Be Still

 

I didn't realize visiting the Carmelite House of Prayer would be as beautiful, enriching or spiritually symbolic as I thought. The evening before my birthday, I pulled out my Bible and was reading the passage from the Gospel of Matthew 14:22-33, where Jesus walks on water. Jesus walks on the water and his disciples are aware of it but in a fearful and alarming way, claiming that its a ghost. Their hearts are troubled and frightened. Right away Jesus says, "Courage! It's me! Don't be afraid." Peter said to Jesus if it is Him, then tell him to come to him across the water. And Jesus says, 'Come.' Too soon after, Peter notices the wind and is frightened, loses his balance and is focused on what is wrong rather than on Jesus who is straight ahead. "Lord, save me!" Jesus put out his hand immediately and held him. Jesus said to Peter, "You have so little faith, why did you doubt?" As they got into the boat, the wind dropped and the men in the boat bowed down before him saying, "Truly, you are the Son of God."

I took some time to reflect upon this passage, and I began to realize and come across how meaningful it all was. Sometimes reading scripture it doesn't come across directed at you or your life, but just a great story, wonderful examples of Jesus' healing power, mercy, love, and compassion or others' testimony to faith. However, a lot spoke to me after reading this Gospel passage and I kept rereading parts of it to uncover for myself.

I noticed how still Jesus is, walking on water, and of course He is God, so nothing is impossible for Him. As well as the stillness and certainty of his answers, concise yet meaningful responses- 'Courage', 'Don't be afraid', 'Its me'. How reassuring they are, instilling confidence and peace. And even when Peter wants that confirmation that we all seek and desire as a form of trustful testing, Jesus says right away, 'Come'. It's an invitation, a gentle yet direct response opening his arms, his heart to Peter's attempt.

I couldn't help but refer back to this passage reading as we visiting the beautiful and peaceful grounds of the Carmelite House. On the other side, was the pond, and out on the water was a Jesus statue depicting his scared heart, with his arms open and inviting. I also immediately noticed the flowerlike lily pads strewing and floating on the sides. 

Looking upon all of this, I thought of the past year for me and at times being like Peter, focused too much on the waves and storms of life, rather than God's enduring presence and love right in front of me. But even when I so often acted like Peter, the response of Jesus is also one I want to focus on, extending his hand at once and holding him. I can think of the various moments regarding this past year where that was true; perhaps I didn't come across it or feel it right away, but looking back I know He has never left me and always had His arms around me, holding me and helping me back up again. Seeing this image of Jesus out on the pond was gentle reminder to remember that for this new year ahead. 

It was really special visiting this place, with having a devotion/connection to the Carmelites. Also, looking out at the scenic and still water held a lot of meaning to me. The lily pads reminded me of the fruit, the blessings bestowed upon the endurance amidst the murky waters of life. It showcased the value of trust, hope, joy and unfailing faith to push through the storms and clouds. I feel that I can see the flowers now in my own season of life, especially after a tumultuous and growing year. 

Being still is not what I experienced last year, but one I want to instill as my motto for this year. Jesus is a constant in our lives, a peaceful presence and stillness that calms the waves and fears in our lives. My sweet sister gave me a mug for my birthday with Psalm 46:10, Be still and Know (that I am God). 

 I came across a little verse note that went with a bracelet my sister gave me for Christmas a few years ago. The note had Psalm 46:10 on it and read "Be still means to cease or relax. In this case, we are called to stop all the busyness in our lives, surrender, and acknowledge the Lord. All good things come from Him, and when we put Him first, everything else will fall into its proper place." I hope and pray this year to be one of stillness, peace and joyful trust. And happy feast day of St. Peter, and Paul today!

My Phlegmatic Side

 One of my sisters gave me a book about temperaments for my birthday. It's one that I have heard of before but never read, and it looks quite helpful and insightful. I already know my temperament, phlegmatic/melancholy and most likely split pretty even down the middle. Upon browsing through and reading some points last night regarding my dominant temperaments, I learned some things regarding the phlegmatic temperament. And I was able to see more things about myself, the good, the bad, and the things to improve and work on. 

I'm in the processing of cleaning and decluttering my room. It's always a lingering project in hand that for me at least, is easier said than done. It's the perfect time to do it as these are more open summer days. It's also a goal I had for this month, and June is quickly approaching the end!

As I came across random papers and gatherings, I came across my stash of 'saved' papers of document sheets from my job this past school year. They were absence reports indicating if you missed any days or work hours throughout the entire month. I'm not sure why I have saved them for this long (probably the phlegmatic in me!), but I came to realize the many months of the school year I checked the box at the end which stated 'no absences for this month'. Looking back at these months, how long some of them felt, each a particular feeling, experience, beautiful and good things, as well as difficult and emotional pains. 

There was only one month when I didn't check that box to indicate no absences, and that was January. At the end of January, I had a horrible back problem from sitting for hours at a time with no support and probably sleeping not so great either in terms of positioning. It was one day that I needed to regroup, rest and rejuvenate from work and more sitting, more zoom.

I came to realize how committed and loyal I was to my schedule, to my job no matter how challenging, lonesome or boring it came to be. And I refer that back to my phlegmatic side as the book states, "They are loyal and committed, tolerant and supportive. They possess a hidden will of iron that is often overlooked, because they are such agreeable people. They have a knack for diffusing tense situations."

 I am glad to have learned this within the temperament that God gave me, and to see a positive in the often notorious associations with a phlegmatic type. I hope to continue to see this positive and strong side of my phlegmatic side, but also grow and enhance things I can improve on and strengthen. 

