Herbs are Magic! (Well they're useful, anyway)

In order to be a successful blogger, many people say you should post something new every day.  Well, I don't know if I'll be able to keep that up, or if you HAVE to post every day to be "successful," but I kind of like the idea of posting something every day--it's kind of like having a column in the daily newspaper (though one I'm not being paid for).  So today I decided I'll write about herbs!

The whole culture surrounding herbs--using these natural organisms for poultices, tonics, tinctures, and the like, saying that it is better for the body--is what drew me towards bioprospecting, or looking for medicinal compounds in natural products.  Why, I thought, aren't more people in the scientific community researching more of the herbs that are used by millions--if not billions--of people around the world?  Some of the old herbalism and apothecary sciences might be old wives' tales, but not all of them.  And while there are several people doing experiments with the whole plant or with the essential oils, why aren't more scientists looking for active compounds in the herbs to validate herbalists' work or to engineer medicines that may work better for the body?  My grandmother was a self-taught herbalist, and though she died when my mother was young I grew up hearing now and then of the remedies she'd use for colds and aches and how she was a healer in the community (who did so out of the goodness of her heart, not so that she could be paid).  All of these things made me want to bring the scientific community, including modern medicine, and old remedies closer together, to bridge the gap between "traditional medicine" and "holistic medicine."

Some people think I'm crazy for wanting to learn the healing properties of herbs.  Some people think I'm crazy that I want to learn about herbs but also don't want to throw out traditional medicine.  I think that these are two parts of the same whole, and that if we bridge the gap and allow ourselves to be open-minded and learn about both vast reservoirs of knowledge that we can live more fully, with less pain, less stress, and more physical and spiritual health.  Is that such a bad thing?

Because of my schooling, and the fear shrouded in laziness that I eluded to in my previous post, I have not had the chance to learn much about herbs over the past year.  I did purchase several books on medicinal plants of the Rocky Mountains, as well as a starter book of edible herbs to grow.  I have successfully kept my herbs indoors throughout the winter without them dying (most of them, anyway.  My poor peppermint will probably have to be replanted).  I know a vague bit about the medicinal properties of ginger, peppermint, and chamomile.  This year, I hope to expand my knowledge of herbs and plant at least one new type of herb.  That herb is Anise.  I don't know much about it, except that I love its licorice flavor and that chewing the seeds after eating can help with digestion and preventing bad breath.  So, here's to 2014, when hopefully I'll be able to get into a graduate school and start my dream of bridging two worlds.

Resurrecting the Blog, and Finding My Passion

Hello, Everyone!

It's been a long time since I last posted on this blog (last I checked, it was sometime in 2010), and I debated whether I should start a new blog or just resurrect this old one.  As I'm (obviously) not very good at the whole social media/blogging/getting my voice out there thing, I decided I'd just resurrect this one.  Last time I wrote, I was in the middle of teaching, hoping to get out of work in time to make the one-hour drive home before the "winter storm to end all storms" hit.  (FYI, the "winter storm" turned out to be a lot of blustery wind, some big clouds, and a little drizzle)  Today, three-and-a-half years later, I am no longer a teacher.  I decided to stop teaching (personal reasons I won't bore you with), go back to school, get a second degree in biology, and go on to graduate school in the hopes of becoming a mad scientist with the know-how to conquer the world!

Okay, honestly, I wanted to help to save the world by finding new compounds from natural sources that could cure diseases and alleviate illnesses.

So, what has brought me back to this lowly blog, in the hopes of resurrecting a fallen beast?

I didn't get into my grad school of choice.

Now, that doesn't mean I won't get into grad school, as I have already interviewed at a second school and haven't heard back from four others, but it came as a heavy blow.  I knew I'd messed up on one or two interviews, that I'd been really flustered and had made some major errors when explaining my research experience, but this was THE school, with THE program, that made me decide that quitting teaching and landing myself in debt with seemingly insurmountable student loans was the right choice.  And, well, not getting into this school, of all schools, made me question my choice that I made in late March of 2011.

How could I, who was so sure of myself, who got good grades the first and second time around, not get into the program I desired?  Was I so cut off from the world, so lost in myself, that I had developed some fatal flaw?  Was I a pariah, untouchable by graduate schools?

Self-doubt, if you can't guess, at its finest.

