Meditation... who knew?

I have this really fascinating class that's a mix between studying philosophy/reasoning and current issues. We study the works of different philosophers and apply their theories to real life controversial scenarios, where each student is forced to make a choice about what they believe and argue it logically. I chose to take this course from a particular professor who I heard made meditation a regular part of class, so naturally, I was curious.

He allows a slot of about five minutes at the beginning of every class for students to meditate. He even uses a meditation bell to signal the beginning of our meditation. We've done this all semester, and it's been a very enlightening process, but today's class was especially interesting. You see, today, he encouraged us to meditate specifically about people who have made a difference. His wording, however, made me feel that he meant the people who have come into your life for stages, or even just moments, and have left a lifelong impression. The people that instantly came to my mind sparked an epiphany.

Of course, my mind quickly flashed through images of my friends and family, but as my purpose was to recognize the people who were in so many ways a brief, but lasting, part of my memories, my thoughts quickly brought me to an unexpected, but obvious figure: Ms. Douglas, my Spanish teacher and Assistant Principle at my high school. She is the most accepting person I know. In spite of our mistakes, petty drama, and bad attitudes, she always cared. She helped me to see the values within myself...which was so significant for a 17 year old girl who was so unsure of her future. Even more so, she reminded me of who I was, and who I wanted to be, even when I forgot. Forgive me the cliches, but it's true. After I got married, I was terrified of the reactions I would get from my high school friends. Getting married at 20 was not anything anyone imagined for me, not even me...and I purposely avoided conversations with my high school classmates and teachers because I was afraid...afraid to recognize that things would never be the same and afraid to let go of the past. She met me one afternoon at Starbucks so that she could meet my husband, and while he left to buy us a smoothie, she scolded me for being afraid to tell her, for acting ashamed of something I didn't need to be ashamed of. She reminded me that the people who love you will always love you, no matter what.


The next people who found their way into my meditation were similar individuals who left very unique traces behind. I thought of my third grade teacher, Ms. Romney, that helped me to believe that I could learn English, no matter how difficult the task seemed. I thought of my 10th grade history and homeroom teacher, Mr. Vogel, who always made me feel like my opinions mattered, even though I was just a kid, and adults often overlook teenager's opinions. We regularly chatted about religion and politics during our check ins. He also taught me the true meaning of forgiveness and the value of integrity. I thought of my fourth grade music teacher, Mrs. Q, who noticed my singing potential and made sure that I became a part of choir, even though I was too shy to sing in front of anyone. Or Sister Arnell, who ruthlessly tore my work apart until I polished it up so much I almost didn't believe I was capable of writing so professionally. I also thought of my junior year English professor and soccer coach, Mr. Spencer, who saw leadership potential in me and taught me that sometimes its better to be a leader than to be the star. I thought of my favorite college professor, Brother Peck, who helped me to discover my passion for the Middle East and who allowed me to regularly meet him in his office just for a chat or debate, and who always ended each visit with "Thanks for giving me the chance to get to know you a little better." I noticed a patterned. It continued...Ms. Dunn's passion for literature. Brother Sturm's warm wisdom. Ms. Bowman's fun and enduring willingness to look after the students left behind. Ms. Scalia's attitude. Ms. Ensina's love and dedication, and so many others whose names I might have spaced, but who still have a special place in my heart.

And then, something hit me.... the people that have come and gone into my life and left powerful impressions were all teachers. And I realized, as I prepare to graduate in July, there's a lot of possibilities ahead of me, but I think being a teacher would be the most satisfying career path for someone like me. I used to think that in order to be successful and accomplished, I had to prove something to the world. I felt like I had to become a doctor, lawyer, CEO, diplomat, or psychologist to prove that my parent's move to the U.S. from Brazil wasn't in vain. All my life, I had been "the smart one," or as my father often called me, his little "retirement plan." So many people in my life have told me that I would excel at those professions, but the truth is that I've always been afraid, none of those ever felt quite right....

So, no, I'm still not exactly sure where my life is taking me, but I can't think of any profession that leaves as much of an impression in the life of a child or teenager then someone who dedicated their lives to teaching them about life... In today's society, teachers are probably seeing students more than parents do... and while no one should ever take the place of a parent in a person's life, I know that my teachers helped me more than I can ever explain... And if I can do what they've done for me for just one kid, I'm sure that's the greatest success anyone can ever have.

So there, meditation... who knew?

A Thought on Religion, Politcs & Civility

I'm keeping it simple today, just sharing something I read that rang incredibly loud and true in my customarily cynic ears... If you'd like to read the entire piece I'm quoting, please read Instruments of the Lord's Peace by Robert S. Wood (http://www.lds.org/general-conference/2006/04/instruments-of-the-lords-peace?lang=eng).

