Spain is stealing my boyfriend away from me until JULY TWELFTH! Holy cow, forever away, right? But I'm going to try really hard not to be that clinging girlfriend that's like "Talk to me, don't experience your new country because I haven't talked to you since yesterday!" To be honest, that would really irritate me, and Ray was absolutely the best when I was studying abroad last summer. He was there to talk when I had the spare moments to talk, but he wasn't excessively trying to contact me and get me to stay in to talk to him. I'm hoping that I can keep that balance while he's gone too.
There is one big difference though. When I went to Costa Rica, Ray and I had been seeing each other for maybe three weeks and we weren't even officially in a relationship. We were playing everything by ear. With him going to Spain, we've been together for over a year, and we've seen each other almost every day for the last 8 months. You can't tell me that isn't an entirely different situation.
That being said, I'm having a harder time this evening than I was this morning. 6 weeks is a long time and I feel really torn. I'm excited for him to have this new experience, but I'm a little worried too. He is my rock - and like I've said in previous posts, I just know that he's the part of my life that makes the best situations that much better. I want to share everything with him, and I want him to laugh with me and hug me when I get stressed out, because I know that's bound to happen eventually. But now I just have to be patient and go it solo for a while. I know that I can, I just don't necessarily want to.
I miss my bear. :(
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Story of a Swimmer and the Value of a Hug
Here's one of many things I really like about working kids: they are completely unashamed and open with their emotions, even if they have very few ways to express themselves. That's why I think a hug from a child means so much - they don't have very much to give, but that is something they always have to give and it's the thing that means the most for them to give.
I have a little girl on my swim team who has been in my group for about a year. She's eight, but started when she was seven and has never been one of my "stand out swimmers."But she comes to practice regularly and usually has a smile on her face. Her mom says she struggles at school because she gets in trouble often for being too chatty and not paying attention. I see a bit of that at practice, but I also see how capable she is if she sets her mind to something and if she feels that she is experiencing success. It makes me wonder if she's not getting those challenges and that support in her classroom, or if it's just a different environment.
Anyway, her mom recently expressed to me that she was starting to see herself more as a "swimmer," and when other kids talked about their sports, that's how she defined herself. I decided that it was the perfect time to take advantage of this new view of her relationship with the sport, and I met with her to discuss goals. She shared some goals with me and I shared some with her and she said thank you, and walked away. Mom sent me an email the next day telling me how much her daughter enjoyed the meeting and walked away feeling like she had more of a purpose in the pool. Her performances at practice the next few days were stellar.
She swam both days at our meet this weekend and was really focused on each race and performed some of the best races and best stroke techniques I have ever seen from her. Each time she came to see me after a race, I had nothing but praise for her. Even on the race where her goggles fell off and she couldn't see anything for the whole lap, I had compliments for her for continuing to swim and finish the race and for doing her best despite obstacles. She was disappointed in herself after that race, and couldn't understand why everyone was saying "Good job" to her when she felt she didn't do a good job. I think she was able to understand later, but it was almost a good thing that she was disappointed because it showed me and her mom that her races mattered to her and that she cared about what she was doing. Instead of coming to me peppy after each race, she would come to me exhausted, out of breath, but smiling still.
After outstanding races again today, I made sure to compliment her again on a fantastic weekend as she was getting ready to leave, Skittles in hand for a small reward after the bigger rewards coming from her hard work. I was proud and I was impressed and I wanted her to know. Mom and Dad beamed at her and she looked proud of herself, which is my ultimate goal for every swimmer. As I started to walk away, she wrapped her arms around me and gave me a big hug; and I just squeezed her close, trying to transfer some of my belief in her into belief in herself and what she is capable of. But that hug meant the world to me because it showed me that something was working. The connection was being made and she didn't know how to acknowledge it besides giving me the best thing she had to offer: a big, grateful, joyous hug.
I have a little girl on my swim team who has been in my group for about a year. She's eight, but started when she was seven and has never been one of my "stand out swimmers."But she comes to practice regularly and usually has a smile on her face. Her mom says she struggles at school because she gets in trouble often for being too chatty and not paying attention. I see a bit of that at practice, but I also see how capable she is if she sets her mind to something and if she feels that she is experiencing success. It makes me wonder if she's not getting those challenges and that support in her classroom, or if it's just a different environment.
