in the name of eminate updates

in honor of love and marriage and wanting to stay connected with our loves,

as we turn over a new leaf in 2019, 

guess who had an identity crisis about wordpress and came back to blogger?

this girl.

but still with a new and updated blog.

click on over and visit, won't you?

emilyjchristofferson.blogspot.com

emilyjanette has served me so well.

it's time to come back home again.

(cue: from now on from the greatest showman.)

happy new year!

notes from the underground--grad school edition, volume 15.

it's been six months since graduation.
five months since finishing my final externship.

i suppose it's time i finished up these gradnotes, eh?

i think for a long while there will be residual grad-school-related comments to be made.

i have commentary on side notes learned from classes.
i have commentary on how graduate school affected me.
i have commentary on the endings and beginnings and people inside of them.

but overall.
i've run out of steam.

this past summer i spent an inordinate amount of time unable to really process much.
i spent a lot of time moving around and traveling, but also a lot of time just being still.
and it was very good for me, though also hard in some ways.

it's been over two months now since i started my
real-life-grown-up-big-kid-salaried job.
and i've got to say--
it's a pretty good life.

it's late on a tuesday night right now.
husband is asleep in the other room, but i couldn't sleep.
that's how it happens sometimes, you know?
in the most unexpected and unlikely moments--
that's when my words start to come back to me.

i was at work until almost six,
though my contract is only 8-4.
it's not very often that i actually leave at 4,
but i honestly don't mind too much.
i like my job overall. i like the people i work with. i like the students. i like the community.
i don't mind too much.

we live a quiet life right now, and i must admit it's a relief from the chaos
of dating and engaged and newlyweds
on top of
grad school and externships and finding a job.

at last we get to settle into ourselves--
he and i as we, and he and i in our respective careers and ventures.
together and separate and together again.
that might not even make sense.
but in short it's this:
life is in a stage of relief.

i'm glad i went to graduate school.
i am.
i'm grateful for the professors, the clients, the supervisors.
i'm grateful for the classes, the tests, and the study.
i'm grateful because i did it.
i'm grateful because it matters.
and i'm grateful for what it allows me to do daily.
i'm grateful for the world it opens up to me.

and now, in the phase we're in right now.
i'm grateful most of all because,
as noah and the whale says:

day by day, old joy comes back to me.

you'll sing, day by day, old joy comes back to me.
forget the things that get away, don't dream of yesterday.

song of the day: old joy, noah and the whale.

whatever else anything is.
we're in a good place right now.

and.
this is as good of place as any to realize.

i think this blog has served its purpose.
i think it has reached its culmination.
so many years of musing and thinking and feeling and writing.

i started it around the time i graduated from high school--
laurs and i both did, engrossed in quite the love of blogs.
it's evolved immeasurably over the years,
as has my writing,
as have i.

and with that i say: 

it's time.

a new era of life, 

a new era of writing, 

a new era of memories.

and if you're interested in following along:

where i plan to record our story from courtship to wedding--

especially now that grandpa ray has passed away--

all the way through to daily life. 

now that i have more flexibility with my time, 

i so hope to return to writing again--in some form or fashion, 

even if just as a recording of our story to start. 

because.

i've been missing that deepheartsoul of mine.

the one that clings deeply to russian literature and nearly weeps over some pieces. 

the one that has words bubble up when in the car, doing dishes, or anywhere in between.

pieces of life that need to be expressed, 

even if they're parts that most people don't often speak of.

i've always loved digging deep inside to the raw and the real.

words that have never quite had a place to go for the past little while. 

i miss that part of me--

and hope to bring her home again.

along with the funny and light and twinkly parts of life.

come with me?

it's time to let go of

emily janette nevers

(with grand respect and reverence)

and say hello to

( emily janette christofferson )

does it help convince you if i share a darling photo

of the love that lets us share a (relatively-new-to-me) last name?

ps. yes. i'm also saying goodbye to blogger. 

it's been real, but kind of like high school--

after awhile, you've really just got to let go.

pps. i know there's not much there. yet. #powerofyetandgrowthmindsetandstuff

the flour, the rain, and the mouse.

i made brownies the other night.

it was just after 9 pm by that point, the evening winding down.
but then suddenly--i made brownies.

it's what i do when my life starts to get chaotic and feels like it's spinning too fast.
it's what i do when my stress levels start to rise, be it conscious or not.

because something about stirring brownies together brings a little bit of control back to me.

summer 2013 i made a lot of brownies.
i was in ukraine. (ha. member that? me neither.)
in abedinyoni, in an area that hadn't had missionaries for a long while.
and also i had two companions.
both of whom were new and six weeks apart.

not relevant right now, really.
just.
i made brownies.