My 28th Year or The Pains of the Heart

 This year of being 28 was unlike any other. To be honest, it started out hard and my intuition was that it would most likely be hard, challenging, and painful in ways I didn't know but expected. So yes, it started out hard and painful with the uncertainty of Ignacio's heart condition. The waiting, the sorrow and sadness of not knowing the outcome of it all. He was born on my birthday and passed away 4 days later. I still remember meeting him for the first time with my mom and sister. Meeting him to say goodbye. Nothing but bucket of tears streamed down our faces as we watched and waited for God to wrap him in His arms into Eternal Life. Just the shift of things, Santiago leaving the day Ignacio passed, and the length of summer, still waiting to work, to be busy and have some purpose was a real challenge.

Was encouraged by this clipping of a card that I took when Susie was going through her belongings

sweet Ignacio

Seeing Susie so busy, so preoccupied and focused on her goal of the credential as well as getting a job in Marin County and moving out was quite tough for me. Of course, I was proud and happy for her hard work, but there was so much transition for me and in my heart. Seeing it all, and waiting for my job to start up again was an added pain. Also, things with a friend had shifted, and I became hurt, confused and uncomfortable, not out of their doing intentionally. I just learned a lot about myself. I was very much in my head and I kept this really close to my chest. I became lonely and also bitter. My heart felt heavy, sad and discouraged. It also felt empty, with Susie moved away, her empty, spacious room was a constant reminder of that as well as the many, many memories we had shared and created together. It was very difficult for me at times to see her living on her own, her own life, experiences and then eventually dating. It was all very painful and sometimes even dark for me, another weight, another cross added on to what was already there.

After Ignacio's Funeral

Process of making goodbye video for Susie

Beautiful scenery after visiting the Christian store where I bought the bracelet I've worn everyday,: Phil 4:13

The ongoing loneliness and pain of my job continued and the large amount of free time that I had frustrated me. In prayer, I would often pray, wonder, worry about what I was supposed to do? I had recently seen my sister's life all busy and going somewhere, and her mission, her goal was accomplished which was wonderful. However, I had a lingering question on my heart, of what was next for me? What did God have in store for me? In this uncertainty, there was a lot of doubt, a lot of unknown, as well as pain and suffering. 

Visiting Susie Labor Day wknd, my devotion to St. Anthony visiting outside the church 

A book I was reading at the time was helpful in these pains and it was a thick book I often brought with me and read while praying in the church, The Diary of Maria Faustina titled 'Divine Mercy in My Soul'. I cherished it and felt close to her own sufferings, misunderstandings and admired her spiritual depth. There were also special and inspiring times like when Elisabeth and I enjoyed coffee time together at Peets, and sharing our Fall lists and encouraging one another. As well as visiting Susie over Halloween weekend and meeting Ricardo for the first time. 

having fun with Santiago

Halloween!

In the early Fall, I read about St. Louis and St. Zelie Martin, the parents of St. Therese. I found a lot of comfort and consolation in reading about them, their vocation journey, and their married and faith life together. I felt a sense of hope that I hadn't felt to at least touch upon a small part of my heart that was suffering from these growing pains and these big and hard questions. I also drew closer to Our Lady in these prayers, just like St. Zelie did when she was discerning her career and her vocation, Mary guided her. 

I felt so passionately and strongly to use my interest in language somehow, someway, as well as my B.A. in International Studies. I had this strongly on my heart as well in the spring and summer, but didn't know what to do about it. I was seeking ways to share my passion, but didn't know how to make that happen. There continued to be similar days at my job, and extra time for prayers at the church that was usually always empty, dark and filled with space to just be present to Our Lord in the challenges. I was also setting aside some time to study French, and brainstorming ideas for a story, especially in my free thinking moments at work. 

French notebook!

decorated a shirt!

I tried and tried to stay inspired, uplifted in the challenges. Often times dark clouds hovered over me with comparison, discouragement, doubt, and sadness. The enemy tries to ensnare us with lies and negative emotions especially when we are alone. Boy, did I find that to be ever more true! I had some really hard days in October, there were good and beautiful days too of course. But overall, my favorite month and season became clouded and cold with growing pains and forming trust. There were more tears, despair and a dark sadness that began to envelope (luckily for a short period of time) that I had never experienced before. It felt like a spiritual attack, one of many. 

Apple Hill!

This was around the time when my sister brought up again the idea of me pursuing a Masters in Library Science. It was something that they mentioned in late September during one of our meetups, but I was interested or inclined to consider then. At that time, the one good and beneficial thing about my job was the predictability of it. It was helpful and stable among the many questions and uncertainties I had. In October, when it was brought up again, I wasn't very open and could only really see what was right in front of me. Thinking about something else, for me, was daunting. 

But there were many prayers, questions, discernment in what I was supposed to do. I felt a sense to just listen and be open when my sister called me and we talked on the phone. She brought up library science again. I wanted to know what was the big deal with it? Why could she see me doing it? I needed answers and clarity, proof to hear another perspective. It sounded like something I should be open to hearing, thinking and saying to her hat God uses people to convey messages; He works through people. I told my sister I would do my 'homework' and research more about the program, cost, classes, the field as well as others experiences within that or other programs. I also talked to a contact from the ministry who is a librarian. I gained useful knowledge about her program and her experiences within the workplace. 

