A Bonafied Coffee Shop Blog Post

Well I'm not sure where blogging actually started or by who or how, but I am going to submit this theory:  It started by a person in a coffee shop (not a franchise shop like Starbucks or Second Cup or anything, but a little local coffee shop with eclectic furniture and dishes and stuff), by a person who felt particularly philosophical or knowledgeable about random things that popped into their brain.  I do not feel like I am even the slightest bit of that, and it's all so very cliche (and no doubt I love a good cliche ;).  However I AM writing from Starbucks this evening.....

It's kind of a perfect summer evening today.  And so was yesterday, actually.  Limited humidity, sunshine, a small breeze. PERFECT.

My summer has been amazing.  Working a small bit at camp, hanging out and taking special trips around with Lorena,  running my guts out, reading!, some time at the cottage, and seeing my amazing friends more that I have in any summer past.  I am so, so lucky and thankful for this....  This is the first summer since I was 15 (FIFTEEN!)  that I have been able to do this.  I am pleased with myself for not wasting any of my summertime minutes; I'm doing things exactly how I want to.  OH, and maaaaan.... I'm getting to sleep IN so much!  IT'S GLORIOUS!


Starbucks is a busy place in the evenings.  Oddly enough, I came here because I wanted to be alone.  No I do not know how that works, but  this is how I'll describe it:  I can stay at home and be "alone" by closing the door to my room, or any other room in my house.  But there's always the threat of being called for something, or of someone having a "loud" dispute (common at Chez Pastrak), or being walked in on, or a whole gamut of things that could ruin your aloneness.  Tonight I opted to be alone in public because it actually does work better.  I am sitting here at this (uncomfortable!... seriously ladies behind me, stop talking about diapers and leave, your cups are empty!) table and no one is bothering me.  No one is calling me.  There is no one yelling at one another, just the low murmur of coffee drinkers engrossed in conversation (about babies, apparently) and the regular, low volume, comforting coffee shop tunes on the speakers.  I am one person in here, alone with my ponderings.  This is the stuff quiet, forever alone evenings are made of!

I've been doing this a lot lately.  I've been coming here just to read or be on my computer, alone in public.  I am infatuated with this set up.

I am not really accomplishing anything profound with what I am writing here today, and I think I'll   stop.  I think I just wanted to say I once wrote a real coffee shop blog, so now I can cross it off the list ;).  It's an amazing summer evening still.

And this is what I am currently  listening to....

I Was Here.

 

     I distinctly recall my first big attack of anxiety.  I was in grade  3.  It was Sunday night.  And suddenly, out of nowhere, I realized that I didn't want to die because I had no idea what it would be like.  I vividly remember sitting at my kitchen table, my mother across from me, crying uncontrollably because I had no idea what death looked like, or if heaven was real, or anything that would comfort me about any of it.  Was it just black? Then I'd try to think of what it was like BEFORE I was born... was that just black?  Would I see people people I knew when I was alive?  It was all far too deep and philosophical for a 9year old.  I remember being bothered by this for a long time.

     I actually continued to be bothered by it off and on for decades.  I guess that's why some people turn to religion.... it offers them some solitude and vague answers about what the afterlife might possibly look like, and that's comforting to those who seek answers this way.  But the problem is no one on Earth can answer the question, regardless of your degree of holiness or religiosity or lack thereof.  Throughout my late teens and early twenties, I specifically sought out books that depicted an image of the afterlife in them, but never quite concluded which one I liked the best.  Not that it matters.

     The point remains, though, that no one here can answer the question which asks what post-living looks like.  So.... why worry about it?  That conclusion is something I have only become comfortable with in the last very short while.  Why worry about something you have absolutely no control over?  Reaching this realization makes me a bit angry, to tell you the truth.  I have spent so much time thinking about it, as futile as it proved, and if I had been able to think more logically about it earlier on I could have been able to move on a long time ago.  Alas, I'm a bit slower at most things anyway.

     When it comes down to it, death is inevitable, and whatever it looks like is what it looks like.  And what becomes far more important is thinking about how you spend your life here, alive, each day you are given.  This question, to me, is far deeper to consider than thinking about what you will experience when you are no longer here, because it begs you to look into your character and determine the impression you want to leave here in the world.   It could, some may argue, come down to what you consider to be the meaning of life (something I now think is completely subjective and can coexist simultaneously with various other meanings within one person), and that is fine.  Ultimately, my thought is that each of us should consider how we want our immediate world to look and remember us when we are no longer here.