because i love to watch the transition of the batter--
the way things change and thicken as you add the dry ingredients.
the way things swirl and spin,
all before they combine
with the addition of flour.

i went to the grocery store the other day.
husband is out of town,
(which on some trips is sometimes harder for me than i care to honestly admit.
when my shame and pride get talking.)
i went to the grocery store, and wandered for longer than i should have needed to.
is it possible to forget how to grocery shop?
i forgot where to even find certain things.

does growing up mean you learn how to grocery shop more effectively?
did i miss that class in adulting?
or does it mean you pay a little more for things you know are worth it--
without feeling bad for the cost being more?
even with consciously knowing it's worth it,
still being bothered because of habit to scour for the cheapest price possible?

i like my job.
i do.
i may not be good at a lot of aspects of adulthood,
our new space may be a chaotic mess with boxes and piles everywhere still.
but i like my job.
i like the community itself while still having the autonomy of my position.
i like the variety of older 5th graders mixed with preschoolers.

i'm good at it--most parts at least, considering how new i am.
i'm good at being organized and making sure things get done.
i'm good at writing and usually fairly good with people.
i'm good with kids and can usually charm even the most skeptical of littles.

the weather is turning.
the first cold days always throw me around like a leaf in the wind.
but tonight the rain keeps coming down.
and there's something soothing and grounding in that.

there's nothing quite like a cold, rainy night as the season first starts to turn,
to engulf you with the most perplexing warmth and stability.

then again, i think i just saw a mouse scurry out of the corner of my eye.
(i'm not quite ready for this adulting.)

she pours a daydream in a cup, 

a spoon of sugar sweetens up.

and she fights for her life as she puts on her coat,

and she fights for her life on the train.

she looks at the rain as it pours.

she fights for her life as she goes in a store

with a thought she has caught by a thread,

she pays for the bread

and she goes.

nobody knows.

sun been down for days,

a winter melody she plays.

song of the day: 

her morning elegance, oren lavie.

everyone certainly would believe in nothing but love.

“i love you much (most beautiful darling)

more than anyone on the earth and i

like you better than everything in the sky

—sunlight and singing welcome your coming

although winter may be everywhere

with such a silence and such a darkness

noone can quite begin to guess

(except my life) the true time of year—

and if what calls itself a world should have

the luck to hear such singing (or glimpse such

sunlight as will leap higher than high

through gayer than gayest someone’s heart at your each

nearness) everyone certainly would (my

most beautiful darling) believe in nothing but love”

-- e.e. cummings

the aphonic master krem.

just a little stream of things:

i lost my voice this week.
i don't mean metaphorically.
and i don't mean in the way people say when they usually are sick and lose their voice.
i mean--
i quite literally could not even make sounds.
at first i could occasionally squeak out words.
by that evening, i couldn't even do that.
and for two and a half full days,
i had no voice whatsoever.
only in pieces did it come back--
not in voice, but in sound.
only if i tried incredibly hard.
it stayed like that for another two days.
before today.
today it sounds like what people usually mean when they say,
i lost my voice.

aphonic is used to describe a complete absence of sound.
given that last year i had an entire course on voice disorders,
i was incredibly paranoid when i was met with experiencing complete and total aphonia.

suffice it to say,
my voice is finally coming back.
just a bad case of laryngitis.

(and for your viewing pleasure,
the video i sent husband while he was at work on friday afternoon.
because any kind of scratchy was huge progress from complete lack of sound.
obvsi.)

that said,
it did provide me with immense compassion and empathy
for those who must always use AAC to communicate.
of how frustrating it is when it takes added time.
how frustrating to be behind the conversation,
because it takes time to write anything out.
(i spent multiple days using typing on my phone
and having my phone speak it as my sole means of verbal expression.
side note: the verbal descriptions of emojis are hilarious.)
because.
all words matter.
and everyone deserves to have a voice--
regardless of what form that voice takes.

- - - - -

i made the most delicious chocolate chip cookies this week.
usually i'm not very good at the actual making of cookies part.
but they were so good!
10/10 would recommend.
also,
while doing so i started watching a couple episodes of
the great british baking show.
ummm.
it's fine, it's the most delightful thing in the world.
i know i'm late to this party.
but it's wonderful.

- - - - -

also, i watched the netflix version of anne of green gables that just came out.
anne with an e.
i mean.
i loved it, in the end.
but it's so different from the other movies.
a bit more grim, and i think it takes the bleakness a bit too far sometimes.
also, anne is capital a annoying at the beginning.
not just precocious, but straight-up annoying.
she mellows a bit, though.
and. overall.
i liked it.
also.
anne getting her period for the first time is the
most hilarious and most accurate representation of
how to feel about periods that i've ever seen.

