project such happiness and wonder, sort of like you just can't wait to see what lies ahead.

You have a wonderful sense of family and such appreciation for all they do for, and with, you and Claire.  This seems so natural to you, but I can't stress how important this is over the years to come.  So many families find this really difficult so what a blessing we have in our closeness and mutual support.

As you contemplate graduation that ole devil anxiety will try to intrude, saying "What will I do now?"  Well, as Mrs E. says, "Stand porter at the door of thought --."  It has no right to enter your mental home for you have a God given right to know the next step even if it seems remote at present.  And remember to look for opening doors for one will open at each stage of your experience and more often than not at the same time that a door is closing.

Tomorrow, I'm going to see the cherry blossoms.

unexpected beauty in the wilderness

flowershop 3

Originally uploaded by hummeline

This photograph makes me so happy. I took it in Berkeley, when Mum & I went to visit a friend of mine, who works in an outdoor flower shop. It was so full of color, and bunched together in mildly haphazard ways that it made me smile.

I like to have a little bit of California spring as I'm waiting for spring to arrive here in Virginia. Fortunately, the past few days have been promising, and all the pear and cherry trees have begun to bloom, including the tiny ones on my little street.

Spring has always been a time of change for me, as it meant a sad goodbye to college friends, and a joyous reunion with family, but now it is even more.

I have had my time in the wilderness.

WILDERNESS. Loneliness, doubt; darkness. Spontaneity of thought & idea; the vestibule in which a material sense of things disappears, and spiritual sense unfolds the great facts of existence. --S&H p. 597

I like the double definitions (they crop up occasionally) because it makes you re-think a situation. Yes, the first thought when you're thrown into the wilderness is those senses of loneliness, doubt and darkness. But -- and this shows up someone is sent into the wilderness is in the Bible (Hagar, Exodus, Jacob, David, Jesus... to name a few), all ones needs are provided for.

And the woman fled into the wilderness, where she had a place prepared of God -- Rev. 12:6

Once those needs are provided for (which removes the fear), this second half of the definition comes up. It provides this space -- vestibule! -- for that spontaneity of thought. A few months ago, this idea popped into my head that, during this time of wilderness, I should not be asking: What am I missing? but instead: What am I now being given the opportunity to do?

I'm not saying I'm completely without fear of the future. I almost broke down, very scared, in the shower yesterday. The wilderness is not meant to be easy. It is still meant to be a time of trials, but trials that lead to a greater understanding. I just have to remember to trust.

The proverbial seeds sown all along the road include the seeds that fall into good soil and bear fruit "an hundredfold," but it is only with patience that they bring forth fruit.

a bit of chinatown, a wedding, and lots of friends

Day 3 & 4 of San Francisco have passed by in a bit of a blur.  

Day 3 we spent the morning wandering around Chinatown, buying tchotchkes and eating the most delicious potstickers at a restaurant called, understandably, The Pot Sticker.  

This day being the wedding, our sightseeing was cut relatively short, as I dolled up, looking like some sort of 50s housewife, and headed out.  I had seamed stockings!  Made it down to Palo Alto, and to the church, almost running over half the groomsmen in the process (not really).

Perhaps the best part of the ceremony was, after the vows, Eric's old a cappella group from Stanford sang a hymn, and something with the way their voices just soared in the space -- I've talked about how this idea of harmony has been coming up, and that was the pitch-perfect example.  

Writing about it now, I'm incredulous that this wedding actually happened.  There was this feeling of the end of my childhood -- I simply adored Eric all throughout high school, so to now see him married (to a wonderful woman) is the first major sign that we all are, in fact, growing up.   Well, some of us.  I was seated at the reception with some old friends,  a new friend, and an old boyfriend, all of whom I cherish, and haven't seen in ages.  It was, again, like the last salute to our childhood & a sign of us growing-up, in a way that seems fitting.

So to end it, I submit our signatures - some faked, excuse us, but only 3 of us were in London - of our characters of Infernal Gaslamp, in the guest book at 221B Baker Street.   These are the people I was so excited to see at the wedding, these are the ones that I will always hold close.

The game is afoot, the Infernal Gaslamp burns & set your watches to 5:07!