And so, as I examine myself and my life these past few years, I've realized something: I have not let my passion flourish and grow.  I believe that this wonderful earth, this extraordinary planet we live on, is full of plants, animals, fungi, bacteria, little amoebas, viruses, that can all help to save us from ourselves.  I believe that this planet was given to us by God, to rule over, but not in the way that some people think.  We are meant to be stewards of this earth, to rule in kindness, and by studying this planet and all its inhabitants, we can find all we need right where we stand.  I believe that every living thing has a purpose, whether to look upon as beautiful or to provide us with a compound that can cure cancer, and it is up to us to find it, care for it, and learn from it.  Yet, though I am passionate about this, I have not allowed myself to learn about it, to grow from it, to become wiser through it.  I have sat back for the past three years and let the world pass me by, scared in my own little room, terrified of what I might encounter.

For that is my fatal flaw: fear, disguised as slothfulness.

I vow to overcome this fear, to find--or re-find--the magic of the world and the magic within my own heart.  If I get into graduate school, I shall rejoice.  If not, I will find some other job, one I can be passionate about and that will let me research those compounds, those plants, those animals I care so much about.  I will study hard, gain experience, and decide--if I don't get into grad school--exactly how to tailor my next year's graduate applications to my specific interests and passions. It is passion that sets us apart, that makes us unique, that guides us to make a difference in the world.  Not just me, but everyone around me.  Everyone has something they love, something that they must follow.  It might not make them rich or famous.  Hey, it might not even take them out of their hometown.  But it is the passion--for life, for love, for happiness--that lets us grow.

Seek your passion, as I shall seek mine.

Please Contact my parents

If you see this, please contact my parents and let them know I will be leaving work at 2:30 to hopefully beat the blizzard. My phone is dead.

A Weighty Goal

I have a confession to make...I am overweight. I don't look it, but that's because I carry weight evenly. So I don't have an obvious belly, butt, puffy face, or any of that. But I know it. How much do I weigh, you ask? Well, I'm not telling you! It's not like this is my private diary or something!

But I have a goal: get to my prime weight by December 15, 2010. What's my plan, you ask? Eat better balanced meals with correct portion sizes and exercise. My exercise of choice? Running--and not just any kind of running. Barefoot running (well, almost).

My mom, my brother Jacob, and I all bought Five Finger Shoes yesterday (don't ask me why they're called Five Finger--after all, feet have toes). These are shoes that give you the experience of running barefoot without the pain of stepping on sharp rocks. Most running shoes have so much extra sole support--especially around the heel--that they cause runners to run incorrectly. That is why so many runners get running-related injuries.

I don't know how many of you run heel-toe. I know I do. You can hear me pound, pound, pounding on the pavement long before you see me. But the correct way to run is lightly on the balls of your feet--your heels shouldn't even touch the ground. If you run this way, you have less impact on your joints and tendons, and, best of all, you'll develop llegs. (If you know me, you know I am very disappointed in the appearance of my legs, and this is one of the things I hope to change by running "barefoot") I ran (well, ran, walked, ran, gasped, ran, walked, ran) for two miles yesterday, mostly focusing on changing my running style to ball-of-feet, and my legs (not llegs yet) huurrrt. Today I forced myself out of bed and ran a mile (I want to run at least a mile a day)--well, ran most of the way with short ten-second breaks every hundred feet or so. It's amazing--my legs didn't hurt while I was running, but each time I took a break they did. I know I can run; now my brain just has to believe me.

How am I coming with my goal? Well, I know I have to set mile-markers, so to speak. I started my goal last week, and I weighed myself mid-week. I was already at my weekly goal! So I weighed myself today, and wow! I've passed my weekly goal! I don't know if that's because last week was my heavy part of the month (girls have that, you know) or if my smaller portions are helping. I wasn't able to start the exercising portion until yesterday, but at this rate I'll meet my December goal--no problem!

And if I can do it, you can do it too!

September 11, 2010

photo found on blogs.villagevoice.com

It wasn't until I left my apartment and saw all the flags lining the streets that I remembered that today is September 11. It is strange to think that nine years ago our nation was attacked. I remember the morning of September 11, 2001. I was rushing to get ready for school. The television was on in my parents' bedroom, and I remember seeing a picture of the twin towers on TV. But I was in a hurry, and I continued on my way.