- - - - -

speaking of anne.
the anne to my diana is coming over this afternoon.
sometimes when megs is coming to utah county she stops and visits me on sunday afternoons.
it's the best.
do love my megs.
also, she informed me there's a new broadway musical recently made based on war and peace.
we especially love this song from pierre.
and also. josh groban. heart eyes.

- - - - -

my externship ends this coming week.
funny because last week i was only there for 1.5 of 4 days.
#itsgoinggreatthanks
also the headstart preschoolers had their last day on the 18th!
shame i won't get to see them again.
i should write more gradschool notes to catch up sometime.
there is even so very much to say.

- - - - -

speaking of things to write.
i've started writing kreminate's love story.
it's mostly for me more than anyone else.
and will probably have details that no one else cares much about.
but alas.
even beginning to write.

- - - - -

my laptop is falling apart.
but.
it made it through all of college and a jaunt to romania!
for an early 2009 computer, it's definitely going the way of the wind.
but.
hanging in there.
and has served its good purposes.
yay for making it through grad school!

- - - - -

we still have twinkle lights up in our living room and it still delights me to none end.

- - - - -

started writing thank you cards for the wedding!
who's proud?
i sure am.

- - - - -

i'm having a phase with putting my hair in braids or little bun pigtails.
like. two braids coming down,
or two little buns at the nape of my neck.
i look like i'm twelve,
especially with already having a young face.
but there's just something darling and fun about it.
so i keep doing it.
husband ain't complaining.
(because i'm adorable, obvsi.)

- - - - -

i'm also having a jonsi phase.
in terms of music, you know?
i don't listen to music much anymore.
but.
i'm having a jonsi phase.
also!
regina.
a serious regina phase, too.
and.
just a fun maytime playlist i've been compiling.
also, husband doesn't like mumford & sons.
clearly i'm still working on forgiving him for this.
hahaaaa. kidding. mostly.

- - - - -

there's a rose bush in our front yard, right by where we park in the driveway.
it's a hilarious and lovely collection.
some magenta roses, some pink, an oddball yellow one.
i love it.
we like our basement apartment that isn't completely underground.

- - - - -

happy sabbath.
here's to hoping i'm done being sick now for awhile,
seeing as i've been sick most of the past two months.
(loudly crying face. distraught face.)
i blame the children. and also decompressing from so much stress and flurry.

- - - - -

oh.
p.s. i graduated!
you may now refer to me always as master em.
or just em.
that's cool, too, i guess.

hallelujah--you're home.

songs of the day: the light, regina spektor / supermarket flowers, ed sheeran / shake it out, florence + the machine / the wind, cat stevens / the first days of spring, noah and the whale.
[see also, these playlists: one and two.]

i went for a jog in my new neighborhood for the first time tonight. i've meant to do so on multiple occasions, but amidst the chaos of externship, the wedding, being newly married, new externship, and getting sick (among other things), it hadn't happened yet. not on my own, anyway. [not that i don't love my hubbers, obvsi. just that i also need/love my occasional alone time.] i made a little round towards a park near where we live--the park we walked to once on a lovely autumn sunday afternoon while engaged, the park we played tennis at with trey and johnnie a few weeks ago, the park we played tennis at together a couple mondays ago, the park just a part of a mile away. the park with pieces of this new home and life of mine.

i used to go swinging fairly frequently while i was still living in provo after my mission. i'd go with jillian. i'd go with megs. i'd go with others. i'd go alone. more often than not, when i went for a jog, somehow i always ended up stumbling into swings as my destination before turning around again. i love swings. i love the way they center my soul. i love feeling the wind course through me. i love soaring towards the sky.

there's been a fair amount of upheaval in the past few years. in ukraine alone, i hardly ever stayed places more than a couple of months. semesters to semesters. graduating from college. moving on to graduate school. amidst all of this living in a few different places. a time of transition, i know--these tumultuous twenties. and with that comes the constant restlessness and unsettled nature of seeking with all your might to find a home for your heart--wondering at times if it would ever be possible to find someone. does anybody know how to hold my heart? sara b was always such an important voice for those years.

on this night, though, as i swung through the wind in the quiet of a monday evening, i felt my soul starting to catch up with my body. when discussing chekhov and grief, i had a russian professor a couple of years ago who referenced the suggestion that it takes around 6 weeks for your soul to catch up with your body. it's been just over 6 weeks since the day i became a wife and my husband became mine forever. and as i rounded the corner with some ed sheeran in my ears, my soul catching up turned to a conscious realization: i'm home. my heart and my soul have a home in this place with this person. and on this, the first chance i've really had to be on my own and let my life seep into me, i was overwhelmed with the purest, most satisfying contentment that exists--the contentment that has reigned much since dating nate, but especially since getting engaged. because my heart can finally rest for a time as school winds down (and therefore life calms down), enough to let me look around to see and smell the blossoms of this life of love.


i think i'll go shnuggle my husband now.
because as i listen to the wind on my soul,
this is what i hear:
hallelujah--
i'm home.

notes from the underground--grad school edition, volume 14.

the past few months have been a whirlwind, if ever there was one.

at long last, though, i think the winds are calming.

march 10th:

i finished a 10-week medical externship that began at the beginning of the year.

