Feeling Ent-ish

I was thinking about this saying today, in the context of my own life. I was thinking that it is difficult to have both roots and wings at the same time... how can you fly while you're rooted to the ground? But then I had an epiphany! Maybe we're supposed to be Ents. You know, walking tree people. They have roots (or at least root-like appendages) AND they walk around! Very slowly and with great deliberation (sometimes a little too much), but move they do.

Our parents are supposed to give us roots, establish boundaries and a strong foundation for our character, and also wings, so we can continue to form ourselves as we mature and take charge of our own direction. Someday we will do the same for our own children (many of my friends already are). What a challenge!

Right now I feel like I'm about to launch myself into the air, and I'm just hoping that my roots can make the jump. I suppose I'm already a grown-up to many people, but every time I encounter another one of those launch pads into adult life I feel like a kid again. I wonder if that will continue for the rest of my life... there are loads of grown-up milestones ahead of me... will I ever actually feel like I've accomplished the task of Growing Up? I kind of don't think so. Even though I often go through life accomplishing daily tasks of a normal adult with perfectly acceptable aptitude, when I stop and think about life I'm always amazed at how much more is left to go! That's a good thing, right? "Unless you become as a little child..." and all that? 

Liebster Award

My very good friend Rosalie, of the Sed Noli Modo blog, seems to have nominated me for the Liebster Award. What is the Liebster Award, you may ask (I did)? 

The Liebster Award was designed as a way to recognize and increase the readership of smaller blogs (when it was created, this was under 3,000 followers, but now this has been lowered to no more than 200 followers). It also gives old readers a chance to learn something new about the blogger who receives it.

I am very flattered that Rosalie, a young mom of one adorable little man (my godson!), who is probably Supermom, nominated me. It has been more than a year than I have written... maybe this is her secret plan to get me going again. Thank you for your kind words (and the kick in my writer's pants ;-)! 

__________________________________________________________

The Official Rules as of 2013

The requirements for accepting this award are:

• Post the Liebster award graphic on your site.
• Thank the blogger who nominated the blog for a Liebster Award and link back to their blog.
• Write 11 facts about yourself so people who discover your blog through the Liebster post will learn more about you.
• Answer the 11 questions from the post of the person who nominated you.
• Nominate 9 other blogs with 200 or fewer followers for a Liebster award by posting a comment on their blog and linking back to the Liebster post.
• Create 11 questions for your nominees to answer in their Liebster post.

Here goes...

11 Facts about Me

1. I have worked as a lifeguard, summer camp coordinator, swim lesson instructor, researcher/writer/copyeditrix of an automobile safety book, executive assistant, library assistant (cutting up books and gluing them back together), au pair, manager of a pool, and nanny, and I have not yet reached the quarter-century mark as far as age. I kind of feel like a jack-of-all-trades. Currently I am nannying for my aunt and uncle, helping out with their 8-year-old who is my BCF (best cousin forever), and constantly-happy 2-year-old. It is a very good adventure.

2. I love languages, but I don't consider myself fluent in anything other than English, although I have studied Latin, Spanish, German, Old and Middle English, as well as a teensy tiny bit of Tolkien's Elvish (yes, I am a nerd). This is mostly because I reach a point where I develop a fear that further study would ruin the instinctive grasp of the basics that I already enjoy. Shame on me... someday I will push through that and master another language. I intend to raise my future children as close to bilingually as possible for a household of native English speakers.

3. Growing up, when I found myself alone at home, I would often don an old long skirt from my mom's college days, an old shrunken t-shirt, and a pink kerchief on my head, blast some music in the living room, and dance around the house, cleaning and tidying up. I liked to pretend I was Cinderella. (I still do, but I haven't found a good outfit yet, since I got rid of the old costume)

4. I love drawing, although I don't do nearly enough of it. Landscapes are my favorite, because they usually turn out closer to the picture in my head than people do. 

5. I have a few habits that I stick to as closely as possible, although it doesn't bother me if other people don't. One of them is how I eat McDonald's chicken nuggets: I eat them in order from most circular to most boot-shaped. No exceptions, except one horrible time one was hiding... *glare* messed up my perfect record. The other, that has some practical thought behind it, is how I load the dishwasher. There's a method to each section, but the one that most people notice is the silverware: I load them with sharp knives furthest back (so little kids can't grab them in passing) and pointed down (SERIOUSLY, why do people load the knives blade-up? I would stab myself every time!), then forks, then spoons, then baby silverware if applicable, then odds and ends like measuring spoons and whisks.

