Ebenezer.

6/9/12

Lord,

There is so much to remind me right now that You are Faithful. It is so validating right now to know that I wasn’t crazy. You really were saying wait. You really were working on and in  and through me, and You really did have something for me. I really was hearing You, and accurately.

Some of those days were really dark. You were there. You were so there.

And I learned so much.

I learned that there is a huge difference between a want and a need. Most of the time the difference is in your attitude.

I learned that living within your means is not about how much money you make it is about discipline. And understanding the difference between a want and a need.

I learned that my Daily Bread can come in any form. For me, it often appears in words. From the Bible, from others, from something I read throughout the day....but if my heart is present, I know where those words are from.

I learned that I have a tendency to find my self-worth and security in what I do or where I’m headed. In my purpose and direction. I think, Lord, I understand why You took that away from me this year, because I didn’t know that about myself. God forbid that I rest in anything but You. God, forbid that I ever forget who I am and Who I belong to. My purpose is wherever and in whatever You want, because YOU alone know exactly where you can use me not just well, but best in Your Kingdom. And God, forbid that I ever want anything but that.

I learned that my purpose can indeed sometimes best served in coffee shop. And in a French restaurant in a seedy part of town. That Your work is done anywhere. That “big things” aren’t in “big places”. That Your Economy has nothing to do with mine right now (and may mine change), because earthly geography and first world economy don’t necessarily speak to the economy of Your Kingdom. Though Yours most definitely speaks to ours.

I learned a ton about the power of prayer. It ain't messing around. And this life we live isn't about flesh and blood....Wow. May I never forget.

God, thank You, for all that You brought me through and all that You taught me this year, even though I was not always a willing student. Thank you for your grace in not letting me go “anywhere” until I did.

And thank You, thank You again for this job. May I not lose sight of the fact that this position right now is probably a stepping stone for something else. Father, may I be a ready and willing and pliable student in the office of the District Attorney and may I be prepared for what You’ll have for me next. But whatever I do and wherever I go may I not lose sight of why I get up in the morning and who I get up for. It’s for You. Who created me and has prepared every day for me in advance that I may go and live it and live it well for You. May I never forget.

Give me powers of concentration and learning here in this job. Grant me favor with my supervisor and my co-workers. May I be Your hands and feet....even if that may mean typing with those hands and going between to floors of stairs with my feet right now. May I not forget that this was a gift from You. A gift when I was ready for it.

Father, show me what firstfruits means here. I’ll give them to you. Whatever it means. And give me an ebenezer, may this be a stake in the ground that I may not forget what this year has taught me.

May this be a stake in the ground. Thank You, from a very humbled servant. Thank You for coming through. I’m sorry that You always knew You would but I didn’t. May this be a stake in the ground to remind me that You are faithful. And may I be too.....

Traci

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By Your Side lyrics
Songwriters: Donehey, Michael; Ingram, Jason David; Larue, Phillip;

Why are you striving these days?
Why are you trying to earn grace?
Why are you crying?
Let me lift up your face, just don't turn away

Why are you looking for love?
Why are you still searching as if I'm not enough?
To where will you go child?
Tell me where will you run, to where will you run?

'Cos I'll be by your side wherever you fall
In the dead of night whenever you call
And please don't fight these hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you

Look at these hands at my side
They swallowed the grave on that night
When I drank the world's sin
So I could carry you in and give you life
I wanna give you life

And I'll be by your side wherever you fall
In the dead of night whenever you call
And please don't fight these hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you

Here at my side wherever you fall
In the dead of night whenever you call
And please don't fight these hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you

'Cause I, I love you, I want you to know
That I, yeah I love you, I'll never let you go
No, no

And I'll be by your side wherever you fall
In the dead of night whenever you call
And please don't fight these hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you

Here at my side wherever you fall
In the dead of night whenever you call
And please don't fight these hands that are holding you
My hands are holding you

Here at my side
My hands are holding you

3 Months of Ramble....

So, I’ve been home for about 3 months now.


