i run.

pete is desperate for friends right now. (...so am i.) the move has really been rough on him. (and if i'm honest...me too.) he had regular puppy play dates in the village. he played with his dog pals nearly every day of the week and it's now been three months since the big move and he's only played with one other dog for a grand total of two hours one month ago.

today, while we were taking our daily run around the apartment complex, i noticed his ears perk every time we passed another dog. whether they were indoors or out on a walk, every dog sparked his interest. it is so clear that he wants so desperately to just run around and play with another pup. but i held true to my determination to get in those miles before the rains came. i kept him moving along every time.

it didn't stop him, though, from continuing to spot every dog and staring them down as long as he could. sometimes i even had to give him a little tug on the leash to remind him that we were not going to succumb to any distractions. i have a goal for pete and i. for me, i want to feel good about my body for once in my life. for pete, i need him to release some major energy so he isn't such a crazy mess in the evenings.

so we kept on running. we didn't stop. not when the prissy little yorkie yipped at pete and tried to start a fight. not when the black lab took a playful stance and beckoned pete to come and play then barked fiercely when pete started toward him. not when the bulldog sat and stared us down like we were the enemy. not even when the absolutely adorable beagle wagged his tail and cheerfully joined us on the run for as long as she could keep up. we kept on running.

sometimes i wonder if i've passed up some great things because i was too focused on what was ahead of me. sure, this can be a good thing. passing up jobs or men or friendships or opportunities that simply weren't positive influences has been a good thing. passing up on them because they were degrading or mundane or unhealthy or ...simply not enough. passing on the yorkie, passing on the lab, passing on the bulldog - these were good choices.

but what about the beagles of my life? the opportunities and the people who came into my life and for lack of true acknowledgement or a ridiculous loyalty to a senseless hurried pace, i kept on running.

while i am still learning the ins and outs of becoming a physical runner, i am an expert on the practice of running from my life sometimes. i dismiss the pilot who gives me his number because "i have a plane to catch. besides, he can't really be interested in me." or when i don't even print out the application for the internship in paris because "i've already promised to move to charlotte with kara. it may only be february, but i can't back out now." 

i don't share this to dwell on the "could have been"s. that's a waste of time. i share because i don't want reach the end of my life and realize that it was chock full of "could have been"s. from now on, i want to be known as someone who took the time to acknowledge life around me. i want to be known as someone who took advantage of every positive opportunity that came her way. i want to be known for more than just someone who pursued her goals, but as someone who truly lived.

this is not to say that i will let pete play with every dog we meet during our evening run. but maybe once in a while we'll walk instead, and we'll say hello to the people and the puppies we meet on the street. who knows, maybe that beagle will be pete's new best friend. (...heck, maybe i'll find a new friend too.)

being myself ...but better

"i just hope that you aren't changing who you are for this..."

she said it so seriously that the tension in the room almost made me giggle. (i laugh when i'm nervous, but anyone reading this knows that about me already.)

katie has been a best friend almost since the day i met her. she has always allowed me to be myself. actually, she's begged me to be myself every moment that we are together. if i am anything but truly me, she automatically questions it.

i love this about her. i love this about our friendship.

so the other night when she asked me if i was somehow changing who i am for my job, well, i hesitated. i haven't felt like i needed to change anything for my job. ...but katie knows me so well. maybe she is seeing something i don't?

people said the same thing when i joined my fraternity ten years ago. i remember one longtime friend in particular saying, "what, now you're going to be a barbie or something?"

i didn't have the right words for those friends ten years ago, and i didn't have a good explanation for katie either. but i think i do now. (i'm an internal processor. i need time to think about things before i respond.)

for the past few years i lived in a village. a VILLAGE, people. it's not like i completely let myself go to the point of needing an intervention or anything, but i surely wasn't taking care of myself either. what was the point? there was nowhere to grow in my job. and the most interaction i saw each day was with college students who thought pajamas were acceptable for class and mac 'n' cheese should be considered as a food group of its own. who did i have to impress? where was my challenge?

now that i am back among the living, i care a little more. this is a good thing.

i have been more thoughtful of my appearance than i have been in recent years. and yes, i have been more concerned with physical fitness and healthy nutrition. the same thought processes changed when i made my decision that fateful bid day friday ten years ago.

