Thinking about the magic circle and the safety circle, I realized that over the course of this winter, I've been emerging from hibernation and getting ready to leave my comfort zone and find some new magic. While reflecting on this, I realized that it had been a long time since I took a photo walk around my neighborhood. These walks can be as short as just to my backyard or as long as many blocks away from home. On a sunny afternoon, I fitted my 100mm macro to my camera, popped in a fresh battery, and set out. My goal: to notice something new. It could be small or big. It could be something that has just appeared or something that has always been here.
My first discovery was that my one lonely hellebore isblooming. I adore this plant - the rose-and-cream sepals, the fibonaccian whorl of the tubular petals, the fuzzy anthers. I took a moment to gather all of the wayward garden gnomes into one spot where they could wait for spring planting. I breathed in the hybrid tea aroma of the blossoming mahonias and admired the bees on them, wondering if there would have been more bees in less climate-changey times. My four-year-old joined me and we took to the alleyway, finding seedpods and fertile mosses. I noticed cracks on the faces of cupids on a neighbor's planter. I made mental note of milkweed that needs to be removed from our fig tree and admired its curling dried vines.
None of this was earth-shaking, but it was refreshing. Sunlight, cool air (but not too cool - this is, after all, Virginia, and our winters are mild), nature, companionship, and the comfort of dials and the shutter.
Perhaps what I noticed most of all was a sense of peace and wholeness. It's good to come out of hibernation.
A friend posted this image on Facebook last week, bemoaning how stuck in her comfort zone she has been lately. I identified with the drawing, and recognized myself as moving out of my comfort zone lately and into the magic sphere. These things tend to happen in cycles - hibernate, create, hibernate, create, et cetera.
But then, later, I realized that the image wasn't quite right. You don't have to leave your comfort zone to find magic! Magic can be found in everyday, normal, boring things. Enjoying a book under snuggly covers on a winter morning can be magic. Hot chocolate with marshmallows can be magic. A child's goodnight kiss can be magic. There are other, bigger magics that can also happen well within the confines of one's comfort zone.
There's also a tone to this image and the comments from those who linked and re-linked it that struck me as sad. There's a stigma attached to remaining in your comfort zone. If you're really living your life, the assumption goes, you'll force yourself outside of your happy security-blanket space and into the really real world. If you're not experiencing magic, you must not be brave enough, ambitious enough, energetic enough, zen enough, rested enough, balanced enough. If you're not experiencing magic, you must not be terribly good at this whole life thing.
That's just crazy, shame-y talk. Magic is all around us, both inside our safety zone and outside of it waiting for us to push ourselves a bit. Sometimes it's a good thing to face a challenge and discover something new, and sometimes we need to be in a place that is all about hibernation and not at all about seeking out wild, unexplored territory.
With that in mind, I recreated the graphic:
They're not separate spheres. Push yourself to move outside of your comfort zone, hole up in a safe non-magic-y space, or dwell happily in the overlap. It's up to you. There is no wrong way to do it.
We're in the middle of a giant Star Wars lovefest. Some four- and five-year-old boys seem to get really caught up in these movies/stories. The light sabers ("life savers" to most little boys) capture their attention in a time when gun/fight play and good-guys-vs-bad-guys play is at a peak, and every year at our preschool, there's a new crop of little boys who are obsessed with all things light sabery. They want to make their own sabers, they want to know everything there is to know about Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader (AKA "Darf Vader," AKA "Dark Vader"). My older two had only a very mild interest in Star Wars. We had one clone costume that was given to Griff, but it didn't really catch on...until the youngest boy approached four and he and his best friend both suddenly exploded into full-on Star Wars Mania. We finally judged the kids old enough to watch the original three movies (no prequels yet...gotta keep 'em pure). Episode IV is now in frequent rotation and Return of the Jedi is a budding favorite. For some reason we haven't seen The Empire Strikes Back yet. Gotta remedy that.
The Star Wars joy is giving me a lot to smile about lately, like:
(-o-) Hearing the music from the last scene of Episode IV and remembering how my husband insisted on playing The Throne Room for our wedding recessional, and the laughs it got out of guests when they realized what the music was.