As usual, in some respects it has crept by and in others it has flown. I’ve found myself thinking a lot recently about what I was doing a “year ago today” or “two years ago today” and I’m not entirely sure why. I don’t necessarily tend to live in the past, so I think it might be a mechanism to measure how far I’ve come or how much I’ve “grown” or changed in a certain about of time. I’ve come to realize how much worth I find in that kind of thing, and while it may be valuable and important and very much a driving impetus of mine (to grow and change), I do not want it to be the source of my self-worth. How to change that I do not yet know. Right now the issue is simply committed to prayer. It just sounds like something that’s gonna hurt. Period.


That said, a year ago today I was sitting in on the different classes at my school in Rosny sous bois, France and getting acquainted with how public school works in that country. I was living in a hostel, and in tears on the streets wondering if I would be bed and hostel hopping for 9 months and what I was going to do with myself when all of my “aid” (i.e. Karissa) and visitors left me to brave the big city of Paris all by myself.


I remember feeling like the “rest of my life” would start after Paris. Like, once I got that out of the way then life could move on and maybe I could be “normal” for a bit. I realized today that I still--3 months after being back--feel like I’m waiting for the “rest of my life” to start.


It’s interesting to realize that I feel this way, because in my head I do not believe this. I believe that life is NOW and how you choose to handle the NOW. The “rest of one’s life” does not have an 8-5 schedule and benefits and two weeks off a year. I do not know when it was that I began to subscribe to the notion that it does, but I want it eradicated-- especially if I do happen to end up with that kind of a lifestyle for a bit!


The fact that that value shifted just a little bit tells me that the source from which I desire to draw my security and self worth has changed for me. While it’s natural to change with “age” (I want to be careful throwing THAT word around) and for values to shift, I don’t ever want my source of security and self-worth to waver.


This I have been learning about. I came back to America and my life here after a hard year and I’m still sorting through how much I’ve changed due to my international experience, but also probably the entire year before it. Two years ago today I hesitated before getting on the airplane to move back up here indefinitely to Alaska. I may have left for a while to go live somewhere else for 9 months, but if home is truly “where the heart is”, my home has been here for two years now....weird.


I’ve been realizing in the last couple weeks that some of the “romance” of being up here has worn off a bit, I had missed the nature so much and my life and my friends up here and now that I’m back into the swing of things, I’m remembering all of the less easy and/or less than perfect things about all of the above. But, it feels good. For the first time in a long time has come a resolute feeling of I’m in this for the long term. I’m not going anywhere this time. I’m still, of course, looking for the next adventure, but my geography is pretty certain for a while and therefore many of the relationships around me. That feels good.


I’ve realized that that is “the rest of my life” for now. Even though I’m working at a coffee shop and a French restaurant and will be for probably another few months, the rest of my life has already started and never really has been out of my reach. The rest of my life is in reality the sum of my days just lived out in the present: regardless of my geography or profession.


I have to say that every time I get on any social network (including whichever one you’re reading this on) I am reminded that my life situation looks very different right now than many of my friends my age (read: single and childless) AND an increasing number of my acquaintances much younger than me. This sometimes makes me feel crazy, sometimes smart, sometimes inferior and sometimes just plain old different, but usually a combination of two or more of these..... (Depends on my mood).


I had long had a short mental list of goals that I wanted to accomplish before quote on quote “settling down”. After moving to Paris and back, this list is officially accomplished and in my past. Weird. I think a part of me is struggling without these goals anymore because I tend to THRIVE on goals, but it feels really, really good too. And in a sense my life is before me.


Funny too how this fact has reintroduced some old dreams of mine. I’ve found myself mulling over again the idea of law school. I’ve been thinking of revisiting my gymnastic days and grabbing some friends to go and tumble at a local gym. It’s just funny. I want to learn to fence and have considered taking music lessons again....interesting.


I’ve changed. A lot. I’m not sure how to handle that fact but it’s inevitable and overall good. A part of this change includes a lot more doubt about my strengths and who I am and blah, blah, blah...but bottom line is that I am living out the rest of my life right now and it’s not about arriving it’s about traveling well.