(and kicked my trash.)

it was an immense opportunity for learning and growth.

(and sometimes it was just excruciating 

given my lack of experience, lack of exposure, and what felt like overall incompetence.) 

that said,

in my last two weeks i started to hit my stride--relatively speaking.

and it was sincerely such a good opportunity.

my eyes were opened to a whole new world of understanding.

i was working with adults with neurocognitive communication disorders--

strokes, traumatic brain injuries, cancer, etc.

i learned a lot about cognition.

(and a looooot about cognitive strategies.)

it was remarkable to watch progress,

and to see people experience really significant changes in their lives.

it was also heartbreaking to witness the frustration of the given difficulty.

i led a book club for patients/former patients while i was there, 

and though i probably won't be working in this setting or with this population in the future,

i'm grateful that it happened.

and to have had the opportunity to work with so very many remarkable people.

furthermore, it was enlightening 

to be so thoroughly exposed to individuals who had experienced a traumatic brain injury--

an invisible struggle that infiltrates so much of everyday life. 

i wish a larger proportion of the general population was educated regarding brain injuries,

that more people were more compassionate towards those who have experienced a brain injury.

i learned so much about compassion.

compassion for others.

compassion for oneself.

giving people the benefit of the doubt.

seeking to dig inside their day-to-day functioning.

the learning curve was steep, but still i climbed that slope.

and.

i was relieved to just make it through.

cognitive therapy is so important and so beneficial.

but doing cognitive therapy is not my career jamboree.

there's probably so much more i could say about this medical externship of mine.

but for now i'm just not quite sure how.

and so we'll leave it be with this:

i'm glad it happened and for all that i learned (more here and here),

though i'm glad that i'm now in a place more suited to my own aptitudes.

march 13th:

i started my school externship at an elementary school.

it's kindergarten through 5th grade, though they also house a headstart preschool.

so i work with prek-5th graders.

it's the best thing.

i adore it all.

for awhile i was wondering if i needed to find a new profession,

come to find out i just hadn't quite found my place yet.

until now.

i love this setting.

i love these kids.

i love this role.

i love this work.

the learning curve wasn't so steep this time.

it's only been three weeks, 

but it feels ever so much longer--in the best way.

i took over most of the caseload by the third day.

the rest starting on week two.

and i don't even mind.

i'll write more someday about all this,

but suffice it to say:

i love every second.

even the worst days are not really that bad.

i almost wept on the first day with how good it was.

sometimes i almost feel bad with how good life is right now.

but instead of feeling bad,

i plan to enjoy the ride and soak it all in.

it's a good life, you know?

it's a really good life.

as of a week and a half ago my last class is over.

i took the last final i'll ever take,

and am done with all formal college courses.

(CEUs are a different matter--and not nearly so intense.)

it was rough to have the class mostly coinciding with the first 10 weeks--

with the weeks that kicked my trash 

and drained every ounce of energy from me 

because of their intensity.

but hey. c'est la vie, right?

is what it is. and now it's over.

go team go. and i think i'm mostly still kind of standing.

after all these years--

classes and papers and tests and presentations and projects, oh my--

i really am almost done.

feel free to start prepping yourself 

mentally and emotionally for calling me 

master

master em

master krem

master emily

master mrs.christofferson.

oh, yeah.

and by the way.

in the middle of that intensely grueling 10-week medical externship?

i up and got married, 

thereby joining the christofferson clan.

(haaha. and by up and got married, i mean after over 14 months together we finally wed.)

more on that later--because i really do wish to start writing again.

(spoiler alert: it's the best thing, this marriage thing.)

happy (almost) start of april.

just look what the wind blew in.

in lieu of everything i wish i had time/energy to write about:

some words from e.e. cummings about the very best thing in my life right now will have to do.