6. I never thought I was a city girl until I went to a small Catholic college in the Midwest, where I was informed that I most certainly was. However, my living location of preference is somewhere between the suburbs and the country, with big yards and neighbors for the kids to play with, and a grocery store within a 10-minute drive or so.

7. Dorothy Sayers' translation of Dante is the only one I like. Others have tried to convert me, but no one can move me from her beautiful poetry and well-researched footnotes.

8. I am chronically bad with directions. I cannot even count the number of times I've gotten lost or taken a wrong turn since moving out here 3 months ago, and that is even with GPS. Please do not ask me to navigate if you don't want to take the scenic route.

9. One of my favorite gifts I have ever received (besides poetry from my wonderful boyfriend) is sealing wax and a really neat seal with Y-shaped vines. I write letters just so I can close the envelopes with it. :-)

10. I love to cook and rarely use recipes, although I have very bad luck with garlic bread. I think I made it successfully for the first time in my life just two weeks ago... I avoided burning it by literally standing in front of the oven and staring at it the entire time.

11. I love shopping. If you ever need your wardrobe to be refreshed but don't want to go out and brave the stores, send me! Seriously.

Okay, clearly I was getting tired there... gotta work my writing muscles back into shape gradually. And now I will answer Rosalie's questions:

1. What one experience has done the most to shape the way you view the world?
Gosh, only one? How can I even choose? Life is such a continuous thing, always shaping, molding, and prodding you, picking out one experience is kind of like picking a favorite book (impossible for a bookworm like me). I guess I would say that homeschooling has shaped me most. It enabled me to have more conversations with my mom than I might have otherwise, brought good books (both classics and really good children's lit) into my path, and gave me the time to direct my own learning. All those Sunday afternoons spent reading book after book after our almost-weekly post-church library excursions certainly formed my worldview and heavily influenced the way I directed my character development.

2. How did you learn to cook? Do you have a favorite dish to make?
Mostly by observing my mom and experimenting on my own. She has always been very good about allowing us kids the occasional day of free rein in the kitchen, making whatever we want with whatever we have on hand. That is still my favorite way to cook: looking around and using what we have, rather than planning things out days in advance. I don't know that I have a favorite dish, but I do make a mean pork tenderloin.

3. What is one thing you are glad that you knew when you were 20?
How to travel. I spent the Fall of my 20th year studying abroad in Austria, and it was one of the best experiences of my life. I was thankful time and time again that I knew how to pack and how to plan a trip.

4. Name the most important piece of furniture in your home. Why?
I'm not really sure which home to answer this for, since there is my family's home back in CA and then my current home out here with my relatives... but I think probably in general I would say the dining room/kitchen table, where family meals are shared. Mealtime is one of the best times to sit down together and be a family-- share the events of the day, thoughts on whatever is happening or being planned, and engage in wild storytelling romps with the crazy siblings. :-)

5. If you have kids, what part of being a parent do you most enjoy? If not, what do you think would be the best part?
I don't have a husband or kids of my own yet, but I joke that I am getting plenty of mommy training with this nanny job. My favorite part so far is rocking with a happy baby, reading books or singing songs together.

6. What song or piece of music did you listen to most recently? What do you think of it?
A variety of country music on the radio. I love blasting the upbeat ones with the windows rolled down and the sun shining up above. Makes me happy :-)

7. Do you believe it is possible that there are life forms on other planets?
Yes, I believe it's possible. I'm not really convinced either way, but I'm open to the possibility. Kind of arrogant to think otherwise.

8. Of the places you've never been, where would you most like to travel?
Switzerland. There are many places I want to revisit, but Switzerland is the one on my bucket list I have yet to encounter. However, I have no desire to ski, so a visit should probably be in the summer.

9. You're holding a sleeping baby, dinner needs to go in the oven, and you don't have time-manipulative superpowers. What do you do?
Do as much as I can with only one hand, then carefully put the baby down and resign myself to a symphony of screams if necessary while the finishing touches are done. With great haste.

10. When was the last time you danced?
Sometime in February, I went to a salsa dance with some friends at their Mormon young adult group. It was great! I miss dancing with Joey though... it has been waaaaaay too long...


11. Do you have, or would you want, any pets?
I do not have any pets, and I am fine with that. I would be okay with a friendly old hypoallergenic outdoor dog or a smallish tank of attractive fish. Or possibly something else smallish to medium-size, that doesn't make me sneeze, is not stinky, is friendly but not overly demonstrative (i.e., no jumping on people and licking excessively), and preferably cleans up its own excrement. But never, ever, under any circumstances, do I want a cat.


