Weekend Refreshment Revealed

 Once I left the building and the doors closed behind me, I could finally think. I was very much ready for a reprieve from the week. I knew I had to get to my happy place, so I decided to get there sooner than later. Upon entering my warm car Friday afternoon, (and what felt like a long time ago from parking that morning) I took a breath and scurried on over to a more relaxing place. I couldn't quite relax on the way, as I had all the thoughts, feelings, conversations and emotions circling in my head from the day. It felt like a big, knitted mess to process. It had been another challenging and exhausting day, as I just had one the day before. Not to mention a busier and fuller week- testing an incoming student for my class next year, another parent meeting, tutoring, staff meeting, among my own pursuits like swimming with mom and then rushing over to confession (and waiting a very long time.)

I'm glad I left when I did to make it to my happy place, there was less traffic than if I left later. I knew things were waiting for me to pick up, and also maybe I would browse a little. I was on these same roads that early morning, headed, rather rushing to Mass when it was still dark. Maybe I pushed myself a little too much with waking up before the crack of dawn? But most days it worked out well. And 100% of the time it was worth it. 

I parked. I felt ready to enter in, and slowly already the weight of the day and the week was starting to dissipate. To my surprise, and joy, all my books had been waiting for me to pick up. And to my slight embarrassment, I had just picked up a similar number of books a week ago (they must think I'm crazy, I thought), to which the lady with the disheveled hair said in a somewhat annoyed, yet only partially encouraging tone, 'You have a lot of reading to do.' I asked if I could get a bag, as there was no way I would be able to carry all these books on my own. She was able to pull out a bag that looked like the shape of a football all wrapped up (her words, not mine) and then came across one that was cleaner and didn't want to give me a dirty one. I smiled upon that as I thought the way she said it was funny, and thoughtful (I think that was the first genuine smile I gave all day, I thought). 

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Driving past those green hills never felt more relaxing, refreshing and freeing. It's not very common to see such wide amounts of land, green that is, and with cows and sheep grazing on it. I hadn't been near there in a long while, but I remember growing up, every summer we would enjoy our excursion of fruit picking and would pass by those mountainous, lush hills. Being out in nature is important and does something to you, it can revile and awaken you to God's beauty. It's a refreshment that we often forget about.

Seeing my brother and his son was uplifting, and later my sister-in-law. Being at their new house and neighborhood, and just seeing in a different area, on a different schedule, someone else's life was a breath of fresh air. Eating his crepes that he made the night before, a coffee like protein shake drink that was delicious and refreshing as well as chicken strips from Costco, not to mention those sea salt chips that Dominic wanted and kept trying to get them off my plate with his two-year-old avocado lover hands. Talking to my brother about books, and recommending some in case he's interested, writing, genres, language and family.

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I was mixing the ingredients this morning before anyone was awake. Stirring the flour and cinnamon contents and then the egg. I don't usually make breakfast, but something inspired me to and wanted to continue using my sister's pancake mix she put together. Navidad wasn't outside, though he was outside all night. He would usually be at the door by now and listen to his name with a gentle prance across the grass or already be near the flowers in the front. Luckily, my mom saw that he was in the car. He must have gone in last night when the car door was still open. Good thing he was okay, trapped with not much air flow, but out of harm's way. His expression looked a bit scared, and putting his paws on the window, but no meows. Such a quiet and curious kitty. 

Palm Sunday Mass, spiritual and meaningful. Was able to get a good seat, a simple palm after the Mass started and receive a good message from the Pastor from his homily. 

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I've been meaning to use up the rest of my gift card and shop, especially for spring clothes now that it's been warmer. Somedays I don't really know what to wear. Of course, the parking was super crowded, and it was warm outside, and of course I went a lot over my gift card. I happened to park a short walk away. Parking where I did always remind me of that Starbucks that used to be there (I could envision seeing my past self there through the window, the spot I always liked.) I would read, write down notes/quotations, and language study (mostly Arabic at the time) and have quality time with my sisters or my mom. 

Walking to and from the store felt more relaxing and slowed down time. I could also focus more on details and my surroundings in the midst of many cars and traffic. If I could, I would walk a lot more to places, there are so many benefits. 

