So, I guess you could say paper writing is going... well?

#SO #MANY #IDEAS!!!

Today Samara Learned... [Day 8]

about Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response (ASMR).  She learned that this is the technical term for the tingling she occasionally gets on the back of her neck and head.  She learned that not everyone experiences this sensation, which she found surprising and fascinating.  Furthermore, she found that scientists do not know what causes ASMR or what percentage of people experience it.  They also can't quantify it with data, but believe that ASMR could have many positive benefits, such as relieving stress and anxiety or helping people sleep better.

A student mentioned his interest in this field just in passing.  In one of her many flights of academic fancy, Samara is now wondering if she could join a team of neurologists to help lead the way to discovering a phenomenal break through in the field...

To know the words in the books

This is a poem inspired by my 3-year-old nephew, Ross.  He's just beginning to learn his letters after announcing to his mom, "I don't know the words in the books like you and dad."  That line really moved me, so I wrote the following.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Synapses form in the child's brain -
connections of how and why and when
and where things work.
The codex marvels his months-old mind -
flipping pages, imbibing color, revealing
knowledge and narrative.
Growing older, learning the words,
hearing the stories now, and imploring,
"Read it again."
Older still, he realizes when "grown ups"
open the book, they see more than
shapes and symbols.
The child knows, implicitly - even if
inarticulately - that to some the book
offers impartation.
Seeking the gift, he whispers, "Mom,
I don't know the words in the books
like you and dad ."
So, he discovers another level of learning
Sensory of the mind, not of the fingers
or nose or tongue.
He begins the distinctly human process
of extracting meaning from symbols
and sounds from shapes.
The pain and frustration and delight of
learning become milestones on his quest
to possess this gift.
This precious boy, just setting out on
the road of language and learning
makes me marvel.
For like the little boy, I am seeking
to "know the words in the books,"
to extract the meaning.
He reminds me of the gift, of my
gratitude and of my hope to share
this impartation.

Do you ever get overwhelmed with the reality of existence?  The weightiness of life?  Like you can glimpse some bit of eternity or something.

I've only heard a bit about the turmoil in Egypt.  I read about accidental deaths or murders on a daily basis.  I see hatred in the world. 

I also see love.  I see people do beautiful things.  Even simple acts sometimes make me want to cry.  I see contagious vulnerability and it makes me want to live transparently, generously, humbly. 

Sometimes it seems to be too much.  There is so much of every extreme in this world.  We've found a million ways to divide humanity and only a handful to unite.  That handful of reasons are strong though.  I'm realizing more and more that God doesn't view us through our divisions.  He didn't see the woman at the well as "a Samaritan."  He doesn't see Egyptians or Americans.  He doesn't see race the way we do.  He sees His family - both those who are lost and those who have been found by Him.  We can be so harsh, so critical.  What if I was born in Syria rather than the US?  What if I was a druggie-baby in foster care?  What if I lived in poverty with little educational encouragement?  I am immensely grateful for where and when God placed me.  But how can I take pride in something I had no control over?  So who am I to judge?

The Lord has been speaking to me about seeing the sameness rather than seeing the differences.  I want to love all his people.  This leads some people to think I'm over-sensitive.  But when you truly empathize with another human being - how could I not be sensitive when people say such harsh things about them or, even worse, when they completely ignore them?   I'm not perfect at this.  More than not, I probably do incredibly insensitive things.  I know I don't empathize enough.  If I did, I'm pretty sure my priorities would look completely different.  But I am listening to Father, and I'm allowing Him to change my priorities - if ever so slowly.  But even when it's painful - I'm grateful.  Because when it comes down to it, there is not much of a difference between me and the overlooked, unloved people so far away. 

Today, this is my glimpse of life.  It is a weight on my soul.  But it is also a gift.

There is no great difference between us.  In the words of GK Chesterton:  “We are all in the same boat, in a stormy sea, and we owe each other a terrible loyalty.”

My Grand Little Adventure...

My grand little adventure…

It is a very strange thing, growing up. As an 18 year-old woman, people expect me to be responsible and be able to handle myself. What they don’t realize is that despite my fair grades and quasi-professional demeanor, I am just a little girl.

Mind you, I am growing up… I don’t have peter-pan syndrome, and I don’t shirk responsibility… But I am a little naïve and I still get excited about the funniest things. To put it shortly, I am just not as grown up as I appear.

As evidence of this, I have decided to put forth today’s adventure.

But first, a little background: Everyday I travel across beautiful Lake Washington to attend college. Although the campus and its surroundings first struck me as vague, unfamiliar, and pretty scary, I have become quite at home in most of the area. I have conquered the bus routes, discovered short cuts to my classes, and found a few favorite spots off campus. But today I was presented with a challenge just as vague, unfamiliar, and scary as going to school had been at first—Downtown Seattle. I wanted to go visit my friends from Eventforce after classes were over. But it presented quite a challenge. I didn’t know off the top of my head how exactly to get there or what obstacles I should plan for.

So thus began my research. I had seen buses on campus that read “Downtown,” so I figured that it shouldn’t be too difficult. I opened up several tabs on Safari to compare different bus routes and found that many buses would work for my particular scenario. That was before school this morning. I then spent a good portion of my history lecture examining Seattle from a “google maps” point of view. I am slightly ashamed that I am SO unfamiliar with the streets of my native city. I’ve been down there several times, but someone else was always driving, someone else was always leading or pointing me in the right direction. So there I sat, taking down notes regarding the beginning of urban life in the 11th century—and staring at street names on a map such as “Denny,” “Olive,” and “Pike.”

I guess this would be a good time to explain one of my quirks. I need orientation. Fortunately, it comes fairly easy to me. I have a gift, I suppose. When I am in the mall, I can go into a store, come out of the store, and know exactly which direction I was originally heading. Nothing too exciting, but it impresses my dazed older sister. This orientation-craving also expresses itself in my mild obsession with maps. I have a map of Europe that has all the cities I want to travel to marked on it. When I went on my MC tour, I bought a map just so I would know where we were. I just love maps. And I always want to know where I am…

So, after thorough investigation, it was time to set off and get where I needed to go without much but my memory to go off of.

I successfully caught one of the right buses and within minutes I was in the Seattle bus tunnel. After ascending to the street, I started on foot to the convention center. This is where being a little girl fits back in. I was walking along the streets of Down-town Seattle and it struck me – I am still such a little girl. Not too long ago, I wasn’t allowed to leave my cul-de-sac. Now I am traipsing through the streets of a large metropolis all by myself. How did this happen? When did this happen?

I quickly (and uneventfully) arrived at the convention center, where I enjoyed seeing a few friends and frequently experiencing deja vu. After the visit was over, I was able to easily navigate myself back to the bus tunnel and catch the bus home…

Ah, what a grand little adventure. Tune in tomorrow for my next planned