This blog post is different. It is about why I try so hard to see the beautiful wherever I can. Every day I am exposed to some of the ugliest truths. I am a social worker for those of you who do not know. I love my job. I love what I do. I am proud of what I do; however nearly every day I walk away feeling tremendously worried and scared. Not for myself, but for the children I would give my life for.

A 6 year old watched his mother overdose. A 10 year old was abandoned by first his father and then his mother. A child was abused by his step father. And you feel sorry for them. You should. Are their parents villains? How could they do these things or allow these things to happen to their children? Now let's fast forward to these children's 18th birthdays and now do you feel sorry for them? Or are you crossing the street to get away from them? If one of them is shot are you piecing together evidence to prove perhaps he had it coming? 'Well, the school suspended him for having weed paraphernalia. He looked suspicious. He shouldn't have been wearing a hoodie.' The girl who had no father and whose mother was depressed all of her childhood. The girl who was molested at 7. She is 22 with 3 kids now. She's a whore. She's milking the system. Stealing your tax dollars. Do you feel sorry for her now?

There is a lot to be said about personal responsibility.  I believe in it. I encourage it. I believe that when you have children you have a duty to step up and the things that happened to you must come second, third, fourth to that child. But what about the responsibility that we have as a community and as a humanity? We put systems in place supposedly to help these children. I work within the system and I will be honest with you- the systems are designed to fail. Education, social services...they are designed to reinforce what people already believe to be true about race and class.  If a child fails we are blameless because they had
'chances'. If they succeed it is another sign that some people can pull themselves up by their bootstraps. Some people are just better right? (Please note- that's sarcasm)  Another stereotype reinforced. The systems are designed to maintain a status quo that thrives on society remaining as it is. Are we the villains then? But then how many of us debt ourselves and work for little pay so that we can be the villain? I would say next to none of us think that it would be great to make very minor salaries so that we can reinforce stereotypes and be told 'Oh your job must be so hard, but so rewarding. But I would never do that' or 'Oh, but you get summers off.'

Then who is the villain? Who does it benefit for the system to fail is the real question. It isn't the kids, it isn't the teachers, it isn't the social workers, and it sure isn't the communities that the kids come from. I am not going to answer that though. I just want you to think about it. And here is what I really want you to think about- don't these children deserve better? We need to start challenging one another to ask- why don't WE deserve better? Because we all deserve better than what is going on. I hear people speak in disparaging ways about communities and I wonder when did zip codes begin defining community? When did we lose focus that we are a humanity- a collection of humans- a community all of us? And when did we lose focus of empathy? We must teach and learn empathy so that we don't fight in solitary, but in solidarity. So that our struggle doesn't turn to greed. So that we fight together with the understanding that WE ALL DESERVE BETTER.

When systems don't believe in love because it isn't measurable or in compassion because it isn't billable there is a real problem. It is ALL of our problem. It is rooted in race and class no matter how much we want to think that it is not. I am not saying this to be hurtful. I am not saying it to point fingers. I am saying it because this is the truth I am living. We re-routed a bus of children today because two blocks from one of the children's home was a shooting with two victims. One of our children had an Uncle killed by gun violence around when Newtown occurred. So many of our children have been abused. We feel sorry now. We skirt consequences for them now because of our sympathy, but we will throw them away when they are 18. Tears flow from my eyes as I write this because how many of these children that I love will die before they are even 18? They deserve better.

Who is the villain? Perhaps we all are for being complacent. But I want to be a hero. I deserve better. You deserve better. We all deserve better. When we judge people we must take a moment to think more largely, because there is a bigger story. A bigger story then one person. A bigger story than one community. It is the story of us- do we want to re-write it though? Or do we want it to continue as is? I think that we can all be heroes. Let's find the beauty in one another.

I am anxious for Spring, daffodils, and sunny weather; however this snow day (hopefully our last) was perfectly needed and necessary and perhaps will help me to be all the more grateful for the aforementioned things. There has been something I have been most grateful for and have meant to share and now have time to do so as a result. I'm afraid there will be no pictures this post though.

