A sight for sore eyes

The nice thing about being easily entertained is that I'm easily entertained. All it takes is one cheap pair of frames and one brother really good at Jerry Lewis impressions.

I'm going to miss living with my brother!

The Bozo Life

I think I can finally say that The Trip is well and truly over. The Bozone is looking swell and it has been a sheer delight to see friends and family again.

Adelyn is precious and such a joy to everyone who gets to be around her. She may not look extremely happy here but she had just woken up from a nap. I feel much the same when forced awake and peered at by a large and blurry stranger. Never fear, it was quickly remedied by the simple solution that makes every baby happy again: a clean diaper and a full belly.
Now that I think about it, that's the best solution to any problem I've ever faced as well.

School starts in just a week and I still need to fine-tune my syllabus (it really isn't as important as it sounds) and get my backpack ready. Some things just don't seem to change since kindergarten. The semester will be busy: taking three classes, teaching 33 freshmen, taking comprehensive exams, conferencing (again), tutoring on mythology and the Bible, working in the Writing Center, and keeping up on my thesis research.

Home again, home again, jiggity-jog

Seeing the world has the fantastic side-effect of making home seem even better than it has ever seemed before. We crossed the Montana border on Sunday, driving into a magnificent sunset of golds and pinks embroidering navy clouds. I can confidently say (eight countries later) that they just don't make a sunset quite like that anywhere else.


They also don't make dusty cattle drives and saddle-sore muscles quite like the ones I bounced through today!
Horse: Stub
Rider: Cowgirl CJ
Location: Big Bank Pasture
Time: Too early for jet lag

That sticky thing called Love

I used to think that loving someone was a big deal and resulted in a lot of fuzzy, sugary-sweet sensations originating roughly in the midsection. And then people I loved died and I learned that sometimes the fuzzy gets sticky in a distinctly unpleasant way. Not one to shy away from logic, I figured out that if I simply shielded myself from all that heart nonsense, I wouldn't have to hurt. Then Someone-Who-Knows pointed out that a plant can hide under a rock to shield itself from potentially harmful weather, but it will die pretty quick from lack of sunlight.

So I learned that it's okay to love (which always involves some hurt) and that it's always worth it. I even felt fairly confident distributing this precious gem of 'wisdom' to those I could see in a similar position. Despite my willingness to share, it was a self-centered lesson: what I stand to gain or lose in the game of life.

One day I found myself emotionally bruised, exhausted, and heart-weary. I needed nothing more than a kind, loving word - maybe a hug, maybe a patient, listening ear - and it was denied. The ache was so deep that I couldn't really articulate it; I couldn't muster the strength to ask for the walls to be lowered for a few scant minutes so I could rest in the safety of love.

Then I learned the second half of the lesson...or started to learn it.

Refusing to love simply because I fear the cost denies me the experience of a full life (the easy half). But much more significantly than this one-dimensional consequence, a refusal to love denies those around me the greatest gift that can be given in this life. My petty fears deny an opportunity for a Love greater than myself to heal wounds in others, to enliven a downcast spirit, or to encourage a disappointed soul. Instead of looking so steadily at myself and the potential benefits/costs that come with loving without walls, I have glimpsed a much more subtle and grave cost, not to myself, but to those around me.