For those left waiting

It's unimaginable, and yet, every parent around the world, the moment they heard about the school shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School on Friday, imagined. What if? What if that were MY child?

I have watched very little news coverage. I don't want to relive it over and over. I don't want to be party to speculation of how this could or could not be prevented, the shooter's motives, or using it as some sort of political leverage.

The first and only article I read about the event described the children being evacuated from the school and brought to the local firehouse where their parents were waiting. I keep going back to that firehouse, imagining myself there, waiting for my child to come, the relief of seeing them walk through that door. Or, the agony of being one of the parents left waiting for their baby who would never come. I imagine un-opened Christmas presents, and empty chairs.

The stories of the heroic teachers that protected their students give a moment of peace, until I remember that they were someone's child too.

All I know to do is to pray for those families, to offer up my support, and to hug my children extra tight.

Tragedies like this remind us of our humanity. It reminds me that we are lucky to be alive, that everything we have is a gift, that tomorrow is not promised to anyone. It reminds me that no matter what boundaries separate us, whether it be oceans, or continents, or religion, or politics, we all love our children. We all would give our lives for theirs if we could.

For everyone lucky enough: Cherish your children, hold them extra tightly. Thank God for every day that you are together.

For the parents left waiting: May a God who shares the heart of a grieving parent and who mourns for every lost child, be with you.

and for those children: May a God who is a loving parent wrap you in his arms.

squeaky clean

I like my showers hot, like turn your skin red hot. Especially when the cool weather starts to creep in, there's nothing more comforting than a steam filled bathroom.

No one told me when I first had children, that this very simple pleasure would very quickly become a luxury.

This morning with the baby asleep, and my three year old occupied with his morning cartoons, I took a long, hot, shower, and felt all the stress, anxiety, and grime wash away. The saying is true, you really don't know what you've got till it's gone. But maybe that's okay. Maybe you need the loss and the change to make you appreciate just how lovely even the simple moments can be.

Because it's not happiness that makes you grateful, it's gratitude that makes you happy.

I think I can squeeze in a cup of tea before the baby wakes up...

Aboji

Many of you have heard the news, that the founder of my church, the Rev. Sun Myung Moon, passed away on September 3rd at 93 years old (Korea time).

Followers had been offering prayers and conditions for his health, ever since he entered the hospital almost two weeks ago. Many prayed for a miracle, but it is God's will be done, not ours.

When I first got the news, I lit a candle and said a short prayer for a safe journey. The whole day my facebook page was full of pictures and stories, statements of gratitude and love. I didn't have much time to reflect though while attending to the kids and getting ready for the start of the school week today. Later in the day I got a call from a reporter and was interviewed for the local paper. I got a little choked up at one point when I was telling her some of the stories and memories I had of seeing Father, but it still didn't really sink in. I was in an intilectual place of, "well we knew he was sick, he lived a long life, it was time, God bless".

(You can read the article here)

The next morning, before I even got out of bed, I immediately had this feeling like the world had completely turned upside down.

It may seem strange for some people, to grieve over this man. But you see, he is the reason that my parents are married. Without that I would not exist. My husband would not exist, and neither would our beautiful children. Thousands of people can say the same thing. Even if that was the only thing he had accomplished (spoiler alert: it's not!), it would be a tremendous legacy.

I have never known a time when he wasn't here. Suddenly, on that morning, the world felt different because of his absence.

I had been working on a different post this weekend and decided to do some writing. I sat down and played a TED talk video that I was basing it on. It is an inspiring video about a man who documented the democratic elections in Ghana. As I watched and listened to this man's story again, I became overwhelmed with emotion. It wasn't just the story (I had watched the video several times already), but it was this intense feeling of empathy and longing; of love for another human being, and the common human experience. I felt his pain, his triumph, his heart, I understood him, not just intellectually, but as if he WERE me.

When I was a little girl, I used to have experiences where I would just start crying for no reason. Or I would see something that made me sad, like a lost pet or a friend's parents getting divorced, and I would dissolve into sobs for an hour, a kind of grief that I couldn't explain. Once when I woke up crying in the middle of the night, my Mother told me, "you are feeling the heart of God, he is sharing his heart with you."

Not since I was a little girl have I experienced it, until now. That's what I felt when I watched the video. I can't help but think that the recent events, perhaps Father Moon's spirit, has opened up that child like part of me, that deep connection to the Divine that I learned to suppress as an adolescent and adult.

