Neva and me and Neva,Oliver and mom from camping extravaganza family trip

My summer Roomie ( aka my sanity and angel) from the summer and our dear friend Sara

Another Smithy favorite, my dear Catherine. at one of our many summer potlucks ( we gotta eat right, even if we are studying non stop) :)

So many homes and so homeless

Instead of reflecting, summarizing on all that has passed, I will leave what has been lived as life, and start a fresh.

I appreciate everyone's comments to keep on blogging on and they are the main reason I am restarting after my lapse we'll call it.

I have arrived in Colorado. My second and final smith placement. I didn't choose Colorado for a placement, my top priority was working in a VA. Many professionals I have talked to have expressed how valuable of a place it is to be in as an intern, so that is what I asked for. And thus I am at the Colorado VA.

My moving, restarting has me pondering the idea of a home a place, a community.

I was sadden to leave North Carolina ( more than I realized originally) I had connected with really wonderful people and the community, space was beginning to feel like my own place, people.

This past summer I returned to Massachusetts, and fell into the ease and comfort of my smithy friend community. The friendships that were started last year continued to deepen. The need for one another is mutual as everyone is away from their home and loved ones. Sharing food, woes, complaints, swimming, wine, and study time eased the stress and intensity of the "Smith Summer". I felt thankful to not have to navigate making new connection with people, but have a "group" to be with.

As I returned to Oregon for a week with my family, I realized that it wasn't home for me any more. It is my beloved parent's, family's home, my favorite place on earth with some of my favorite people, but it was no longer home.

The thought that followed was, where then? I am almost 28; I am homeless.

This whole blog has been a record of my wandering. I take great pleasure in my adventures, my travels, my varied and rich experiences. But they do leave my roots without grounding. I am so blessed by being loved by Sooo many different people, I have such a wealth of relationships and support in my life. I am sure I have slept on the couch/ spare bed of almost everyone reading this blog.

But what makes a home? I know not literally homeless, but as in my place, my space, a community I leave and return to.

IT is not belongings, I know those don't make a home ( although I do envy married people's excellent cookware)

It takes time, familiarity, a sense of commonality with those around you, perhaps?

What else acceptance. Is this why we seek people like ourselves? Because they are the easiest to feel accepted by, the more we are like someone the more likely they will feel familiar and accept us.

I see this need for familiarity with the Veterans I work with. Only with one another do they really feel understood and known, what they have experienced and how it has changed them isn't something they could explain to anyone, so only with each other do they understood.

Maybe this is why I lack the feeling of a home, because I seek people, places and experiences that are unique, new to me, and I alone experience them, the combination of them all that is. I love the unknown, I uproot myself to feel and experience the world, feel blessed to skim the depth and breadth of diversity that exist. But these experiences, as they are experienced in my singular state leave me unknown, connected in such a scattered way.

Maybe it is not a lack of homes, but the abundance, I have been blessed to feel so connected in so many places, with such a variety of people, I have a lot of homes to miss, but not one to call my own.

HOBO= homeward bound

Time? Where does it go, when did it pass? So surprising it never slows down, no matter how far away the future seems.

When I become more diciplined in another phase of life I promise to get better at this. I am living and find it hard to reflect while I am in life,especially when there are no events, just a full life.

But transition, changes are upon me and I find myself contemplative, full of emotion and thus ready to blog. I also have many to do's, assignments, demanding of my attention and thus my profound skills of procrastination make me blog.

I am sitting in the coffee shop where nearly 8 months ago, I sat crying silently to myself as I blogged, for I knew no one, had no where to live, no money, and no idea why in the world I choose such a place to do my internship.

I'm tearful now as I think of leaving those who have become my community, the fullness of my days, my challenges and life here.

No worries, Its finals prep time for the colleges, so being a crying 20somthing in a cafe makes me blend in well.

My life has been full of the lives of so many others.

five days a week I walk into a a corner a huemongous hospital, up four flights of stairs ( at least at lunch I take the stairs) Through two locked doors and into the lives of 18 people who are in crisis. When I think about my time on the Unit. I think- so many people, so many faces, stories, families, unknowns, puzzles to solve.

There are those who come on a monthly basis, unable to have the support in the community they need to get them the medication and treatment that would prevent themfrom getting to such a debilitated state every month.

There are the 20 somethings with a family history that predisposes them to psychosis,who due to the stress of a break up, or school pressure, or some other unknown have a psychotic break.