That I can do. I’ve traveled a lot. And I have a Perfect Traveling Partner. :)


And that’s my ramble for now....

Coming Home

It’s weird being back. Except I feel hypocritical saying that. One thing that I’ve concluded this year is that there is no such thing as “normal” or “weird”: there is “healthy” and “unhealthy” and “customary” and “uncustomary” but really no normal/weird. That said, it’s weird being back.

I knew culture shock would hit me, but I didn’t know what it would look like. I actually thought I’d have a harder time adjusting back to the States than I have. I experienced so much this last year that there is a lot there to process. And I’ve begun to do so in my own way, I suppose, but I can’t say that I’ve been truly “shocked” since I’ve been home.

There are still things that are hitting me. I find myself saying “that is so American” a lot. I have a far deeper appreciation now for what it means to be American and even to live where I do in the States. I’m still head over heels in love with the mountains and nature that surrounds me and I feel even more appreciative of it after being removed from it. I kind of thought that the way I felt about Alaska would change over the year, but it hasn’t. I’m back and back indefinitely....as long as I can find a job! That feels good.

The stuff that has struck me shouldn’t surprise me, I suppose. And it doesn’t really. The other day I was blocked from entering a grocery store for a moment because the people in front of me were so overweight. The thought crossed my mind that that would never have happened in Europe. I’ve begun “snacking” again and then kicked myself for it. I miss the walking everywhere and the wonderful food and wine and cheese. Everybody is very loud here, but there are fewer people in general so it’s OK. There are much stricter parking rules here and sometimes I find myself genuinely doubting my English. I’m much more conscious of how the US fits into the “World” setting and find myself much more interested in the news. (Part of this is that I deactivated my Facebook account and have more time and mental energy to do so...more on that later). I was a little dumbfounded listening to my friends’ “drunk” stories the other day...I’d forgotten about that. I’m loving and hating both being back in my own culture and society that I understand so much better. I love and hate that I can once more fairly accurately pick up on undercurrents in conversations and non-verbals and am keen to interpersonal dynamics in relationships. It’s nice to be back to that, but hard in it’s own way. But then, that’s just life. I’m remembering that too.

Because I have experienced so much this year, I find myself talking about little things here and there and different countries and stories that sometimes probably seem unrelated to the topic of conversation or whatever (though the correlation makes perfect sense in my mind) and then I wonder if I sound like a show off or a snob....I hate it, but I’m also a verbal processor and so it’s hard to keep it to myself sometimes. Thankfully I have some very patient friends.

I feel like these encompass probably the majority of the nuances of what I’m going through in transitioning culturally. I have to say I thought it would be “worse” if you will, harder and deeper than it has been so far. But, I’m not really complaining!

I guess maybe this could mean that I had such major culture shock moving over to France that I never really recovered as long as I was there and now I am just back to where I was before I left....I don’t know. Geography would suggest this (that I am back to where I was) but I’ve changed. Not all for the good either.

In the last couple weeks I have been most shocked by the insecurities that have been unearthed in me in coming home. I’m not sure if they’ve been there a while and I just haven’t dealt with them, or if they really are new or just heightened by being gone or what. It’s been really hard to A) realize and B) deal with. I haven’t really yet.

I’ve come back to the States emotionally drained, but in a different way that when I left. It’s funny. I’ve come back feeling (here’s a little transparency here, brace for it....) older, uglier, more alone and attention deprived. I know some of this is just due to being away from my established community and my family while being overseas, but I really really hate feeling emotionally needy. It feels like I deal with one area (or think I do) and then another one is unearthed.....I don’t know how to describe it or how to remedy it. Except turn to God. So much easier talked about than accomplished, however. It’s so much quicker to turn to human community to fill that need, but then it’s so dissatisfying in the end. I’ve found myself once more asking myself what kind of woman do I want to be and what I’m going to do on a daily basis to get there. Tearfully. Not an easy question to answer. And being at such a huge crossroads in my life doesn’t necessarily provide any more clarity there, either. I feel like my life could take any direction right now and that fact is as equally scary as it is exciting.