because membership in my fraternity makes me want to be better.

and not just better looking, although those are the easiest to recognize at first glance. i have a renewed connection to my faith. a renewed commitment to seeking social justice. a renewed positivity in what each day can bring.

our new fraternity tagline charges us to "live with purpose" and i intend to live with purpose every day. so, i purposefully style my appearance not to distract from my intelligence. i purposefully make healthy living a priority. i purposefully try to find new ways to challenge myself and my creativity. i purposefully seek out opportunities to contribute to my community.

if membership in an organization doesn't make you want to be a better person, then what's the point? and if the work you do each day doesn't challenge you to seek more, to learn more, to do more, to be more, then maybe it's time to find another job.

6 planes, 4 days

last week was a whirlwind. i traveled 5,881 miles over the span of four days via six airplanes visiting six different airports. none of this was planned. it just kind of happened.

i have a habit of sleeping on planes. i sleep, typically, for the duration of the flight. the attendants are lucky if i even stay awake long enough for them to give the safety demonstration. somehow, though, i always wake up as they come back with the drink cart. every time i order the same thing: sprite zero.

why, you ask? 1) because as a kid my mom always gave me 7up when i had an upset stomach and unfortunately i do have a little bit of motion sickness in cars, boats, and airplanes. not enough for dramamine or anything, but enough for a clear carbonated soda. and 2) because regular sprite is too sugary for me.

i drink my sprite and then i return to my usual routine. sleeping.

well, as we were mid-flight somewhere over montana (i think) during flight #2, i noticed such beautiful scenery through the window. the mountains were stunning and there in the middle of the peaks was this vibrant aqua blue-green pool of crystal clear water. (the photo does not do it justice...) i stared. i barely took my eyes off of it long enough to get the photo.

shortly after passing the mountains we rose to a higher altitude, and it wasn't long before we were soaring above gracefully dancing clouds. it was like i was watching cotton candy ballerinas from a box seat above the sky stage. i couldn't help but smile with pure delight and appreciation of the joy in front of my eyes. it was beautiful and delicate and animated, all at the same time.

i didn't go back to my routine sleep. i couldn't. all i could do was stare at these dancing clouds and pray that one day i would find the joy and the peace and the beauty that these clouds had found.  i was mesmerized by it all.

eventually, we had to cut through the clouds and prepare for landing. all of a sudden, this beauty that had me mesmerized was the cause for terrible turbulence. it was a rocky flight for a little while, but as soon as we cut through the clouds it was smooth sailing through the landing.

last night i talked with a friend who has cut through some clouds recently. he's endured the turbulence and came out on the other side relatively unscathed, but our conversation got me thinking about that flight.

we sometimes idealize things from behind the protective lens of our own defenses. he had resigned himself to being single for life. he had given up on the idea of romance and marriage and children and he was okay with it. life had different plans, though. [enter dream girl from stage right.] and the very thing that had looked so full of joy and peace and beauty, turned out to bring him down a rocky path. but even though the relationship is over now, he'll tell you that it was worth it. because he learned about himself and he learned about love. was it the fairy tale? no. but no one can say that he sat by and let life pass him by. he was out dancing with the clouds.

i have a habit of sleeping on planes. i wake up just long enough to get a drink that will help ease the pain, but i quickly fall back into my routine. i miss a lot while i'm asleep. i miss aqua blue-green crystal clear lakes among the mountain tops. i miss beautiful ballerina cloud coverage. and yes, i'd even miss the turbulence.

i fought my instincts and stayed awake for flight #4 and the pay off was totally worth it. the hot pilot asked out for coffee.

so here's to staying awake and experiencing life - because a little bit of turbulence is worth dancing with the clouds.

the mourning kaddish

"man, when he does not grieve, hardly exists."  ~ antonio porchia

i struggle with grief. i'm not good at mourning. in an attempt to appear as though i've got it all together, i let the fear and the hurt and the frustration build up until all of a sudden i can no longer function. i freeze. i let the pain overpower me.