Anyway, her mom recently expressed to me that she was starting to see herself more as a "swimmer," and when other kids talked about their sports, that's how she defined herself. I decided that it was the perfect time to take advantage of this new view of her relationship with the sport, and I met with her to discuss goals. She shared some goals with me and I shared some with her and she said thank you, and walked away. Mom sent me an email the next day telling me how much her daughter enjoyed the meeting and walked away feeling like she had more of a purpose in the pool. Her performances at practice the next few days were stellar.
She swam both days at our meet this weekend and was really focused on each race and performed some of the best races and best stroke techniques I have ever seen from her. Each time she came to see me after a race, I had nothing but praise for her. Even on the race where her goggles fell off and she couldn't see anything for the whole lap, I had compliments for her for continuing to swim and finish the race and for doing her best despite obstacles. She was disappointed in herself after that race, and couldn't understand why everyone was saying "Good job" to her when she felt she didn't do a good job. I think she was able to understand later, but it was almost a good thing that she was disappointed because it showed me and her mom that her races mattered to her and that she cared about what she was doing. Instead of coming to me peppy after each race, she would come to me exhausted, out of breath, but smiling still.
After outstanding races again today, I made sure to compliment her again on a fantastic weekend as she was getting ready to leave, Skittles in hand for a small reward after the bigger rewards coming from her hard work. I was proud and I was impressed and I wanted her to know. Mom and Dad beamed at her and she looked proud of herself, which is my ultimate goal for every swimmer. As I started to walk away, she wrapped her arms around me and gave me a big hug; and I just squeezed her close, trying to transfer some of my belief in her into belief in herself and what she is capable of. But that hug meant the world to me because it showed me that something was working. The connection was being made and she didn't know how to acknowledge it besides giving me the best thing she had to offer: a big, grateful, joyous hug.
Saturday, May 25, 2013
Support Surrounds
I graduated from college a week ago today! It still feels so surreal. People keep asking how it feels to be a college graduate and I honestly reply with, "Mostly I just keep forgetting that it actually happened." I will remember at totally random moments of the day and just be like, "Oh hey self, what's up? You totally have a bachelor's degree," and then go back to feeling no different only moments later.
The most mind-blowing part is that I still have people coming up to me congratulating me on my achievements. People I didn't even think really paid attention to me have come up and offered their congratulations to me. It feels a little overwhelming to know how many people are supporting me and looking forward to hearing about my successes in the years to come. The outpouring of love I have received from family, friends, and even acquaintances still hasn't ended. I've worked hard for a lot of things in my life, but one thing I've never had to work for and have just been blessed with has been the relationships that have developed between me and others over the years. That just makes me feel lucky.
And I'm already being exposed to the support surrounding me as I take my next step into the future by entering the credential program this fall. I had elementary school teachers fighting to get me into the school I have embraced as a family for the last three years, and then teachers involved in deep discussion over who would actually get me as their student teacher. I've had current student teachers that are about to finish the program offer me support and encouragement. And aside from that I have all the other people in my life who are reminding me that I am starting the journey down the career path of my dreams, the job that I was made to do.
Onward I go. Don't leave me know, I wouldn't have made it this far without everyone involved. My success is a compilation of everyone's dedication to helping me achieve my hopes and dreams.
Monday, April 22, 2013
Tonight my heart is heavy.
What do you say to your best friend when he loses the last thing that had strong meaning in his life, the last thing that at multiple points was the only thing keeping him afloat? I don't know what to say. I don't even know what to think. I rarely find myself at a loss for words, but I am finding myself utterly speechless.
I'm having a true moment of questioning myself and the world and everything beyond this world. Because this isn't fair; and it breaks with everything I've ever preached or believed and I'm not quite sure how to handle that. Right now, "handling it" looks a lot like sitting on my bed quietly staring into space and trying to muster up some thought-from-shock to write this blog post. If there is any higher power, why is he making life so hard for this kid? Hasn't he paid enough? Hasn't he gone through enough ups and downs and tragedies to be able to experience some real honest beauty and greatness and luck in life? I don't get it. I don't understand why he's being continually tested beyond the emotional stress capacity of anybody else I know. Why won't the universe give him a break? Why can't he get some of the happiness that he is more than worthy of? I don't get it.
I know he's going to read this. He's pretty much my only audience member. But I still find myself saying, "What do I say?" So:
I love you poohad. I wish everyone else in this wild world could see you the way that I do. I want to keep being optimistic and positive for you, but I also don't know if you really want that right now. I don't know if that will help you. I feel speechless and helpless. I'm going to hold your spirits up high for you, and I'm going to sing you the song in your heart when you are unable to do it yourself. The minute we realized our friendship, I knew I would never leave your side, no matter how ugly or beautiful things got. And things are ugly now, but remember that you are never, ever, ever alone.