In light of all this, I’ve also been reexamining a lot of relationships in coming home. Every time I come back to somewhere from somewhere else, relational dynamics change--this I have learned. I expected this to happen in coming back here to Alaska, but I haven’t completely figured it out yet. There is a natural ebb and flow to relationships in life and I’ve learned to more and more embrace this. And this time around I just want to let it happen instead of trying to manipulate it. But it’s been hard.

I deactivated my Facebook page. I really hate how childish that looks in print compared to what a big deal it actually is in my life. But, that is, I suppose precisely why it had to go for the moment. Social networking is a double-edged sword. I began to realize how, due to my current season of dealing with insecurities, I was beginning to look to it more and more for validation and attention....UGLY and HUMBLING. I’m sure I’ll be back on there at some point, but for the moment it actually feels really good. And gives me a slightly clearer head. There are some relationship reasons too, but that’s still too hard to write about. I thought I’d be over it in getting back here, but I’m not. It’s tough to be patient with myself in process, I’m not a very patient person. But, that’s what He’s always trying to drive home for me. I need it.

On a lighter note, I’ve “played” more up here in Alaska in the last month than I think I have all of the last 4 summers I’ve spent up here put together! Hiking, mountain biking, kayaking, shooting, more hiking and more kayaking and lots of people to do it with....I love it. I’m loving not being on the train this summer, and I don’t miss it a bit. I love that the “train” era of my life has now become the reason I came up here in the first place but no longer why I’m here. I also love many of the relationships that were born out of that season of life, but I equally love that not working with those relationships anymore deepens them.

I’m waiting to hear more about a job that is hopefully opening up soon in the Governor’s Office of International Trade in Anchorage. They won’t be hiring for a bit so I think I’m going to go sell tickets at the Alaska State Fair in the interim and pray my bills get paid with that income. I’m staying with two dear, dear friends who are a godsend in their generosity to put me up until I get settled. It has been really, really humbling to need help financially. They have been wonderful.

I miss my family, my visit home was far too short. I hope I can go home to Oregon for Christmas. But, just like most things in my life right now, I’m going to just have to wait and see if that will be possible. I’m praying I learn another little piece of the puzzle in the “be still and know” journey. It’s hard. But, all in all it sure is good to be home. :)

Fire?

One of my favorite songs is called “Empty Me”. It’s a fairly simple song, and it goes as such:

Holy fire, burn away
My desire of anything
that is not of you and is of me
I want more of you and less of me, yeah....

Empty me, empty me, yeah
Fill, won't you fill me
With you and less of me, yeah

Succinctly simple. I’ll often listen to this song in the morning to just help get in the state of mind/heart that I want to be in to pray. I’ve come to realize in the last year that I often bend toward viewing the physical world is as a metaphor for spiritual things. This comes from discovering that I naturally tend to have this drive to find connections with things and form mental associations. It’s cool, but sometimes exhausting. But anyway, this part about me, I’ve found, very hugely translates over into my spiritual life.

I’ve been thinking the last couple of days about this “holy fire” thing. This metaphor is found absolutely everywhere in scripture nearly from beginning to end. Funny how things common like that become so rote and trite often unless we choose or are prompted to more closely examine what they really mean....it’s been coming to mind a lot:

Fire is beautiful. And powerful. And painful. All of these things. What more is “Holy fire”? And why is it that metaphysical pain sometimes hurts so much more than physical?

Synergy

I found this in an old journal today. Decided to revamp and resurrect it.

Synergy

If beauty hath her soul to offer,
So hath he a certain strength to give.
Though she may of the two be softer,
Strength yearns to surrounded with it live.

Both these advance in one synchrony,
If effort's made in proper time,
To effect a space of synergy:
Ultimate race of verse and rhyme.

Protect, and in effect provision,
May he, strength, procure and extend
But lacking any fairer vision
Foremost will he simply "pretend".