I could slowly see things clearly, as if scales had fallen from my eyes with my doubt and hesitations being cleared away. Confidence and consolation came from prayer as well as others' positive encouragement and statements, like they could really see me do that or be good at that. After applying to the program, I entrusted it all to God and St. Joseph, trusting that if it was meant to be, I would get in. Peace, joy and consolation followed, and after getting accepted, I was more than ready to take this step on this new and exciting journey. 

not very busy at work

Winter break came and went. The cusp of the new year was near. My saint of the new year turned out to be St. John Paul II which was encouraging. I saw some of his gifts and attributes that were inspiring for me such as- he was an intellectual, prayerful, trusting, peaceful, joyful, hopeful, speaks a number of languages, loved youth, Theology of the Body. I hadn't realized the bracelet I was wearing for a few months, on the back side of the small picture of St. Oscar Romero was St. JP II, he was with me all along.

The winter months were hopeful, but the short and cold days were still hard. There was continued pain, heaviness, comparison on my heart, and tears would easily flow. Going to Mass at St. Michael's before work was healing, beautiful and helpful. With the outdoor elements, it made things stronger, more enriching, like the pink red roses on the rose bushes, or the dewy, green grass, the gentle, lullaby blue sky showcasing a crisp winter morning. The music at communion time would make me feel melancholy and reflective. Heading to work after a peaceful and beautiful Mass would be a hard transition. Also knowing that I would be alone, just like the others days. But trusting that God would give me the grace to get me through another, and would be holding my hand gave me joyful consolation.

Christmas

There was excitement in January with my program starting, a new beginning. Something to finally be challenged by. I was still writing my story and finding time to write. Visiting the gravesite of Ignacio with the Marquez's was beautiful, touching and emotional. I felt sadness but also a touch of comfort that Ignacio was with me through all of my pain and suffering, my dear God son and nephew. I went to the church later to pray and tears kept streaming down my face. There was a depth in my heart I hadn't experienced before, words can't fully describe it. There was beauty and gratitude in visiting the Marquez's new home in late January. It was such an answer to many prayers and searches. It filled me with inspiration and joy for them. 

I was becoming more busy with my class as February started and I was researching more, writing on my school blog for assignments, and reading a book for a book review assignment. The days were still cold, and I was looking forward to blooming flowers and warmer weather, and no more boots and heavy jackets. There was still enough emotion at times, deep desires for my vocation just like the prior months. My job felt the same. I was still alone, and did my normal schedule of going to Mass when I could and visiting the church to make a visit after work. Steven was home during this time, and though we both had our own schedules, it was nice and rather comforting to have a sibling home.

made a Valentine's Day video

Did a Marian Consecration ending on the feast of Our Lady of Lourdes

Late March was when hybrid learning started for my job, and it was a transition to be with people at work again, let alone seeing some students again. It was a healthy change for me, though it was still kind of hard not being as busy as I would have liked. In the middle of the month, I visited Susie and my parents and I met her boyfriend's brother and mom. It was a nice getaway weekend. 

Spring break finally came, as well as Easter. I was so ready for that break, change in routine. I was desperately needing a break from the computer, from research, writing, and deadlines, and craving a mental shift and change of scenery. It was wonderful to get away for a bit with my sister and parents and be in SLO, visit the beach and be in beautiful and relaxing scenery, feeling far away from ordinary life. It was just what I needed to relax and recharge and feel inspired again.

SLO Botanical Garden

The countdown was on. Just a month left in the semester and a few more weeks after that and the school year would be finished. I could hardly wait! Parts of April were hard and heavy, others good, and light. The Baptism for my nephew was joyous and beautiful. Hearing about my younger brother getting a job in Houston, TX was of course exciting but it also came with heavy emotion and even sadness. Sister day was special to be together and savor some quality time, but I hadn't caught up yet, I was still processing through a lot. I was adjusting to other's transitions in life once again. The blessings and joys of life were harder to notice. I just felt like I was an emotional wreck at times, and like I was left behind (there were many reminders that made me focus on that too much). 

Writing my research paper was becoming busier and more daunting by the day. The due date was approaching, and sometimes my mind was swirling in many places at once. I became so engrossed and focused on my research findings and outline that I started to enjoy the heavy load and the ticking deadline. It gave me a sense of purpose, and I put a lot of time, energy and drive into writing it out. When I would complain to myself at how exhausting and time consuming it all was, I came back with 'Colleen, remember back to the Fall when you had so much open time that it was painful, so much uncertainty and not sure how to use your time well for meaning? Then be grateful since now you have it, and just do your best. God was preparing you for this.'  That insight, those words and reminders helped me and pushed me to keep on going. 

Writing paper with Navidad

The end of the school year was wrapping up and the days feeling longer and warmer. I found out with sheer surprise and amazement that I passed my class and did way better than I imagined on my paper. What an answer to prayer! Also, the excitement and anticipation of summer and the trip with Steven to go with him on his move to Houston, TX. The goodbye party for him was special and bittersweet. And then, just 2 days later, we were off on our trip. First to Arizona, then New Mexico, San Antonio to visit the Haslams and finally three hours away to Houston with tropical like humidity, palm trees, busy highways as well as a down to earth feel. This would be my brother's new home, far away from home. It would be a similar feeling and experience to when my mom and I helped found an apartment for Susie last July and then 3 weeks later, helped her unpack and settle in. 

Upon arriving home, I thought a lot about home and what it means for me. As well as wondering what the future would hold. But in the meantime, appreciating all that I have and that I am home safe and sound after what was a very busy, eventful, memorable road trip. And now I am here, writing this very long journey of how I got here, and I would say its all God's grace, mercy and love. This long, almost felt like unending suffering would linger with no end, and the pain out marked the beauty. But I am here, still standing or rather sitting, with my hair chopped off from donating my hair. I see it as a new journey to start soon, and just needed a change, a clean cut, and perhaps it could be useful for someone undergoing cancer treatment.

 Perhaps this year has taught me how to embrace the cross, better understand the meaning of consoling the heart of Jesus and trusting there's a purpose and a reason for the suffering in each particular season. This too shall pass as one priest told me last year. We know that God is never changing and always the same. 

