Someone tell me why this world is so f*#ked up
Someone show me a reason for such vast extreme
such beauty
such atrocities
such silly details so many of us sweat along the way.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Things I learned from a 2-year-old today
-Waking up with a smile is the best way to wake up.
-Little things are worth getting excited over.
-Food is much better when shared.
-The world of imagination is never boring.
-Blue cake and abalone with tea must all be eaten in very large, cookie-monster-style bites.
-Some puddles we need help to cross. But most are worth splashing through.
-The point of the walk is not always to get to where you're going. Sometimes the point of the walk, is just to walk. Slow down. Look around.
And finally...
-Hugs fix everything.
-Little things are worth getting excited over.
-Food is much better when shared.
-The world of imagination is never boring.
-Blue cake and abalone with tea must all be eaten in very large, cookie-monster-style bites.
-Some puddles we need help to cross. But most are worth splashing through.
-The point of the walk is not always to get to where you're going. Sometimes the point of the walk, is just to walk. Slow down. Look around.
And finally...
-Hugs fix everything.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
The arts are an indicator species
When I served with my AmeriCorps team, we collectively spent over a hundred hours restoring a small fen in rural Indiana, all to save a specific type of butterfly.
"A butterfly?" you ask?
Why spend thousands of dollars in state and federal resources to sustain the survival of one kind of butterfly that, frankly, can't fly all that well?
Because for some odd reason, if that butterfly could thrive, so could the rest of the flora and fauna that shared its unique ecosystem. By working to sustain an environment that supported that fragile but beautiful creature--that indicator species--we also sustained everything around it.
The arts that butterfly. They are the indicator species for the health and vibrancy of our communities. Just as demographers look at the infant mortality rate of a country to determine how well they can protect and sustain the health of their populations, we must look at how much we value and support the arts to determine the health of our communities. The arts are where we define who we are, express what we dream, and explore what we experience. They are the place where unique ideas, dissenting opinions, and diverse experiences are first voiced. To say that we--as taxpayers, as community members, as Michiganders and as Americans--are willing to withdraw our support from the arts is to say that we have given up on living for great dreams in exchange for simply living. And that, as anyone will tell you, is no sustainable life at all.
As individuals and as a community we have a responsibility to support and protect the arts. In a state where our government arts funding equals out to be less than the cost of a cup of coffee for every man, woman, and child, we need to think about how much value the arts contribute to our lives, and how much we should contribute to the arts.
So if that guitar player on the street dreaming of cutting a record makes you smile on your way to work, or if your kid gets to know someone from a different background during a crafts project at your local library, think about how much value those experiences contribute to your life.
And call your representative; tell them to buy the arts another cup of coffee.
"A butterfly?" you ask?
Why spend thousands of dollars in state and federal resources to sustain the survival of one kind of butterfly that, frankly, can't fly all that well?
Because for some odd reason, if that butterfly could thrive, so could the rest of the flora and fauna that shared its unique ecosystem. By working to sustain an environment that supported that fragile but beautiful creature--that indicator species--we also sustained everything around it.
The arts that butterfly. They are the indicator species for the health and vibrancy of our communities. Just as demographers look at the infant mortality rate of a country to determine how well they can protect and sustain the health of their populations, we must look at how much we value and support the arts to determine the health of our communities. The arts are where we define who we are, express what we dream, and explore what we experience. They are the place where unique ideas, dissenting opinions, and diverse experiences are first voiced. To say that we--as taxpayers, as community members, as Michiganders and as Americans--are willing to withdraw our support from the arts is to say that we have given up on living for great dreams in exchange for simply living. And that, as anyone will tell you, is no sustainable life at all.
As individuals and as a community we have a responsibility to support and protect the arts. In a state where our government arts funding equals out to be less than the cost of a cup of coffee for every man, woman, and child, we need to think about how much value the arts contribute to our lives, and how much we should contribute to the arts.
So if that guitar player on the street dreaming of cutting a record makes you smile on your way to work, or if your kid gets to know someone from a different background during a crafts project at your local library, think about how much value those experiences contribute to your life.
And call your representative; tell them to buy the arts another cup of coffee.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Monday, February 09, 2009
Time
I have discovered what a luxury time can be. When I don't have to be in 20 different places at once, it's amazing how much I can get done. True, a busy schedule can be good motivation to get a lot done, but there definitely is that point when too much is too much.
Today I (temporarily) shoved one major thing off my plate; work. I'm sure it's going to bite me in the ass tomorrow, but without work, I was so productive. I got almost half of my do-on-the-weekends-except-I-don't-have-a-weekend list completed (which, given that this list has been growing exponentially since the first of January, is definitely saying something). It felt good to actually complete something, however minute it may really be. I felt more organized. more confident. more happy.
Tomorrow I will dive into the thick of it again. Maybe that's the trick, though. Not maybe, it is. I've always admired those who can give calm and full attention to one thing at one moment, despite the amount of chaos swirling around them.
Let's see if I can try that tomorrow.
Today I (temporarily) shoved one major thing off my plate; work. I'm sure it's going to bite me in the ass tomorrow, but without work, I was so productive. I got almost half of my do-on-the-weekends-except-I-don't-have-a-weekend list completed (which, given that this list has been growing exponentially since the first of January, is definitely saying something). It felt good to actually complete something, however minute it may really be. I felt more organized. more confident. more happy.
Tomorrow I will dive into the thick of it again. Maybe that's the trick, though. Not maybe, it is. I've always admired those who can give calm and full attention to one thing at one moment, despite the amount of chaos swirling around them.
Let's see if I can try that tomorrow.
Monday, February 02, 2009
More open than closed
I need to be more open than closed
say yes more often than I say no
and dare to always see the good first
take the risk
go
say yes more often than I say no
and dare to always see the good first
take the risk
go