unfortunately, my christian tradition didn't give me much to work with when it comes to grieving. our jewish brothers and sisters, however, have a rich language for mourning and i have found it exponentially helpful in times like these.

the first phase is called aninut, or "burial" which lasts between death and burial. during aninut mourners are free from all responsibility. they don't have to do anything but prepare for the funeral. rabbi margaret holub says "mourners are exempt from other commandments during aninut because only the living are obligated by God's law, and in those first days after a death, mourners border on death themselves." more than that, even the community is free from obligation. they aren't supposed to visit or bring food or even try to comfort the mourners. as rabbi holub says, "the death is still happening, so the work of comforting cannot yet begin."

the second phase is called shiva, or "seven" for the first week following the burial. the community gathers at the mourner's home to "sit shiva". in silence, they sit. during this time, the mourners do not leave the house, but rely on the community to bring meals and offer support without offering advice. this is taken from the story of job and it is my favorite part of the jewish mourning process. 

the third phase is called shloshim, or "thirty" and lasts for the next month. finally, the mourner comes out of their house and enters society once more. it is a gradual process, of attending services and talking with friends. 

finally, after the thirty days, the mourner enters the final phase of mourning which last a full year. during this time you pray the kaddish, but you can't pray it alone. by design, you must pray this prayer with a community. it forces the mourner back into the community. you actually say the kaddish twice a day, every day for the the full year after the death, including during shiva and shloshim.

the kaddish is a reminder of who God is and how God is working in our lives. and even if you don't feel like praying, you do it. kind of a 'fake it til ya make it' attitude. you pray the kaddish because you know that even if you don't feel it in that moment, God is there. 

in her book mudhouse sabbath, lauren winner says it this way: "even in the pit, even in depression and loss and nonsense, still we respond to God with praise. this is not to say that the mourner should not feel what he feels - anger disbelief, hatred. he can feel those things (and shout them out to God; God can take it.). you do not have to feel praise in the intense moments of mourning, but the praise is still true, and insisting upon it over and over, twice a day every day, ensures that eventually you will come to remember the truth of those praises."

this is the part i forget, sometimes. i forget to praise God through the pain. i forget that even though i just can't feel it, that God is there and that God is still mighty and powerful and loving and just. that even though all i may be able to see is the darkness and the pain and the doubt, that God is still God.  

i love this process. because it is just that - a process. i think sometimes as christians we talk about grief and we talk about moving forward but we don't do a good job of teaching what happens in between. we bring meals and we send cards, but that typically only lasts a couple weeks or so. after that, the cards stop coming and the doorbell stops ringing. after that, we're all alone. it's expected that we should move on with our lives. 

the jewish tradition recognizes the need for a longer mourning process. it recognizes that we don't move on so quickly. sometimes things never go back to normal. most times, you have to create a new normal, and that takes time. 

tonight, i sit shiva. tonight, i sit in silence as others grieve. tonight, i pray with them the kaddish, because God is still there. amidst the pain and the confusion and even the hatred, God is still there. and God is still God.

may the great name of God be exalted and sanctified,

throughout the world, which he has created according to his will. 

may his kingship be established in your lifetime and in your days, 

and in the lifetime of the entire household of israel,

swiftly and in the near future; 

and say, amen.

may his great name be blessed, forever and ever.
blessed, praised, glorified, exalted, extolled,
honored elevated and lauded be the name of the holy one,

blessed is he - above and beyond any blessings and hymns,

praises and consolations which are uttered in the world;

and say, amen. 

may there be abundant peace from heaven,

and life, upon us and upon all israel; 

and say, amen.

he who makes peace in his heights, may he make peace,

upon us and upon all israel. 

and say, amen.

best of friends

she's been a best friend for nearly two decades. some of my earliest memories include her. like her second grade birthday slumber party or jumping on the big trampoline in her back yard. there were times in our lives when we were absolutely inseparable.

i was there when her daughter was born, stood next to her when she married the man of her dreams and cried the day her son was brought into the world.

she has been a part of me for most of my life.

this weekend, as we celebrated the next chapter of another dear friend's life, i realized just how close we had become over the years. we were sitting at a table with strangers and ended up sharing a plate for bread. when asked about it, i simply replied with "we share a lot. it's fine." a little while later when we ordered a dessert to split, one of our new friends laughed saying, "you guys share everything, don't you?"