I pray and hope to have more peace, joy and greater trust into this new year, into this gift of a year. For everything is a gift, even the hardships and crosses that I felt I had to go through in order to grow, learn, and trust more. The pains of the heart have truly been united with Ignacio's suffering as well, and his witness to his life. I am grateful and touched that my dear nephew and God son, Ignacio Rafael can be such a consolation to me, and truly a spiritual giant. Happy birthday to him in heaven.

"Yes! Give to God what belongs to Him, and remain lovingly passive in his hands. Hold for certain that what takes place either exteriorly or interiorly is best for you. Allow God to act, and abandon yourself to Him. Let the chisel perform its office, the needle do its work. Let the brush of the artist cover the canvas with many tints which only have the appearance of daubs...Go on blindly pursuing this path, and you will be shown what is to follow. Seek only the kingdom of God and His justice by love and obedience, all all the rest will be added to you." -Abandonment to Divine Providence

Picking Fruit

 Yesterday going fruit picking, a favorite summer tradition, with my mom, sisters and sweet nephew reminded me of today's Gospel reading. "...By their fruits you will know them. Do people pick grapes from thornbushes, or figs from thistles? Just so, every good tree bears good fruit, and a rotten tree bears bad fruit. A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, not can a rotten tree bear good fruit. Every tree that does not bear good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire. So by their fruits you will know them" (Matthew 7:15-20). 

This fun summer activity of fruit picking is one that takes some discernment, knowing which fruit is ripe enough and not mushy, worm eaten or torn. And picking comes from the tree branches, not on the dirt ground, though little Santiago thought so. :) This Gospel message rings true in our lives, to know how we can bear good fruit, and if we are. The priest today on his homily stated its about being consistent with our prayer life and our everyday/ordinary life and do they match up? The good fruit and the bad fruit are such contrasts in themselves and its easy to see that while out in the orchards. But sometimes its not so easy to stumble upon within ourselves. It calls for a deeper reflection and self awareness. 

I find it interesting that my former blog title was 'Plum Tree'. It wasn't so much the fruit aspect spiritually or me really liking plums (I prefer pluots),  but more metaphorically speaking (as is common for me:)). And my other blog, 'Say Hello to the Fig Tree' that I sometimes write on, is another deeper meaning, and having to do with 'the fruit of our lives', referring to Jesus not seeing figs on the fig tree and cursing it. It implies further how we should always be striving for holiness in all seasons. 

This past year, there was a lot of pulling, growing, stretching, waiting and pain. It was a growing year that is for sure. But I think coming to the end of it, I see it as fruit growing and blooming. There were many thorns and difficulties but from it sprung a new growth, and a depth I hadn't encountered before. I hope to say that good fruit was being born, cultivated and picked throughout this trying year. 

Freshman Flurries

 Reminiscing about high school, now that its 10 years since graduating, there's an interesting and entertaining remembrance of it all. Here's to Freshman year, my memory of it, the good parts, funny parts, learning curves in the big world of drama, academics, popularity and finding your friend group. 

Surprisingly, I couldn't find many photos from my Freshman year. I also unfortunately couldn't find my notebook from that time. I wrote about my first day, my first impressions, and just other writings throughout the year. I would be surprised if I tossed it, but oh well, I will do my best to recall the distant memories. 

My sister and I experienced 2 years of high school together. She was a junior when I was a Freshman, and we went to school together in the morning, early morning, 7 am rather for first period class. Our dad dropped us off on his way to work, and then we would take the bus home together. There were interesting people we met while taking the bus, other students, classmates, peers who we would see regularly or get to know. It was like my sister and my own pilgrimage commuting together and then almost always getting off the bus a little early to go to the local church and make a visit in the chapel. It was a wonderful routine we had, but I didn't always understand it. Susie was always punctual and serious about making time for prayer after a busy school day, and then walk home a little longer distance together from the chapel. I sometimes would just want to go right home, but it was a very good habit and her example, conviction and passion for her faith at a young age was enlightening, inspiring and eye opening for me for my 15 year old self. 

Getting ready in the morning was enjoyable for me. I remember dressing up more than I normally did in middle school and started wearing make up regularly. I became concerned with the dark circles around my eyes, and always tried to apply foundation and liked to apply eye shadow. Fashion was something I was taking more interest in, and I remember I sometimes dressed more formally than Susie. I enjoyed dressing up or wearing fancy shoes- wedges! But part of me had a secret crush that I was aware of, but its kind of funny since I only had one class with him my whole time in high school, and it was P.E., a class you wear sporty clothes and get sweaty. I feel slightly embarrassed to admit, this crush of mine would linger until right before graduation, and then it all disappeared and I totally forgot all about it, and him.

I had recently had my braces off and was so happy about it. I had this annoying and embarrassing thing where one of my front side adult tooth never came in. So in 8th grade, the baby tooth got pulled off and I had a space there and it took a while getting used to and for others to not instantly notice that about me. It was a big insecurity of mine. I was excited for picture day going into 9th grade, but I realized I wouldn't have my bridged tooth in in time to make it look normal. I took the picture but decided to do a retake. The lady who saw my first picture asked why I was doing a retake. She wasn't sure why since she said I looked cute in my first photo but I told her about my missing tooth and now I had it filled in, but she still didn't understand why I didn't want to keep my first picture. I don't have that photo since the retake is in the year book, but I kind of wish I did since her comment was very reassuring and even though I had my 'fake tooth' in, it made me not worry as much as what others thought about my teeth or my smile.