And here is my blogroll of Liebster nominees, people I hope are not too startled to know that I haunt their webpages:

Laura, of Laura's Drop in the Ocean, my sister and an enthusiastic mover and shaker in the pro-life cause.

Marie, of A Scribbler's Reverie, who writes about being Catholic, American, and a young mom. I love her informative, inspirational, and conversational tone, and respect her opinion quite a bit.

Hannah, of Still Round the Corner, a delightful and history-filled take on ye olde Austria travel blog. I wish she had time to narrate her everyday life like this.

Jamie, of Regarding Beauty, just starting a new blog, which I know will be full of the sweet things in life. 

And here I fail, because all the other blogs I would have nominated seem to have been removed by their authors. Sad day.  In any case, here are the 11 questions for those mentioned here:

1. What is your fondest memory of something that happened when you were away from home?
2. A tall man in a blue police box lands in your vicinity and asks if you want to join him for an adventure. What do you do?
3. What is the best thing you have ever tasted?
4. How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie pop?
5. What was the most inspiring view you ever saw, and where did you see it?
6. Do you have a favorite poem, and if so, what is it? If you're not a poetry sort of person, what is your favorite short story?
7. Name one book from your childhood that stuck with you, that you plan on (or already do) reading over and over with your children.
8. Musical guilty pleasure. Please share.
9. Describe an outfit you currently own in which you feel most confident and fabulous. I encourage you to wear it at the nearest applicable opportunity.
10. What is your favorite rainy-day activity?
11. Name one person you admire and respect, who has influenced who you are today.

Addendum to "Hungry"

I came across an excellent assessment of The Hunger Games which I feel compelled to share. This  post from the "Father talks too fast" blog says everything I meant to say and more.  Take a moment to read!

Hungry.

There's been a whole lot of hype going on about The Hunger Games for a while now, and a few weeks ago I finally gave in and started reading them. It took me forever to get through the beginning of the second book, so I only just finished them the day before yesterday. Ever since then, I've been trying to figure out exactly what I think of them. They were certainly gripping and entertaining, in a grim sort of way, and I would like to see the movie. However, I can't get rid of this nagging feeling that I shouldn't just go all-out and gush about how wonderful they are. I think it's probably that they aren't wonderful. They're horrific. The pain and sadness and inhumanity encompassed in the story are gut-wrenching in the extreme. Normally, I would dismiss this type of book as somewhat entertaining but too pessimistic to be valuable, but I'm going to try to delve a little deeper.

***Warning: there are almost certainly going to be spoilers ahead. Stop reading now if you don't want to know anything about how the story ends!***

In thinking about the books, my biggest question was "what was the point?" There doesn't really seem to be much of a moral to the story, and there wasn't a huge amount of character development either. I mean, the characters do change and develop, but they don't grow from their experience, they're just hurt and kind of muddle along afterwards, if they even live. Eventually, though, I arrived at the conclusion that the point of The Hunger Games must be as a warning. A warning not to harden our hearts, a warning not to engage in nuclear warfare, and most of all as a warning not to get caught up in entertainment at the expense of our humanity. I think it's ironic that the series is taken as simple entertainment by the majority of people. Not many people these days think or care about the point, purpose, or value of anything that amuses them.

If taken as a cautionary tale, I can see the value of these books. If not, however, I would have a harder time justifying my enjoyment of them. I have to admit that I do prefer stories that have happy endings, or at least those in which some sort of redeeming value or revelation is reached to make a less-happy ending worthwhile. This book lacks either, and that's the main reason I have some reservations. From the beginning the reader knows that Katniss is going to have to choose between Gale and Peeta, or that she'll continue to be conflicted until one dies and the choice is taken away. In one sense the ending was good, because she retained the ability to choose and was not a puppet of the Capitol or the new republic in that way. But in another sense it was dissatisfying because her rejection of the inhumanity of the Capitol is incomplete, in that  despite her words to Peeta, her decision appears to be based purely on logic rather than love, that her only motivation is that Peeta's compassion and steadiness (assuming he recovered pretty fully after he was "hijacked") is better for her than Gale's fire.  Maybe that's all she's capable of after experiencing so much horror, or maybe she truly grows to love him beyond the scope of the books, but the ending just felt messy, incomplete, and strangely devoid of emotion. In short, it left me hungry for something more satisfying.

It also bothers me that people keep saying "May the odds be ever in your favor". Life may have been ruled by chance (not really) in the books, but ours are certainly not. Why in the world is anyone emulating a custom of a cruel and decadent society?

Prayer.