At school--I was in junior high--all the televisions were on. I knew then that something was wrong. In a daze, I went from class to class. I watched planes crash into the Towers. The first tower fell, then the second tower, over and over again. It was an evil cycle--over and over one building would crumble in a cloud of cement-gray smoke, soon followed by the second tower. Reports kept coming in: tens of thousands dead or missing. The actual death toll would not be known for months. I kept thinking of the nearby Hill Airforce Base--what if whoever attacked the Twin Towers attacked here?

More and more reports came in: the Pentagon was hit by a plane, and another plane fell in Pennsylvania. A strange face appeared on the television in the afternoon--a man named Osama bin Laden, who had claimed responsibility for the attacks. All of it was overwhelming--it was too much for a fourteen-year-old girl. I walked, breathed, lived in a shocked daze.

I remember in my history class the lights were off and the television was on. I watched for the hundredth time the first tower fall. One boy cried out, "Cool!" It took all my self-control to keep from lunging over my desk and pummeling that boy. Didn't he realize that thousands of innocent lives had suddenly and hideously been snuffed out?

When I got home, I met up with my oldest brother Dustin. He was in his first year of college. I remember him saying something along the lines of, "If they start the draft again, I could probably get out of it because I'm in college or because I'm going on a mission soon, but I won't. I'll go protect my country."

That frightened me. I couldn't imagine my gentle brainy brother fighting, killing, even to protect others. I didn't want it. Luckily, the draft has not been reinstated. My brother has not had to fight and kill, though others have fought and killed and died.

So, nine years later, what have we learned? Have we beat the bad guys? Have we become closer as a nation, become a more God-fearing people? For a time, it seemed we would. Now, nothing is certain. I pray that we may learn from September 11. Let us learn to be a more God-fearing people. Let us learn to reach out to one another, to care for and lift one another. Let us make sure that we keep September 11, 2001, in our hearts so that we may learn to become better people.

Wishing for Christmas

Is it pathetic that it's only the beginning of September and I wish it were Christmas? Well, I do, and I'm not ashamed.

Photo by Steve Jurveston

I love the magic of Christmas. I love the snow, and the music, and the feeling of stillness that comes with Christmas. All of it can be drowned out if we get too frantic in our lives, too worried about the shopping or the decorating or holiday traffic. But if we take a moment, the stillness, the peace of Christmas can penetrate our hearts. We reach out to others more during Christmas at any other time of the year, spreading goodwill and well-wishes. We draw closer to our families at Christmas time. I love that. I love how close my family is at Christmas (and we're pretty close anyway).

Have you ever gone outside on a winter's night when a light snow is falling and soft white snow already covers the ground? Have you ever stood under a streetlight and looked up to see the white flakes swirling towards the ground. Have you ever listened to the utter stillness of the world when this happens? This winter, try it. Get out your earmuffs and your mittens, bundle up, and step out into that world of white and black. Let yourself go still. Feel the cold nipping at your cheeks. Just listen to the world. There is a magic in it that I cannot put into words.

Photo by Kenneth Libbrecht

So, I guess I'm feeling a little homesick for Christmas. Don't be afraid to admit it's happened to you too--wishing for Christmas at the wrong time of year. Or you can just think I'm crazy. It doesn't matter if you do.

Life Continues

It's been a long time since my last blog. I've got a new goal to try to blog once a week--let's see how I do.

During this month, I've planted a garden, taught school, written more of my book, and watched my brother's kittens grow and become more than just balls of fluff that eat and sleep. I've been down on myself a lot this month--I'm not making a difference in people's lives, I'm not dazzlingly beautiful, I'm not dating anybody, I have to commute more than an hour to work, I can't run more than half a mile before I have to stop. But I don't like being a complaining person.

So I'm going to change.

So what that I can't run that far? I want to run in a 5k. I'm going to run as far as I can every day and walk the rest of those three-point-something miles. Eventually, I'll get to 5 kilometers running. So what that I'm not dating anybody--that's partially a hazard of my job--not many single guys in Elementary Education--but I can socialize with members of my church and get to know them better. So what that I'm not a supermodel? I can take care of my body and be more beautiful than I think I am. So what that I have to commute to work? I'm going to apply for jobs closer to home--as soon as I get those stinkin' letters of recommendation--and, hopefully, I'll get a job. If not, I should be happy that I have a job in a good school.

And do I really not make a difference in people's lives? Maybe it's because I can't see that difference that I feel that way. But I can also serve others more frequently, care for them, be there for them.

So here's my thoughts: life continues whether you want it or not. You can complain about it, or you can live it. I want to live it.