(and because hearteyes, right?)

silently if, out of not knowable

night’s utmost nothing, wanders a little guess

(only which is this world) more of my life does

not leap than with the mystery your smile

sings or if (spiraling as luminous

they climb oblivion)voices who are dreams,

less into heaven certainly earth swims

than each my deeper death becomes your kiss

losing through you what seemed myself;i find

selves unimaginably mine;beyond

sorrow’s own joys and hoping’s very fears

yours is the light by which my spirit’s born:

yours is the darkness of my soul’s return

–you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars

--e.e cummings

notes from the underground--grad school edition, volume 13.

who knew that the ambition of writing gradnotes
at least once a month while in grad school to chronicle the experience,
was actually too lofty of a goal?
oops.
but here we are.
because that's where we are in america today.

- - - - -

everyone hits the point in grad school.
the point of points that is just part of the experience.

the i'm almost broken and i legitimately don't know if i belong in this career or if i should have signed up for any of this in the first place or why i wrote essays and went through interviews to tell people why i belong here but what am i even doing with my life right now.

^^ THAT point. always in run-on sentence form.
(don't you agree, janessa?)

some people hit it in the dead middle.
others hit it towards the end-but-not-quite-end.
some people at the very beginning.
others at the not-quite-beginning-but-not-yet-middle.

that was me.
last january and early february, i had a really hard time.
reeeheheheheallly hard time.
in which i considered dropping out.
it wasn't just a joking statement that we all make sometimes.
it was a literal, consistent thought.

i hated clinic when i started.
i mean, maybe not hated it.
i liked the clients overall.
but they were trickier cases.
i had no idea what i was doing.
planning and making lesson plans killed me.
it took me forever, i hated feeling like i was a teacher,
because i purposefully chose to not go into education.
some people like making up activities and plans like that.
it made me want to vomit and ugly cry all at the same time.
and.
clinic is the real life.
clinic is what this career is.
and.
if i hated it, what did that mean about this very career choice?

january was rough on a lot of levels.
(have i ever mentioned that i hate january?
oh, right.
just thought i'd throw that out there.
in case you didn't catch it the first five-hundred times.)

in all the winter darkness of struggling with surviving, though.
jillian made me a playlist.
emmylou in january.
with just a little snark and dark, and a whole lot more empowerment and feel-good jams.

in time, it got better.
i'm glad i had some of my most complex clients at the start,
because everything else has felt like a breeze.
it really did empower me.
it really did show me what i'm capable of.
and it really did help me learn the process.
(and find ways for me to not hate it.)

but for january hearts, jillian made some jams.

- - - - -

i've been thinking about my jam lately.
you know, that moment of being in the zone,
able to shut down any outside anythings and focus like a beast?
the jam.

i used to be really good at getting in the jam.
especially in my last semester of undergrad.
(i mean, i was dying and numbing myself which is emotionally unhealthy.
but like. it was really effective for gettingshiiiishtuffdonelikeaboss.)
actually, the whole rest of my undergrad after my mission
i was pretty dang good at finding the jam.
for school, for grad school apps, for the gre.
i could get all intense like that for the things i really was motivated towards.

but.

i've lost my jam.
sometimes i worry lately that i'm not ambitious enough anymore.
that i've lost the ability to get intense and in the zone.
#burnout

but here. now.
in this, the final finals week of my life.
(don't even try to talk to me about phd's.
also the end of the semester is bad timing for that in general.
krem has no intentions of ever doing research or phd or being a formally enrolled student ever again.)
i have no jamming in me anymore.
people keep telling me to give myself a break.
because i'm getting married and stuff. (in 10 weeks!)

but i don't feel like i'm allowed to use that excuse.

i mean, obviously i'm distracted.
obviously i prefer spending time with my love to spending time with school.
but shouldn't i be a better grown up and able to shut everything down and focus once in awhile?
because it's actually really hard for me. #confessions
i feel like i shouldn't be given that excuse.
i don't do much wedding related on a daily basis.
occasionally kind of, but mostly i've been shoving it off to christmas break.
and granted, there's just a lot going on right now.
but. shouldn't i still focus more?
sometimes i feel guilty that i'm not very good at getting into the jam.
that i don't even try sometimes because i'm just so burned out.

just some real talk streams of SFDs* for your saturday.

but today.
today i've been listening to emmylou in january.
and it's my jam.
it's giving me my jam back.

shake it out by florence + the machine is my spirit animal.
spirit song? can that be a thing?

and every demon wants his pound of flesh,
but i like to keep some things to myself.
i like to keep my issues drawn,
it's always darkest before the dawn.

shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out.
and it's hard to dance with a devil on your back, 
so shake him off.

i'm also really into james taylor right now, with a side of billy joel.
and my other jam of the day is you were born by cloud cult.

you were born into a strange world.
like a candle, you were meant to share the fire.
i don't know where we come from, and i don't know where we go.
but my arms were made to hold you, so i will never let you go.
cause you were born to change this life.
you were born to chase this light.

because sometimes all you need
are some jams to give you your jam back, right?
some jams for january.
jamming january.

in honor of education and a final finals week,
i leave you with a photo from the depths of old photo books.
just a little preschool babykrem front and center there from over 20 years ago.

finals week and regression into an incompetent human
alleviated in part by lover, spotify study playlists, and playlists from the bean.

