ophelia


I don't write about movies often, but when I do it's because I either adored it or detested it. And Ophelia is a winner.

Because of the 1990s Hamlet with Helena Bonham-Carter being shown in my English Literature class in high school, I had the nickname Ophelia since Helena Bonham-Carter is considered one of my doppelgängers. I even had the long and wildly straggly curly hair to match. So when this movie was coming out, I just had to see it. I truly was holding my breath on it since I hate to get my hopes up and get disappointed. Sometimes, movies do that.

One of my biggest worries was that Daisy Ridley would be Rey instead of Ophelia. But she really kept her personal mannerisms out of it for the most part. I could see how she tamed herself to be Ophelia, and I am impressed.

The story was amazing too. I won't get into it too much, but I simply adore how they filled out all of the in between the lines spaces that I never imagined needed filling. It was brilliant and fun and so clever. I look forward to reading Hamlet with my students this year (and picking it apart with this fresh take in mind).

If you love Hamlet or even hate Hamlet, I recommend this movie. It is accessible Shakespeare. It refreshes an old tale while inviting us to look between the lines of other stories as well.

Also—the styling and costuming is immaculate. Simply gorgeous.

You must watch it the next chance you get!


tokens of affection


gifts
love and kindness
perfume and kisses
time
care
consideration
tokens like knickknacks
on a shelf
waiting
to find their purpose
taking up space
in hearts
holding
too little value
thrown around like
pretzels
at the fair
with a clock
striking midnight
without someone
there
to
care



making connections



I'm doing that ESL Arts Camp thing again this summer. Anyone who has been reading my blog for awhile will remember some of my adventures with the Chinese students I learned to love in ten days flat. For those who are new to my writing space, it is an exciting and rewarding experience to teach in a submersive environment, just jumping in with students who are jumping into our country to learn our language through song and dance—literally.

There are always a few students who are shy and always some who love me right off the bat. Just like any school year—but it all goes down in about ten days (or less) worth of interaction. The interruption to summer break would have felt like I was being cheated of the well deserved respite from the teaching grind if I didn't love the experience as much as I do. These students are simply inspiring by being so brave to try new things that I am in awe.

If you've never had the chance to teach foreign language speakers, I highly recommend it. There's something about language vulnerability that breaks down walls and makes everyone bond even faster than in a typical classroom. The connections are special and unforgettable.

It's only the first day for me, so I have my adventure still ahead of me these next two weeks!




eat up, buttercup


In my quest to cultivate humility, I seem to be a glutton for putting myself in new and interesting situations. The higher the chance to be uncomfortable the better, I guess. The last couple of weeks provided some of those situations, and thankfully, I haven't had to eat too much humble pie. Yet.

Trying new things, pondering complicated things, and talking about difficult things have led me to see how seeking a humble path gives me time to think and make better choices. Clarity is a beautiful thing especially when you might make a total idiot out of yourself. At least you're going in head first.

My summer has been transformational so far as I've had time to let change do its work and open my heart to surprising things. So much has changed just since school got out that I wonder what life will even look like once the new school year begins at the end of August. It is a mystery to be sure!




finding home


In the cool shade of a long summer's day, I find you.
Touching on the blue of sky and all the hues of green,
Dancing in memories of yesterdays, todays, and tomorrows,
Somehow you always find me, drawing me into you.

Without thinking, you found me, and I found you.
Discovering each other and ourselves
As we let the world carry us away even though
You loved me, and I loved you.

We danced together then apart.
We ran from our tender hearts.
We broke our very own hearts.
We drove our happiness apart.

Focusing upon the trees, we lost sight again and again
When the forest was right here, patiently waiting
For us to stop running for a moment and breathe.
Take this breath with me, once more, again and again.

Because nothing should ever keep us
From the perfect affection we founded
Upon the gentle innocence of youth
And the goodness we planted just for us.

Join me in our garden of goodness blooming forever.
Even when we might forget to tend,
It gives and gives and gives
Without stopping, without end, for us forever.

Interconnected, together even when apart,
Despite time and space and circumstance,
The light is always on for us—
Never strangers, always there, never really apart.

Paint with me a picture we never want to leave.
Show me how my broken heart is safe in yours.
Give me again the trust you gave so long ago.
Walk with me on our garden's path, so I'll know you'll never leave.

Pull me close, my heart, my home.
Let's heal together, like grafted trees, that we might see where life might go
Today into tomorrow, yesterday into forever.
Let our love become our home.

















half a year of humility


When you choose the word humility for your word of the year, it doesn't quite sink in what might happen.

In the past six months, I have had such wonderful highs. The level of joy just on my face was causing people to comment on my happiness. It was noticeable. And even that added to my happiness. I think the joyfulness of it all was because love inched up from behind and surprised me. I was so surprised and happy. But then it went wrong.

I'm not sure what happened really. I thought there was something tangible when my heart was really just an abandoned shack wishing it were a home. To be honest, I am humbled to the dust with how it nose-dived when I felt it had been blossoming.

The missing my darling friend part hurts the most though. We did so much together over the past year and then some. It's so strange to carry on without him to tell stuff to and ask if he wants to join me for this or that fun thing, to not be invited by him. I really hate it.

And that's when I feel deep humility. I search my soul for what I might have done or said to be off-putting that I'm not even considered good company as a friend. I will be myself. No doubt about that. But I can wonder still. I don't like losing friends. And maybe I haven't lost the friendship entirely, but it feels like that since the space between us got created, forced into existence.

My heart is humbled, and I am unsure where to set it but aside. I have simply been setting it aside and talking to God about what I should do with it all. The quiet loss of words I taste in my mouth as my mind races through the empty rooms is more than I can face. I keep going to heal and deal with the hurt. I haven't really written very openly until now. And even still, I am not sure how open this is. Does it seem transparent to you? I am trying to be. I have been sitting next to my broken heart watching for words to come, and these are what I could face. The humbling of my heart. The quietness of humility and loss of something that brought me such energy of hope. The pride I had in myself for being able to love again. These are the things I couldn't say, I think.

Is life all terrible? No. Not even close. I am still in a beautiful, comfortable home. I have clothes and food and my four children with me. I have a job I love and freelance work coming in. I have hobbies I enjoy like family history work and writing and leisure reading I've been able to indulge in so far this summer. I have extended family who seem to care about me. Friends reach out, so I know it's not just me pushing myself on anyone. I am appreciated regularly and told I'm pretty and kind, and you know, those things matter. They make life nice.

I just really thought maybe someone might have begun to really love me. That's all. And I am seeing what humility looks like as I reach my focus around the hurt to be thankful that I even had a spark of hope again. I am thankful for all of it. Even the sad part. Because a year ago, I had no idea I would even been able to love someone again as much as I have.

Humility has helped me see how much I have even in the face of loss.