Swimming in Sharp Blue Water

 Lying down on the cool, green grass never felt so relaxing. It was a Sunday and gearing up for another week never felt so necessary. I decided going for a swim would do the trick. It was still summer, though late, and although it was nearly fall technically, the summer heat and sunshine fooled. Splashing and soaking into the chlorine water never felt so good and inviting. 

It was daunting thinking of another week, demanding, busy, exhausting...Was I ready? Lying on the soothing grass helped me melt all my concerns from the week prior and into the new week away. It felt firm, but soft.

 Collapsing into the chlorine waves, and lukewarm water chilled away any stress. I would go underneath the water, blowing bubbles as I held my breath like I did when I was just learning how to swim as a young girl. It looked like sheer glass up above, with the large green trees and cerulean sky, the crisp, tangerine sun shining through. I could relax and breathe (well, not actually breathe), but I felt like I was decompressing. 

There was beauty to this moment, and I was taking it all in, especially the last days of summer and still able to swim later in the afternoon. I was grateful to soak up the silence, stillness and nature before the week shouted at me for demands, noise and a good (over)dose of stimulation. 

When I swam indoors only on occasion during these winter months, the memories of those September swims came back to me. They were fun, rejuvenating and challenged me to get back into swimming. It also was nice to think that I did survive those weeks- and they were just the beginning of the school year, as busy and hectic as they were.

Swimming and jumping into the glassy water remind me of a book I'm (re)reading. She's a swimmer, a determined one, and in the beginning its because of her dad, who's also her coach. But as the years go by, she is set to practice and train for the Olympics. Her journey to Europe (Germany) as a refugee also has some part of it when her and her sister help save the boat going across to Turkey from Syria when they swim across while helping support the fellow passengers fleeing from Syria as well. 

Reading this book the first time made me so inspired by her story, by swimming, by her determination. I also really like learning about refugee stories. Also, I requested to read it again because she eventually goes to and lives in Germany with her sister and later her younger sister and parents are able to come. She has to learn the language (as I am doing currently), and its inspiring for me with culture and language. 

I plan to swim another time this month. It will be a good challenge, a way to decompress, be immersed in the water, silence, my own thoughts and among other lap swimmers. Maybe I'll relay some German vocab, or maybe just be grateful for all that's happened this year, and this school year. To be grateful for God's plan to unfold and be in the chill and thrill of swimming in sharp blue water. 

Pretzel, Nothing Like a Christmas Kitty

 I saw this photo a few months ago. It's been on my desk ever since the Christmas season, and I've been meaning to write with it in mind. But alas, the busyness of these weeks, teacher life and daily routines have made my desk more cluttered, messy and harder to recognize. It's already halfway through Lent, and yet, I'm writing about a picture from the Christmas season. 

Something a bit deeper though than only Christmas is in this picture, which is my love for cats! That was our cat, Pretzel, whom we found stray at our parish church once upon time in December. We hid him and made him come home with us in our big, white van so our dad had to say yes to keeping this precious little kitten.

He grew up, and a few years later he wasn't so much like a kitten, but a small cat who got all of our attention and love. (Well, at least mine and some of my sisters) And would often be getting into trouble or climbing our screen window for attention or like the one time putting his paw into our cake for girl's club. Of course, our female house cat, who acted like she owned our house and family didn't get along with silly and whimsical Pretzel. She was too prim and proper for outlandish behavior, and she had manners. 

I loved playing with Pretzel though. My sister named him after a little stuffed animal cat I had (who was also grey and long haired that I named Pretzel.) This picture of me holding and fooling around with Pretzel when I was in the 4th grade, in some ways doesn't look too different now, with me holding, teasing and playing with our now cat, Navidad. (And who unfortunately, doesn't like to be held for more than a few seconds.)

My favorite animal had always been a cat (when I was a child, I said it was a tiger), but they're still part of the cat family. One of my students yesterday asked what's my favorite animal, and I immediately said a cat. 

There is nothing like a kitty who is sleeping on your bed, your lap, or simply purring because you're petting it, and also running around like a dog and all hyper, but until, just then, when they find a cozy corner and get comfortable and are sleeping softly. The house becomes a home, and all is peaceful and homey. 

I had a few silly names for our beloved Pretzel. But nothing beats all the names I have for our dear Navidad. Some are even in a different language. Funny, interesting, odd and endearing names all describing my love for a cat that always seemed out of the question and would never be a reality again (but God made a way, even when I forgot about having a cat.) 