The first day of school was a bit scary, but having my sister to reassure me was helpful and perhaps thinking I would see her during the day was an encouragement. I vividly remember some of my classes, such as 1st period English with Mr. Fuller and all his students getting some kind of card from a deck that would match with a seat placement in class. I would sit with 2 boys I knew from elementary school and a girl named Susie. I also remember Mr. Fuller called my home phone the afternoon before school started, but I wasn't home at that time, I was at the park relaxing and talking with my sister.

Another class I also remember well was my Math class with Mr. Meier. I got switched into this class for good reason, since it was a slower paced class of Algebra 1 and the stigma is you are likely classmates with other low performing math students, and a number them on the popular and annoying side. I did actually like this class and I'm grateful I was in it since I was scheduled to be with a supposedly hard teacher in a 'regular' math class. I had failed 8th grade math, so it was a wise decision that I was put in Mr. Meier's fun, quirky, and lighthearted class. 

The first day of school he instantly almost knew who I was, or rather, who I looked like. "You look like a spitting image of.." And then I said, "Elisabeth Redmond ?" Already knowing full well about him, this class and that my dear sister had him not too long before me, and he remembered that she was a great student since she was always clarifying and asking questions. And he said ecstatically, "Yeah! How is she doing?" I felt a little bit embarrassed having the attention and eyes all on me, but I could already sense he was a friendly with an open and warm demeanor. I told him my sister was a sophomore in college at SFSU. From then on, he too called me 'Redmond!', always in an excited and happy way. It made me feel special and felt like I was 'the good kid' after my sister made that first impression for me. A few months later my sister dropped in to say hi, as we both came in together and he I remember he was happy to see a former student of his, and again my classmates were all just watching haha.

Overall, I liked that class, and I was pleased I was understanding the material and doing well on quizzes and tests, so unlike the year before with my fast paced, intimidating Algebra teacher. But there became one thing I began to dread, and dislike early on. It was a boy in this class who tired to talk to me, come up with things to say, face me, and I just found it annoying. He was one of the more socially awkward classmates, and I had no interest in getting to know him or giving him any attention. Homecoming was coming around and he didn't full on ask me directly to homecoming but he wanted to know if I was going to go. I also had no interest in going to that dance, I just wasn't excited about it and caring about high school dances hadn't seeped in yet. I told him I wasn't going and he asked why. I said that I wasn't very excited about going. 

The next Monday he asked me (I think our desks were right next to each other) if he had to give a girl flowers if he were to ask a girl to a dance. I thought it was weird and made me uncomfortable as if he would hand me flowers directly in class. I think some people in that class already knew that he liked me and even when he asked me the flower question I remember I heard a girl near me say, 'awww'. I was afraid he would hand me flowers the next day, but to my fortunate luck he didn't, and I think he got the hint. But throughout the school year he would try to keep talking to me as I remember and ask about my weekend or what book I was reading since I was reading in class (it was Anne of Avonlea!). I remember that class well.

Freshman year brought about its own challenges with creating new friendships and savoring old ones from middle school. From the advice of one of my sisters, was to make an effort and even just introduce yourself and start talking to someone since everyone was in the same boat. So in P.E. class the first week there was a lot of standing around and I didn't really know anyone, so I approached a girl who was also alone and I started talking with her, her name was Chloe. We became friends in that class which was a life savor since P.E. can be a weird and awkward class especially if you don't have people to make it more enjoyable. 

At lunch time on the first day of school, I was trying to find somewhere to sit or someone I recognized. All of a sudden I heard someone calling my name, and I didn't know what direction it was coming from. I turned and then saw my former friend Ariel. I met her in elementary school but shared an English class with her in 8th grade and we became closer. We sat together at lunch that day and I was grateful to find a familiar face and friend to last at least part of Freshman year, (its a long story).

Freshman year had things outside school such as basketball (my last year playing with PYB) and dad coaching my team. And also starting confirmation classes with Susie (I was only the Freshman, but the teacher knew I was mature enough, and no one else knew), the majority were sophomores. My oldest sister had her first child that spring, so we had special and quality time seeing them and my parents experiencing being grand parents for the first time and myself and all of my siblings, the gift of being aunts and uncles! I also helped out with a catholic girls camp each summer and had planning meetings and functions with other girls throughout the school year.

Another class I took was French. I had taken it only it in 8th grade but the class was surprised how much I knew since I learned the basics from my good teacher, Madame Ottoway the year prior. Freshman year I also got really into classic old movies, and saw for the first time, 'I Love Lucy'. I fell in love with it, and we had a form of cable on out TV that showed old shows and I would make time to watch episodes of I Love Lucy on TVLand. I also too art that year and for one of our drawing projects, I drew the classic image of Desi and Lucy Arnaz. I even read a biography or 2 about them and the show from a book at the library. It became my favorite show, and to this day I still enjoy an episode here and there. 

Overall, I have fond and good memories of Freshman year of high school. There were a lot of things that are seen as nothing new or special now like Facebook, YouTube, ipods that were new and just evolving. Some songs that were big were One Republic and Timbland Apologize; Taylor Swift Tear drops on my guitar; Plain White Tee's Hey there Delilah; Alicia keys No one; Colbie Caillat Bubbly. 

First selfie!

A Study Schedule to Keep Me Inspired

 I was recently thinking about 2 summers ago, and how freeing and open my schedule was. I remember how strongly I felt to pursue something of my own, preferably academic and challenging after leaving my bad job. I turned to study the CBEST, the same test I had started to study for 2 summers prior but never got around it again. The last time I had studied for it, I started with the Math section, not my preferred or strongest subject but I attempted with 'the hardest first' type of mentality. 

