What is your Wild?

Over 10 years ago, while in Dallas for the weekend, my husband announced to me that their was a book he wanted to read. Shock is not a strong enough word to describe how I felt when hearing this statement. I guess you could say he's not big on leasurely reading, other than the occasional Sunday morning newspaper. While I was out shopping, he had watched one of those Dateline type shows and the main story focused on a young man named Christopher McCandless. Chris had given away all his worldly possessions, including his name, which he changed to Alexander Supertramp, walked away from his family, his life, to walk into the Alaskan Wilderness alone. Jon Krakauer told his story in the book Into the Wild. The following is a letter Alex wrote to a friend while hitchhiking:

"So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservatism, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more dangerous to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future. The very basic core of a man’s living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences, and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun."

Dale and I bought Into the Wild that weekend in Dallas and read it aloud together. That was our only option because neither wanted to wait on the other to finish reading it. I have never been more captivated by another person's story in my life. He moved every person that he met. And his story moved us. Dale and I both shed several tears throughout the book. Anyone who knows us has heard about this story and been encouraged to read it. To this day, Into the Wild has stayed at the top of our favorite's list. Dale and I have always wanted to visit that place, that bus, Chris McCandless stayed in during his last months of life. We have not yet given up on that trip, either. We now have our own bus. A trip to Alaska anyone?
What are the stories that have moved or motivated you to step out of your comfort zone - encouraged you to be more than you are???

"Make new friends, but keep the old..."

I said goodbye to my dear friend Sally Vaughan on August 9 as she prepared to return to her home country of England. After living in Amarillo during the 2005-06 school year teaching Kindergarten, she returned home for 10 months. In late May of this year, she traveled back to Amarillo for an extended visit. She inspired me to step out of my comfort zone and pursue my dream of writing. In June, we attended a writing conference and were introduced to Britta Coleman through our dear friend Jodi Thomas. Sally and I were smitten with Britta-her talent, intelligence, and passion.

The time came for Sally to book a return flight home and chose to leave from DFW. This enabled us to visit Britta and her precious family in Ft Worth. What a time we had! First of all, she has a husband who is an ex educator-right up my alley. I am sure we bored Sally and Britta to death talking shop. Then, as an added bonus she has two BRILLIANT children. I don't mean strange and awkward children. I mean smart, witty, worldly children. I could not have asked for a more perfect visit to the DFW area by more perfect hosts.

We ventured out to The Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth to see an amazing exhibit by an Australian hyper realist sculptor, Ron Mueck. I think my favorite piece is Two Women Grim (2005). The piece's dimensions are (approx) 33" x 18" x 15". I believe the reason I like this piece so much is because I can relate. In fact, the following evening after seeing this exhibit just the girls ventured out to Pete's Dueling Pianist Bar in downtown Fort Worth. I felt as though we were the alumni chaperon's at a frat/sorority social. I found myself talking to Sally, Britta, and Karla just as the Two Women Grim. The college crowd probably looked at us in the same way! HILARIOUS! Visit The Modern's website to see some of the other pieces in the exhibit. If you get a chance to see the exhibition in person, do it. You won't be disappointed! http://www.themodern.org/onview.html

After The Modern, and a great BBQ lunch, we went to The Kimbell conveniently across the street. Another exhibit I recommend visiting, if you get the chance, is The Mirror and the Mask: Portraiture in the Age of Picasso. The amount of Picasso paintings and sculptures in one room is almost overwhelming. The paintings follow the changes in his style in relation to trends in portraiture throughout Europe. The exhibition focuses on European paintings and sculptures of the period roughly from 1890 to 1980. The stories behind the paintings could possibly be more interesting than the actual pieces of art. The most thrilling part for me was seeing my favorite Van Gogh painting: Portrait of the Postman Joseph Roulin.

Visiting Fort Worth with my dear friend Sally was the perfect way to wrap up my summer vacation. It was hard to say goodbye to my old friend Sally and to my new friends the Coleman's (and not just b/c they are Methodist)! I look forward to another great visit again.

Happy 4th of July America

Dale, Kolby, Sam and I stood at the end of Pier A watching a fog of rain encompass the Statue of Liberty. The only way I convinced my family to go to Battery Park after dark was to see the 4th of July Fireworks and now a rainstorm may cancel the entire show. I listened to some locals standing next to us say that the rain would reach us in less than 5 minutes. No problem. We brought our umbrellas.