I've decided to share some prayers here throughout this Lenten season. I don't know how much they're worth to anyone besides me, but I think many prayers are meant to be shared, and if they touch a single heart I will be glad to have been an instrument in the hands of God. Below is a sort of meditation-turned-prayer on the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, which was inspired by a discussion on the heart during my Philosophy of the Human Person class.  It's probably kind of disjointed since it doesn't follow my complete thought process, but I'll let it speak for itself.

***********************

You who are at the heart of all things, help me to know my own heart.
Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, we venerate you because in You is the pinnacle of humanity, the perfection of the core of our nature, help us to strive always for that perfection of heart we see so evidently in You.
In Your Heart oh Lord resides the seat of Your mercy, help us to trust in Your infinite mercy and love.

My heart cries out to one akin but elevated beyond my potential.
In You is the secret of humanity.
Whisper this secret into the inner sanctuary of my true self, that I may gain true wisdom.
You are wise beyond all measure and Your will is absolute,
but it is Your Heart alone that allows us a glimpse into our true selves, as a reflection of You.
Oh Lord my God, take up residence in my heart. I yearn for the touch of my Creator, Lover, and Confidante.
Amen.

Army Strong.

Today is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent. This morning my family and I went to morning Mass and then walked over to a nearby abortion clinic, starting off this year's 40 Days for Life campaign with prayer. As we approached the clinic, we saw faces peek around the corner, followed by a number of clinic escorts. They "put their game faces on" and positioned themselves near us, their blue vests armor against the barbs they hoped we'd fling. Anger shone forth from each eye, and whispered conferences showed us that they were preparing themselves for battle.

Little did they know that the battle had already begun. It began on our walk, as we prayed the Stations of the Cross. It began on the steps of the church, as the deacon led us in prayer. It began during the Mass, in which the church was filled with children who miraculously made it out of the womb despite the dangers posed by those blue-clad envoys of death and the hostile society that surrounds them. This battle began long long ago, with the Fall of Man and even in the Rebellion of the Angels. We continued it today with simple prayer.

Today we heard the call of our Captain in the words of the priest, who bade us clothe ourselves in the armor of self-denial. This is what Lent is all about: ridding ourselves of weaknesses, strengthening our souls in virtue, taking up arms as soldiers for Christ. Pope Benedict XVI's Lenten address calls us to "be concerned for each other, to stir a response in love and good works" (Heb 10:24) and strive always to walk together with our brothers and sisters towards holiness, with a mind towards reciprocity and the effects each action, good or bad, has on each of us an individual and on the Body of Christ to which we belong. In short, to practice charity.

This is why the abortion clinic escorts this morning were disappointed, and will continue to be, for the only battle they are prepared to fight is with swords, but the real battle is raging in their hearts. We must put on our armor of self-denial and join in the battle to end all battles, the battle of our lives, the battle of Love. In Christ's name, under His command, we will conquer through love, for that is the only weapon that can win over not only the most able bodies and the sharpest wits, but the coldest, thorniest, most fearful of hearts.

Hope.

At school there was always a lot of talk about how "broken" we all are, and while there is some truth to this, insofar as we are all touched by original sin and have particular struggles in our lives, I have always been frustrated by this mentality. People who talk about being "broken" often fall into one of two categories: those who think that people who are broken need to be fixed and go back to the way they were, and those who believe that we need to leave our brokenness behind and just move on. 

There is something wrong with both viewpoints. Maybe we are "broken", maybe that's what we can call that terrible unwavering temptation we battle everyday with varying success, but if we are broken we can't simply be fixed. We can't just glue together the pieces and be good as new. Because we aren't... we're better. We're new, we're different. We "break" like muscles, not china vases. With each little break and a lot of God's grace, we are built back up into something stronger than what we were before. Each sorrow, each sin, each trial, when properly treated as the opportunity for growth that it is, only serves to transform us into stronger, deeper, wiser people than we were before. 

And so we cannot, nor should we attempt to, return to our previous state or pretend that nothing ever happened. Something did happen, and maybe it was terrible, awful, no-good, and even very very bad, but somehow it changed us, and we must embrace that (there's really nothing else you can do anyway, so you might as well make the best of it) and allow ourselves to be transformed. And we will be. It might be difficult to see, especially for yourself (it's ever so much easier to see good things working in other people's lives), but the change is there. If you know anything about the Romantic movement in literature, you know what I mean when I say that the person who allows himself to be transformed by such experiences becomes sublimely beautiful. 

So don't despair... we're all mad here, and it's a beautiful, growing, fabulous madness.

PS- for anyone who knows what I mean, think back to the muscle reference and laugh... *poof*