Anyhow, last Saturday was bright though there was still snow on the ground from another snow (though small) storm. I had to be up and about early that morning and after my business was done I decided to get lunch and eat eat by the pond at the Forest Hills Cemetery. I knew that the bright sun reflecting on the snow would be particularly beautiful and that the geese by the pond would be out (I had alternative motives for wanting to see the geese- I hoped to give them some of my bread and thus spare myself the carbs). I did not anticipate that the grounds and the roads within the Cemetery would only be partially cleaned. I started down one path and was enjoying myself greatly. As I suspected everything looked amazing. The beautiful gravestones stood especially proud and tall from the snow. Down another path I went and again I was struck by the beauty and then as most paths do it came to a fork. And both paths were covered in snow. I couldn't turn back without needing to back into the graves and I was not going to do that. I thought about going in reverse as an option, but the snow on either path didn't seem too daunting and I judged I could easily cross it in the car. I turned left and I was right UNTIL...

The end of the path- there was a huge snow bank from the plows. It seemed potentially surmountable though and I braved it. So stupid. All my Southern lack of real snow experience was in effect and the car was angry. I was stuck in the snow bank like Pooh Bear in the honey hole. I got out of the car. What was I going to do? Did I have a shovel? No, because clearly I also had no sense. So my great idea? I began kicking the snow with the hopes that would help. Did it? Of course not. I was at a loss. And then two women approached with two adorable dogs.

"Need a hand there?"

I SO did. These two women were clearly tough too. They were decked out in appropriate winter gear and boots and looked as if they understood Massachusetts winters in ways I never will. My confidence in them was expansive. Their idea? Push my car over the snow bank. And they pushed. They pushed hard, but the car didn't budge. Then walked up an older man and his wife. He was chuckling long before he made it up to us.

"A man is here to help," he stated as he arrived.

Now, normally that would tick me off quite a bit; however the way he said it wasn't meant to be mean spirited. He was, I could tell with one look, a jovial and fun man, who likely was the life of any party. And his wife was clearly tickled with him. He joined the push party...still it didn't budge. He took on my method and began kicking snow.

"Learned this trick while I was stationed in Iraq," he joked. We all laughed. Especially his wife. And then she joined in to push and with her added help I was over the bank. I was ecstatic and spilled gratitude profusely.

"Got some money for us?" he asked.
"If I had some I would," I replied.
"We would never take it. We are glad to help."
"Exactly," added in one of the women. "Our pleasure."
"It's beautiful here right?" he asked me.
"I love it here," I replied.

And then we all parted. I came to the Cemetery to experience beauty in the juxtaposition of nature, art, and death and I found all of those things, but I also found humanity- the most beautiful thing of all. I hope you are all cozy and warm.

 A week late...thank goodness there are no fines for this.  I am already knee deep in library fines as it is. Maybe I really should return those book soon. Anyhow...here are my thoughts and photos from my trip to The Habitat Sanctuary in Belmont. I was accompanied on this trip by my kindred spirit and best friend. It was nice to share some of my nature therapy with another and we had a wonderful day. We also stopped by Drumline Farms. I took less photos there as I was engaged in feeling this close to one of my dreams- having a farm and a pet little red fox. Precious. The farm was precious. There were some very fat and cozy sheep, a baby kid born only the day before, and my new favorite creature a little orphaned and tame red fox, who I will call Ferrari. Or not. I am not sure of his name yet. I am only sure that I was in love. Now on to Belmont- 

The sanctuary is quite small; however filled with little delights including a tree that had been hollowed out by lightening. The keepers of the sanctuary must have realized it was a 'catch' and put bolts into so it would stay intact. An art installation of sorts. Being short was a blessing this day because I fit inside the tree. It seemed almost as if I was just a bit smaller I could climb up to some far off place.

While on our walk my mom called. I sat on a little log while we talked. This tree was in my direct view standing proud and strong.

"Walking I am listening to a deeper way. Suddenly all my ancestors are behind me. Be still, they say. Watch and listen. You are the result of the love of thousands."

-Linda Hogan (Native American author, not Hulk's ex) 

On my way for drinks to discuss The Dorchester Project. More info to come soon. :) Until then have a great end of your weekend!!

What a weekend! I was so blessed to be able to go to not one but THREE sanctuaries this weekend. The weekend was a bit of whirlwind of activity; however all of it was nourishing though in wildly different ways. Saturday in Massachusetts was simply gorgeous. The sun hung brightly in the sky and the weather was what could be considered warm given the rest of the Winter...oh dear. I have been living out of the South long enough the low 40s is considered warm...neither here nor there. Saturday was perfection and so though I had other Saturday plans I decided to travel to The Daniel Webster Sanctuary in Marshfield. I was rewarded for my flexibility as The DW Sanctuary was heaven and made me feel as if I was closer to Tennessee (the home of my Southern soul) then I have been in some time.