I took that test December 2017 in the city before the holiday season was approaching. It was a fun day with my dear sister as we made a trip of it, and she drove me early in the morning to my testing center. Afterwards, we perused old stomping grounds of hers such as SFSU, Stones town Mall, getting a Starbucks and enjoying walking down memory lane on some streets of her college years. It made taking that test all the more enjoyable. 

The summer of 2019 I wanted to start with studying the English section. Since I did not pass the Math section (by 11 points) I felt much more passionate and energetic to study and enjoy the process of hitting the books again especially after a very busy, demanding and exhausting time at my former job. Though I wasn't working, and just needed a break and a summer off to regroup, process, heal and relax, I did have a schedule. I would start the day out with morning Mass, and then either go to the library or Starbucks or another café and start studying and reviewing, practicing for the CBEST. I felt committed to passing this test on the first try and honestly, it felt really good to put my energy and effort into something after such a breaking point those past few months. Being at the library for hours at a time was inspiring and really rejuvenating, and also taking my time at Mass and not having to rush to get work on time. 

I was brought back to these memories as I have gone to the library a few times this past week. I'm grateful for that summer as it really prepared me for next job and season. I brought this same notebook I was using for my English testing practice with me today to write down some recipes. And I came across my notes from 2 summers ago. And I forgot that I was beginning again to study the Math CBEST last August. I needed a goal badly, and something outside to keep me going. The school year was just about starting and I knew it was all going to be remote on zoom. My sweet sister had just moved out to her new place, and there was just a lot of changes and transitions happening all around. It was hard, but having some sort of study schedule and goal was lightening the mood. 

And it wasn't just for my own sake that I needed to study and pursue something but I was also thinking of the future in that having the CBEST passed looked good on a resume and perhaps could enhance my job skills with what I was already doing, as I was feeling desperate and unsure of my job/career future. Those studies of the Math section didn't last long and I knew I couldn't force myself to study it like I once did for English. It just didn't feel right or very life giving, so I let it go. It's interesting looking back at that time, these memories. 

And I think another part of why it came back to me was because as I was browsing the classics section at the library and right near it is the section for testing materials or other tests books. I scanned passed an AP World History test booklet somewhat inspired by it, after being in a high school world history this past school year, I've learned and enjoyed it so much more than when I was in high school. So today at the library, I decided to get this (AP) World History test booklet to look through, and relearn some things just for the fun of it. No intensive studying, cramming, prepping, but just for the sake of learning. That's how summer should be. :)

A Reminder of My Passion

 It came like a whip. A whip of inspiration, that is. A breeze, or rather a gust of reminders that floated in mid air and made me remember where my passion and interest lies. Sometime last week, my Mom mentioned to me about a showing of Rick Steve's touring in the Holy Land. I knew I was interested to watch this segment, and I've enjoyed the programs I've seen of him visiting and touring different countries, learning and exploring various cultures. 

I was very impressed with his tour of Israel/Palestine that is also referred to as the Holy Land. He visited main sites that I have heard of, spoken and tried of food that I have some idea what it is and is most likely in my Middle Eastern or Israeli cookbooks. He even explored the riveting political tensions and divides within the region between the Israeli's and Palestine Arabs. Of course, being the seasoned tourist guide that he is, he didn't claim or stake sides, but talked to an array of people from different parts of both sides- those who were Israeli or Israeli Jews and Palestinians Arabs either Muslims or Christians and had them explain their perspective, their history, their story. It became more and more eye opening to me as well. 

I was glued to the 2 hour program, though only saw close to an hour in a half. I felt I was becoming immersed in this world, this region of rich history from Christianity, but also growing in my little information of Judaism and Orthodox Jews, and relearning some historic things related to Islam. To see the signs in Arabic, Hebrew and English was also cool, and knew that these languages are posted on signs in the regions. It made me think even more about the deep, complex and infuriating situation and turmoil within this region and how much I don't really know or understand. I knew I needed to read up more about it and study and learn the complexities and intricacies behind it.

With all of this, I came to terms that this is my passion; this region of the Holy Land (as well as the broader Middle East), as well as the language of Arabic, the culture and cuisine. It all came back to me, and I was reminded once again. I felt full force to continue with it and to not let it go by the way side or become inherently distracted with other languages to convince myself that Arabic was then and my interest has shifted. 

The next day, I went to the library in attempts to find some books related to or about this conflict within Israel/Palestine and to read up about it. I could have left with a few more books, but I just chose 2 that were related to not be overwhelmed. And then, I sat down at the library desks and studied and reviewed Arabic. My mind felt so focused and realized how much I do know and have learned, even little successes like matching words with their correct meanings or being able to read a few words at a time and understand their meaning. 

Next, I went to Barnes & Noble and thought to look through a whole cookbook of Israeli cooking and food. I have the prior cookbook to this one, but had never fully looked and read through this sequel. So I sat down in the café and took my time looking over each page, recipe, blurb or story, and the pictures within the city was beautiful. I figured to take my time and almost like 'study' the cuisine and culture is always insightful and for me, inspiring. After I was finished with the cookbook, I went back to my Arabic notebook and language book and reviewed some more. It was a great day to get back into this passion and interest of mine with more intentionality, motivation and a renewal of commitment and energy. I want to keep being reminded of this!

The Mission

 There were many beautiful sights and sceneries on the road trip with my brother. One of them being visiting a mission in San Antonio. I love missions, and have seen close to half of the ones in California. I didn't know Texas also had some missions, and my sister confirmed that there are 5. I assumed this mission that we saw was named after St. Anthony, but it was actually called San Jose Mission, named after St. Joseph. It was beautiful, rustic, reviving the old style feel for detailed tours and tourists awe spirited by its beauty. 