"There is nothing in the world more deleterious or harmful to the human family than hatred, prejudice, suspicion, and the attitude that some people toward their fellows of unkindness...Whenever your politics cause you to speak unkindly of your brethren, know this, that you are upon dangerous ground...This is not a militant church to which we belong. This is a church that holds out peace to the world. It is not our duty to on into the world and find fault with others, neither to criticize men because they do not understand. But it is our privilege, in kindness and love, to go among them and divide with them the truth that the Lord has revealed in this latter day" (George Albert Smith, Mormon Prophet).

In other words, sure, stand up for what you believe, but don't be so concerned about your rights that you forget about your manners.

Benchmark #1

Something unbelievable happened to me today. I'll begin with some background information. I bought a scale at the beginning of January and signed up for an aerobic fitness class. I was determined to become healthier. You see, at the beginning of this year, I realized that I had gained 25 pounds from the time I graduated high school in 2009 (putting me at 155 pounds). It's funny because I was always self conscious, even in high school when my weight was not as saddening as it was at the beginning on January.

In fact, I have been self conscious since long before high school. I weighed 130 pounds in high school, which isn't overweight for my height, but I felt very aware of my extra 10 pounds whenever I sported my one piece swimsuit next to my skinny, bikini wearing best friends. I never resented them for how beautiful they seemed to me, but, over time, I increasingly lost confidence in my physical appearance. In fact, by the time I turned eight years old, I had long decided that I would be "the smart one" among my group of friends, and I have worked hard to keep that as my stereotype. For years, I pretended that fashion and make up didn't interest me, because, as the smart one, I had better things to worry about.

(That's me in the front: the smart 12 year old with the great personality)
(Me in the middle: the one with glasses and braces between the two models)

At the age of 20, weighing 155 pounds scared me. In the words of a poet, I felt that my mirrors ought to have wept from shame and shock (Pablo Neruda, Walking Around). I always pretended I didn't care about being a little overweight, but it was impossible trying to ignore this simple fact when comparing me to the other beautiful women I grew up with, especially considering my heritage. I was born in Brazil, you know, the country that exports plastic surgery and super models more than any other country in the world? Being a Brazilian in America created even more pressure for me, especially when people would tell me that I didn't look Brazilian (they didn't have to mention my weight for me to know exactly what they meant).

My weight has fluctuated throughout my life... You see, I played a lot of sports and had a very flattering boyfriend by the time I hit my late teen years, which definitely increased my self esteem. I wanted to look beautiful, and so I did. But the pressures of college, broken hearts, jobs, religious responsibilities, and marriage got the best of me, and now I'm the heaviest I've ever been in my life...

So, I took an inventory of my health, and realized that I was going down a dangerous path of unthoughtful meals and inactivity. I found a work out buddy, several in fact, began planning meals, and began working out for at least an hour for six days a week. And so, here today, I am happy to announce I have crossed my first milestone. At 147 pounds, I was shocked to discover that I had lost eight pounds! This is by no means the end of my journey, but I feel amazing...and so here's an ode to the weight I've lost, and the simple joys of a healthy life that lie before me.

Just barely made it...

Somehow I made it back to bed this evening. What a day. Between waking up early, getting ready, and running back and forth between classes, the gym, and work, it felt like this day would never end. It also help my sense of perseverance that I spent all week dreading the exam I had to take today for my Politics of Advanced Industrialized Nations (you know it's gonna be a killer exam when the acronym for your course title spells out P.A.I.N.).

When I finally made it back home from school at 10PM (something I haven't done since before I got married), I was not ready to make dinner very elaborate, so we ate a plate of sliced mango grapes, grapefruit, and apples. I must proudly admit that somehow I faithfully resisted the urge to stop by any drive-through on the way home.

At the end of these days, if I'm awake and aware enough to do so, I look back and wonder how it was that I survived. Chris reminded me this morning that if I could only make it through the next 24 hours, it'd be over. That's it. 24 Hours. Yet, somehow, this seemed like it would be my longest 24 hours yet, and I felt so discouraged.

But here I am: laying in bed, glancing over at the stack of student essays I have to grade by tomorrow morning, blogging, and feeling so relaxed. Maybe I should attribute this day's success to the hour I spent doing yoga... Or maybe it was Chris's wise council this morning. Or perhaps it was the silent prayers I kept repeating in my heart along the way.

Whatever the source of this day's success, it reminded me that maybe this is just what life is? When you're in the middle the most difficult tasks, it's hard to know how you're going to keep going; but if you keep pushing, just a little longer, you can lay your head down on your pillow at night, take a deep breath, and know that no matter what obstacles you'll find in your way next, you've survived them once before, so there's nothing keeping you from doing so again.