And those for many reasons, (usually trying many times over) have unsucsessfully tried to kill themselves.

I problem solve with the Dr's as to the reason, the source, the right medication, course of treatment, consider the insurance, find community resources for them, talk with families to get the history their impression and needs, and do my best to explain what is happening to their loved one. Those are the interesting days.

Many I sit at a desk, checking boxes on a form, calling people who don't return my calls, seeking help that doesn't exist for the Patient's that won't get the help they need, but is leaving the hospital. I know why insurance sucks and health care needs reform, but I also know, we are very very far from a solution.

Oh and in case your still reading you must be very dedicated to knowing me, so i'll tell ya I'm going to Denver in Sept. I asked to be placed at a VA hospital where I could do work in an outpatient setting, meaning doing "real" therapy, with "real" patients, long term, psychoanalytic therapy. I will be doing work with people who have experienced trauma ( military), which is also an main focus area for me. That was the most important to me, and Denver is where they sent me! Geographically not my top place, but i will make the best of it.

I'm in NC till may 10th, visiting home for the month of May and then will head to Massachusetts for my second summer. ....

Im 27, the youth and the age strike me every now and again when I think about my hobo state.

February- thoughts and reflections

Living

A year has past (almost) since I started my blog, and the transient living.

My internship/ time in the South is over half way done. Somewhere along the way I fell for this place, these people, and find my self saddened by the thought of leaving. I am taking a wide open embraces of living and I'm learning that to make life full also means you will know when those arm are empty.

I'm finding lovely pockets of Durham to enjoy. I now know several places that offer quality coffee, and some fantastic mexican food ( what more could a girl need?), but overall Durham can be kinda blah. Shh dont tell the locals but I like chapel hill/Carrborro better. Athough Im not letting my ambitions die, I haven't been able to get out too much and see the south yet.

Life strums along.

I see people and am challenged on what makes normal? My job is to define, treat, and encourage the norm in people. I make judgment calls all day, and yet have this irking feeling that our common humanality is not in how close to "average" we become or feel.

I look at patients and am saddened that only occasionally do I see myself or my loved ones in them, for each and every one are the same as me and my loved ones. When I no longer see it, I've lost sight of the sense of the person, the humanity in them, and am only seeing the illness. (

I have found a great sense of connection through my pastel, suburban bible church. The community is diverse, although predominantly white. There are all ages, which is important, and I have found ways to be involved. I have been leading a monthly time of prayer. communion and worship and have loved having the freedom to be creative. We did foot washing and was blown away how vulnerable of an event washing someone's feet ( and letting another wash yours) can be. It is a challenge and I always need more time, but it has reminded me how much I enjoy public speaking,

So i'm continuing to be honored to be sharing lives, friendships, working to staying open, deeply investing despite potential separation that will come. I also appreciate the pace here, everything does move a bit slower, smoother, I'm secretly perfecting my southern drawl and learning how diverse a southern accent can be!

I feel bad for not having written in over a month. Some days I feel like I have nothing to say or want to publish and broadcast to the entire world, other days I feel there is too much to even begin to find the starting point. Currently I'm at the latter, but I have been so encouraged by all of you ( i.e my 10 family members and dear couple of friends :) )by you saying you like to read, and thus I will write.

Brief Update:

Still on the psych ward, feeling like I'm able to make a meaningful contribution. Meeting lots of people in different profession and patients with lots of different struggles.

Its over halfway done. At this point I feel like I am just making connections and settling into being in Durham, connecting with great people, finding community. And now I am really feeling the pangs of sadness about having to leave in a couple months.

Although it was COLD when I got back, the sun has been shining and I have been playing! I have been hiking, contra dancing ( watch a youtube video), eating yummy food, going to free events, volunteering, and spending time with people I like.

Thoughts, these are harder to tease apart as there have been many interlocking ideas. Themes of how we are so similar and so different, how we handle change defines so much of our experiences, attitudes and belief.

I'll start with yesterday, Martin Luther King day.

I felt like this was a really important day to "engage" with as it has great positive significance for the South and the community I live in. A southern experience I wanted to have.

The church I attend has a partnership with a African American BaptistChurch in South Durham, the mostly African American neighborhood, which sadly follows all stereotypes of poverty. We attended the church on Sunday and joined with them for a C/S project on Monday. I also attended a choir concert put on by a visiting African Children's Choir at DUKE, and went to a community wide MLK celebration service in the evening.

