My Year of Hopefulness - Your One Wild and Precious Life

Long a mainstay of college admissions processes and orientations, I recently heard about the poem The Summer Day by Mary Oliver. (I've pasted it at the bottom of this post.) My sister, Weez, tells me that it is my great hope in life to be employed as a professional student. She's right.

I am a sucker for places that make us dream big, that push us beyond our limits, that stretch our imaginations and minds in ways that we never thought possible. I am a forever student, very much at home in the classroom wherever that classroom happens to be, whether I am up front teaching or happily seated in the front row soaking up all that glorious information like a sponge. So of course the big questions are my very favorites, and Mary Oliver hits on what may be my favorite question yet: "What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" Isn't that gorgeous? Makes me want to print it out 1,000 times and plaster it all over my neighborhood.

This week I have had new options unfolding for me every day. Just when I think I am set upon a course of action, some other wonderful possibility falls into my path to consider. I think I'm being tested (which is fine by me since students love tests.) I think I'm being shown a way to focus on exactly what field in life gets me most excited, education, and then also being offered a myriad of distractions that are testing my passion for it. Mary Oliver's question is like a beacon in the haze. What if we looked at every option that's thrown our way, what if we considered every road before us with this lens. What if we made choices by asking "is this what you want to do with your one wild and precious life (knowing that our lives are so short)?"

The very thought of this takes my breathe away. Our lives are so short. We have such little time here, making every day a wild and precious thing. So here is my answer to Mary Oliver, no matter how many days I have left:

To write courageously and passionately so that it stirs the hearts and imaginations of others

To give children every where the chances that I had to improve my own lot in life through education, dedication, and very hard work

To lift others up as I rise

To generate more kindness, compassion, and generosity in the world

To take these two wild and precious hands and build things that have value and meaning, for me and for many others

To travel far and wide, to experience other cultures, to see new scenery, to meet as many citizens of the world as possible

And, yes, every day I want to be both a teacher and a student

The Summer Day

by Mary Oliver

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

The image above is not my own. It can be found here.

My Year of Hopefulness - Charlotte's Web

I'm reading Charlotte's Web with my new book buddy, Dwight. Dwight is a 3rd grader who lives in Queens. We got connected through an organization called Learning Leaders. Based in New York City, the provide supplementary educational programs to kids in public schools. Their book buddy program matches up adult volunteers with elementary school students. We read a book together, and write three letters back and forth as we work our way through the story.

As a kid, I loved to read. My house was filled with literally thousands of books, much to the detriment of any semblance of tidiness. While I didn't love being in a cluttered home, I loved being surrounded by books in every room. Now I recognize that most kids aren't as lucky as I was to learn to love reading at such a young age. The book buddy program and Dwight are one small way that I hope to turn that around for a kid.

I forgot how much I love Charlotte's Web. I forgot how scared Wilbur was and how concerned he was with being lonely and making new friends. Children's literature introduces some heavy themes, despite its light-hearted exterior. Reading this book has made me fall in love with the genre all over again, and encouraged me to continue writing for this age group.

I'll post up my letters to Dwight and his letters to me on this blog as we continue through Charlotte's Web. I'm excited to read what he has to say. I'll meet him in person in February when we all get together for a celebration lunch. Apparently, the kids always think the adults they are writing to are total rock stars - a shot in the arm we could all use!

" Dear Dwight,

I’m really happy to be reading Charlotte’s Web with you and writing letters to each other as we work through the book. This was one of my favorite books when I was in school, and I’m looking forward to re-reading it. I really enjoy reading and I write, too. I always find inspiration for my own writing by reading other books.

I grew up in a very small town about two hours north of Manhattan, along the Hudson River. We had a farm where we grew apples and every fall we would invite people to come pick apples from our property. We didn’t have as many farm animals as there are in Charlotte’s Web, though my sister, Maria, and I spent a lot of time in the woods around our house watching for deer, turkeys, and foxes. We also had a very large pond that had frogs, turtles, and fish.

Our family has always had pets so my love of animals goes back as far as I can remember. We had a lot of dogs, a few cats, an aquarium, and a rabbit, too. My work is very busy now so I don’t have time for a pet at the moment. I hope I can have a pet of my own someday soon.

