Se busca: libros bellos

[photo: from the book collection of one of the oldest Protestant churches in southern Spain]

When I was little, I loved going to the library. The public library was just across a non-major street from my elementary school. Once every few weeks, we’d walk over there. Initially we would listen to a story from the short-haired librarian whose soft, low voice gave me goosebumps and just made you want to be quiet. (Side note: I wonder if she’s still working there... I might have to make a trip.)
Later, we were released to pick out books to read. I knew exactly where to go: The Boxcar Children. Once I finished those, I headed for the Nancy Drew series. After I finished the Nancy Drew series, I meandered around the Nancy Drew area. In fourth grade, my school bought another building farther away from the library and my library visits mostly ended. Which was okay, because I was a little lost after having read most of the books in the few sections I frequented.
Where do you gravitate when you enter a library or a bookstore? My mom makes a beeline for the magazines, as she is a visual reader and likes to SEE what she’s reading about. Some people hit up the music section. Especially around high school. I definitely hit up the music/ DVD section in high school. For awhile, I would browse the theology/ faith section, and later the psychology area.
In recent days, I have found myself a little bit lost when I enter the library. When I take my two tutoring kids, we go to the Spanish section and then to the easy children’s books. Today, however, was different. Today I went to the library alone. I didn’t have anything on hold, and there was no Spanish section. (Seriously?! No Spanish section?)
I found myself perusing the recent releases, and later the poetry and fiction sections, but I didn’t find anything I wanted to check out except Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendack. The section I wanted to go to simply does not exist at my local library. Or any library for that matter.
If I could create a section full of books I wanted to read, it would not be brimming with Nancy Drew mysteries or even Sherlock Holmes mysteries (which I recently devoured with great gusto and remembered why I am severely near-sighted.) No, if I could create a section of books, I would fill it with books that are strikingly beautiful. Fictional stories like The Help or Anne of Green Gables or maybe even a few mysteries or nonfictional stories of people on journeys like Eat, Pray, Love. Books that make me laugh out loud by authors like Anne Lamott and Spanish and English children’s stories. Literature for adolescents, such as Seed Folk. I’d fill this section with books that I could sit down and read until my eyes hurt and my head spun from being transported to another place and time and then coming back to reality; and I’d fill it with books that made me slow down to digest each tiny bite of wisdom like The Novice by Thich Naht Hanh or Everything Belongs by Richard Rohr. Of course I’d intersperse some pop psychology or sociology like The Blue Zones and some poetry like that of Ted Kooser; but mostly, I’d want to read stories. Beautiful stories. Like Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers or The Alchemist by Paulo Coehlo
So. There is no section like this in the library. That is okay. I will go about weaving a section with epic tales of Narnia, children’s books like Habría Que and The Shadow Spinner, and more that I have yet to discover...

Shh, it's a secret.

 I know the sweetest woman in the world. She doesn't speak English.

Lucky me. I speak Spanish.

things that break my hea ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah art

People being excluded.
From what?
a country (even if not my own)
a classroom, education should be for everyone.
a good meal, healthy food
friendships
birthday parties
a safe place to sleep at night and a place to bathe.

and yet... I know I exclude people on a regular basis.

How can I make space for them while maintaining space for me?
(And why does that sound selfish when I know it's wise?)
What are boundaries?
Where's the line?
Is there a line?


What is love?
(baby don't hurt me)

just wondering...

quote

“Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery it is. In the boredom and pain of it, no less than in the excitement and gladness: touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it, because in the last analysis all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace.” - Frederick Buechner

Changing locations on the web

Hello blog followers,
I am transitioning my blog over to tumblr. Here is the address:

http://mirror-espejo.tumblr.com/

I'd love to have you come visit!

Spring time wonderings, childhood questions

We say some interesting things to little kids. Sometimes I think about the repercussions. We gush over little girls who are dressed up, proclaiming them beautiful only when they are looking most made up. We ask children what their drawing is supposed to be, instead of letting it be simply an exploration of how to hold the pencil and using different colors. And we ask them "what do you want to be when you grow up?"

