the most wonderful time of the year.

october, november, and december are without a doubt my favorite 3-month stretch of the year. fall is my favorite season, thanksgiving my favorite holiday, and christmas has my favorite vacation.  there is also a magical quality about this time of year; it is a time when hearts seem to soften and kindness seems more prevalent.  and for me, it is a season that carries overwhelming feelings of gratitude.  there have been many times in the last weeks where i thought my heart would burst in recognition of the wonderful things in my life.  and perhaps unsurprising to many, but very surprising to me, if one were to find a connection between each of these occurrences, it would be that each were associated with people.

i have not always been a people person.  for a significant portion of my life, i was on the closed-hearted end of the spectrum.  people hurt you, people betrayed you, people brought pain.  i would only invest as far as perceived emotional safety and while i was protected from real heartache, i was also devoid of true connection.  only in the last few years has my heart slowly opened to the possibility that indeed, people can and do hurt you, but they are more often the greatest source of joy in this world.  such a revelation has come slowly and not without bumps, but it has been the unfailing kindness and patience of my various families--immediate, extended, work, and adopted-- that has coaxed me into believing that i have the capacity to love and, more profoundly, be loved.

i am deeply grateful for my immediate family who is bonded by so much more than genetics; for my extended family, especially those here in texas, who have been an example of service and compassion; for my work family who makes it a joy to go to school every day, who makes me laugh so much it hurts, and who has taught me what it means to support one another; and for my adopted families who have opened their homes and welcomed me like i am of their own.

to all my families: thank you.  you continue to bless my life beyond measure.

merry christmas.

same same.

once upon a time, i went to cambodia.  and it was amazing.  

we spent our first four days in phnom penh orienting to the culture and history, as well as seeing a glimpse of the effects of urban poverty in the capital.  it was impossible to keep from falling in love with the children we met.  despite their most humble of circumstances, they were a constant stream of laughs and smiles. i'm sure our time spent reading and playing with the kids helped us more than it helped them.

tree at the killing fields

royal palace in phnom penh.

one of our students with the kids
at pour un sourire d'enfant

from phnom penh, we bounced our way about 250 km north via bus, stopping at spider village to eat, you guess it spiders.  after a stop in kratie to sleep, we finished our travel to koh preah--a rural village on an island in the middle of the mekong--via boat.  in a pelting rain, no less. we arrived soaked, but anxious to start working with the village on their eco-tourism project. for a week, we worked side-by-side with the locals, digging holes for latrines, mixing concrete for water tanks, stacking concrete cylinders for the water tanks and latrines, laying bricks the outside of the latrines, nailing siding on the frame of the community center, and much, much more. when we weren't working, we toured around the island with an adventurous cambodian off-roading experience, enjoyed a steam bath prepared by the local women, learned dancing and weaving, participated in a ceremony of offerings at the local wat accompanied by a blessing from the monk, and enjoyed building relationships with the people of koh preah.  and what amazing people they are.  even though they speak such little english and we speak even less khmer, their actions communicated their generosity, humility, and kindness.  they took us into their homes and treated us like their own.  using squatters, bathing with a water scoop, eating rice three meals a day, sweating it out at night-- it was all worth it to spend time working with and learning from these people.  though i sincerely hope otherwise, it is entirely possible that i will never see them again.  but what is sure is that they reminded me of a great, great lesson: as part of humanity, we are, in essence, the same, regardless of background, race, religion, gender, culture, or socioeconomic status.  and our membership in humanity gives us a responsibility to help those around us in whatever way we are able.  the people of koh preah taught me this.  and i will never, ever forget them.

final sunset on koh preah.