One part of Charlotte’s Web that I forgotten was how much Wilbur wanted to make new friends in his new home. I have experienced that many times, too. I went to elementary school, middle school, and high school with all of my same friends. When I went to college and then to graduate school, I didn’t know anyone so I had to make all new friends. At first that experience was scary, though the more often I had to make new friends, the easier it became. Now meeting new people is one of my favorite things to do.

What’s been your favorite part of the book so far? What kind of plan do you think Charlotte will make to help save her friend, Wilbur?

I’m looking forward to your first letter!

Your Book Buddy,

Christa"

My Year of Hopefulness - Where the Wild Things Are (and Were)

"One does not discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore for a very long time." ~ Andre Gide, Nobel laureate in literature

My sister, Weez, and her family are visiting me for a week. My brother-in-law, Kyle, is a painter and given the cold weather we're having in New York City, this vacation is all about museums. For several weeks, he's been scouting cultural websites to see what exhibits are currently open. One of the exhibits that caught his interest is at the Morgan Library, and includes original sketches, watercolors, and book notes from Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak. Being avid fans of children's literature, we stopped in there today to have a look.

I have loved Where the Wild Things Are since I was little. I loved it because of its use of theatre and imagination. Max and his make-believe adventures made me believe that I could travel to distant and strange lands, too. Now as a writer, visiting this exhibit brought a whole new back story to the book. Originally the story was about wild horses, not the Wild Things we have come to know and love. Sendak abandoned the project for many years before completing it. During his first attempt he wrote that the story felt forced so he had to put it aside for now. He kept returning to it again and again to see if the story might flow more easily on another attempt. Eventually, he found an open door. My favorite margin note is "focus on Max." Despite his mastery of storytelling, he had to deal with all of the same anxieties so many other writers deal with: not knowing what comes next, starting a story, dropping it, and picking it back up again at a more suitable time, and the feeling that his focus was sometimes a bit off.

As much as I love Sendak's writing, his thoughts on his writing were even more interesting to me. The exhibit reaffirmed for me that writing is a physical workout in many respects. It's something that must be practiced consistently, even when the writing doesn't come easily. There will be periods of frustration when the words just don't flow the way we'd like them to and that's okay. Focus and commitment is something we must continually strive for, and some times we will need to write ourselves a prescription for them, a reminder of what's really important. And that's okay, too.

It's so easy to think that genius in any form belongs to the few, the gifted. Realizing that people whom I admire so much, such as Sendak, are just ordinary people like me reminds me that there is a little genius in all of us. Within everyone's imaginations, there is a brilliant story, our own Where the Wild Things Are, that is brewing. The land of the Wild Things is always right here beside us. To get it down, we just need to commit to showing up at our computers or at our notebooks with a wide open heart, a good set of ears, and an abundance of patience and determination in equal amounts.

The image above is an illustration by Sendak from Where the Wild Things Are

My Year of Hopefulness - Motivation and The Little Prince

"If you want to build a ship, don't herd people together to collect wood and don't assign them tasks and work, but rather teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea." ~ Antoine de Saint-Exupery

I love The Little Prince. It was one of my favorite books as a child. I love his wide-eyed questioning of life, and his desire to explore things that are strange and unexplained. As children often do, he was able to make connections between seemingly disparate activities and relationships, and in the process showed us how to think about our lives in a larger context than just our day-to-day collection of tasks. He asks us to consider our role in and contribution to humanity as a whole.

I was thinking about The Little Prince this morning, eating my Cheerios and looking at the water towers that dot my view from my apartment. The water towers look like brave guards, standing watch; they almost seem to breathe. They make me feel safe. The city looks so different from 17 floors up. I'm always struck by that - as I get down to the street-level, my neighborhood transforms. Up above, I have the ability to be more idealistic. The height helps me dream and consider my larger motivations in life, apart from the actual tasks I'm engaged in; it helps me think like the Little Prince.