*SFD brought to you by anne lamott and brené brown,
the brilliant humans that they are.
also, probably everyone everywhere
should read rising strong 
at one or multiple points in their life,
because it's just that good.
not even one bit exaggerating.
you're welcome for the gift idea.

merry christmas.
happy finals.
are we done yet?
baaaiiiiii.

i'm trying to write more.

and not be insecure about it.

because writing is good for me and my heart and soul.

(because, realtalktotallyhonest: i'm really insecure about writing any personal words lately.)

and i have stopped writing this year, 

with really good reasons because my focus has been elsewhere.

but i'm trying to start again in multiple forms and venues:

emails, blogs, maybe journals.

messy and stormy and wild mess, though it may be in the process, 

i'm trying.

so if you're bothered by the drafts and messes

that come in writing my thinks, feels, and life:

carry on.

this old world must still be spinning 'round.

man only likes to count his troubles; he doesn't calculate his happiness.
fyodor mikhailovich dostoevsky, notes from the underground.

i saw this quote once about how talking about our troubles and problems is our habit. instead we should break the cycle. talk about our joys. focus on the positive, you could say. express gratitude for what is working and going right. calculate the happiness instead of tallying the troubles.

i'm just as guilty as anyone of getting caught in this cycle.
frustration with the constant deluge of stresses, particularly in grad school.
it's hard. it's frustrating. it's exhausting. it just is.
but.
i wish.
i wish to not get so caught in those troubles.

there's a beautiful bright future ahead.
personally and professionally.
there's so much that i've learned.
personally and professionally.

and.
i'm trying to be more conscious of
the good
here and now and always.
to soak it in and revel in it.
to calculate it up and forget the tally of troubles.

- - -

i really love walking in the cold. last december, i once walked to and from a homecoming down in provo that was a 15-20 minute walk down a hill (and back up the hill to return) and winding through the streets of provo. my grandma was horrified when she found out i walked. it snowed on the way there. it snowed even harder on the way back. but something in that grey cold on the day that marked two years since i'd returned from ukraine, a walk in the cold just felt so right.

i mean. let's not get carried away. i don't love being cold. i don't love when shivers dig deep into your bones and it feels impossible to ever be warm again.

but there's something about walking city streets (or abandoned streets) with a chill on my face in the dark that just. feels so nostalgic and cathartic.

it simultaneously kills me and thrills me.

#justukrainethings

- - -

i've been listening (#thiscommutinglyfethough) to a book lately about trauma and the effect on mind and body. it's fascinating and horrifying and inspiring all at the same time. a beautiful perspective on the human experience and mindfulness. and especially valuable in context of experiences i've had in the past working with people (particularly children) from rougher backgrounds.

in addition to that, though. even more now i see.

i had a mild case of ptsd upon returning from ukraine.
(which is a very large can of worms on its own.)

but it's just interesting.
to hear and see.
to reflect upon and recognize
just how far i've come
in these almost-three (!!!) years.

there's so much to ukraine that often i can hardly even let myself think about it. but other days it bubbles over and i remember her in all her beautifully sincere, suffering, frigid glory. don't cry for me, Украина. the truth is--i'll always love you. i can't help it. though it took some ice-chipping to reach and see, you are a land of gold. and i'd be remiss if i didn't credit those joys.

i've hardly ever loved so deeply as i did then.
i've hardly ever suffered so deeply as i did then.
isn't it funny how those two experiences so often come hand-in-hand?

it's a deep, inexplicable experience in a deep, inexplicable place.
there's something about that eastern land.
something that can't be expressed,
but only felt and experienced personally.

pain and suffering are always inevitable 
for a large intelligence and a deep heart.
the really great men must, i think, 
have great sadness on earth.
fyodor mikhailovich dostoevsky, crime and punishment.

the darkness that hangs--
it's not a myth.
there's a literal different heaviness in the air there,
as mystical as that may sound.
in a literal and figurative sense.
there's a vibe that can't be spoken,
but is shared in knowing eyes by those who have been there.
though anyone who truly digs inside finds,
a land and people of pure gold.
the kind that could only come of
knowing sadness in a way that cultivates the deepest kindness.

she was harsh, but so good to me.
as, i think, so many others would say, too.

with so much distance now,
i've been trying to remember again.
what was it that made it traumatic?
what was it that made it so hard?
what spurred the need for that recovery period upon returning for nearly all who were there?
many things.
combinations of things.
but.
i'm remembering.
i'm grateful to have experienced it.
i'm grateful to be home.

anyway. i guess i just am saying.
i've been thinking about my ukraine more than usual lately.
there i experienced some of the most
magnified horrifying and magnified goodness
that i've ever known.
and i'm also saying that i like to walk in the cold.
something about it stirs up something deep in my soul.
and also that--
i don't care who you are or what your background is--
this book is fascinating and insightful.