I'm having a true moment of questioning myself and the world and everything beyond this world. Because this isn't fair; and it breaks with everything I've ever preached or believed and I'm not quite sure how to handle that. Right now, "handling it" looks a lot like sitting on my bed quietly staring into space and trying to muster up some thought-from-shock to write this blog post. If there is any higher power, why is he making life so hard for this kid? Hasn't he paid enough? Hasn't he gone through enough ups and downs and tragedies to be able to experience some real honest beauty and greatness and luck in life? I don't get it. I don't understand why he's being continually tested beyond the emotional stress capacity of anybody else I know. Why won't the universe give him a break? Why can't he get some of the happiness that he is more than worthy of? I don't get it.
I know he's going to read this. He's pretty much my only audience member. But I still find myself saying, "What do I say?" So:
I love you poohad. I wish everyone else in this wild world could see you the way that I do. I want to keep being optimistic and positive for you, but I also don't know if you really want that right now. I don't know if that will help you. I feel speechless and helpless. I'm going to hold your spirits up high for you, and I'm going to sing you the song in your heart when you are unable to do it yourself. The minute we realized our friendship, I knew I would never leave your side, no matter how ugly or beautiful things got. And things are ugly now, but remember that you are never, ever, ever alone.
"There is something you must always remember:
You are braver than you believe,
Stronger than you seem,
And smarter than you think.
But the most important thing is,
Even if we're apart...
I'll always be with you."
I'm going to go eat away at some sherbet, and I only wish you were here to enjoy it with me. Hugs and love to you mister. I'm holding you in my heart and in my prayers.
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
Peeved
You know what irks me? When something goes missing and someone says, "Someone stole it!" Really? Really. What is this, elementary school?! I hear that and it reminds me of when I was in school and when I go into the classroom today and a little one goes, "Teacher! Someone stole my pencil!!" and then you point to a pencil on the ground underneath their desk and say, "You mean that pencil?" and they look back at you sheepishly and say, "Oh...yeah."
Why is some people's first reaction to assume that a missing object was stolen?? Like, for what reason do you need to make something such a dramatic event with such an immediate judgement call? I watched a grown man do it yesterday and I shook my head at him. Then, another man came in today and said the same thing to me, about the same object. Because the man from yesterday had spread it to him!! He has no proof that these missing hooks for the pool were stolen, but he goes around preaching it to anyone who will listen anyway. And get this, he also has a "suspect."
Dude. Grow up. You're 45 years old, it's time to get a life.
I don't know what it is. Are people too lazy to look for something they could have potentially lost, so they say it was stolen? Are they too prideful to admit that the loss of the object is their fault, so they have to put the blame on some external force? Are they so bored with their day-to-day lives that they have to invent and stir up some drama to make things more interesting? None of those are valid reason; in fact, I'd venture to say they all make the accuser look like a fool.
Yes, sometimes things get stolen and I'm not arguing that they don't. But when you can't find something for two seconds, or haven't even bothered looking for it....shut your damn mouth and take some responsibility first. Sheesh.
Why is some people's first reaction to assume that a missing object was stolen?? Like, for what reason do you need to make something such a dramatic event with such an immediate judgement call? I watched a grown man do it yesterday and I shook my head at him. Then, another man came in today and said the same thing to me, about the same object. Because the man from yesterday had spread it to him!! He has no proof that these missing hooks for the pool were stolen, but he goes around preaching it to anyone who will listen anyway. And get this, he also has a "suspect."
Dude. Grow up. You're 45 years old, it's time to get a life.
I don't know what it is. Are people too lazy to look for something they could have potentially lost, so they say it was stolen? Are they too prideful to admit that the loss of the object is their fault, so they have to put the blame on some external force? Are they so bored with their day-to-day lives that they have to invent and stir up some drama to make things more interesting? None of those are valid reason; in fact, I'd venture to say they all make the accuser look like a fool.
Yes, sometimes things get stolen and I'm not arguing that they don't. But when you can't find something for two seconds, or haven't even bothered looking for it....shut your damn mouth and take some responsibility first. Sheesh.
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Voicing to Others
In my 8th grade yearbook, my science teacher wrote:
"Speak up! The world needs to hear from you."
How funny that sounded to quiet, insecure, thirteen-year-old me. What could I possibly have to say that the world would want to hear? And moreover, in what world was I ever going to overcome my tremendous fear of public-speaking to be able to tell anyone anything?