Same beauty blooms under shelter there
Too profits from--may well have need
Of haven formed, symbiotic pair
To render her due veracity.

If friend to friend each other ne'er heed,
So neither becomes ever full indeed.
T. Emerson

Too-Small Frock: For Raychel

One day may I fall, to nevermore miss
This too-small frock, too poorly fit dress.
This restrict habit my soul reflecting,
In a future's time will love undressing--

A Soul internal, await of things free
A cagèd being will I never more be.
Censorship ceased, all within to express;
Revested someday in so tailored dress.
-T. Emerson

For my dear friend Raychel. Inspired by her. :)

Two Months

It’s been two months. I got here on September 29th and now it’s been two months that I’ve been in Europe, and a resident of Paris, France.

I’ve hesitated to write about it for a number of reasons. First, so much has happened that it’s overwhelming. I won’t feel like I’ve adequately covered it all, no matter how hard I try. Secondly and succinctly put, this whole thing has been really hard.

I have been overwhelmed at how much my family and friends have been excited for me and behind me in embarking on this experience, to the point where I’m very humbled. It feels as if everyone is so excited for me to be here, that for it to be difficult and for me to feel anything less than enraptured with my geographic circumstances feels ungrateful and downright spoiled of me. This is the furthest thing, obviously, that I want to be, but nonetheless, I’ve found myself in puddles of tears enough to feel that I must be at some degree honest about how hard this whole thing has been! The first few weeks of my time here, I had a lot of friends visiting, traveling with me, and it was wonderful. One of these said individuals challenged me to chronologue how my outlook on this whole 9 month excursion changes over the length of it. I’ve been reflecting much on that challenge--because I promised her I would do it--but have also struggled with how honest I want to be. So, here goes. This is for me, for sure, but also, this is for you Ash. Thank you for the challenge.

I have concluded that one could not find two more opposite places in quote “western society” that Alaska and Paris, France. On many levels. Alaska is vast, wild, sparsely populated and fairly newly touched--just to name a few of it’s characteristics. Paris is geographically miniscule in comparison (or shall we say contrast), highly “civilised”, immeasurably more populated and not at all without an nearly ancient and just as profound sense of heritage. Not that either extreme is at all in its entirety “bad”, but it is anyway worth noting these pronounced extremes in saying that it has been really hard to adjust from living in one extreme to the next. Also, I believe I mentioned in the last update that I found myself so busy this summer that I really didn’t have time to build up expectations or ideas about what France was going to be like. While I found this to be advantageous, I can also say that I was not prepared and had not previously considered this big differences and how they might affect me!

LANGUAGE:
The language has been hard. I’ve realized that while majoring in French--albeit 4 years ago--has been helpful, I have been much better prepared to discuss literature and philosophy in the language that I’m currently immersed in, rather than doing daily life. I could at one point in college communicate very effectively big, universal ideas and truths and discuss the societal ramifications of literature. But, as it’s now 4 years later and completely different subject matter, I’m struggling! In Ernest Hemingway’s The Moveable Feast (which I am currently reading)--a memoir of his time in Paris in the 20’s--he talks about “writing”, and he says that he “learned to not think about anything that I was writing from the time I stopped writing until I started again the next day....” And that way his “subconscious would be working on it and at the same time I would be listening to other people and noticing everything....learning.” As an amateur “writer” I can totally relate to this phenomenon. But I also find myself hoping that my French language skills will undergo the same kind of circumstance. Only time will tell....

HOME:
Another source of stress has been my living situation, though I think things are getting better. First let me explain a little about my roomates. I’m in an apartment in the 9th Arrondissement, just south of Montmartre and Sacré Cœur--which I can actually see from my bedroom balcony. My Metro stop is the Montmartre stop, which is beautiful but also subsequently always BUSY. I live with an older lady and another middle aged gentlemen. Madame Hélène Vautrin is, I believe, in her 70s, a retired secretary divorcee who raised two daughters on her own in Nice, southern France--while she her self comes from the east area of the country. Nicolas, 46, is a friend of the family and Mme Vautrin’s grandson’s godfather. He’s wonderful, and very patient with my French and very obliging to give advice and cultural insight. He’s also learning English, so I’m often amused when he suddenly emits English explicatives. :) The apartment itself feels like a museum, there are so many antiques, and the floor even squeaks as a good museum does.