- - -

i'm getting married in 77 days.
7 is one of my favorite numbers.
(7 and 8, if you wanted to know.)
there's a lot i want to write about it.
(let's be honest, there's a lot i want to write about a lot of things.)
some days it feels like a blur of time that will never come.
other days it feels like it's only a week away.
i suppose that's how it goes, isn't it?

most of life feels like a blur these days.

you know what doesn't?
the fact that i picked up my wedding dress yesterday.
despite nightmares that i would hate it,
it's fine because it's the most beautiful thing.
erryone can just take a deep breath and breathe easy now.

- - -

i'm exhausted.
deep-in-my-bones exhausted.
thank heavens grad school is winding down.
are we done yet?
it's not even that it's hard at this point.
i just. it's just so draining.
i'm excited for externships.
terrified.
but excited to experience more fully this profession.
it's a beautiful one, you know?
a hidden gem, this speech-language pathology business.

but also.
sometimes i feel like i'm losing neurons, not strengthening them.
like. maybe i'm actually getting stupider, not smarter?
maybe.

- - -

i'm behind on pretty much everything in my life.
top of that list is probably in writing the heart and soul of life.
i feel like i've lost the ability to write anymore in general,
but also about myself, my heart, and my life.

okay, so it's a tie at the top of the list for
how behind i feel on all the school-related things
i need to accomplish in the next 10 days.
including things i've barely started.
woof.

- - -

thus begins the end of one of the fastest years of my life.

i do love twinkle lights and twinkle season.
happy december.

love and air.

i believe in love. 

love that's real, love that's strong,

love that loves on and on.

yes, i believe in love. 

(i believe in love, dixie chicks.)

if you were to gently press two fingers to the wrist of love, i believe you'd feel a gentle, steady pulse. a consistent beating matched with harmonious inhalations and exhalations, all of which together universally signify one very important attribute: life. 

i was in romania when i learned for the first time in my adult life what it truly means to love. to see the face of love and know what love really means. since that time, it's only become magnified and expanded upon. anything i had ever known about love up to that point converged into one, distinct moment: when i saw, for the first time, the face of love. 

most mornings at the orphanage, i purposefully went upstairs first, even though i knew my other kids were already outside playing on the swings. there were three who could walk, and a few others who were invigorated by means of a wheelchair carrying their restricted bodies.

the rest? they remained quietly upstairs, consigned to cribs or beds due to their physical state. three, especially--let's call them felicity, danny, and amelia. three precious beings with cerebral palsy stretching from their brains through their bent limbs and down to their toes. they were always in bed. felicity and danny were side-by-side in two beds smashed together, a special, silent kinship between them, amelia in a crib near the foot of their bed. 

on all those days i spent with them, i sought to discover this one thing: what keeps their heart beating. what does the beat of their love sound like? so i rested my fingers on their souls and took a listen, allowing it to seep into my soul.

one sweltering morning, i made my way up to them to massage their under-used muscles, sing to them, and talk to them. sometimes it was in romanian, sometimes it was in english. i don't think they minded. and as i spent a bit of time concentrating on amelia, i looked deep into her eyes and was surprised with the love i felt inside myself. that was the moment that i realized my love for them, not as a collective unit, but as individuals. i loved the way amelia always perked up with a certain song i'd sometimes sing. i loved the connection between felicity and danny. i loved danny's ever-present smile and cheerful disposition. i loved felicity's gentle sweetness. to say nothing of all the other kids and all the other moments--all those moments that have since become memories to show me my love for them.

and not a single one of those three ever uttered a single word. without a single word exchanged, a door of love opened. inside that door? i came to know their individual identities, trapped within bodies left wanting for a bit of anything. nevertheless, they were content with the breaths they had. invigorated even more by such willingness to give and partake of the breath of fresh love.

i've never had my heart so fully filled as it was then. in reaching into their souls.
i've never seen so directly the influence of love on a human soul as i did then.
my heart swelled wide with love that i gave so freely, and received more than i ever could have anticipated.

there's something about little humans--
they way they love so easily, openly, and willingly.
the sound of the beats and breaths of their love is almost deafening, 

invigorating everything it touches.

love breathes like a filter,
dissolving anything that once was toxic.
with love we breathe.