Pretzel died when I was in the 6th grade, during our summer girl's camp. I was so sad and cried about it after my parents told me and picked up my sisters and me. Some thought I was crying because the girls camp had ended (that can be hard too) but coming home and having that silly and rambunctious kitty gone was hard.

 My little girl heart missed him and could only slightly smile when I heard he died while trying to catch a bird and perhaps trying to eat this said bird that may have been poisonous. 

I think he died how he lived. 

Ice Cream Drips

 Same pants, different weather. Light blue jeans, 

chocolate ice cream trickling down.

Weird and stagnant conversation.

Empty, purposeless, different than before.

Hard to trust, not a good feeling, bringing back bad memories.

Drip, drip on the ground. Messy.

 Not as delicious or interesting. Boring facade, all melting down. 

It's clear as day, pounding like the rain. 

Like the day you met me.

 Sprinkling rain and crowded cafe,

 trying to make your way. 

It's melting. I see it now, going down the drain. 

The sun is out and no more rain. 

No more hiding. 

God's behind me, making a way. 

Seeing me drink coffee. Eating chocolate ice cream

 and Chinese stew. It's a waste, didn't taste. 

It's no good, move on, get a clue.  

Give me a clue, my old blog title.

 Reminds me of art and paintings, saw last weekend. 

It felt like a breath of fresh air. Springtime in the air. 

No more clouds, no more rain clouds, no more mystery clouds. 

It's all clear. Clear to me, with God's love shining down on me.

Have no fear. Wipe out bad memories. 

No more turbulences, mending disturbances. 

God is protecting me

 through and through. 

Same jeans, different weather. 

Same pants, different feeling. 

God, I'm grateful for showing me all that's

 in my life and I how I can serve, love and care. 

There is a lot on the inside to bare. Like the ice cream,

 drip, drip, drip. Like the rain, drip, drip, drip.

 Somehow there's pain. But a lot to gain. 

Another stain, which feels so lame. 

Why does this seem to happen so?

 Only God knows. 

And look another rainbow.

As I walk to my car, feel peace. Feel freedom. 

Only God knows. 

Manet & Morisot Inspiration

 It's been so long since I've been to an Art museum. I always feel inspired when in one, perusing and looking at the paintings in detail. I realize it takes silence, concentration, intentionality to appreciate a painting in its fullness and give the painting (and the artist's) their fair due by paying attention to it. To really see and ponder even the painting's meaning, symbols, textures, colors and shades and lights and darks. 

I remember exploring the National Gallery of Art Museum in DC Summer of 2023 with my sister and her family. The paintings came to life for me, not only because I was seeing a lot of Monet and Van Gogh paintings (and I love Impressionism) but also because I learned and studied some of them in my Art History class in 2014 and really enjoyed it. I still remember those interesting stories, paintings, and painters that came alive for me from a great Professor. 

Sadly, that was the last time I was in an Art Museum, until yesterday. My parents and I saw the last weekend showing of Manet and Morisot at The Legion of Honor. (I hadn't been there since 2013!)

Legion of Honor Aug. 2013

I've been feeling a lack of inspiration lately or just not as consistently. Walking around and seeing various paintings as well as going to the exhibit of Manet and Morisot was so interesting and intriguing. The inspiration I have been missing was breathing all around me. I had heard and learned some about Manet but never Morisot (I didn't even know she was a woman or would later become an in-law to Manet!) 

The artwork was breath taking; the story and their story was like an invitation to inspiration with a dose of coffee and marble walls. 

I also didn't realize how popular and crowded it would be on the last weekend! It was challenging to not bump into people or block their view. I enjoyed reading the side description of the Manet and Morisot paintings. 

Morisot

Morisot

Morisot

Manet

Can you tell I liked Morisot paintings more than Manet? They feel more Impressionism and not so dark or bold colors...but over time his paintings changed over time and looked to be more of a resemblance of hers. 

They were friends, colleagues and then in-laws (she married his brother, Eugene.) The video clip about them in one of the rooms at the exhibit gave a good overview of their paintings and relationship as painters, friends, and even family. As the clerk who checked me out said, 'There seemed to be rivalry happening between them.'

The outside view of the Museum is gorgeous, and the sky pattern had a nice effect. 

Of course, there isn't really anything that helps you soak up the inspiration and the overall experience than eating at the cafe there for lunch. An au lait coffee was an added warm treat too.