As wonderful and (over)mothering as Mme Vautrin may be, she does not claim those she houses on her taxes. Therefore, she did not want to let me use her address for any of my purposes. This is a problem because:

In order to be paid I must have a bank account.
In order to open a bank account I must (French law?) have a “justificatif de domicile” (declaration from my landlord, saying that I live with them) signed AND an adjoined bill from the same address.
In order to get my visa validated AND be covered by French national health insurance (la Securité Sociale) I have to send in my address AND have yet another “justificatif de domicile”.
And lastly, in order to even eat and pay rent I have to be paid. The american dollar that I earned all summer only goes so far...

Eventually, after some tears (she caught me stressed out and in tears at one point) and telling her that I didn’t want her to get into trouble, but I need an address (??!!), she relented and signed the papers.

THEN, I went to open my bank account. Which was a challenge in and of itself given that I had to muddle through legalese in a foreign language. However, It went fairly smoothly until I didn’t get my papers and especially my PIN for my French debit card because my name wasn’t on the mailbox at the apartment. I went in to inquire about this and they told me they’d send the PIN again but there was a possibility of my account shutting down....

Long story short and a dreaded conversation with the “Madame”, my name is on the mailbox. For now. And I have a bank account and a fully functional debit card and now I can eat and pay the rent. And they even call me “Madame Emerson” when I go in the bank. :)

I’ve never before experienced uncertainty about a roof over my head. It’s an interesting sensation. There was a period of time where I wondered if I could stay, and if I would be able to find another place, even. It was incredibly stressful finding a room in the first place, and the idea of having to stay indefinitely in a hostel again and of calling random numbers over and over again to find a home was overwhelming. So, I’m glad the address thing is momentarily ironed out.

Nevertheless, I’m learning more about dear Mme Vautrin. She is highly fiscally conscious. I have made of few “faux pas” in the home regarding the matter. For instance, there is no light in my room. The light switch is broken and the electrician is supposed to come. Sometime. It’s been this way for about two weeks now and she was gone for a week. She’s back now and has made no effort to remedy situation, as far as I can tell. I made do with a clip on light bulb I found in the already cluttered-with-who-knows-what-and-where-it came-from bedroom that I inhabit and promptly got in trouble for using it because it was (drumroll please) 200 watts and too expensive. I also should not have, apparently, roasted a chicken in the oven . I’m not supposed to use the oven either: it’s too expensive.

Suffice it to say, all of this has had me fearing the woman a bit and afraid of doing something wrong! But, as Nicolas says--who was appalled at hearing my stories--one does what one wants when she’s gone. This last week he made a wonderful quiche in the oven and I enjoyed my well lit bedroom.

I think I’m making some breakthroughs with her, though. She came back from her trip to see her daughter with a ton of questions for me about my life and country, because she’d apparently been discussing her “americane” with her family. I also accompanied her to and from the train station with her suitcase, and while it seemed an obvious thing to me--not to mention a pleasure--it seems to have broken some kind of wall down with her. She’s beginning to ask favors of me and take interest in my life. :)

As I live in a big city now, I’m trying really hard to get used to all the noise. But it’s hard, because I hate it. I can nearly follow the neighbor’s conversations through the thin walls, there’s work going on in/on the buildings across the street and rennovation happening in the “square” down the street. There is also a lady that lives in the same building that bursts out in random and very bad operatic notes. I haven’t yet pinpointed the origin of these poorly skilled emissions, but I’m choosing to approach the phenomenon as “quirky” and “endearing” and “funny”, instead of annoying. Hopefully this lasts.

