Hope...

Hope is like a path on the mountainside.
At first there is no path.
But then there are people passing that way,
And then there is a path.’

-Lu Xun-

The purge...

I'm back in Canada for a visit, and currently at my folk's place. One thing that I've needed to get done for ages is to rid my parent's basement of the piles of Keren-related memorabilia that have been littering it for, well, decades. I knew it was time when I walked into my old room and realized that it looked as though I had died and someone had erected a shrine in my honour. It was me, everywhere! On the walls, in boxes in the closet, choking up the bookshelf. It was way too much.

On the whole, it's been rather refreshing to throw away bags of old odds and ends and officially giving up on projects I'll never complete (i.e. scrapbooks- I HATE scrapbooking). It's also been somewhat entertaining unearthing things like old notes from my friends in high school (oh, the drama!) and a stack of handmade cards from my first class as a student teacher (my favourite being the one written by an anonymous 9 yr old that reads, "Miss Massey is made of chocolate and rainbows!").

On the other hand, I've found some parts of the process a bit sad. I spent six years in undergraduate education and I worked myself to the bone during that time. I worked while I studied (regularly working all night and then attending lectures the whole of the next day- perhaps not one of my most prudent decisions) and jumped into a ream of time consuming extracurriculars. At the end of those six years I had a handful of credentials, ridiculously high grades, no debt and not a shred of energy left for anything. I was even tired of people. Sometimes I think I'm still suffering from a bit of undergraduate fatigue.

Strangely enough, throwing out stacks of old lecture notes and workbooks from that period in my life was surprisingly hard. I knew I'd never use them again, but somehow having a row of cardboard boxes full of uni related memorabilia was validating. I had evidence that I did something and that it was worth all that it cost to do it. I've been putting off getting rid of this stuff for years, but this time I finally accepted that never would I sit my grandchildren down and read them one of my truly pedantic exegeses of words from the original Greek. So, I threw it all away with the exception of that stack of cards and an essay I wrote ages ago about feminism which I figured would be good for a laugh.

There is a line from the old TV show The Wonder Years that says, "Change is never easy. You fight to hold on. You fight to let go." I've been thinking about that quote both whilst sorting through boxes and whilst bringing the UK chapter of my life to an end. It is always a struggle to hold on to the things from the past that you should keep. It's always a struggle to let go of the things from the past that have no business in your future. It is never easy. I've found it hard to leave many places in the last few years, but I found it especially difficult to leave my home and community and life in London.

Change is hard, at least it's hard for me, but I am learning that all that is really changing is the props and the scenery (which I can let go) but that the real, true, important things remain the same (like God, and relationships- those are the things that I'll keep).

Let me conclude with a classic photo of me at my 6th grade science fair which I came across in my rummaging. I was a nerd from the womb, it would appear. Please note my yawn-inspiring project on "Tides". My three most pressing questions about this photo are 1) did I need glasses that thick, 2)why do I look so interested in the topic, and 3) why do those other girls look so interested? Maybe I paid them off to pose for the photo. By the by, I kept that project for YEARS before it got thrown away.

Out for a curry...

Logan, I keep forgetting to tell you that Flat Stanley and I went out for lunch last month just before he posted himself back to you. We went to a place called Camden. There is a big market there and if your mom ever comes to visit me I will take her there- she would love it!

Glad to hear that Stanley made it back to Three Hills safe and sound! Hope you are having lots of fun. Give my love to your sister and brother. I miss you guys!

Gifts...

This could easily be a Mary Oliver tribute blog. I love her poetry.

I've been thinking about this particular poem lately, and not because I'm unhappy or because anything is wrong. There is just something about it that I think is very beautiful and true and deeply comforting.

Hope it encourages someone out there today.

The Uses of Sorrow

(In my sleep I dreamed this poem)

Someone I loved once gave me
a box full of darkness.

It took me years to understand
that this, too, was a gift.

-Mary Oliver

Old material...

Cousin Laura,

I was looking through some photos from my brother's wedding and this one reminded me of something...something from the past...

(Victoria, Canada, 2011)

Which was, of course, this photo. Are they not strangely similar? Why are our facial expressions exactly the same? And what possessed us to wear scarves on our heads?

(Mucombeze, Mozambique, 2010)

Sadly, this is not the first time that something like this has occurred: http://notlikejacob.blogspot.com/2010/03/dear-laura.html

I think we're in a rut.

Egads...

I haven't blogged in ages. Please accept this link to my recent Facebook photo album as a proxy for the 15 or so blog posts I should have written in the last little while:

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150834402225215.746907.804750214&l=f8b553aba2&type=1

The project...

Since getting back from my brother's wedding my focus has been on getting my dissertation finished as the due date draws nigh...very, very nigh.

I told my tutor that I would get my first draft to him by today, August 10th. In retrospect, that was a bit ambitious.

Anyways, after a rather sleepless night, a brief nap at dawn and then a few more hours of frantic edits, my first draft is submitted!

I stumbled out of my room at about 1:30pm exultant and full of joy! According to my housemates I also bore a strange resemblance to a mad scientist.

And now I guess I'd better clean up the post thesis-writing mess...

Love

My brother got married this last Sunday. I am so happy for them. I am so happy that I could be there.

The bride and groom set off on their new bicycle for two!

London

"New ideas must use old buildings."

Jane Jacobs

Inside the Natural History Museum.

Love this shot of St. Paul's in the gloom.

White Tower at the Tower of London.

One of my favourite places in the British Museum.

Victoria Monument at Buckingham Palace.

Westminster Abbey.

Canada Day

On Canada Day there was a big shindig here in London at Trafalgar Square.

My friends Celia (Italian) and Meghan (Americano) kindly accompanied me to the celebrations.

(Here are Megs and Cel with their loves. It's a great shot, no? Okay, on to Canada Day...)