About 2 minutes later, we watched the rain run across the Hudson River and jump over the railing right where we stood to drench everything unprotected. Popping up our umbrellas, we heard the crowd of people standing behind us scream then scurry like mice for cover. Rain in NYC falls straight down no matter how hard or soft so we weren't quite sure where this mob of people holding umbrellas over their heads were going. Did they know something we didn't? Within 10 minutes, the rain cleared and the Statue of Liberty stood strong across the water again. Relief eased my mind. Their would be fireworks.

Loud booms and bangs filled the night air while huge explosions flew across the sky. I peeked behind us once during the show to see that the crowd of people made their way back. And then after a half hour or so, we gave up our front row seats and weaved our way out of the crowd. We enjoyed the rest of the show as we walked down the water's edge back towards our hotel.

I'll Love You More Tomorrow

When I watched my grandfather die several years ago, it forever changed my life. Even though I knew it was coming, I ignored the possibility. My sister called me at school one morning to say we needed to leave-immediately. Gandad had taken a turn for the worse. I remember bursting into tears and sliding down the wall in the school office listening to my sister trying to talk through her tears and share the urgent news. It took ten hours of hard driving between my three sisters and me, but we made it. Walking through the door of his hospital room and running to his bedside brought tremendous relief. He opened his eyes and said he loved us, then went back to sleep never to wake again. For three days my family lived in his hospital room-eleven of us taking turns sitting at his bedside holding his hand. I watched his body come up off his bed with every single breath. As the doctor came in and out of his room, he gave us hope every time saying, "Wow! I can't believe he's hanging in there. He's a strong man." It was a false hope. He took his last breath about 7:00 am on a Saturday morning. We were all standing around his bed, holding hands and praying for him. At the time, I was so greatful to be with him through his last moments of life. I didn't realize the haunting effect it would have on me. Five years later, I am writing about it for the first time. I am still not strong enough to talk about it with my family and may not ever. I wrote a poem about him today. I enjoyed taking a memory walk through my life with him. The healing power of writing is amazing.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you held me tight today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you sang sweet songs to me today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you tickled and we giggled today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you napped with me today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you taught me to ride a bike today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you took me fishing today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you screamed and cheered for me today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you laughed with me today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you played cards with me today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you talked to me today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you asked for my help today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you listened to me today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you celebrated my accomplishments today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you said goodbye to me today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you’ve loved me every day.

Do you know where your desire to read came from?

The Pinballs fell into my lap in the fifth grade. A friend passed the book along to me when she finished, saying it was now her favorite book. What makes a great book? After spending the first three years of my educational career in the lowest reading groups, how was I to know. I hated reading!

I graciously accepted the book, hiding the fact that I never intended to read it. I never read any books I checked out from our weekly visit to the school library. This book was different. I picked it up and finished it in two days! How could this happen-a chapter book in two days? I spent three years in the lowest reading group. I couldn't read. Unbenouced to me, I was a reader. For the first time, I understood why people loved to read: interest and emotional connections.

The Pinballs changed my life when I was in the fifth grade. Twenty years later, I checked the book out again. This time I read it in a couple of hours. The story was just as brilliant the second time around! That night I wrote the author a letter. I wanted to share with Betsy Byars how her story impacted my life. The story created a reader out of me. Furthermore, it explained a desire in myself to mother the motherless.

The Pinballs is about the love and sense of family three kids learn from each other living in a foster home. If only Mr. and Mrs. Mason parented every foster home in America today! This story shaped who I was as a teacher and who I am as a school counselor. The most important role effected is who I am as a mother to my step son, my only son, who lives with his father and me.

A New Journey

I believe this weekend will go down as being the scariest and most exciting time in my life. I have publicly branded myself a writer. I have kept writing in a closet that I only entered when I felt no one was looking. I have shared the idea of writing books with very few for fear that I may never accomplish this life dream. A fear of failure is something I live with every day. Just attending Frontiers in Writing this weekend was one of the hardest decisions of my life because once I start, there's no turning back. I am opening the door for more failures and disappointments than successes. In a workshop at FiW presented by a brilliant author, Linda Rohrbough, she explained the psychological term cognitive dissonance: the uncomfortable tension that may or may not come from having two conflicting thoughts at the same time. If you are completely comfortable with what you are doing than you are not excelling.
Apparently I am ready for an abundance of cognitive dissonance as I step out of my safe, comfortable world. My stomach has knotted, a lump has set up camp in my throat, and an awkward feeling of insecurity has ached in my arms and legs all weekend. Here I am... naked to the world.