But some how I feel like I missed it. I don't know exactly what I was looking for, but I know I didn't find it. Maybe I was looking for inspiration, maybe I was looking for a sense of community, maybe I was looking for hope, a bit of what MLK sacrificed everything for.

I think I am realizing those feelings and accomplishments only exist in reflection. I thought alot about how sooo many people worked along side MLK, who are unknown, unremembered. How reluctant he himself was about doing the work he did, he was far from perfect, but every day struggled, for an ideal, a hope he could not possibly foresee ever occurring and never did. His greatness is celebrated because he is absent, he was given one day, how remarkable and how minute.

Only in summaries, resumes, descriptions are our actions noteworthy, inspiring and impressive. The actual living of them is not. My friends Danielle and Krispin are remarkable, admirable people, who are living their ideals, hopes and beliefs by choosing to live in poverty to be along side those Jesus commanded us all to help, love and be with. And they are miserable; the people they live alongside are ambivalent to their presence at best, and they do not get to experience very often the remarkableness of what they do. They sacrifice alot and life could be easier, better, if only they would compromise a little more.

The pastor who leads the church we partnered with here is a county commissioner and was praised by senators, representatives, mayors and many others at the evening service for all the remarkable and wonderful things he had done for his community. I spent the day crossing paths with him, and would not have believed they were describing the same Man. All day he was chased by pestualent worries ( the paint wasn't there for the volunteers to paint the walls, there were not scrapers to take off the old paint, the little old ladies chastised him for the lack of people vs the amount of food they were told to make,) his church has less than 50 people in it on Sunday, despite his passionate preaching.

Racism exist, poverty will always be present, violence is cyclical, people are fragile and heroes will eternally remain unsung until they aren't there to experience the singing. My friend who is the same age and brown ( her preferred ethnic identifier :)) was called a n-word in elementry school by her teacher. The west I sometime want to pretend is better, but I think about the roles Latinos play in our community and how they are treated. Because I am white I have the choice to be oblivious to how racism still exist. They do not.

Same with poverty and violence.
I guess I realize my drop in the bucket won't create inspiration or change that I can measure or experience or feel gratified by. But at least I will not be silent. The more you are in it the more you see the desperation and need in a situation.

Hope exist not in my actions making a difference but in a God who commands it, promising it is the most valuable thing I can do with my time, and breath.

Cocooning

Fall moments

The last couple of months have been synonymous with the season. It began with the end of something great, the warmth of summer, friends, and home; you know fall has arrived when the cold and dreariness begins.

Although it starts with an absence of summer goodness, it most surly holds change, and amidst the rain, and cold, there is the beauty of the falling leaves, crisp sunshine, apples and pumpkins.

Moving here was at first lonely, full of change and absence of comfort, but has drifted to filling with good people, new experiences, apples and pumpkins.

My highlights

Fall leaves- OK west coast, they have us beat. The diversity and richness of COLOR is astounding. I didn't get to go to the blue ridge mountains which is renowned for it's beauty, but even just on my walk to duke and back I am constantly aghast by the foliage.

SOUTHERN COMFORT- no not that southern comfort, the most southern difference I have found is the food. I do complain about the amount that is fried, ( mostly 'cause i don't want to eat too much of it)- but they really have a knack for frying and making great comfort food. So i gathered my new found friends/ food lovers together and had a potluck. We had a great time sharing recipes, music and each other's company.

my mom visited and we made a desk, out of an old door- yeah we're that cool.

DUKE basketball- so this is a big deal here. I guess this is common knowledge to most of the world, but I didn't have the slightest, so I figured I should partake of it and learn. Except to get a ticket is ridiculously expensive and sold out, and the student tickets are handed out in a lottery that the students sleep in tents for months to be entered into. So no schmoozing, money, or body parts would get me a spot.

But who you knows makes the world go round. A favor for a friend, the friend doing a favor for a professor led to us getting tickets!!!

The stadium and the fans are what Duke basketball is famous for. Here's some more info in case the curiosity about the history and fame is unbearable.

Originally the largest indoor arena in the South, Cameron is today one of the smallest in the nation. Nevertheless, its stature grows from year-to-year. Sellout crowds, top 25 rankings and championships of every variety have become the norm. The "creative harassment" of student spectators has given Duke the honor of being known as "one of the toughest road games in the USA," according to USA Today and any visiting team that has ever played in Cameron. In its June 7, 1999, issue, Sports Illustrated rated Cameron Indoor Stadium fourth on a list of the top 20 sporting venues in the world in the 20th Century, ranking ahead of such notables as Wrigley Field, Fenway Park and Pebble Beach Golf Club.