Here are Megs and Cel surrounded by friendly Canadians with the lovely National Gallery in the background (by the by, Trafalgar Square is probably my favourite place in London, hands down. It was the first place I took my brother when he visited and, while I won't name any names, I will say that one of us got a bit emotional. It's just that lovely).

Here is me proudly wearing my Vancouver 2010 Olympic t-shirt! I think covered wagons are alright. Especially when they sell curly fries.

I introduced the girls to poutine. Celia was unimpressed, Meghan professed to enjoy it, and I was very obviously in love. There was a Tim Horton's booth as well, but they sold out of coffee and donuts before I could get some. I was rather saddened, until I remembered that I'll be in Canada in two weeks. I'll stock up then.

Wimbledon

The majority of our class agreed that this weekend should be exclusively devoted to frolicking before we settle in to a delightful summer of thesis writing.

Hence, I spent most of yesterday trying to get into Wimbledon to watch some world class tennis. I also spent a small portion of yesterday actually at Wimbledon watching some world class tennis.

Imagine our delight when we walked out of the Tube station and found that there were free bicycle taxis shuffling eager tennis fans from the train to the grounds.

Mac and I in our taxi. I am holding a Starbucks in my hand. I am happy. Mac just bought second-hand sunglasses. His fiance told him that he looked like a dreamy character from "Top Gun." He is also happy.

When we got to the grounds we were all given a number which determined our place in line. My number was 12, 476. We were told that there was 4,000 people in line in front of us. This is a true story.

This information didn't dampen our spirits, however. We were avoiding writing our theses! Waiting in line for four hours to watch tennis seemed like the perfect excuse! We had a proper good time in the line up thanks to the strategically placed pizza and ice cream stands.

This is Ashli when, at about hour 3.5, we were getting close enough to the grounds that we actually began to see signs that said things like, "Wimbledon." She is happy! We are getting close!

At last we made it inside the grounds! There were petunias everywhere and it smelled like my home town. Roger Federer is sitting up on that balcony. There was a large crowd of ardent fans standing below calling out his name and taking pictures of his elbow, which was basically all we could see. I guess he is a big deal in the world of tennis. I wouldn't know.

Through an advantageous turn of events, we got inside one of the big courts to watch mixed doubles. As it turns out, watching tennis is actually quite enjoyable. I like how everyone watches so politely when the players are wacking the ball around, and then how everyone yells little, dignified nuggets of encouragement when there is a pause in the action. i.e. "Come along now, Jonny! You can do it, old boy!".

Here we are politely watching tennis, as though we have a clue as to what is going one. One of us had actually played tennis in real life. One of us played tennis on Wii. One of us was actually a fan and even knew some of the names of the players.

This is Florence. She is the tennis fan. I sat next to her and clapped whenever she did.

Canterbury

My class headed to Canterbury for two days after the end of exams.

We really are a lovely bunch. It's been a pleasure and a privilege to study with such brilliant people this last year. I'm so glad that we got to spend a last bit of time together before we disperse to the four corners of the earth (literally).

Hurray for friends, yummy food, slightly disorganized cricket matches, and loads of public health related jokes that we alone are likely to find funny.

On our way to a party...

She says it better than I can...

I wish I could write poetry because I love it. But, in the absence of such a skill, I am thankful for others who can express so beautifully the things I have trouble putting words to.

I write my last final tomorrow which means that I am quite close to being done grad school. Which means that change is coming, which means that I have decisions to make, which means that there is another adventure in the wind. I'm certain of it.

And I am certain that there is goodness in store that will come wearing a thousand different faces. And so I love this poem, because I can see the light spilling too, and I plan to be there soon.

Walking to Oak-Head Pond, and Thinking of the Ponds

I Will Visit in the Next Days and Weeks

What is so utterly invisible

as tomorrow?

Not love,

not the wind,

not the inside of a stone.

Not anything.

And yet, how often I am fooled-

I'm wading along

in the sunlight-

and I'm sure I can see the fields and the ponds shining

days ahead-

I can see the light spilling

like a shower of meteors

into next week's trees,

and I plan to be there soon-

and, so far, I am

just that lucky,

my legs splashing

over the edge of darkness,

my heart on fire.

I don't know where

such certainty comes from-

the brave flesh

or the theater of the mind-

but if I had to guess

I would say that only

what the soul is supposed to be

could send us forth

with such cheer

as even the leaf must wear

as it unfurls

its fragrant body, and shines

against the hard possibility of stoppage

which, day after day,

before such brisk, corpuscular belief,

shudders, and gives way.

-Mary Oliver-

Who do you see...

...curiously etched into this ancient artifact currently housed in the British Museum?

(Hint: Leads a world super power)

Reasons I have not blogged...

First, Gemma and I started slipcovering all of our living room furniture. We are still slipcovering our living room furniture. Well...actually, we're kind of on a hiatus. We both have degrees to finish!

My room became filled with a terrible odor which turned out to be mold or something growing on my damp, London window sill and I was busy lighting candles every evening to try and decrease the stench: success!

I bought a little, yellow ukulele and I play it an awful lot. Most often late at night. Thankfully my nearest house mate is also a bit of a night owl and doesn't mind my nocturnal jam sessions.

I spent the month of April in Uganda doing a research project for my graduate degree. It was a study examining how women are affected by inadequate sanitation in urban slums. April was an almost perfect month.

I've also been busy playing with my friends.

We did have a long weekend, during which I could have blogged, but I went canoeing/camping instead!

House mate Mary got engaged and former house mate Laura came back from Madagascar for a visit. Here are the ladies of 63 Manor Park Road up late making invitations!

Then two of our chickens got sick and required quite a bit of loving attention. Here is Annabel in the tub. I think she hated it.