(this little rough draft of words written late june 2016.)

notes from the underground--grad school edition, volume 12.

okay, okay.
i know.

I KNOW.

so maybe it's been over two months
since i've had a little note about anything at all.
(shoutout to janessa for noticing and appreciating the struggle.)

i've been a little preoccupied.
that's part of it.
also, i've had a hard time sitting down to write in any form,
aside from soap notes and reports, of course.
cause those thangs never end.
ever.
(insert all the unamusedemojifaces here.)

but i'm going to try.
i'm going to try to catch up on
the twelve (read: trillion)
different things there are to write about.

turns out getting engaged (!!!!!!!!! << times infinity)
on top of the usual grad school rigor
means you fall off the planet.
honestly speaking, though?
i got none regrets over here.
pretty sure natum's has got none neither.

(clearly my language abilities are excelling these days.)

unfortunately,
i'm not there yet.
not quite ready to make that journey
into the writing cave.
instead?
i have an exam to study for,
sessions to plan,
soaps to soon write,
more reports to write,
and projects to complete.
(or start. you know. same struggle.)

in the interim,
before i actually can give myself a minute
to enter the writing cave,
i grace you,
the handful of people who even read this blog (hi, janessa👋🏼),
with this hilariously adorable video
of me and my fiancé being delightfully awkward and charmingly hilarious.
(cause. you know. as of october 4th i have me one of those fine fiancé thangs.)

here we are, right on over here.

it's fine. i don't know portuguese either.
mostly our facial expressions are funny.
(to me, anyway. i get myself a little giggle when watching parts of it.)
and we do speak english for a shining little spell in there.

(we know. we're nerds and adorable.🤓🤗)

plus a shameless selfie for good measure.

because. why not?

( you're welcome. )

notes from the underground--grad school edition, volume 11.

the clinic has been flooded with new students these days.
a bunch of perky first years running around,
all with apprehensive terror in their eyes.

were we that perky?
we don't think so.
gosh, i hope not.

have you ever noticed that the true sign of
feeling like you're getting the hang of something,
is when you're no longer the new kids on the block?

i mean.
we're fully aware of the terror of what graduation means.
we're fully aware of how much we don't know.
we're fully aware of how grossly unprepared we feel for the real world.
but.
also.
we're fully aware of every second of the past year.
we're (becoming) fully aware that.

we really have learned something.
we really have learned a lot.

in this field,
you spend your whole life learning.
any given client can walk in your door,
any given child can walk into your school,
any given patient can end up in your medical facility.
and suddenly nothing you've really learned applies anymore.
suddenly before you is a brand new puzzle.

we can't know everything.
especially considering how young this field is.
oh my gosh is there so much we don't know.

but you know what we do know?
we know how to tackle anything.
we know what to watch for and how to approach things.

the main difference i've noticed in clinic this fall
compared to previous semesters,
(especially compared to back in january)
is the autonomy we're provided.
our supervisors.
generally speaking--
they trust us.
they follow our observations,
validate our line of thinking,
support the conclusions we come to.
i mean.
of course they're still supervising.
of course they're still the licensed authority in the building.
but they've stepped back much more than before in all areas,
not just in the therapy room.

and you know what?
our plans and thoughts and observations?
they're usually on exactly the right track.
they provide guide posts, of course.
but.
it's much less supervision,
and much more corroboration.
the reins of implementation are entirely in our hands.

little glimpses into the eyes and souls of those terrified first-years
confirm this beautiful truth:
the very worst that grad school has to offer?
it's over.
we've long-since embarked on that downhill slide.
and the light at the end?
it's finally starting to appear.

just see how far we've come.
hallelujah.

wishes kept.

i feel the need to write tonight,

but i couldn't quite tell you why.

perhaps a continuation of what i started writing months ago on love.

maybe on clients and graduate school. 

maybe on things closer to the heart.

however.

i'm in the midst of one of those phases of chaos 

in which exhaustion is perpetual, 

and processing life never gets put into concrete words.

i wish i had words more.

i wish i didn't say that so much.

but i do.

i know myself.

i know i have to write.

and often--

writing, 

in some form or another, 

is the answer.

it's how i come to understand 

and muster through 

this thing called life.

i want to write a whole post dedicated to the experience of 

being involved in the intensive stuttering clinic.

i want to write about life and love and people and connection.

i want to write about the hand of God.

i want to write about families and those connections.

i want to write about my whole first year of graduate school,

now that it's almost the beginning of the second year.

i want to write about a lot of things.

i want to change the world, 

instead i sleep.

song of the day: keep breathing, ingrid.

i sleep.

because it's all i can do 

to keep breathing.

explosions of light in the sky.

( because i just really really love the fourth of july. )