Physic major's in an art show!

It was too weird...

A couple weeks ago I entered a drawing to an art contest sponsored by Blue Moon Brewing Company. The only guideline was that it had to have the Blue Moon logo in it somewhere. Anyway, I got chosen as a finalist for the Boston regional show. On Thursday, we went down there to a swanky show and got free beer...

This kind of stuff doesn't happen to physics majors!

pictures...

This is my team!!!Yesterday I volunteered at Farm Aid...the longest running benefit concert in the states. It supports local and family farms, started by Neil Young, Willie Nelson, and John Mellencamp. Pretty amazing.
This is my teammate at Farm Aid making bio-diversity projectiles (balls of seeds and clay that we can plant in the spring).
And this is my volunteer station...sorting through the trash, compost, and recycling to make sure people got it right! Cool for the first hour, then it got a bit smelly...

This was another volunteer event we did this week. We staffed transition areas on a 200 mile relay race. And we got to wear funny hats.

And did I mention that I made it on the cover of Rolling Stone?

The Rabbi's Gift

Here's a story:

The story concerns a monastery that had fallen upon hard times. Once a great order, as a result of waves of anti-monastic persecution in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries and the rise of secularism in the nineteenth, all its branch houses were lost and it had become decimated to the extent that there were only five monks left in the decaying mother house: the abbot and four others, all over seventy in age. Clearly it was a dying order.

In the deep woods surrounding the monastery there was a little hut that a rabbi from a nearby town occasionally used for a hermitage. Through their many years of prayer and contemplation the old monks had become a bit psychic, so they could always sense when the rabbi is in his hermitage. "The rabbi is in the woods, the rabbi is in the woods again," they would whisper to each other. As he agonized over the imminent death of his order, it occurred to the abbot at one such time to visit the hermitage and ask the rabbi if by some possible chance he could offer any advice that might save the monastery.

The rabbi welcomed the abbot at his hut. But when the abbot explained the purpose of his visit, the rabbi could only commiserate with him. "I know how it is," he exclaimed. "The spirit has gone out of the people. It is the same in my town. Almost no one comes to the synagogue anymore." So the old abbot and the old rabbi wept together. Then they read parts of the Torah and quietly spoke of deep things. The time came when the abbot had to leave. They embraced each other. "It has been a wonderful thing that we should meet after all these years," the abbot said, "but I have still failed in my purpose for coming here. Is there nothing you can tell me, no piece of advice you can give me that would help me save my dying order?"

"No, I am sorry," the rabbi responded. "I have no advice to give. The only thing I can tell you is that the Messiah is one of you."

When the abbot returned to the monastery his fellow monks gathered around him to ask, "Well, what did the rabbi say?"

"He couldn't help," the abbot answered. "We just wept and read the Torah together. The only thing he did say, just as I was leaving--it was something cryptic--was that the Messiah is one of us. I don't know what he meant."

In the days and weeks and months that followed, the old monks pondered this and wondered whether there was any possible significance to the rabbi's words. The Messiah is one of us? Could he possibly have meant one of us monks here at the monastery? If that's the case, which one? Do you suppose he meant the abbot? Yes, if he meant anyone, he probably meant Father Abbot. He has been our leader for more than a generation. On the other hand, he might have meant Brother Thomas. Certainly Brother Thomas is a holy man. Everyone knows that Thomas is a man of light. Certainly he could not have meant Brother Elred! Elred gets crotchety at times. But come to think of it, even though he is a thorn in people's sides, when you look back on it, Elred is virtually always right. Often very right. Maybe the rabbi did mean Brother Elred. But surely not Brother Phillip. Phillip is so passive, a real nobody. But then, almost mysteriously, he has a gift for somehow always being there when you need him. He just magically appears by your side. Maybe Phillip is the Messiah. Of course the rabbi didn't mean me. He couldn't possibly have meant me. I'm just an ordinary person. Yet supposing he did? Suppose I am the Messiah? O God, not me. I couldn't be that much for You, could I?
As they contemplated in this manner, the old monks began to treat each other with extraordinary respect on the off chance that one among them might be the Messiah. And on the off chance that each monk himself might be the Messiah, they began to treat themselves with extraordinary respect.

Because the forest in which it was situated was beautiful, it so happened that people still occasionally came to visit the monastery to picnic on its tiny lawn, to wander along some of its paths, even now and then to go into the dilapidated chapel to meditate. As they did so, without even being conscious of it, they sensed this aura of extraordinary respect that now began to surround the five old monks and seemed to radiate out from them and permeate the atmosphere of the place. There was something stragely attractive, even compelling, about it. Hardly knowing why, they began to come back to the monastery more frequently to picnic, to play, to pray. They began to bring their friends to show them this special place. And their friends brought their friends.

Then it happened that some of the younger men who came to visit the monastery started to talk more and more with the old monks. After a while one asked if he could join them. Then another. And another. So within a few years the monastery had once again become a thriving order and, thanks to the rabbi's gift, a vibrant center of light and spirituality in the realm.