I wasn't sure if we were allowed to be inside the church, it looked beautifully inviting and traditional. Instead, I genuflected from outside the door and admired the cross that made me be still and just want to reflect and be. I knew it was the first Friday of the month and only wished I could go to Mass and receive the sacraments and the graces. It had been a long and tiring, special road trip thus far but I knew I was missing being inside a church, praying and just taking my time. 

I was grateful with how smoothly our trip had been and arriving safely to our destinations. I was trying to stay attune to the Mass readings as I brought the Magnificat with me as well as praying the rosary daily either in the car with my brother or to myself as I drove through flat, long and scenic views that expanded the elongating horizon and stretched my imagination of space. Surely visiting this mission was a highlight of the trip, and another devotion to St. Joseph, as well as St. Anthony of Padua in the city of San Antonio. 

Coming Home

 Upon getting out of the car and getting my belongings, I gave Steven a hug and a goodbye. We had experienced so much together in this car, this space for many hours, days at a time. And now it was all coming to an end, and we were about to live our separate lives in separate places and in different states. I didn't feel overcome with emotion like I thought I might but I did feel melancholy, and just processing everything the past few days. 

I wished him luck with the start of his job and training, and I could tell a twinkle in his eye was a bit sad too that I was leaving- his older sister who had accompanied him on this trip and seen all the new sights and excursions together for the first time, and helping him move into his new apartment in Houston. It would be a transition for us both, and I was prepared for that.

I was grateful at how calm I felt entering the Hobby airport. I hadn't flown in about 3 years, but luckily had enough exposure of flying alone. It went smoothly and I was grateful to have gotten a window seat twice, and see the vast land and mountain terrains that we had driven by just a few days prior. But it felt like a whirlwind. I was still processing everything, all the scenery, the many hours my brother and I had together everyday, seeing the Haslams in San Antonio and how special that was, even if only for a few hours. I was thinking more about family. I had seen family, was in contact with family via WhatsApp for updates and pictures on our trip, I was with family the weekend prior celebrating my brother's birthday and milestone of getting a job and moving away. 

The various locations of family was also interesting to think about. Most of us were in California, and with my sister's map she had placed tacks where each of us were living. Steven would be the second addition to family in Texas. Once I came back home after a very busy and constant, beautiful yet tiring, memorable trip I felt different. I didn't feel so much 'loss' or adjustment as I thought I would with Steven not here and not in California. Instead, I have felt the shift of wondering where the future will take me, and where will be my place to call home? I have seen all of my siblings' lives move and uproot to their place of belonging either for a season or for a long time. The saying 'bloom where you are planted' has literally been the motto, and of course its been interesting, beautiful, exciting, though it hasn't always been easy.

I have seen so much transition and change in a years time. It has been a lot easier than it used to be, and something that I have accepted. I know that I can learn and grow from it, and that it too is a season. I also know that its something that God is preparing me for, for the next steps, the next jump or move. Sometimes our very crosses, challenges, and pains can be a blessing and a gift. I am realizing how I can continue to be a gift for others, to family in my free time, availability, but also in my listening and presence. I know God has me here for a reason, and has given me these learning curves and transitions as opportunities to trust, grow, as I continue to follow the plan He has for me. 

Enkindled Memories of a Friend

 Traveling brought with it its own sense of memories and wanderlust. While on the road with my brother, especially as we were starting out and still in California, I recalled the time I was with my oldest brother 10 years ago in June. We were also driving together, but not nearly as far, just to LA area. He was driving me to an Opus Dei Center where I would be staying for a week for a program for high school and college catholic women called 'Lights, Camera, Action'. And he was making the trip to LA himself for potential teaching jobs. I remember on the way, he was practicing interview questions and was having me ask some so he could practice articulating his answers. It was a nice 6 hour drive or so together, and one that I will always remember. I had just graduated high school and wasn't even planning on attending this program. I was somewhat familiar with it since some of my sisters also attended. It was a last minute decision and plan for me, but glad and grateful I decided to. 

With seeing different states, scenery the thought of old memories and friends began to emerge. I was somehow all of a sudden reliving former emails, phone conversations with an old friend. Some of it brought on nostalgia from the days of high school and early college when we were closer, and were frequently in contact. I recall the summer after high school nearly talking on the phone with her everyday. We always had something to talk about and catch up on or laugh about. 

While I was in the 'Lights, Camera, Action' program we were in touch a lot, texting regularly and talking on the phone a few times. She was taking her first college summer course and I was experiencing the height of the scenic views of Hollywood, and learning about the film industry with guests speakers, tours to Sony and Warner Brothers and celebrating my 19th birthday. I remember she was eager to know what I was learning and experiencing since she was interested in film and stories and thought of it as a possible major, aiming and desiring for UCLA.

I looked back at old emails and conversations we had. I realized how much we could talk about, various topics and ones of common interest that we hadn't explored while in high school, most probably because I wasn't that revealing of my personal interests and just a private person. I thought of her because I was traveling. She did the Peace Corps and started a blog, writing down some of her adventures and experiences, intense and beautiful with host families, long and tiring work days with English lessons and teaching, adjustments, and the Spanish language. 

Though I've never done the Peace Corps and committed to a long term work experience abroad, I can relate in my own way with language. I've been to a Spanish speaking country- El Salvador, and while she was doing the Peace Corps, I was in the same continent for 2 weeks in Rio de Janerio, Brazil for studying abroad program and Portuguese is only spoken there. And I know how it feels to 'fall in love' with a language or culture even if from a far, like my pursuit of Arabic, and now French. 