The answer to that question, I now realize, is in this world. Yes, I used to get paralyzed when speaking in front of a large group, even a group of my own peers. It was a challenge that I felt I would never overcome. I struggled through presentations through high school and the beginning of my college career. I would sit back down after a presentation where my voice shook, my hands shook, and I stumbled over words I had practiced over and over again; and I would feel absolutely defeated. If I couldn't explain something to a classroom of people, how was I ever going to communicate with the world?
I attribute most of my growth in public speaking to taking up Spanish with the intent to become proficient enough that I could call it my second language. I would say I'm half way there now, but it's caused a lot more changes in my life that I had ever imagined. It's made speaking English seem easy, not that it ever wasn't, in casual conversation of course. But what I mean is, getting up in front of a group to present something in my native language began to feel much less daunting, because I was confident in my abilities to speak without sounding like a fool. I knew what it felt like to not have mastery of a language, so suddenly it didn't matter who I was speaking to, or how many there are. I knew that I could do it. If I could do it in Spanish, although broken and fragmented, and have people understand me...then I could sure as hell do it in English.
So the first step was feeling like I could speak to a crowd. The second step was beginning to feel like I had something worthwhile to say. That one's been a little slower to develop, mostly because I was young and inexperienced. But as I'm about to graduate, I'm finding that I have things to say and things that I want other people to hear. And it comes from being passionate about what I'm doing with my life. This week I'm speaking at a Reunion/Informational Meeting about my experiences in El Salvador and at Chapel to talk about the same experience and the aspect of community service. And there's a lot more potential for me to do some more speaking - I'm meeting with a professor about the prospect of creating a proposal to add an international aspect to the Liberal Studies Undergraduate program. If it goes through, I'd be a strong force in that movement.
But I'm not scared anymore. I feel like I have important things to tell people. Things that could make a difference. And the prospect of having the opportunities to share them excites me. That excitement is enough to overcome any nerves. I've finally come to the realization of what my science teacher was trying to impart on me 10 years ago; I just needed to understand how capable I really was. Then everything else just falls into place.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Thoughts of the morning
I just had the craziest moment of clarity ever. I'm sitting in my bed eating breakfast before I plan to go swim for this morning's workout, listening to music, and just kind of pondering life. Where I'm at now, where I will be in the near future, where I will be in the distant future, things I want to try in my lifetime...you know, the usual thoughts people have at 8am (ok maybe not).
And then I had this huge epiphany, and it came to me so clear and so obvious that it even brought a little bit of happy tears to my eyes. Everything I think about doing in my life, not just today but in the past as well, I unconsciously visualize me doing all of those things with Ray by my side. That's how I know that I want him in the rest of my life, that's how I know he's who I want to marry. Every time I think about wanting to do something, I say to myself, "It would be so cool if Ray and I could do that!" Why? Not because I'm incapable of enjoying things by myself. I've proven that I can very easily do that and grow from it. No, it's because everything is better when he's there. Even if I'm living what feels like the best week of my life, like I did in El Salvador a couple weeks ago, I stop and think about how Ray being there with me would make it that much more incredible. He's the missing piece to my adventures. I want that piece with me the next time I travel. I want that piece with me when I move to San Diego. I want that piece with me when I start teaching. I want that piece to go hiking with me, to exercise with me, to relax with me, to go shopping with me, to be with me to make the rest of my life that much better.
Whoa, right? It's 8:30, and I'm already carrying that joy in my heart for the day. It's going to be a beautiful one. :)
And then I had this huge epiphany, and it came to me so clear and so obvious that it even brought a little bit of happy tears to my eyes. Everything I think about doing in my life, not just today but in the past as well, I unconsciously visualize me doing all of those things with Ray by my side. That's how I know that I want him in the rest of my life, that's how I know he's who I want to marry. Every time I think about wanting to do something, I say to myself, "It would be so cool if Ray and I could do that!" Why? Not because I'm incapable of enjoying things by myself. I've proven that I can very easily do that and grow from it. No, it's because everything is better when he's there. Even if I'm living what feels like the best week of my life, like I did in El Salvador a couple weeks ago, I stop and think about how Ray being there with me would make it that much more incredible. He's the missing piece to my adventures. I want that piece with me the next time I travel. I want that piece with me when I move to San Diego. I want that piece with me when I start teaching. I want that piece to go hiking with me, to exercise with me, to relax with me, to go shopping with me, to be with me to make the rest of my life that much better.
Whoa, right? It's 8:30, and I'm already carrying that joy in my heart for the day. It's going to be a beautiful one. :)
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