For the first time I see it as a gift, that I can love people deeply and see them from God's viewpoint, even though it is also painful.

The past week has been a mix of emotions. While many people have been sharing wonderful and inspiring stories, it is hard to avoid the negative comments that we all expected. I was starting to get really sad, reading the comments that people were posting at the ends of articles about the passing, and even Facebook posts from people who I have called friends, openly mocking a dying man. I felt deep pain, and struggled to forgive them for the words that I found hurtful and disrespectful.

Rev. Moon's daughter, In Jin Moon, gave a speech this past week to members while updating people on her father's health. In it she talked about her own struggles as a child to accept her father and she recounted an incident where she asked her mother, "How do we know? How do we know if he is a Messiah?" and Mother responded, "It is not your belief that makes him who he is, it is God that anoints. It is God that chooses"

In the end, it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, it only matters what God thinks. My heart for people, a deep love for others, the ability to understand "real" love and not just some Hollywood version, the wonderful family I had growing up, a supportive faith community, my amazing husband, my precious children, are all gifts that Father Moon has given me.

To those that still hold some animosity towards Rev. Moon, let this be a release for you, because as the Buddha says, "Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one getting burned."

It is time to put on our thick skins, and embrace those that hurt us, the way Father did to the man who once imprisoned him. To love our enemies as Jesus taught, and maybe to realize that there really are no enemies, only our brothers and sisters, only ourselves, all part of the same human family, the same Heavenly Parent.

I love you all, may God be with you and your family.

you have to laugh or you'll cry: UPDATE!

Miracle of miracles! My camera still works! What a lovely surprise :)

It just goes to show what a positive attitude can do! Not that a positive attitude made my camera work again (you never know!), but I could have been stressing about my camera this whole time, and mourning over the loss. Instead, because I chose to let it go, I spent the past couple of days happy and having fun with the kids, not missing it at all. Finding out that it wasn't really broken was just a bonus!

I'll be away for a few days so I may not post much the rest of the week.

Have a blessed week full of miracles!

Independence Day

Today is the Fourth of July. It's my favorite holiday. Partly because it's the only holiday to fall right in the middle of my favorite season: Summer...and only 11 days away from my birthday too! I remember taking a blanket out to the park with my family and watching the fireworks. There are no pressures like Christmas to get and wrap gifts, no cooking like at Thanksgiving...even Halloween can be a bit stressful (especially if you have little kids). Nope, all you have to do on the 4th is go out and bask in the glow of the fireworks and the general good will and euphoria of those around you.

Even the most cynical of us can't help but be moved when "The Star Spangled Banner" is played over the explosion of lights and colors.

It's an election year, so the months ahead especially, will be a little nasty and divisive (at least if the current state of things is any predictor), but today we are all the same, Americans. All little kids staring in wonder at the beautiful lights, waving a flag and singing "God Bless America".

It's a good time to take a moment and be grateful. Grateful to be born or to live in a land of freedom. We have our own problems, and not everyone agrees on the way this country should be run, but our freedom to debate and to be a part of the process is what makes it so wonderful. We are fortunate that even the poorest among us, are better off than those in many other countries. We can be proud that our nation believes in giving back to the rest of the world whether it be through aid or service. We can feel honored and humbled by the fact that the rest of the world still largely looks to us for leadership.

The world is made up of countries. Countries of states, states of cities, cities of communities, communities of families, families of individuals.

Let me be the best I can be as an individual, to create the best family, to create the best community, state, country, and world.

Happy Independence Day!

Safe and Sound

The boys after a long day

I know you may have been expecting the follow-up post to my previous one, and that's what I was expecting to write, but life, as it does, threw me a curve ball. So I'm just going to go with it.

Yesterday we were in a car accident. We were hit on the side by a driver who ran a stop sign through the intersection. The kids were in the car, as well as my mom who was visiting from Pennsylvania. It was scary, but no one was hurt. Everyone was wearing seat belts and the kids were strapped into the car seats. The other driver was apologetic, (I can't imagine what he must have felt like hitting a whole family full of crying kids!) I've been lucky to have not been involved in many accidents in my life, and so if it had to happen, I couldn't have asked for better luck.

Thank goodness we were driving a big minivan instead of our old little ford focus that we traded in only a few months ago. Thank goodness that we bought top of the line car seats for the kids, and the airbags and safety features of our car did what they were supposed to do.

