Sometimes (actually, most times) I feel uncomfortable in this "new" and different life of mine (my life has changed drastically in the past year). My "new" life, is a life of a big house with my own room, a car of my own, money to go out to eat if I want. A life of big beautiful picture windows in my living room, and nice, new, clean carpet. A life of traveling to Madison to visit my best friend, just because I feel like it. A life of having a full-time, salaried job with benefits. And, get this - it's a job that I actually enjoy.

Not to complain, of course. I have worked hard to get where I am, and most days I love it. Even if it does feel a little unfamiliar.

I often yearn for the cozy closeness of my old life. The smelly basement I lived in. The terrible, old, dark green carpet, thrift store clothes, permanently dirty kitchen. The broken down furniture. The familiar summer evenings on the couches on our front porch, large-bulbed Christmas lights all aglow, listening to Colin or Jana play guitar. Often singing along.

It reminds me of how it feels when your favorite pair of jeans finally wears out. You have to buy a new pair of jeans, but it takes a while to wear them in. And even then, once they're worn in, they still won't feel quite how those old ones did. Which doesn't mean the new jeans aren't great, of course. They're just different.

I'm sure I'll figure out how to infuse my current life with the things I loved from my old one. And hopefully it will grow to be just as full, and rich, and interesting.

This is just a time of transitions, I suppose.

some poetry and a song for your saturday.

marching in the pride parade.

*Note: none of these photos are mine.  I got them from friends, or pulled them from the event page on facebook. Thanks to all for posting your photos!

This past Sunday, I marched in the Salt Lake City Pride Parade. I had to skip church to go. But it was so worth it.

The experience was very emotional. I am still coming down off the high of having been there, and I am having a hard time finding words to express what it meant to me, but I will do my best.  It was one of those experiences I will remember for a lifetime, I am sure.

My initial decision to attend the parade was a fairly easy one. I have friends who are gay and Mormon. I have heard their stories, and felt their heartbreak at being torn between these two worlds that mean so much to them.  It is heart-wrenching.  Plus, everyone deserves to be loved, respected, cared about, treated fairly. It seems like a no-brainer to me.  I was a little nervous at how we would be received, and so I did think it over for a few days, but when my roommate texted me expressing interest in going, the answer was unequivocally yes.

The night before the parade I began to feel a little more nervous.  Would we be accepted? Would marching even be safe? Would they hate us for taking over their parade? I also felt excited, though.  Excited to step out of my comfort zone a bit, show a little courage, and just be there to show my love and support.  And I was excited to take part with all the other beautiful people and families who were willing to do the same.  I calmed myself down, picked out my best, most Mormon-looking Sunday outfit, and went to bed, anxiously anticipating the parade.

The next morning, we woke up early and carpooled with a couple other friends to downtown Salt Lake City. As we parked and got out of the car, we felt another little explosion of nerves. The leaders of Mormons Building Bridges (the group with which we were marching) had asked us to dress in our most Mormon-looking attire. I was wearing a skirt and cardigan, and carrying my scriptures. My roommate had on a cute light pink dress, knee length with sleeves. Our other friend, a strapless dress with a white t-shirt underneath for modesty (classic, right?).  We knew we would stand out amidst the bright rainbow colors and wild clothing of the parade, and the same fears drifted in... "what if they are angry with us?".  After a moment, we gathered our courage and ventured out of the parking lot, into the crowds.  To our surprise, as we neared the parade line-up, we received a couple encouraging remarks, and sincere "thank yous" from people marching with other groups in the parade.  This buoyed our confidence and settled our nerves a bit, and we continued on excitedly to meet up with the rest of our group.

As we approached, I caught a glimpse of how large the group was. I haven't heard a definitive number on how many were with us, but I've heard estimates from 300 to 475. From what I could tell, we were the largest group in the entire parade (we stayed after we finished marching to watch the rest of the parade).  Everyone was in their suits and ties, little girls had their hair curled, mothers were pushing strollers, surrounded by other children.  Fathers had children perched atop their shoulders, holding signs.  Elderly people were there in wheelchairs or with walkers. It was quite a sight. My heart leapt in pride. We quickly took our places at the back of the lineup.

In the twenty to thirty minutes before we started marching, we saw more and more people come up to thank us for what we were doing.  People from other groups marching in the parade came over and hugged us, thanked us, took pictures with us and our signs.  The excitement and nerves were palpable among us, and it was very hot. We had sweat dripping down our backs before we even started walking, but nothing could have moved us from that line-up. We felt confident, ready.

