Two roads diverged...

Going through my things (wanted to and forced to by parents in the remodeling process...), I came across my middle-school English portfolios (No, I didn't save everything, but yes, I still had my 5th grade Language Arts book because I loved grammar during school. haha). One of the poems I had selected was "The Road Not Taken," by Robert Frost; it has always been a struggle for me to live with fear of missing out, and I have almost always opted for new and different with a little taste of familiar.
I used this poem when I first met my students in 2013 (not a super successful grouping of lessons, but it was kind of trial by fire, and we've come a long way. :)), and I've had an image of myself in the woods, thinking about climbing up a tree with a friend for a time, so of course it would form the basis for an expression of how I, for one, often feel in the swirling of transition. Spiraled reflection from 1.13.15:

'Two Roads diverged in a yellow wood . . ." 

and I stood frozen to the spot. Uncertain, as I was, as to how I came to that place, so,

pausing to reflect and smile upon the road that had brought me here, 

I let the sun soak in and watched it dance on the leaves,

giving thanks to the Creator and Sustainer of life

whose incredible design and intimacy weaves its way through

such things as paths in the woods and 

lives of those who have trodden here.

Also, I love fall and the change of season--

the crisp, cool air and crunch that remind you you're alive

with burning colors of foliage and sunsets against 

an otherwise strikingly blue and cloudless sky.

My heart aches with the beauty and the longing

for all to be as it "should" be

although, 

even this, I know not

yet.

How did I come to this lonely place, again?

I'm not even alone! But, I am all too aware

of those who are

those who are hopeless, lost in the wood, 

not just in the privileged place of choice that indecision holds,

but in darkness, fearful or despairing persecution,

abandonment, illness, or death.

God, rescue them; hear our prayer.

Who am I?

I kneel

and I plea

and I rise

and take a few hesitant steps

wiping the tears and claiming the truth

that it is well

Shalom has arrived and is still coming.

So... the decision remains

Which steps do I take?

Because, as we all 

all too often realize, regardless of what's going on everywhere in the world

or even the turmoil of our own minds and hearts

here we are. 

This is it:

Life.

The great adventure

of the grandiose and the mundane.

Standing at forks and making what anyone might judge to be 

good or bad choices along the way.

Scampering off the side of the path

to climb a tree.

play in the leaves,

or peer at a deer.

Maybe we shoot the poor thing or run ahead and away.

We laugh, we sing, we whistle or hum,

then we stroll silently...

The silence weighs, heavy.

Some stop to wonder if

this is the only path

in the only wood...?

or if there are 

innumerable others

and other travelers

with different beginnings and endings...?

And how do paths cross sometimes, but

not others?

And some are there all along the way

or in and out...?

Some seem to say,

"Ah, heck with these two roads!"

and they forge off into the bramble.

Others seem befuddled

by even one stray leaf and

ignore even the existence of another path. 

Some seem to choose helter-skelter

to run up

and down

over and

back

calling out to see and notify 

as to what's around each bend.

While yet others, content to wait and watch,

accompany their puppy or rest

in revelry,

curious,

as to the regular goings on in

summer

autumn

winter

spring

So, why  me?

why now?

why here?

I ask any number of selfish questions and

imagine all sorts of possibilities . . .

When suddenly,

I snap back

like getting thrown out of a high-speed tunnel of sorts

to the very spot where I started!

Here, in the yellow wood.

And, I see that same hand invite me

to climb a tree

to see 

just a bit more 

and enjoy 

the sunset of this fine day,

knowing full well that 

knowing won't exactly help,

and knowing,

in the wee hours of the morning, 

I'll be journeying on and

I'll take the path before me

with its consequences of all shapes and sizes.

But I take the hand,

its warm embrace,

and I smile,

eyes closed, and then

wide open

to inhale and exhale the cool evening air

mingled with the comforting, spicy steam 

of my tea,

hands warm, cupped around the mug.

I know this is a place I need to be,

this tree

that's been rooted and grounded, flourishing here.

Here, with my Lover, Provider, Companion, Coach, Friend, Rescuer, Peace, Hope,

Guide, Light, my Life.

Because, 

tomorrow,

we journey on,

and it will be

thrilling!

adventurous

straining

tiring

exhausting

painful

tearful

fulfilling

sweet

joyful

old and new.

Tonight,

we're here.

Because tomorrow,

we journey on.

Knowing what we know;

not knowing what we don't.

We'll wrestle and relish the richness,

arguing and striving and relinquishing

and moving forward

like you usually do

one step at a time.

Because tomorrow, 

we journey on.

And now is part of the journey, too.

Welcome back to the tundra!

First, I think I let everyone know, but I'm sure there are many lovely folks who do not know I am currently in the beautiful tundra we know as Minnesnowta--twin cities (holla!). 

There will definitely be a few students who realize mid-Feb. that Miss Ness is not at LPDV--cheers to paying attention. My stay in my old stomping grounds and my newly furbished styrofoam-wall room is . . . undefined. Intentional, but undefined. We'll get to that. For now, some confessional. 


I have not written in ages upon ages. Main reason being, life became oh-so-normal that I forgot the importance of sharing it with those outside to peer back and forth and compartir in the goings on. And, we all have to struggle with the existential doubts of adding any more word pollution to what's already out there. Then, often Kate so kindly listened to me, whether it be reading with different voices and accents or pontificating on life in this world and all its confusions. Sometimes I wrote thoughts, corresponded with dear individuals, and I frequently prayed for those outside my immediate circle, but my world got a little bit small. And I think that's ok, for a time. However, I do think my own soul benefits from speaking out and I am inspired and challenged by others who do so, so I will continue to spill from time to time in the public but hidden anonymity of yet another blog on the world wide web. 

Many, many months of ups and downs, visits and normalcy, laughter and growth, stress and wits ends, prayers and thoughts and conversations led to the decision to move back to Minnesota, at least for a season. I hope to see what this great state has to offer and get to know my family, again while seeking to discern what's next for a little longer-term. 

Some highlights from the past couple of months: 

Ending 2014
Finishing the school year with my 7th, 8th, and 9th graders, Skyping Uncle John in Biology, despedidas with co-workers and friends, last visits to Viña and getting caught in the rain, swimming and exercising outside, goodbyes with Rick & Pam who were so good to us, canning jam, Amos' goodbye giggles, visits to the beach, tears, parties, sweet words of affirmation and last-minute family visits and packing. 

Christmas and 2015
Ohio visiting Kate's home and family, reintroduced to feeling frozen, time with Em and Katniss before China, home right in time for Christmas with the family, meeting cousins' new babies, white Christmas, morning with Renae and Christmas Eve service with Wolfs, Francisco's visit with everything everything new from ice skating to walks on the lake, Family outings and hospitality, CO snowy mountains and black diamond runs in the blizzard-y snow, YMCA when it's freezing and outside exercise when it's nice, slow mornings with Mama Ness, seeing Benji and anticipating re-connecting/starting the life now that break time is over.

So here we are, a day with sunshine and snow. There is hope for each new day. Vamos, pues. 

Side note: I thoroughly enjoy basketball and have loved the opportunities to coach athletes in it, but I attest that one of the best decisions I made was joining nordic skiing my senior year of high school. Out of shape but loving every time I get to be outside and skate or classic! 
I call on you, O God, for you will answer me. . .
Show me the wonder of your great love, you who save by your right hand those who take refuge in you... Ps. 17