The place is just bananas in all the various things it offers. You walk out and the first thing you are greeted with is a pond where the friendliest geese live. They happily greet you as you proceed. The sun hits off the water and creates prisms everywhere. It made me think of what Glimmer Lake must have looked like to Anne in the Anne of Green Gables books.

Next you find yourself on a mini boardwalk that takes you through marshlands. Trees burst out from their watery roots and the sun shines through the canopy of trees as you walk through what is alternately creepy and magical.

You spill out from the marshlands into a field that leads you past another pond and over a charming bridge...it smells fresh and there is a sound of buzzing ATVs in the background and this is what made me feel so at home. It literally smelled and sounded like home. The sun was its brightest here and everything seemed to call to me.


Tomorrow I will share my pictures from the Habitat in Belmont as well as tell you a bit about Drumline Farms in Lincoln aka where I want my House of Dreams one day. This week I will also be introducing The Dorchester Project (potentially a more creative name for it too), which will be my new effort to focus on finding beauty within our own neighborhoods and daily life. I have spent a lot of this blog focusing on my hikes and nature walks, which I want to continue to do; however I also want to get closer to the roots of why I began this all. I hope you have an excellent start of your week and I look forward to spending more time with you via blog this week.

"Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars...to change the world"
-Harriet Tubman

Oh dear...Monday I found myself sick again. I quite literally lost my voice. And unlike Tinkerbell it could not be revived with applause and faith. Though at the time I was quite restless about my home bound situation I was able to find time to enjoy the little pleasures of being home. Yet again I was inspired by my kitchen window and the posse of stray cats that seem to call my backyard home. The following is a snippet I collected in my journal. I attempted to venture out to take pictures; however as I have found there are some things that we can capture on film, others we can capture with words, and still others that can never be captured and that remain wild and vivid only in our own minds. So though my words below may fail to capture quite the scene it is my feeble attempt to share something quite lovely with y'all:

-a bright red cardinal is what initially caught my eye. He was hopping about the large evergreen. His bright red color made him easy to see as he poked around the tree.
-its little friend I spotted soon after. A little dark brown bird with a nose like a cranberry kiss and a touch of flame at its breast.
-as they played a patient cat sat at the base of the tree staring into space, but keenly aware of what was happening in his tree. The tree in his mind is clearly his tree. It may be in my backyard; however I couldn't say that a human owner could call dibs on ownership. That is a battle between the cats and birds.
-two other wild cats were playing on the lingering snow, chasing each other merrily.
-touches of the last snow haunt the edges of the evergreen and the battle lines between Spring and Winter are drawn.

So hard to capture in words...and with all the movement impossible on film, but hopefully y'all catch the gist. So many things happen right under our noses...we just have to take a moment to find whole other worlds open to us.

Living in Boston one would think that this post would be filled with snow covered images and things of that ilk. The snow is on my mind (and still on my boots) and I am working on a post about investment that was inspired by this righteous blizzard; however today I would like to revisit a sun drenched day that I had only a mere week ago...

On a whim I had traveled to Broadmoore Sanctuary. Well, perhaps it was less of a whim and more a desire to escape something that has been weighing on me more heavily that the snow on the branches of the trees. I have realized that as of late I have let a certain something steal my light. I believe that we should share our light with others. That we can be the light at the end of the tunnel for one another at times of personal darkness, but we should never let anyone take our light. I say this because I am a positive and lighthearted person yet I sometimes allow myself and my light to be diminished. I encourage all of us to nourish ourselves and if there are situations or people in our lives that are not healthy for us- or that we are in turn not healthy for either- to examine whether or not health can be restored. Furthermore, we often drop the things that nourish us the most when we become busy and when our lives become congested so I further challenge myself and you to-

"Recover or discover something that nourishes your soul and brings you joy, and care enough about yourself to make room for it in your life"

Jean Shinoda Bolen

And now on to what nourishes my own soul and my respite from little earthquakes....

 At certain points of my walk I felt for sure I was a character in Lord of the Rings. I walked with purpose as if on a quest.

 Everywhere I looked were little patches of mossy beauty. I adore Blue Hills; however there is not often  any sign of creatures of the non human variety. At Broadmoore I heard birds chirping all around me and saw them playing among the trees. Their song brought me hope.

'Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement. Nothing can be done without hope and confidence'.

- Helen Keller

Stand tall and shine bright my friends.