Dumb Broad

That's what I am according to some random lady at Walmart yesterday. Here's the story:

I took my boys to the store with me because Daniel and Andrew decided that they wanted an alarm clock for their bedroom, so they can get up at the same time I do (oh, joy). We were in the alarm clock aisle, just minding our own business, looking at alarm clocks, when this couple comes strolling down the aisle. They were not, however, looking for alarm clocks, or even anything else on the aisle. Why they were there, I am not sure. My cart, along with the baby, was a little towards the middle of the aisle. When I noticed this couple was trying to pass with their cart, I quickly apologized and moved my cart out of their way. As they walked past, the lady said, not under her breath, but out loud, so I would not mistake what she was saying, "Dumb broad."

I was completely floored. Who calls a random person in the store a "dumb broad" to her face?! Certainly not me or, really, anyone else I know with even a pinky-full of politeness. I admit; my feelings were hurt by a complete stranger. I almost tracked her down to confront her after I recovered from shock, but I decided to let it go.

Now, I'm beginning to think that maybe she had some kind of excuse (not necessarily a good one, but an excuse, nonetheless) for her comment. So, help me out here: give this lady a good excuse for what she said. Be silly. Be outrageous. Maybe be even a little bit rude. I have a feeling she won't be reading my blog and getting offended. I am, after all, just a dumb broad.

Il Bel Far Niente

I'm reading Elizabeth Gilbert's Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman's Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia
and last night I read as Liz (because we're tight, you know, I call her Liz. I also call Shakespeare "Bill", but that's for a different post.) explained about il bel far niente: the beauty of doing nothing. I loved this paragraph about Americans how we seek to be entertained and our inability to do nothing and wanted to share it with you.

"Generally speaking, though, Americans have an inability to relax into sheer pleasure. Our is an entertainment-seeking nation, but not necessarily a pleasure-seeking one. Americans spend billions to keep themselves amused with everything from porn to theme parks to wars, but that's not exactly the same thing as quiet enjoyment. Americans work harder and loner and more stressful hours than anyone in the world today. But as Luca Spaghettie pointed out, we seem to like it. Alarming statistics back this observation up, showing that many Americans feel more happy and fulfilled in their offices than they do in their own homes. Of course, we all inevitably work too hard, then we get burned out and have to spend the whole weekend in our pajamas, eating cereal out of a box and staring at the TV in a mild coma (which is the opposite of working, yes, but not exactly the same thing as pleasure). Americans don't really know how to do nothing. This is the cause of that great sad American stereotype--the overstressed executive who goes on vacation, but who cannot relax."

Whoa. How true is that?! So often, on the weekend, I feel guilty because I don't want to do anything. I don't want to go to a movie or even shopping. I just want to stay home and read a book or play with paints. I guess that's still doing something, but it's not something interesting or something important or even something with people. And when I go on vacation, I always want to be going somewhere, buying something, seeing something that I can't see at home.

Maybe, as Amercians, we can't dedicate a month or a week to doing nothing and/or seeking pleasure. We don't live in Europe; our world is very different from theirs (I know this to be true as I lived in Europe for 18 months), but we can learn something from them. Can we take a day and do nothing? Can we take a couple hours a day and do something that brings us pleasure? What do you think? What would you do if you gave yourself a day to enjoy il bel far niente?

Awakening the Heroes Within

Have I ever told you that I'm kind of addicted to self-help books? Okay, I'm addicted to all kinds of books really, so maybe it's more of a sub-addiction (I totally just made that up! Maybe I should become a psychologist...or a writer of self-help books!)



So, I won't tell you how many self-help books I'm reading right now, but I will tell you about the one I got in the mail today: Awakening the Heroes Within: Twelve Archetypes to Help Us Find Ourselves and Transform Our World
by Carol Pearson. This one has been on my Amazon list for, well, probably years, but I saw that I could get it through my bookclub for much less, so I ordered it a few weeks ago.



First, I guess I should tell you that I'm also fascinated by archetypes. This fascination started when I was first introduced to the idea in a literature class my junior year in college. The idea of the collective unconcious floored me, and, I had to believe, that the reason we have this collective unconcious (this invisible background knowledge that people all over the world have!) is because we all did come from the same place, that this collective unconcious that is carried in the DNA of our spirits. These archetypes are character types that are found in the stories of cultures and peoples all over the world. Want a simple example (and probably my favorite)? Cinderella. All over the world there are Cinderella stories. Cultures that never interacted with each other have Cinderella stories. How is that possible?! you ask. The collective unconcious, is my reply.



So, I saw this book, I finally ordered it, I opened it up tonight and right away I see that I can take a quiz to see what kind of archetype I am, or, more accurately, which archetypes I am most like. My highest score was for the Seeker, so I promptly turned to the chapter about the Seeker. This is what Pearson writes: "The quest always begins with yearning. We feel discontented, confined, alienated, or empty." (Um, hello, is she channeling me? Sorry, I'll continue.) Often we do not even have a name for what is missing, but we long for that mysterious something. Cinderella longs for her prince to come; Gepetto longs to have a child; Telemachus searches for Odysseus; the prince seraches for a great treasure. The urge to sek the grail, to climb the mountain in search of visions, to seek wisdom, to cross new frontiers, to achieve the formerly unachievable in all areas of life seem endemic in the human race. The Seeker responds to the call of the Spirit--to ascend."