It's a big headache, it's stressful, I have a sore neck and bruise on my collarbone. I've been on the phone with insurance, rental car, and tow service for more time than I would like, and the paper work is never ending. Still, my strongest feeling is of gratitude. I'm thankful that we came out of it relatively unscathed. I was grateful that my mom was there, not that she was involved in the accident, but for her help and moral support. Miles got to ride in an ambulance, and the kids played with a tennis ball in the lobby of the police station while we waited for our ride (thanks Baba!)

This morning I went to pick up our rental, luckily it's close by so I just walked there while my husband watched the kids (thanks for helping and going in late to work!) It's unusually cool for June, but I've kind of been digging the rainy weather. It feels refreshing, and it reminds me of summer camp and the countryside that I grew up in. The smell of wet earth and grass somehow always brings me back to that relaxing space. It was nice to get out and walk. I don't know when the last time was that I got to take a walk by myself with just my thoughts. It's a nice way to start the day, even if under not the greatest of circumstances. While walking, I remembered something that I learned while living in Rome during college: Umbrella-sidewalk etiquette. The streets are so narrow that when it rains and everyone is carrying umbrellas, the person who is taller has to lift their umbrella so that the other person can pass underneath. It's an unspoken, quirky little dance, but it made me smile to think of it.

Life goes on, things happen, and we get through. It's not what happens, but how we deal with it that matters. We can either complain about the rain, or dance in it.

In Memory of Japan

AP Photo/The Oregonian, Thomas Boyd


A couple of days ago, the first peice of debris from the Japanese Tsunami washed up on shore in Oregon. A 70-foot concrete dock journeyed roughly 5,000 miles across the pacific, with native Japanese starfish and other various forms of life, clinging to the wreckage. Just the journey itself must have been harrowing, not even taking into account the reason for it's departure.

Two things struck me when watching the footage of kids taking pictures and scientists scrapping off and bagging organisms.

First: The juxtaposition of wonder, excitement, curiosity, and the knowledge of the tragedy that brought it here. What a dynamic symbol of our interconnected world too, that something that happens thousands of miles away affects all of us. It's like being witness to a modern day Pompeii. A whole town, without any warning, completely decimated. Now, only a year later, the little clues and pieces become a part of history. A relic of another world.

Second: It was a reminder that we are never guaranteed tomorrow. That in the blink of an eye, everything you have can be gone. There is nothing like a natural disaster to remind us of our own mortality, and thus, our shared humanity. No science, no magic pill, can ever guarantee us more time. I expect that most of us, at least in the first world, have the idea that we will live well into our seventies at least, with grandchildren running around our feet. And isn't that a lovely picture. But tomorrow there could be a tornado, or a car accident, or even a heart attack. That's not to say that we should live in fear, as if death is lurking around every corner. But let it be a reminder to appreciate the time that we have, to make the most of it, to chose to be happy, to chose to focus on the things that matter.

And never forget to appreciate the people you love, because they are not guaranteed tomorrow either.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. For the chance to be alive, however long it may be. We are not promised quantity, but we can do something about the quality.

There's no place like home

A friend confided in me recently that she sometimes looks at real estate listings and just dreams about someday owning that "dream house". I told her that I often do the same thing. I imagine it's something that a lot of us do. Whether it's a house, a car, or a new job, we imagine the possibility; what it would be like if we had that new thing. It's part of our culture, the "American Dream", and to some extent probably an innate part of human beings. We always tend to look towards the future and think that the grass is greener. It's good to dream, and it's good to have goals. But we must be careful not to think that those things will make us happy. It's the mistaken belief that happiness itself is a destination, that someday, if we have all of the right things, we will arrive there.

After perusing the apartment listings on craigslist, or the local real estate pages, suddenly, my cozy little apartment feels claustrophobic, messy, and just lacking. If only I had that sprawling backyard with a swing set, or the kitchen with granite counter tops, then I could be satisfied. But that's the trick, if we are always looking at what we don't have, then we will never be satisfied, because we will always need something more. And that magic place we are trying to arrive at called "happiness", just gets farther and farther away.