As soon as we got moving, I noticed people on both sides of us brought to their feet, clapping, cheering. Looks of peace, huge relief, surprise, and excitement on their faces. Any leftover nervousness I felt was gone. Then, as we rounded the first corner, we saw all the parade attendees lined up down the road for blocks, and up went a huge roar (a happy, excited, surprised roar). At that moment I began to feel the emotion welling up within me, and tears sprang to my own eyes as I saw their tears. These people. So many of whom had grown up Mormon and then had to leave their faith behind, with such great pain and struggle. Many of those wounds were still fresh for many, and still painful for most all, I'm sure. I couldn't believe how they were forgiving us.  How readily they loved us.  The pure joy that filled me was tremendous.

As we kept going, and people kept cheering so loudly, and thanking us, I kept thinking "who am I that I deserve the cheers of these people?" All I had done was show up. Humans should love one another, period. That should be an ordinary thing.  Nevertheless we continued onward, handed out lollipops to the children, offered hugs, and shared tears with those who were weeping on the sidelines. I felt I was witnessing the beginning of healing take place. It was a beautiful, beautiful sight.

In the end, I believe that we still have a long way to go. Stepping up to the plate and showing a little Christlike love at the expense of a few nerves and one Sunday at church is a great start.  I only hope that we can continue making progress from here.





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Other coverage you might enjoy:

A summary of several participants thoughts on marching.

An interview with the organizer of Mormons Building Bridges.

News coverage from the actual event, and another article in which I am quoted (and which I feel does a better job of painting a picture of what it felt like to be there).

More video footage taken by Katrina, one of our marchers.

Video by CNN.

Waiting for the parade to start, holding the lollipops we were to hand out, with "Love one another" stickers on them

 You can actually see me in this one! (right third of the photo, brown top, green shoulder bag) I also love the man with the American flag tie, doing the "I love you" sign with his hand

The view from the front of our group (we were right behind the grand marshall of the parade, in the very front)

"No matter what he does, every person on earth plays a central role in the history of the world. And normally he doesn't know it."

~Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

ensalada deliciosa

I made the most delicious salad for lunch today.  While I don't typically share recipes on this blog, I do want to remember what I did today, so that sometime in the future when I am feeling uninspired I can maybe make this same thing.

I threw together:

lettuce
pre-cooked brown rice (leftover from the night before)
black beans (also leftover... I had soaked and boiled up some dry beans a few days before)
fresh tomato
avocado

(I think it would have been really yummy to also add some queso fresco or other cheese, some corn, cilantro... other things of that sort)

then for dressing I just threw on some kosher salt, olive oil*, and lemon juice.

mixed it all together, and voila! Delicious, super easy and fast lunch.





*While we're on the topic of olive oil, you should read this. We recently ran out of olive oil, so when I went to buy some more, I looked for olive oil with those specifications. Sure enough, it is SO delicious! It seriously tastes fruity! And very fresh. Which I love. Plus, fresher equals more nutrition! Woo!

Realizations

Just got back from a trip to Moab with my students and co-workers. We had an awesome time. While I work on writing about that, here are some realizations I've had recently regarding my career explorations.  They maybe seem kind of obvious, but I just recently really learned them for myself:

• I can be and do more than one thing with/in my life.

• Some things can just be hobbies or interests. There are several things that I love, which I don't want to have as a career.

• Just because I am doing one thing now, doesn't mean I have to do that thing and only that thing forever.

• I will change and grow and develop as a person, as time passes, and my needs for a career will change as that happens.  Which just makes life more interesting!

I feel like I've reached a really good place.  Teaching English is perfect. 12 year-olds are fun. Walden is awesome. I love my co-workers.

And teaching. I thought I would never want to be a teacher again.  But coming back to it after a few years of exploration, I can see what a good match it is.  Yes, it can be draining. Yes, planning lessons is sometimes a pain.  But isn't that the case with any job? There will be parts of it I don't like? A huge plus for me, is that I am in control of what happens in my classroom.  I don't have anyone hovering, telling me what to do every second of my day (hallelujah!).  And, there is a ton more social interaction! And I am not sitting at the same desk all day long! ...which I really, really appreciate.

Plus, summer off? I'm totally down with that.

(Today is the last day of school.  Which includes going to Veteran's Memorial Pool for a swim party with all the kids. Pay me to go down waterslides with 12 year olds? Awesome.)