WORK:
My job has been a real highlight in many ways, though it also presents its own set of unsureties and ambiguities. The children are from ages 7-10 roughly and CUTE as all get out! I’ve never been such a celebrity before, whenever I walk through the school hallways they all shout “Bonjour, Traci!” and I hear them trying to speak English to each other. I love it. Also, the teachers have been very warm toward me, which, I hear is unusual. Many other assistants have horror stories about their teaching situation, but I have to say I’m happy with mine. :)
On a broader scale, however, I’m less and less impressed with the Education Nationale itself. In a word: UNORGANIZED. The teachers know it, too. They hate it, but nobody can change it, so it would seem. Much more on the Education Nationale later. Also, I already have stories about how French education itself is conducted on a day to day basis. Very different, but that’ll come later.... My job is very ambiguous and not very well lined out. They gave us some papers stating what each grade level should know at the end of the year and then a whole bunch of “games”. We have “trainings” too, in which we play these said games. Fantastic. Really, though the kids are adorable and the teachers are nice, I have NO IDEA what I'm doing.

HEALTH:
I have been sick for almost 5 days now. My system crashed and I’ve not been sleeping well either. Things are getting “better”, but I’m definitely looking forward to feeling 100% again. I’ve lost some weight due to walking a lot and healthier eating habits, but I know some of it’s stress too. I came to France in not a very good emotional state. And now that friends are gone and I've gotten a little bit more of a daily routine here, it's catching up to me and I need to deal with it. I’ve spent most of my hours at home these last few days and have found ample time to reflect on this. I’ve come to some good realizations. There will be some elaboration on this fact to come, but I feel as I should leave it at that for now.

ITALY:
I GOT TO GO TO ITALY!!! 3 weeks into “teaching”, the Education Nationale went on a two week vacation and I got to go back to Naples and see my “family” there. It had been 5 years since my stay there over the summer of 2005 and it was actually kind of emotional and certainly precious to be reunited with some really amazing people there. I told my girls there, and it’s so true, that even though it had been so long since I’d been back, I had never forgotten. Naples is a special place.
On that note, I did see other parts of Italy, and overall just fell in love all over again with the country and the language. I also got to re-experience all of this with some dear, awesome friends from Alaska, Rachel and Kristie. Even though I’ve been to Italy several times before and experienced much of it before, this trip and time with them will remain entirely unforgettable. It was rough when they left. :(

So, while there is still so much to say, I’ve already well exceeded 2000 words and should leave it at that for now.

I’m still missing Alaska, and very much looking forward to Christmas. It’s been a year since I’ve been home to Oregon and I’ll be hopping on a plane for Canby in a little less than 3 weeks. My sister’s getting married! And really, it's been too long since I've been home.

So, that's some of my last two months. Like I said, it's been hard more than it's been anything else, and that's just my honesty that I've finally decided to give. Some of it's my circumstances and some of it's just me. I'm here, alone, not knowing what I'm doing and trying to figure a lot of crap out. It's good though. As I mentioned before, I'm reading Hemingway at the moment. One of my favorite lines of his at the moment describes the trees of Paris during winter so aptly:

"The trees were sculpture without their leaves when you were reconciled to them..."

I love this because it reminds me of a poem I wrote, once, for somebody else and with them in mind. This quote though, and where I'm at in life has caused me to turn this mirror a bit more on myself. So here it is, and here's me looking forward to Spring--on a couple of different levels:

L'hiver d'un arbre

Once leaving her usual more drapèd state
A silent, barren, and shivering tree
In stretching to invite a new frigid weight
Offers a raw and naked form of beauty.

The snow adorning all original lines,
O winter's blanchèd form of weeping
Paints anew an obscure but divined design
Ne'er perceived till the dawn of summer's sleeping.

Humbled may she be, stripped to naught
Undergoing a brief annual time to remind
A catharsis solidifying what a year may've wraught
A flight back to loveliness found only inside.

But her foliage is come back, and so supplements
A diff'rent season's rendering of natural grace.
The joy of spring's budding is only ever lent
Warm vibrance by foil of a colder place.

So, the winters of life disparage not then
For out of it speaks untold colors within.
T. Emerson