Duke's men's basketball teams have had a decided home-court advantage for many years, thanks to the diehard students and fans affectionately known as "Cameron Crazies" for their aggressiveness, tough catcalls, bleacher jumping and other actions used to create loud noises (for example, in the 02-22-09 showdown vs. Wake Forest, the arena reached 116 dB, similar in volume to jet engines at takeoff, louder than a jackhammer, and nearing the 120 dB threshold for pain^[5]) and rattle opposing offenses. Typically, the seats near the court as well as standing room is reserved for students who wait hours in order to access those areas come game time.

For access to major games, including those against the University of North Carolina, students tent for months in an area outside of Cameron known as "Krzyzewskiville." The hardwood floor was dedicated and renamed Coach K Court in February 2001, in recognition of head coach Mike Krzyzewski's 500th win at Duke.^[6]

Although it was no South American soccer match, it definitely had charisma a whole lot of of blue and a highlight of my fall!

So as I settle into winter, I am looking forward to less change and more comfort; knowing even in the stillness of winter, I am always in it, the whole messy lovely living process of me.

i love the sea and the sea loves me

If you know me, you know of my love for the ocean. If my poetic streak would flare I would write an ode to its unfathomable greatness.

I can now say I've encountered the North Carolina's Atlantic and am still smitten. I met my brother and his house mates at the outer banks- one of the "must see" attractions of NC. The outer banks consist of overgrown sand bars, overly developed with many skinny houses on stilts. Except the last island, ocracoke, which is just sand, ocean and a little fishing village, for us there was no other option.

For the first time, while driving there, I saw glimpses of the south I had created in my imagination. There were blossoming cotton fields and tobacco leaves fading yellow in the sun. picture little kids barefoot in overalls holding kittens ( no really) in front of houses overgrown with ivy. Dilapidated mansions, crumbling from their grandeur, spotted the fields along side rows of trailers. I had to take a ferry on the last leg and saw a dolphin fin ( the dolphin was under water) I have no photo to collaborate or second eye witness, but a fin I saw. other randomness: they have flocks of pelicans that dive into the water for meals, an impressive sight, given their size.

I forget how good it is to be with people who know you, and care about you. Cj and his groupies live deeply connected and with so much care and love for one another.

It was revitalizing to be included in all the lov'n. We camped strolled, built fires, played in the nightly bio- luminescence ocean, swam, and net fished ( above photo).

Michelle and I tried it in the ocean (its meant for a calm bay), and had little success besides entertaining the beer bellied fisherman near by. In the bay the next day, with netting success, we reveled and gawked over all the sea creatures we could capture. Cj's website, http://www.catchlightart.com/ has it well documented. We watched in awe and shock as a crab (who had vengefully attacked Cj moments before) cut a fish in two and ate it.

*******

Two weeks later I returned to the ocean, with a group of strangers. Yup, I broke all the rules, I talked with strangers, got into a car with strangers, and let them take me away for the weekend. I did it all for the sake of community. :)

If nothing else my vagabond state this past year has stripped me of any fear of people I don't know. I can gather the life story of a rock and love doing it!

Luckily I had some nice people to talk to and wasn't left talking with rocks. The group was made up of other young adults who were connected with a church I had been visiting and the weekend was focused on learning about community. The Church is going through a lot right now and in general is a little...hmm. lets say pastel, ( not nitty gritty or in the grime of living, too much suburbia for my taste) but it's heart is in the right place. I met many people with different passions, and felt welcomed.

Its all about picking quality strangers :)

It was quite a treat to be swimming, sunning and playing beach volley ball in late October. I'm sheepishly looking forward to a mild winter; I'm growing broccoli and spinach outside still!

The time in between the ocean visits have been about finding my rhythm and role in my internship and with all the people I have been meeting. Currently I'm looking for a job, as my internship is free labour, and I like clothes, gasoline, and food too much to survive without money!

The leaves here are GORGEOUS. I have never seen colors quite like them before, its hard to believe they exist in nature. I'll try to capture some photos.

May you all have a chance to embrace a loved one in the crisp fall sunshine, sip cider and watch leaves drift ( i want a photo if you are able to do it all at once)!

Cheers Loves!!