I recently joined Pinterest, the site where you can share and pin pictures of things you like, and I imediately became overwhelmed with this sort of feeling. It is so easy to become addicted to the pursuit of material things, and to gather up collections of things that we think will make us happy; put them in a folder called, "what if..", "someday", or "when I win the lottery". We can get so caught up in the idea of tomorrow that we forget to be grateful for today, the place where our dreams and passions are actually created.

Our minds are conditioned to compare and judge, even to our own detriment. So if we must compare ourselves to others, why not think about those less fortunate, and be grateful that we have a bed to sleep in, a roof over our heads, and most importantly, a family to share it with...however cramped we may be sleeping all in one room.

There are days that I feel helpless, like the idea of owning a home is impossible given our financial situation and the state of the economy. But it's when I remember to be grateful for what I already have, that I have hope for my dreams, while reminding myself at the same time that I don't need those things to be happy. I can create happiness right here, right now, through gratitude.

Like Dorthy in "The Wizard of OZ", I had the power all along. Just click your heals together. "There's no place like home."

All you need

"All children are artists. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up."- Pablo Picasso


One of the worst fears for a writer, for any creative person I think, is the fear that you will run out of things to say. Especially after accomplishing something big, like you write that first book. You are barely done celebrating your acheivement before there is the daunting task of a sequel. I used to feel this when I would write music, after finishing a song that I felt proud of. What if this is my best one? What if after this I won't have any more good ideas. As if creativity was a well that could somehow dry up.

Living with this scarcity mindset is not only anxiety producing, but completley self sabotoging.

Creativity is not a limited resource. In fact, if you foster it, it will multiply ten times over. You are not the same person from year to year, day to day, or moment to moment. Everything changes, and that's a good thing, because that's where the spark of inspiration lies. There will always be something new to say, because you will be a new person saying it.

A good artist is an observer. She is someone who sees a metaphor for life when she comes across a bird building a nest. He watches people and wonders what they are thinking, puts himself in their shoes, and in doing so recognizes their common humanity.

You may not be an artist by trade, but everyone has an inner artist. It's the child who sees beauty and magic in everything. Creativity, inspiration, beauty, is always there all around you. All you have to do is learn how to tap into it. Like Luke Skywalker channeling "The Force."

A writer friend once told me while discussing a difficult experience, "well, at least I can use this for my writing!"

Be grateful for what life brings. Pay attention. Find the small pleasures. Release your inner artist.

As I write this, this song keeps going through my head:

"There's nothing you can know that isn't known.
Nothing you can see that isn't shown.
Nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be.
It's easy..."

you fill in the blank :)

Let's hear it for the boys!

We took a spontaneous trip to the beach yesterday. Sandy Hook is only about an hour drive from our place and since the season hasn't officially started yet it's free and almost completely empty. It was a belated Mother's Day present since my husband had to work over the weekend.

While basking in the sun on my blanket in the sand, I thought about what I might write about today. Perhaps a metaphore about finding treasures that have washed up on shore (we found a broken stop watch, a golf ball, baseball, and a plastic lion toy). Or something about how the waves smooth out all the rough edges to make beautiful polished stones.

But as I lay there watching my son run up and down the sand dunes and my husband walk with the baby along the shore, I felt that I just wanted to soak it all up and be grateful.

Having two little boys is a lot of work, and growing up in a family with just two girls, I feel I have a little bit of a learning curve when it comes to this whole boy thing. My husband and three year old spent the first half hour collecting drift wood to build into a "beach house" to block the wind. This is something I would have never thought of myself, since the first thing I usually do at the beach is walk along the shore line and look for sea shells, or the ever practical mom, make sure everyone has their sunscreen and hats. It just seemed so wonderfully "boy", and I felt like Wendy in Peter Pan, when the lost boys built her a house.

Whenever I am out with my boys there is always someone who comments, "so are you hoping for a girl next?"

This question always rubs me the wrong way a little. I know people mean well, but my mama bear reflexes immediately rise up. What's wrong with boys? Why does everyone think I MUST want a girl?

Girls do get all the cute clothes, and I have a great relationship with my own mother. I'm sure if God ever blessed us with a daughter It would be absolutely wonderful, and I welcome the adventure.

For now though, it's kind of nice to be the only Queen in the castle.

A big thanks to my husband who orchestrated this trip and who is responsible for all of the beautiful pictures! Love you!

Ladies, if you want awesome home movies and pictures, marry an NYU CADA graduate!

That last one was me behind the lens, not bad eh? I had a good teacher...