Seriously. This is so me right now. Probably, if I read every archetype in the book, or if I scored differently, I would probably say, "Seriously. This is so me right now." Despite that, I can't wait to see what more Pearson says. Maybe she can tell me how I can feed my children and be a full time writer. Keep your fingers crossed for me!

If there were an Academy Awards for teaching...

I would not win it.

Especially after today.

Today I freaked out at one of my students. This kid, we'll call him K, would not stop interrupting me. First of all, he's from Africa and he's picking up on Spanish from all of the latino kids in my class (have I ever told you that I'm one of two white people in my 2nd period and the only white person in my 3rd period? Not that it means much, but that's the way it is.). K, while he's really a nice kid, was shouting across the room in Spanish all period long, he couldn't hear me because he had his iPod on (although I had told him to turn it off and put it away several times), and he interrupted me various times while I was reading a book to them (K: Did you say Liberian? Me: No, she was a librarian. K: My uncle is a Liberian. Liberia is in Africa. Me: Yes, I know, K, but she's not a Liberian; she's a librarian, like in a library. K: Then you should say library and not Liberian. Me: I DIDN'T SAY LIBERIAN! SHE IS NOT A LIBRARY; SHE IS A LIBRARIAN!)

But that wasn't the worst part of the period. I actually screamed at K when he interrupted me yet again to tell me that I needed to go slow when I was reading what I wanted them to write. I felt like I was yelling at my middle child for using the entertainment center door as a swing and breaking it while the oldest child sat and watched him do it. (I probably won't be getting any nominations for Best Supporting Mother either.)

If there were Academy Awards for teachers, there are several teachers in my school who not only would be nominated, they'd win. I can't even get my students to vote for me for Teacher of the Month, no matter how much extra credit I throw at them (Okay, I've never actually offered extra credit for it, but I do often tell them that they should vote for me for teacher of the month.)

I'm thinking maybe I need to make my own award and present it to myself. Maybe I'll even dress up in a fancy dress and lay a red blanket on the floor and have my children interview me. And I'll post my acceptance speech on my blog for the world to see. I can receive the "Best Reader of Friends' Facebook Status Updates" award. Or the "Most Valuable Michael's Shopper" award. What do you think? What award do you think you deserve?

Querencia--September and Now

Back in September, I had my high school creative writing students write about their "querencia" which, according to Georgia Heard inWriting Toward Home: Tales and Lessons to Find Your Way
is Spanish for "the wanting place." It's the place where you feel the most comfortable, the most safe. Below is what I wrote about my "querencia" 6 months ago:

I've only been to my querencia once, last April. And ever since that time, I've felt kind of lost, homesick even. When I dream of the perfect place to write, to create, I dream of this place: Fort Warden in Port Townsend, Washington.

I don't know what it is about this place that I've been to once that has entrapped my soul. Is it the cold, spring rain that tastes like sea salt on my tongue? Is it the beach that I walked along, making deep intentations in the sand with the heels of my polka-dotted rain boots? Is it the frost that lay across the carefully groomed green lawn and leafy treas of the fort, turing this place into an icy fairyland before the sun came up and melted it off? Or is it the silence that allowed me to think, to dream?

Really, I don't know what makes this place my querencia. But it is. And I know that as long as I live in this desert state surrounded by noise and little water, that I will always yearn for that other place. I dream of going home to rest.

Tonight, I shared this same idea with my adult creative writing class and I wrote again. Here's what I wrote tonight:

I've thought about my querencia a lot the past few months. When I first wrote about it in September, I had myself convinced that my querencia was in Port Townsend, Washington, a place I had only been to once. It seemed magical to me last April, a place that only existed to feed my soul. And I worried that I would only ever find peace at that place, that I'd only know true happiness there.

Now I've begun to doubt that, perhaps for my mental well-being, because I'm worried that if I never get to spend real time in Port Townsend, I'll never find true happiness.

So, I've begun to wonder if I can find my querencia here. Because it seems to me that maybe querencia is really inside you. Joseph Campbell said that the place of rest, Nirvana, can only be found within ourselves. I think that's what querencia is: it's the place where I can feel at peace, where I can feel the magic of creation, and it's inside me.

I need to find a way to carry my querencia with me all the time, like a little token in my pocket or a charm on a chain around my neck. How can I do this?

So, this is what I'm thinking about right now. How can I carry this peace with me, this comfort and this happiness, wherever I go? What do you, my friends, do? And where do you feel is your querencia?

Courage

I finished reading a YA novel called Need by Carrie Jones, kind of typical YA supernatural faire, quick and fun to read. But my purpose for this post is not to write a review of the book. Acutally, I wanted to share a quote with you that was quoted in the book. I think it's going to be my quote for the year:

" The secret of happiness is freedom. The secret of freedom is courage."
--Thucydides

I hope you like it, too.

Writing Challenge #2: What I've Learned

Here's a writing challenge from my beloved The Awe-manac: A Daily Dose of Wonder
. It's short, it's sweet, and it's kind of fun too!

Set your timer for 10 minutes; then complete this sentence as many ways as you can as many times as you can: I've learned...

Then post a comment and let us know how many times you completed the sentence and maybe share one or two of the different sentences. On Friday, I'll share the sentences I wrote.

Good luck!