--Origin unknown, from M. Scott Peck The Different Drum: Community Making and Peace

The red coats are coming...

Well, they don't have red coats yet. And no, I'm not talking about the British. Tomorrow is the day the corps arrives! These will be the people I am leading for the next year. I am very excited to meet them.

The whole leadership team has spent the last several months preparing for their arrival: making presentations, setting standards, planning events, yada yada yada. And now we get to use it.

Of course I am not prepared, I could use a couple more days to get all my ducks in a row and finish my to-do list (yea, I started making to-do lists...). But I am soooo excited to drop all that and meet the people I'll we working with. I wont know who is on my team for another few weeks, but this is the beginning of a whole new world!

I'll let you know how it goes...

Today was a beautiful day. It was a hopeful day where everything just came together. I spent the morning researching for an after-school program I will help led this year and things just kept coming together. To quote Paulo Cohelo, it was as if the universe was conspiring to arrange things in my favor.

I am truly hopeful tonight that things are good in the world. That there are enough people struggling toward wholeness, integration, and humanity that we wont be overcome. And that's a beautiful thing!

It begins...

My hamster, Ferdinand, died this weekend. I came back from a week in Boston to find him. I was very sad. I am tempted to reflect here about life and death, but I've got something else to talk about.

Today was a new beginning. We started back at our office located in Timberland's headquarters in Stratham, NH. It is good to be back. The office and the drive is all so familiar, but there is also a different air to this year. We are all back here to start fresh and we are all inspired (dare I say idealistic) enough to do it.

We talked a lot today about big picture stuff, which I like. We talked about our roles for this year and the sites general goals. We also each chose a practice to be in charge of this year. They ranged from very City Year phrases, like "It takes a village" which means we all have to take care of each other to simple things like "Encourage creativity". I chose one that states "Celebrate and share small successes" which basically just means that I want to make sure that everyone feels appreciated this year. It is hard when I am in the midst of something, like planning a service project, to stop and remember to celebrate but it is really the key to getting through.

I have also been thinking about some things I want to work on this year. I have never been the official leader of a group, so I am very excited to see what comes out leading a team a five corps members in my school. I feel like I have lots of good ideas but putting them into practice is going to be a challenge. Along with that, I want to work on my self confidence in large groups...including public speaking. I feel like I could be good at it, I just get really nervous even talking to a small group. Practice? So I want to challenge myself in this area.

There are other challenges, but those are the two that come to mind right now. I'll let you know how it goes.

Peace.

I love the IDEA of City Year

So, here is a long overdue post.

My summer break has come and gone. It was full of travel, the southwest, good friends, laughter, ocean, silence, neon lights, prayer, family, and a whole lotta love! What more could I ask for. It is not well documented like last summer's excursions, but I think I like it that way. I stayed very much in the moment.

And now I am back in the northeast with all its people and humidity. I am actually in Boston at the moment. I flew home to New Hampshire last Friday, spent Saturday moving into my new apartment in Manchester, then drove down here for a week long training with City Year people from all over the country. It's called Summer Academy.

So, three million years ago I promised you all more of a reason for why I decided to come back to City Year. The most honest reason is probably that committing to grad school scared me. But aside from deciding what I want to do with my life, at the end of last year I felt like I was not done with City Year. That I had a lot left to learn. That I had a lot left to give.

And that was confirmed these last two days. I love the values that City Year is founded on, the care and ideals that the leaders bring. I love feeling like I am part of something bigger than myself. This was a weird realization for me since I always considered myself a very independent person. But there you have it!

Yesterday during training we talked about our presence as leaders. The thing I enjoyed most is the emphasis they put on using silence. There is power in silence that many leaders don't know how to harness and tend to fill up with words. But even just a moment of silence centers a group and centers the leader. We practiced by writing a statement, "I serve because...", and then presenting that statement to a small group. We all practiced using silence and our presence with a group. As my new friend Lan would say, good stuff!

The evening session was based on the book, "The Anatomy of Peace". I have not read it, but I am very curious now I don't want to try to explain it because my tired brain will not do it justice but I'll let you know after I read it. In short it is the idea of interacting with people from a Heart at Peace not a Heart at War and seeing others and People not Objects. Also good stuff.

So that is why I came back to City Year. With all its flaws and the frustrating times I had last year, being around a group of people committed enough to teach and live these ideas is good for me. I am learning, I am putting into practice a lot of things I learned during college, and hopefully I am teaching what I can. I came back to City Year because there is no other place for me at this moment where I can practice and screw up and keep trying the ideals that I hold in my heart. I am glad that I am here.

Tonight the CEO of City Year talked to the group. It was inspirational on so many levels; I came out of it feeling like a sugar-hyped, sleep-deprived, twelve-year-old at a sleep over with her best friends, if you know what I mean :) But he left us with this. City Year has a motto, "Give a year. Change the world." Micheal Brown challenged us in the next twenty years to grow. "Give a year. Change the universe". Heck yea!