at the time, i thought "well, yeah. of course we do."

but the truth is that we haven't always shared everything with each other. we found that out on the car ride home from the bachelorette party. we ended up sharing stories that somehow were never shared before. she almost cried, she was laughing so hard after learning about one of my high school "relationships" that she never knew about. and i wasn't the only one spilling the secrets. i found out about not one, but two different adventures i never knew about before.

we laughed so hard.

it was like old times. ...just like old times.

we even stayed at my parents' house, in the little room downstairs with two twin beds so we could relive the slumber party days of old. i had my best friend back again. no kids. no husband. no worries. no time constraints. just us, hanging out and enjoying life together. i haven't laughed that hard in a long time.

she is my friend for life. forever and ever, amen.
and for that, i am the luckiest girl in the world.


"if only the world wouldn't get in the way
if only people would just let you play.
they say you're both being fools
you're breaking all the rules
they can't understand, the magic of your wonderland
when you're the best of friends"
~ fox and the hound, best of friends

bigger the dog, bigger the poop

when adopting a new canine friend, it's important to weigh your options.

i wanted a big dog, but not so big that i couldn't handle it. little dogs freak me out a little bit. they simply aren't....enough. i wanted more than a dog the size of a football that i could kick across the room but not so big that i couldn't carry him if he broke a leg or something and i needed to get him to the vet.

when i saw pete's picture i knew he was for me. he was so handsome. and sweet. and he was just the right size. 35 lbs of pure muscle and love. he was affectionate and easy going and it just seemed perfect.

through the process of adopting and living with pete, i've learned a few things. the most important thing being that the bigger the dog, the more expensive their meds, the more food they eat, the bigger the poop to pick up. and picking up poop is gross. it smells and sometimes it's not solid enough to pick up quickly.

as pete has grown, so has the risk. he's a big dog. and sometimes he hurts me. he doesn't mean to, but he's stronger than he realizes and when 60 pounds of pure energy comes speeding toward you, well sometimes you get hurt. plus, i can no longer pick him up all by myself. if he got hurt while we were out on a trail, i wouldn't be able to carry him all on my own. i'd need help.

the bigger the dog, the bigger the poop.

relationships are the same.

it's important to pick one that's right for you. sure, a superficial relationship can be fun and it can pass the time alright. and risk is low with love like that. if you don't have to invest too much of yourself, then there's not much out on the line.

but me? i'd rather have a big love. and not the kind on HBO. i'm talking about a love that is big enough to handle me and all of my complexities. a man with the right sized personality. a man who gives the right amount of affection. a man who is the perfect fit. a man who's ...enough.

and the longer the relationship lasts, the more it grows. as the connection deepens, the more things can go wrong. feelings can get messy and the gray area of love can get wider and wider.

as the relationship grows, the risk for heartbreak grows as well. break up in a month? no big deal. i can heal on my own. break up after a couple years? i won't be able to fix it on my own.  i'll need help.  ...the bigger the dog, the bigger the risk.

ask anyone who's found the right thing, though and they'll agree: it's risky, but the pay off is worth it.

i wouldn't trade pete for anything.

stormy weather

for the past few summers, marisa and i have diligently planned our infamous "summer concert series". our series have included quite the eclectic array of genres. we've seen everyone from james taylor and carole king to mumford and sons to darius rucker and brad paisley to g love and jason mraz. i've missed our concert series this summer

there's something about the energy of a live show that invigorates my soul in a way nothing else can. the stories between songs. the banter between bandmates. the comradery of the crowd. and the falling of the stage?

a storm blew in during a concert tonight at the state fair causing the entire stage rigging to fall forward into the crowd, reportedly killing four people and injuring many more. it happened between performers, so luckily neither sara barreilles or sugarland were on the stage when it happened.

i immediately check twitter to see if my friend who was in attendance tonight was okay and see this tweet from a journalist that i follow: "weather. flight delays. meh. just wanna be home." then i check sugarland's website to see if they are making any comments on the incident, which they did - asking for prayers. one fan commented on the blog with, "are you positive the show is going to be cancelled tomorrow??"

