Nature v. Nurture

Lately I've been thinking about nature versus nurture -- and I mean really thinking.  I even made a Venn Diagram:

{i kid you not}

However, I'm not so great with the self-perception and remembering things.  So I had a super-interesting exchange with Charlie after I asked him about what traits he thought I inherited from the familia.  Via his input and my limited self-assessment, I think nature can get props for my mom's more olive/Greek features, including a big nose and bushy eyebrows.  Also, I can probably thank the gene pool for the extragangly-middle ( extended into high school) phase, which left me irreparably uncoordinated.

Nurture gave-to-me more things like my type A-ness and the development of a deep love for James Taylor (and folk music in general).  I also developed a guilty pleasure/ironic-but-NOT-really-ironic appreciation for the show, Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman.

{Sully, serving up a bit o' Nat'l Parks with a side of mountain-man sexual tension}

And speaking of Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman - remember that time when Sully single-handedly lobbied/helped establish the National Park System? ('Oh, the reeesearch that went into the show!' my mom would proclaim at the end of each episode.)

Annnd here's where things come full-circle!  While I was hiking in Yosemite National Park (Thanks for that, Byron!) this past weekend, I began to reflect on how I spend way too much time licking familial wounds.  I bemoan the current obstacles that my parents, brother and I face and feel bitter that my family unit isn't more 'normal'/'healthy'/'balanced'.

But in actuality, contrary to my recent maudlin outlook, I had a hella' good dose of nurturing growing up.

{YNP - the other one}

Case and point: my love for hiking and camping.

Of my favorite things, I really love napping and indolence.  And I hate mosquitos and blisters.

Thus, if my parents didn't cart me to at least half of the National Parks for family vacations growing up, I'm about 99.72% sure I wouldn't have developed a deep affection for hiking, camping and experiencing nature in the way my parents taught me.

So, I'm grateful- for my kick ass mom and dad, who instilled some fantastic preferences and interests within me, right alongside just enough dysfunction to keep things interesting at Thanksgiving.

It happens.

{terrible, horrible, no good, very bad mood = me today}

Day in, day out...

In the words of David Foster Wallace, adulthood can really suck.

Okay, he said it more eloquently, accounting for complexities and such.  I.e.:

There happen to be whole, large parts of adult American life that nobody talks about in commencement speeches. One such part involves boredom, routine and petty frustration. ...

Today, going along with the vein of the wretchedness of routine, I'm led to sulk over how my dear friend Kacey is getting married on a beautiful, sunny Carribean island - and thanks to a collusion of adulthood things (work obligations, limited vacation time, logistics) I can't be there.

And it megasucks.

However, to find the silver lining, I'm trying to reflect on how, in the thick of the day in, day out - the timecards, grocery trips, light rail back and forth and forth and back  --> we cross through some mystic, veiled periphery - from adolescence to adulthood.

All of a sudden, in the midst of calls with insurance companies (that our parents no longer make for us), paying rent and student loans, mowing lawns and taking out the trash -- we begin to strive for more.

We try to make ourselves better
              - through lifelong commitments to one another
                     -bringing new life into the world
                           -coming together when unfair loss arises
                              -carrying one another through sickness and suffering
banding together to honor our brokenness and our triumphs.

In spite of my nobler yearnings, I'll keep it real.  My despondence lingers.  I'm bummed I can't be with Kacey and Joe today.

But! I am immensely grateful for the privilege of calling them friends, even when it's from far away.

And I guess... I'm grateful for the doldrums - for being stuck at my desk even on days like today - if it means that I can hone maturity, develop a sense of responsibility, enter new phases, discover greater challenges and resulting fulfillment, establish deeper commitments and explore new horizons.

So, this is for the doldrums:

And since I'm on a Neruda kick, this is for my cherished friends, Kacey and Joe.

Sonnet XVII

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep. 

Pablo Neruda

Exactamundo.

It’s worth noting that you can devote your life to community service and be a total schmuck. You can spend your life on Wall Street and be a hero. Understanding heroism and schmuckdom requires fewer Excel spreadsheets, more Dostoyevsky and the Book of Job.

More where that came from here.  

the field where I love to lie

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field.  

I'll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass the world is too full to talk about.

― Rumi 

{clockwise - starting top-left: 1. whittling via squeeze bottle, 2. again, 3. purdy, 4. frivolity, 5.this-is-why-we-can't-have-nice-things}

 It's weird that the season of living in Baltimore is coming to a close.  I feel like I spent a good portion of the time scurrying - to find a job, get settled and build community.  Years two/three have been the most rewarding- as we slowly started setting roots and developing some authentic relationships.

Yet, in spite of how much I've loved our new community - I was reminded this past weekend (and over the past month or two) of the difference between new and old friends.  I love the friendship-honeymoon that comes with burgeoning relationships, and the refreshment of meeting new people that you feel as close with as those who you've known for ages.  But there's something unique about the bliss of spending hours whittling the day away with the people who know you best.

Moving away from your hometown generally leads you to build your closest friendships with other people who are so-inclined as to move away/around as well.  Although the pang of missing friends can be sharp, the joy of the reunion is far sweeter.

Hurrah for summertime weddings, reunions and adventures.

everyday mathematics

hem and haw.

There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered.

Nelson Mandela 
in 'A Long Walk to Freedom'