     9-year old Christine couldn't get over it because she hadn't lived yet.  My 29-year old self has much more experience to draw on and greater ideas for  how she wants to be remembered and the footprint she wants to leave behind her.

I want to say:
-I was a loving and compassionate human being
-I cared
-I was a good teacher
-I helped people who asked me for it
-I tried everything I wanted to try in life
-I didn't give up on things that mattered to me. 
-I influenced people (family, friends, students, my children) in a positive and meaningful way
-I loved

-I have no regrets
-I tried


-I did the best I could do in everything I did

-I challenged my fears
-I made people happy/smile/laugh
-I made life easier for at least a couple people
-I was a person with passions (mainly teaching, special ed., and running)
-I used my talents to help people

     My list doesn't include things about reputation.  Reputation is just what people think about you and it could be true or false but ultimately irrelevant.  My list speaks to my character.  Character is who you really are, when no one is looking.  I'll take character over reputation 11 out of 10 times.

     I don't really need to be famous (though, hey... added fun if it miraculously happens.  No exceptional talent to get 15 minutes here though).  But, if in my last days I can lay in my bed and run down this list and say I accomplished each item.... I will have made the difference I wanted to make and lived the life I had in mind for myself.  And if that's the case, what more could I want? 

     I wonder if people take the time to think about the life they want to live?  Or the mark they want to leave in the world?  Sometimes it seems as though what people want to be remembered for is getting the most wasted, or having the latest technology, or being the smartest, or just about anything that one-up's the person next to them. Being the best doesn't matter.  I don't want to be the smartest or prettiest or richest person if it means I don't care about other people or the world. My cynical side is scared that our society has become one of people just trying to be the winner in everything, rather than putting that energy to better use, to help make the world better.  But I could be wrong.  I want to be wrong.  Am I wrong?
     
     Ultimately, while conceptualizing the afterlife is not within our grasp, the mark you leave here on Earth when you do go is something you have complete control over.  What would your list look like?

     

     "The hearts that I touch will be the proof that I leave.... I was here"

Look With Favour Upon a Bold Beginning

Thursday was the last day of school with the students.  And it was a really good day... Quintin didn't run or poop anything up, Nicholas didn't melt down, Mapenzi didn't need any buttons sewn, and William only spit a couple times.  I've been in Room 12 for a month and a half and, even after this short time, it is still so hard to say goodbye to them.  I learned so much more from them than they learned from me, sharing so many laughs, hugs, and epiphany moments along the way.  I am indebted to these four boys.

And so with the ringing of a bell and the departure of the buses, all that stands in the way of my summer is one PD day.  It terrifies me how fast time moves along.  I vividly remember sitting in my cohort A room on the first day of teachers college, no pen, no paper, a giant ball of stress, nibbling on crackers I didn't want to be eating except for something to do.  Bart's subsequent late arrival and wise words of wisdom and calming still shimmer in my memory, because they were words of truth....   And everything did turn out just fine.  But why or how is beyond me.  I actually have no concept of how I managed to get myself from A to Z  (Z being this very moment), and to have experienced so many AMAZING things with people I have come to love and admire so much.  But I'm so grateful for every second of it.  All of it.

In September, I will be heading to London, England to teach.  Legit.  Yep.  I'm going.  For a brief moment there I was convinced it wasn't going to happen.  Stupid me.  I've been known to let the words of others swirl around in my head and sometimes I come to believe them, true or not.  I'm glad people care about me, but at the same time I need to do this.  I have had it in my heart since before Christmas, long before South Africa.  My 28 days in South Africa, though, only served to solidify my deep desire to explore the world even more, and bonus... I will get to teach at the same time.  It all consumes my thoughts, all of excitement, nervousness, joy, and adventurousness. My goal is to be teaching Kindergarten (or grade "R" as they call it), and to TRAVEL AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE!!!!  It's a huge step that I'm ready and more than willing to take.

I am stoked on summer and the things I have planned for it.  And my new red jeans.  And life in general.  Everything is amazing.

I'm also super excited to have some time to explore my mind and write a bit  this summer too!  It was a bit of a slow year for that with school in the way, but I want to get back at it and work on my skills a bit.

And I wanna sing.  In a microphone.  For people.  I don't even care if they clap for me, that's not the point.  The point is to challenge another part of me that could potentially be fun and go somewhere.

This is short and random, but it's something.