Looking back...

Life has a strange way of pushing us forward, and at the most unexpected moment, pulling us back. Just when we think we've grown beyond the holds of the past, we stumble upon a note, a message, a memory from a time that's long gone by. And we look back at our perfect memories. 

I find myself looking back right now and wondering about so much. I don't wonder about the what ifs, because there really is no point. My life is what I have now, and what I make it (hey, that's a Hannah Montana moment for you... eek!) But the life I once had holds the key to who I used to be. And there are times when I miss that girl.

It's too complicated to explain in two or three paragraphs, within the constraints of a blog. Too personal to share with the world thanks to the window of the Internet. I'm just looking back into what was twenty years ago. I miss the pieces of me that are held by others who were such a central part of my life then. I miss the pieces of me that hold together my past and my present, and that are part of the person I've become. 

Life moves forward. The lessons are part of the road that shapes us constantly. And sometimes along that road, we leave pieces of ourselves that can never be taken back. They belong to the road, they belong to others. They no longer belong to us. 

In her own words...again

I was on the phone with our friends Bob and Janice, trying to ease Janice's worries about leaving their new baby at daycare, so I had this conversation with Katarina for Bob and Janice to hear:

"Katy, do you like your daycare?"
"Yes"
"Do you like your teachers?"
"Yes"
"Do you like to go to your daycare and see your teachers?"
"Yes"
"And what do you do at the daycare?"
"I pee my pants"

Ugh...

It's gray...

and beautiful!

I have a dear friend who used to talk about "El Encanto de lo Gris" - or literally translated, the enchantment of gray. I used to think he was crazy, but then I did love his quirkiness.

It took me years and a bout of nostalgia to look through his eyes, although at that point I was away from my native Peru. I remember sitting in a hallway at Cypress College looking through a floor-to-ceiling window at the rainy day. It was cold and wet, and very, very gray. And it hit me like it had never before. It was, indeed, beautiful.

The bricks were a different shade of red - intense and powerful, set against the backdrop of green leaves from trees whose trunks had darkened with the water. Everything, somehow, seemed to come alive. In contrast with each other, nature and buildings stood in the rain full of what seemed to me was life. Vibrating, demanding to be seen, and beautiful in their own right.

The rain cleans, and somehow it cleansed me. That moment alone stands out in my memory as one of incredible sadness and powerful self-awareness. I missed so much in that instant, and at the same time I was given so much.

Winter has never been the same since. When it rains, I get past the cold and the wet, and I remember that moment of powerful epiphany. Not just because I looked at the beauty of my surroundings, but also because it reaffirmed for me the belief that some of the most beautiful things in life are found in those unexpected moments, when we finally open our eyes and become aware of the gifts that surround us day in and day out.

The difference between 38 and 16

Other than the obvious 22??

More weight, less tone...
More gray, not as much hair...
Some wrinkles, but less acne...
My teeth are now straight...
More insight, less attitude...
More willingness to learn from others...
More awareness that I don't know it all...
More certainty that I know very little...
More urgency to do...
Shorter days, weeks, months and years...
More wonder, less taken for granted
Greater obnoxiousness about my birthday...
More knowledge of who I am - and who I don't want to be...
More appreciation for the "little" things in life...
More understanding that the "little" things are really the BIG ones...
More need to do good, and less hope that we can do it all...
Would that be less hubris??

I'm still me, just an improved version. Not like wine - wine improves with the years, until it stops improving. I'd rather be like a controversial, ground-braking work of art: misunderstood in the early years, acknowledged down the road, and appreciated later on for being bold, unique, and beautiful in its own right (for whatever qualities that make it so).

And no, there's no apologies on that statement. After all, today is my birthday!

On the inauguration

It's hard to describe the enormity of this moment - harder probably to truly appreciate it without having suffered personally from the extreme prejudice and discrimination black people have lived with for years in this country. Still, what a moment this is. The first black president of the United States has been inaugurated, and the country is watching, more than ever before.

Expectations have been high on all fronts. This morning on NPR, there was a report on the expectations of children that now the country will turn into one in which there is no distinction based on the color of your skin, and their faith in the fact that this new president will fix their schools.

There was also a mention of Rick Warren and whether he would invoke the name of Jesus - which he did, and in a way that probably didn't offend many.

And there was a mention of the much anticipated inaugural address of our new president - would it be so memorable as to withstand the test of time, like Lincoln's second inaugural address? Will it just have sentences that will continue to be quoted in the years to come? And on my part, would it live up to the expectation set not just by this moment, but by the last two years of listening to a candidate who campaigned largely on the concept of hope, and who believes that "yes, we can!"

The expectations we all have of this president (whether democrat, republican, libertarian, or whatever, we all have them now) are probably the highest placed on any president in recent history. What will time tell us after the party is over? How long will the honeymoon last? I for one hope for a more moderate Obama than we saw on the campaign trail, and for a president who will reach across the aisle.

His life will never be the same, and his popularity probably will never be as high as it is today. The honeymoon will be short-lived, but I have high hopes for his ability to navigate troubled waters and lead people forward.