I'm not sure how or why I thought of this old friend, but I'm assuming the adventure, thrill, unpredictably of travel made it so. It was refreshing, breathtaking, exhausting and exciting to be on the road and see new places and spaces, states I have never seen before nor knew what they looked like. And in some ways to experience a new culture, at least in passing and from a distance like the country western and slow pace ness that you only feel when you leave a place you're familiar with. 

These flashbacks bring with it a certain nostalgia, but also gratitude for those times and memories, seasons and conversations that brought with it its own spice of interest, variety, ambition and memories. Sometimes our mind does that, remembering a person or a time as a reminder. It reminds me of who I am and who I was, though the two aren't very different. Perhaps its God who reminds me and leads these memories for another inspiration and purpose. 

An Adventure Together

 Coming home yesterday felt surreal. After being on the road for 5 days and passing through 3 in a half states, leaving California, seeing Arizona, New Mexico, coming through Texas and seeing family in San Antonio and then finally Houston has been a special, somewhat intense and exhausting, memorable, whirlwind road trip. 

I never thought I would do a trip like this let alone with my brother. He landed his first ICU nursing job in Houston, Texas and invited me to join him for this epic journey all the way to Texas. I was only slightly hesitant, thinking about travel by car with just the two of us and then me flying back home. But as I thought and pondered it, I knew the answer would be yes. How could I pass up an opportunity like this? Such a milestone for my younger brother, and not sure when I would see him next. It would also be a good experience, and a trip that we would always remember. He even said that we could see the Grand Canyon on the way! I've wanted to see this world wonder for sometime now and was even thinking of seeing it sometime this summer. With an opportunity like this, I knew it was an additional reason to go with him and experience this memorable adventure alongside with him. 

For part of the trip, I kept thinking about Our Lady and how she went lengths to visit and accompany her cousin Elizabeth who was also expecting later in years, John the Baptist. I thought of Our Lady's commitment, generosity, charity and support. The first long days of travel felt quite intense with being in the car for many, many hours and a lot of time seeing beautiful yet similar scenery for long hours at time. The tiredness of sitting, and travel and being on a time constraint were things to adapt to. But thinking of the Visitation was helpful in how I could continue to support Steven on this trip as well as his adjustment to Texas.

St. Joseph came to mind a lot as well. His tender care and love, protection and support of Our Lady when they were traveling on donkey to find a place to stay, or when it was unsafe for them and they had to flee to Egypt as refugees for their baby son, Jesus to be safe from Herod's evil tactics and malicious hands. St. Joseph was the one leading and brought Mary to the stable to give birth since there was no room anywhere else. I knew St. Joseph was leading us on our long and tiring journey to get to our destinations safely and on time. 

There was one night when we were in Albuquerque, New Mexico and driving through heading to our destination for that night. The city, Santa Rosa didn't feel that nice or safe and it was getting later in the evening. The place that my brother and I were planning to stay didn't look all that great either, a simple motel. It also looked closed, though the sign said open. We eventually talked to the man and he confirmed that we didn't have a reservation and that he was booked for a number of weeks. We were confused and figured the Expedia didn't go through on their end so we had to find something else. We were tired and exhausted from driving, had seen the Grand Canyon that morning and were ready to call it a day. 

We tried 2 more places in hopes of finding an opening. One place we briefly looked at and it liked less safe to me than the prior one, and with a barking dog outside someone's door, it didn't feel very comforting let alone for a good nights sleep with a loud dog. We scratched that idea and attempted with another motel, somewhat similar to the last one. And when the guy finally let us in, it seemed sketchy to me, and there were only smoking rooms available. We knew we had to find something else, as the man stated there more further down we could try. But it didn't seem like much left, and it was approaching 10pm. I didn't feel that safe in that area and especially at night, but luckily with my brother, I felt okay. I told Steven, lets say a Hail Mary to St. Joseph to help us find a safe and nice enough and affordable place to stay the night and to get a good nights rest. We tried a motel chain across the way that looked like an upgrade from all the rest we'd seen, and it felt safer with more rooms and not so close to the street. My brother went inside to ask and sure enough he they had something available. I knew it was to St. Joseph that we could get a good nights sleep and feel safe that night.

Driving through Arizona, New Mexico and a good portion of Texas was very eye opening for me. I never considered how much land there is among these states, the agriculture, the rural land, and the mountain ranges in Arizona that display a reddish burnt color that makes you think of the Grand Canyon. I also thought a lot of the Pixar movie 'Cars' since it was set in that area and Route 66 which we took. The pace was very different because I'm used to suburban, city life not country. The music I would play from my CDs would go nicely since a number of them were from my favorite band, Lord Huron which is an Indie/Folk genre. 

I feel that I could focus on the roadways and whatever happened this past school year, it felt all behind me. I was just enjoying the present moment and scenery with my brother and embracing this trip as well as the summer ahead. There were a lot of things to laugh about either in the moment or reminisce about later, such as the street play in Williams, Arizona that he kept replaying the recorded video he took, and talking about it since we didn't quite understand it because we missed some of it. It took a while to adjust that it was just me and Steven. I'm so used to having a sister around, or another woman like my mom. It was a learning curve to realize that him and I were experiencing this altogether yet how different we are- he's choleric, melancholy, introvert, and I believe to be a 'J' in the Myers-Brigg and myself- a phlegmatic melancholy and  a 'P', and definitely a sensitive introvert. 

But I think considering everything, it went well and we got along because we are very different and opposite; I also think we helped each other. Towards the end of the trip, I asked him ,'So, are you sick of me yet?' And he said no right away, and I said 'Yeah, I'm not really sick of you either.' I think also what helped in creating and sharing memories was laughing. 

There is a lot more to say and write, but I will stop here now. To be continued..