cathleen's irritated with flight delays and spooner336 is worried about her date tomorrow night while we're dealing with deaths here in indianapolis.

what storm is in your life right now? is it the irritating kind? is it the kind that delays your arrival time at the next destination? is it the kind that makes you change your plans? is it the killing kind? is it killing you? are you watching it kill someone else, right before your eyes?

because it's all the same storm. it's just about perspective.

did cathleen know that the very storms that delayed her flight were murderous and unapologetic? no. from where she's sitting there are probably blue skies. we don't always see the bigger picture. life is a precious gift and nights like tonight are harsh reminders of the fragility of that gift. we can choose to be aggravated by the menial annoyances or we can remember that sometimes, though we can't see it, there are bigger storms at play.



"in the moment that one thing ends
is the same time that one begins
and return as we must
we are ashes to dust, amen."
hello, sugarland

bully breed

"heavy-elka." i was ten years old and a boy in the lunch line at school called me a nasty name. i don't think i had ever thought about my appearance before that. that was the moment that i noticed my weight, my hair, my clothes. that was the moment that i become self-conscious. it was the moment i lost my childhood innocence.

the name didn't catch on. i don't know why, whether it was friends or teachers who put a stop to it, but no one ever called me that name again. and yet, eighteen years later, i can still hear the malicious tone in luke's voice as he called me fat in front of my friends.

i was lucky. sure, there were days that i hated school just as much as the next kid, but i was never a victim of ceaseless bullying or social scorn. kids today don't have a chance. maybe that's overly pessimistic, but it's the truth. the disparity between the haves and the have nots is so great that there doesn't seem to be any middle ground any more. financially, technologically, socially - it's too easy to see who's got it and who doesn't.

bullying today is out of control. i was just telling someone the other day that i am so glad that i didn't grow up in today's world of facebook and twitter and youtube. i would not have survived. or at least my reputation wouldn't have. people can be cruel. and once it's out there on the internet, it's out there for good. nothing is private anymore and bullying has moved from silly name calling in the lunch line to tireless harassment through a variety of media methods. luke's lunch line "heavy-elka" would have turned into dozens of kids posting such nastiness on facebook and twitter then texting me nonstop until my parents let me drop out of school and i end up in emergency rehab for an eating disorder.

according to his papers, pete is an "american bulldog mix", but ask anyone who has ever met him and they'll place him in the following: pit bull terrier, american staffordshire terrier, boxer, american bulldog - bully breeds, all of them.

before pete, the main pup in my life was omen, my brother and sister-in-law's great dane-pit bull mix. in our family, omen is known as my boyfriend. for some unknown reason this dog loves me. i mean LOVES me. when i visit them in wilmington, omen stays by my side during the day and sleeps with me at night. in his earlier years he would nearly tackle me to the ground and cover me with kisses when i walked through the door.

every preconceived idea i had of pit bulls flew out the window when omen stormed into my life. then came a picture of pete in an email from a friend of a friend. "anybody want to adopt this puppy?" they asked. i didn't see a scary pit bull. i saw a beautiful puppy who needed a home and instantly i knew that his home was with me.

i'll never forget the first time i saw him. my friend becca came with me for the introductions and we fell in love with him almost immediately. he nearly tackled me in the same way omen used to when i walked through the door to meet him. pete was only 35 pounds at the time, so not nearly big enough to actually get me to the ground. only scrappy enough to pull out a hoop earring and stretch it to submission.

i did everything i was supposed to - i played with his toes, put my hands in his food bowl, stole the rag bone he was playing with and watched his jaws as he interacted. he didn't care at all. sure, he was a bully breed but he wasn't aggressive.

bully breeds got their name not for being "bullies" but because their unifying ancestor, the molosser, was known for baiting bulls in 19th century england. they got their bad reputation in the eighties when gangs trained them for aggressive protection. the fact is that these dogs are loyal animals who are unwaveringly faithful to the ones they love. they desperately want to please their owners and will diligently train accordingly.

take pete for example. we were a mess before swiftdogz, but through their canine behavioral training we learned how to communicate. i learned how to tell pete what i expected from him and he quickly followed instruction. all he needed was some structure and consistency.