Homestay on Koh Preah

after another boat and bus ride, we made it to siem reap and took on the role of tourist in the angkor temples.  the temples are stunning-- a reflection of a great, great civilization.  at one point, one of the students asked, "why don't we ever learn about the khmer empire in school?" a very astute observation, if you ask me.

tree on temple at ta prahm

after a few days in siem reap, we headed back to phnom penh for a last night in cambodia and began in the long flight home.  the kids were marvelous and it was wonderful to spend time with them.  they were great travelers, even though most of them had never been in such circumstances before.  i hope they absorb what they learned on the trip and make it part of who they are.

in summary: this trip was fantastic. and hard, especially emotionally.  the bloody history of cambodia and the poverty that exists is hard to try and understand. but me thinks the trip's difficulty is what made it so incredible.  i have a hunch that it will take a while to understand and process exactly how this trip impacted me, but i can state with certainty that i am changed.

here are the links of the organizations we associated with:
Cambodian Rural Development Team
Westline School
Pour un sourire d'enfant
Aziza's Place

and a big thanks to students shoulder to shoulder for giving me the opportunity of a lifetime!

upcoming adventures.

another post in the denver airport...

  

i'm heading back to texas after a weekend in colorado with this organization: students shoulder to shoulder (SStS).  in about 10 days, i, along with another teacher, will be taking off with 9 high school students to cambodia for a three-week service trip.  i'm feeling many emotions: anxious, excited, unsure, eager.... but above all i am feeling grateful.  

i am grateful i got to spend this past weekend with some really, really fantastic people in a beautiful place.  SStS has courses all over the world and all the course instructors gathered outside vail, co.  it was a perfect weekend to unplug and enjoy the surroundings.  it was also a good reminder that there are genuinely kind people who truly believe that every one can make a difference in the world around them.  they gave me a good dose of courage as i take on this new adventure.   

i am grateful i get to help teenagers engage in meaningful service.  we will be working with this non-profit in koh preah, a remote village on an island in the mekong river.  our project will be to help with the construction of a community eco-tourism center.    

i am grateful to SStS for the opportunity to instruct a course despite my inexperience.

i am grateful i get to travel to a new place. 

i am grateful for a job that gives me the chance to pursue other passions and interests during the summer.

(slightly unrelated) i am grateful for mountains and time i got to spend in them this weekend.  they are the ultimate rejuvenator carriers of perspective and peace.

starting june 20th, you follow our progress in cambodia by reading our course blog here.

earth day.

for spring break this year i decided to venture to the previously unchartered territory of santa fe, new mexico.  the trip deserves a whole separate post, but suffice it to say that i felt much like jack in the movie "newsies" when he sings about this marvelous place.  it truly is the land of enchantment.  one of the things that most resonated with me about the whole trip was the native american approach to our mother earth.  they revere her.  they honor her.  they understand that the purpose of the earth is not to simply provide for our human consumption, but there is reciprocal relationship between man and the planet.  man is responsible to give back what it takes, to preserve, and to enjoy the beauty along with the resources.

as it is earth day, i pay homage to this most marvelous planet on which we live.  i, no doubt, can improve on my respect for mother earth.  i can most certainly consume less, and give back more.  upcoming generations should have the same opportunities to give and to receive from the earth as i do.    the world is a sacred place.  without a doubt, i feel most connected to my spirituality when i surrounded by the grandeur of nature.  the remote corners of the earth allow my soul to reconnect to the things most important.  nature calms and rejuvenates.  it humbles.  it brings possibility and discovery.  it takes my breath away.  and i am most grateful for it.   

therapy.

i've learned to be self-aware enough to know when a depressive cycle is coming.  it's kind of like a huge texas thunderstorm rolling into your mind.  you see it building on the horizon-- a dark black cloud full of rain and lightning and thunder, gaining strength as it moves closer.  you know the storm will arrive-- there is nothing you can do to stop it-- but it's more a question of when.  and how powerful it will be.