I'm not sure how I feel about the last question. It certainly helps to clarify the child's interests and help him/her imagine how they could pursue them all the time. But to me, it also made it sound like growing up was a destination. "What do you want to do after you cross that line that is college and find your destiny!!?"

Welp. I got to college, got that diploma, and here I am. Me and a lot of my peers. Wondering what exactly happened - or didn't happen - and if I'm in the right place. But let's go back to little Ellen for a moment. What did she say when people asked her that ever present question, "So, what do you want to be when you grow up?"

You know what I said? Two or three things. This is how it went:
Little me:"I don't know!"
Adult: "Oh really??"
Little me: "Yeah, I mean probably a mom, but I don't really know."
Adult: "Like a stay at home mom?"
Little me: "Yeah. I think that'd be cool."
Adult: (Varying responses, usually affirmative and letting me know I could be a mom AND have a career. If I wanted.)
Little me: "I guess maybe I could be a teacher. Maybe. But I really don't know. Or I want to be a mom"

When I think back about this experience, so many things strike me. The fact that my mom was an awesome stay-at-home mom. How I thought her job was awesome because she could pack our lunches and write sweet notes, pick us up from school with a cooler that had two popscicles in it for after school snacks, bring us snack trays when we were playing, help out with our school and sit with us when math was just too hard. (long division is TRICKY!) How I still think my mom is awesome and everyone should be blessed enough to receive one of her care packages. That to me, being a teacher was sort of like second class interactions with kiddos, but I thought maybe I could settle for it if I had to.

I think there is some value in going back and remembering your own answer to this question: What did you want to be when you "grew up"? That little person is still inside you somewhere. Did you become that thing? I'm super interested in your answers, so whether you comment or start a conversation with me, I'd love to know.

Now. Obviously I am not a mama. And that is OKAY. (Don't freak out y'all.) Where does that leave me, though? What the heck am I supposed to be doing right now if it isn't that and if teaching has been feeling a little murky lately?

What the heck am I supposed to be doing? THIS. This is what I'm supposed to be doing. Living with my roomie. Dating my boyfriend. Hanging out with my friends. Doing yoga. Cooking lentil soup. Learning to not rush through or into anything and to be satisfied with less. Practicing being content in a less than perfect world and opening myself up to others in love.

I don't always feel that way. In fact, most days recently, it seems like I am swimming in anxiety over what I'm doing or not doing with my life. Why is X not happening now? Why can't I just Y? Why does money suck? Maybe a better question for little kids (and big "grown up" ones) is "How do you want to be when you're older?" I want to be peaceful, spacious, and joyful. I want to be connected with God, others, nature. I don't want to swim in anxiety over what I'm "supposed to be doing" when what I am doing now is okay. My discontent about certain things is worth listening to, but I will no longer allow it to steer the course of my emotions in a day.

And you know what? If I asked a little kid how they wanted to be when they were older, I think it might lead to some great conversation about how good and beautiful and wonderful and special they are right now. Don't stress about the future, baby. The present is good.

rest

I live in the same town I grew up in, a bicycle ride away from my childhood home.

There's something really nice about that. It's nice to feel rooted in the patch of earth where I spent those magical, hazy years called childhood. This is my place. This is my home. And yet... living in a context that is familiar to you makes you question fewer assumptions about it. Today, I am thinking about the American value of work. I think hard work is important. I also think rest is important. Yesterday and today, I have been resting and resting and resting. I have spent most of the time in my pajamas in my bed alternating between reading Sherlock Holmes and Eat, Pray, Love, watching online TV, and surfing the 'net. Sometimes I change it up and lay on the couch, sometimes I wander into the kitchen for a cup of tea or a snack.

In any case, these things are only the very start of rest. Because sometimes you have to be rested in order to rest.