bullies in school need the same thing. they need love. and not the superficial kind who provide wine coolers for a middle school birthday party because they want to be cool or the fanatical kind who care more about the trophies their athlete or mathlete bring home than the relationship they share. like pete, these are loyal, strong-willed, self-conscious children who desperately want to be noticed by someone who loves them, who critically need authentic loving support, structure and consistency.

what if every parent had to complete a communication and adoration training before giving birth? what if we cultivated supportive cognizant communities of love, rather than competitive societies of greed? well, then i think we could eradicate the bullying problem in our schools (and at our dog parks).

lost and found

have you ever put something into safe keeping so safely that you forget where you put it?

i do it a lot. you would think that i would have learned my lesson by now. i have a horrible memory, so it's no surprise that i would forget where i put important things that aren't used regularly.

today i lost something. something really important. truly very important. a document that can't be reproduced. a one of a kind. it's gone. i can't find it anywhere. i have seen it since the big move, so i know it made it to indianapolis. what's really pathetic is that the reason i know it was in this apartment at one point was because i've already lost it once since moving here. now it's gone again. and i need it. like, now.

i am so frustrated. more than that i'm disappointed. and disappointment is so much more self-deprecating than frustration.

unfortunately, i don't just misplace things, i misplace people sometimes too.  the down side to loving so many fantastic people on this earth is that it is impossible to frequently communicate with every friendship over the years.

there are friends that i put into safe keeping, so to speak. there are 2 minute conversation friends and there are 2 hour conversation friends. it's hard to find 2 hours in a normal day, so i keep the calls at bay. i wait to call until i have time to really devote to the conversation. theoretically, like putting important documents in hiding, this is a great plan. theoretically, it means that i care about those conversations too much to cut them short.

but sometimes i put these conversations on hold for so long that i lose touch with the friendship. i miss important birthdays or anniversaries. i miss life altering moments that occur between phone calls. ...i miss life.

eventually, though, i make the call. or they do. and we talk. we catch up on each others' lives and we swap stories. we take up every moment of those 2 hour conversations with true dialogue, a sincere communion of hearts and minds.

in those moments, i find the meaning of true friendship, even if those moments are few and too far between. in those moments, i am found.

hopefully i'll find the document i was looking for too...

perfectly lonely

to all the mothers out there who thought i would end up with their sons: please stop telling me.

although it is flattering to know that they like me enough to consider being my mother-in-law (and in most cases, i would absolutely love to call them family because of the joy they bring to my life), well, it's awkward and sometimes hurtful.  i don't know how to respond.  in some cases, i did date their son.  maybe their son was a jerk.  or maybe i screwed it up (i'm good at that).  or maybe we were or are great friends.  or maybe i barely even knew them (those are the really awkward ones...).

years ago one of my friends told me, "oh, we're sure that one of us is going to eventually marry you. we just haven't decided which one yet."  i could have punched him in the face.  i didn't.  ...but i could have.  i refuse to be anyone's consolation prize.

if i had a dollar for every time someone said to me, "oh i was sure you would end up with __(fill in the blank with pretty much any guy i've ever known)__" i'd be rich.  i'm sure that it is usually, if not always said with the best intentions.  however, i can't help but fight the urge for a violent response.

because it makes me feel like i failed somehow.  like, even though maybe i wasn't ever interested in even dating some of these guys, i failed by not somehow inspiring them to fall in love with me over the years.  like i wasn't good enough.  like i'm still not good enough.  or like being single is a crime, somehow.  like they think there must be something wrong with me because i'm single.

"oh honey, how are YOU still single?" has the same effect.

the truth is that i'm perfectly happy being single right now.  i can do whatever i want, whenever i want without a care in the world.  "a simple little kind of free" as john mayer puts it.  it took me fifteen minutes to make the decision to move across the country to take a new job.  there would have been a lot more to that decision, had there been a man in my life at the time. 

eventually, i will probably end up meeting an incredible man, get married and settle down, but for now i'm enjoying playing the field, spending time figuring out who i am and who it is i'm looking for, which, i'm pretty sure is not any of the previously mentioned sons.  i mean, it could be, but probably (almost absolutely) not.