thankfully, this particular bout seems to be on its way out.  it lasted about a month, with two particularly bad weeks-- relatively short, but strong.  the storm starts with sprinkling rain-- the days when it's a bit harder to get out of bed and there's a bit more negative self talk than usual. i still have fight in me, so i focus on exercising and eating well in hopes of limiting the effects.  but as the storm gets stronger, i get weaker.  the sprinkling rain turns to a steady stream, and while i still try and focus on the usual coping tools, i start to tire of the battle.  i start to withdraw.  my appetite disappears.  i have no energy to exercise. and the downward spiral quickens.  this is conveniently when the brunt of the storm hits--the steady stream of rain turns into a downpour.  lightning and thunder accompany it.  then comes the hail.  old demons pay their visit and my mind becomes its own worst enemy.  all i can do is hope to keep myself together long enough to make it through a work day.  friends offer help that i irrationally push away. no one should be around me when i am like this.  i ooze darkness.  i sleep 14 hours a night and am still exhausted.  the nasty, cold weather reflects what's happening in my head.

one week turns into two.  existing is a burden.  the thing required to help me heal is the very thing that is sick.  the small, rational corner of my head knows i can't continue this way and live, so i pull myself together long enough to organize an escape.  i barely pack enough food, i forget a change of clothes, but i start driving to the mountains, hoping to find peace.  the hiking, the mountains, the stars, sleeping in a tent-- nature proves to be a decent therapist.  the storm seems to break.  the dark cloud enshrouding my mind starts to move out slowly.  sunshine peeks through.  rationality begins to return and i start to feel pieces of myself come back.  more time outside helps.  i find motivation to exercise again.  people send perfectly-timed messages of encouragement and love.  the good days once again outnumber the bad.  and the storm is not gone, but i seem to have found an umbrella.

some may wonder why i'm sharing about the dark days as it's not a particularly happy topic.  truthfully, it's helpful for me to write about -- it is part of my reality and it's part of my mortal experience.  and maybe it's helpful for someone to read-- to know there's someone who understands.  and if it's not, that's ok, too.

escape.

a couple of weekends ago, i escaped to the wichita mountains.  for 24 hours peace replaced the turmoil,  serenity replaced the struggle,  perspective replaced the lack thereof, and things just made sense. 

"going to the mountains is going home." -john muir

MGB

It is truly amazing how one meal at Wagamama along the Thames can bring people together.  As I remember it, that meal in London was when M, G, and I hit it off.  I only remember a bits of conversation from the evening, but I do distinctly recall laughing until my stomach was sore.  I also remember thinking that maybe I had found some people to quench the almost unbearable loneliness I’d been experiencing on study abroad.

After that fateful night, the three of us continued to bond over walks through Paris, frites, swans, and swords in Belgium, fashion shows, gelato, and Michelangelo’s David in Italy, a cat and electric fence in Switzerland, trips to the Louvre for Art History class, and many, many other experiences that can only happen in Europe.  Self-titled MGB, we formed a group that, given our personality differences, one might think wouldn’t really mesh.  M and G are much classier than this girl, but somehow it all works.  Aside from being excellent travelling companions, whether they knew it or not the M and G helped me heal from wounds inflicted by others less considerate.  I will always be grateful for it.

This past weekend, I flew out to Utah to celebrate the M of MGB becoming the R of RGB (she got married, you see).  Though the time together was much not nearly long enough, reuniting with the two of them was priceless-- worth much, much more than the money spent on a place ticket.  It’s been a few years since we’ve all been in the same room, but as we sat and chatted for just a short time I felt the old sense of comfort that true friendship holds return to my heart.  It was so good to share space with them. 

As I watched R dance with her new husband at the reception, I realized how much I’ve missed of R and G’s lives since we got home from study abroad and especially since I moved to Texas. I regret not making more of an effort to know-- not sending more emails or making more phone calls.  While we have all changed, I hope the bond we formed in a few months in Europe and the intermittent gatherings since then are enough for them to know that I will always consider them dear, dear friends-- ones with whom I hope to share many more of life's adventures.