This quote from Antoine de Saint-Exupery is helping me frame up my own desired contribution to humanity. I want to help as many people as I can to use their creativity to improve our world. That's not going to happen in a business plan; it's not going to happen through mandates and time lines and a to-do list. It can happen if I follow Antoine de Saint-Exupery's advice in every area of my life, with every interaction I have with every person I know and meet. It's that desire to play a part in building a better world that I must foster in all of my relationships. Individuals will find their own way to make a contribution. They all have their own talents and interests that can be used toward this common goal; my role is to be their biggest cheerleader, their champion, their advocate, and where applicable, their guide.

Virtual Bookshelf

This week I finally purchased a set of bookshelves from Crate & Barrel that I've been coveting for a year. They display my books so beautifully that they've become a piece of art. I took a stroll past the shelves this evening, admiring my skills of putting together 9 straight pieces of wood with an Allen wrench and a few screws. I realized that these books aren't just a collection of reference materials or thought-provoking stories. They are a diary of where I've been and interests I've developed over a number of years. They are beloved childhood memories and reminders of very long nights spent in a library, pouring over their pages, while in school. Some are like old friends that I visit again and again for guidance, for strength, for inspiration. 

This morning  read David Churbuck's post about the virtual bookshelf. He loves his Kindle, though he worries that it's destroying perhaps the greatest joy of literature - sharing it. Lending books to people, swapping them with one another, and then discussing their merits. He questions the selfishness that we embrace with our new electronic devices. 

That set me to thinking about how we might combine technology and literature in a win-win, rather than consuming one at the jeopardy of the other. This idea is particularly poignant to me because of a fiction piece I am working on that revolves around this very idea - a children's story that I began after taking a stroll through one of the increasingly rare used book stores in New York City. I love my local Barnes & Noble, though there is something magical in the mustiness of those bookshelves that contain texts far older than me. There is history living in those shelves - those books represent pieces of people's lives, the same way that my books represent mine. 

I don't have any good answers for this conundrum of technology co-existing with literature, though its a question I'll be considering in the days and years to come. I'd love to hear your thoughts and comments if you'd like to share them.     

The photo above can be found at: http://www.likecool.com/Home/Store/Cave%20Bookshelf/Cave-Bookshelf.jpg

Rise up and reach down

Last week I heard Ursula Burns, President of Xerox, speak. Like President Obama, she calls herself an unlikely candidate to the President of a company like Xerox. She was raised on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, went to school at Brooklyn Poly, and has never accomplished a single thing on the life to-do list she created as a young student. What she has done is become a shining example of achievement and the use of adversity as a tool for advancement rather than an excuse for set-backs.

Of all the topics she discussed with us this week, there is one quote that stands out in my mind. Like me, she is a fan of author Anna Quindlen. She heard Quindlen speak a few years ago and reminds herself of Quindlen's favorite quote that she uses to close every talk. When asked about her motto in life, Quindlen says, "Rise up and reach down." Strive to get ahead, and take others with you.

In these times when so many people are concerned about their jobs, their financial stability, and their future prospects for success, it can be tough to imagine rising up. At the moment, they're just trying to tread water. But rising up can mean something more than just advancing our careers. Rising up is what we did on Tuesday - regardless of the candidates we voted for, simply going out to vote is a form of rising up. Going to the leadership at our companies with innovative ideas to save on costs, delight and support customers, or diversify our offerings - that's rising up, too. Speaking out, getting involved, lending our time, funding, and support in our communities - that is rising up.

There is something to be said for being part of a rising tide that lifts all boats. If I am successful, that is a win for every demographic that I belong to: women, Generation X, people who put themselves through school, my alma maters (Penn and UVA). Ursula Burns calls it "winning because of everything I am, not in spite of it. My race, my gender, my demographics are certainly involved in how successful I am because they make me who I am."

Barack Obama's victory on Tuesday was a victory for community organizers, Democrats, blacks, those of mixed races, youth, social media users, those who value and exhibit eloquence, people who seek to educate themselves to improve their lots in life. Everything that he is, "a mutt" as he called himself yesterday in his first press conference since his win on Tuesday, made his victory possible. And with his signature humility and ability to unite people from every walk of life, he took us with him. He exemplifies Quindlen's and Burns's ideal of rising up and reaching down. We would all do well to live by this example.

The photo above can be found at: http://www.aiga.org/content.cfm/get%2Dout%2Dthe%2Dvote?pageNum=6