(-o-) Coming downstairs at the end of the movie to find son #2 wearing the hand-me-down clone costume (appropriate SW-viewing attire), and then having a discussion about appropriate clone footwear.
(-o-) My friend seeing piles of clothing left on the floor by son #2, who disrobes immediately upon returning home, and calling them "dead Kenobis." Son #2 starting to call his own clothing piles dead Kenobis. Feeling tempted every time I come across a pile to pat it with my foot.
(-o-) Kids bonding with the across-the-street neighbors over light-up saber battles in the dark.
(-o-) TIE fighter emoticon!
(-o-) Determining that the correct pronunciation of AT-AT is not to say the letters A-T-A-T, but rather to say it like it rhymes with cat-cat. Sorry kids, your parents were right. Don't mess with the children of the '70s when it comes to Episode IV-VI trivia.
(-o-) Being asked to look up the two-legged Imperial walker. (FYI, it's an All-Terrain Scout Transport, or AT-ST, AKA "chicken walker")
(-o-) SW meets Facebook (top, thanks to Ann) and inspirational parody (bottom, thanks to Andrew)
(-o-) How totally STOKED the kids were to see the Rebel Legion and the 501st Legion in the Christmas Parade.
(-o-) Being reminded of the Cello Wars video and getting to enjoy it all over again.
(-o-) Reese's infatuation with the Binary Sunset music (when Luke looks out over the dunes and muses on how lousy it is that Biggs and Tank are fighting for the Rebellion against the Empire while he's stuck at home on the moisture farm).
(-o-) Finding light sabers all over the house. Homemade, store-bought, or stick.
(-o-) Discussing the Force with two four-year-olds. Is it in everybody or only in certain people? Can you lose the Force? (My answers: It's an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us and penetrates us. And no, you cannot lose it. The Force will be with you, always.)
(-o-) Dan pointing out that it's tricky to know how to discuss the Force with other people's kids when you don't know what their families believe or the age at which they think it's appropriate to talk about it.
(-o-) Same two four-year-olds pretending to be starfighter pilots in a two-steering-wheeled car-shaped shopping cart: "Echo three to Echo seven!"
(-o-) Doing the breakfast dishes with Weird Al's Star-Wars-ified version of The Day the Music Died playing in my head. Looking it up later and realizing that the piano played by the Darth Sidious look-alike has been decorated with a Death Star texture/color scheme.
(-o-) Kid speech/understanding errors: "The Vampire Strikes Back."
(-o-) Remembering seeing Episode V in the theater in 1980, Jedi in 1983, and playing Storm Troopers and Ewoks in my childhood back yard.
Late entry - as I linked this to Facebook, I noticed that my friend Cara had just posted this awesome image:
May the Force be with you, y'all. Always.
Apparently it's time again for the "bra color" meme to make the rounds of Facebook. This chain-mail style game spreads through private messages among groups of ladyfriends. The idea is to post your bra color as your status, but sshhhhhhhh, don't tell the boys. Won't it be funny to keep them in the dark? Isn't it awesome to raise awareness of breast cancer?
Wait, what? How does posting your bra color (or fruit, or where you put your purse, or whatever) raise awareness of a disease? And even if it did raise awareness (what does that mean exactly? it's the ultimate in slactivism), how does that awareness translate into reduced risk or improved patient outcomes?
It doesn't.
Titillation doesn't equal awareness. Even if it did, why would we want to keep men in the dark? Men need to know about breast cancer, too - their wives, girlfriends, mothers, daughters, sisters, friends might contract this disease. They might develop this disease. Which means their husbands, boyfriends, sons, fathers, brothers might get it. (Yes, men can get breast cancer, too.) Their teachers might. Their coworkers. Their employees. Their bosses. Men need to know about breast cancer just as much as women do. Nobody benefits from this tee-hee-hee slumber-party approach to "raising awareness". Posting where you "like it" (your purse...get your mind out of the gutter!) doesn't find lumps. Alluding to your lacy black balconette doesn't fund research. Giggling in the girls' room doesn't comfort the women and men experiencing a very real, very unfunny, life-altering, often disfiguring, and potentially fatal illness.
What's more, the chances are that a woman or man on your Facebook friend's list is currently going through or has personal experience with breast cancer, whether it be a friend or family member who has had the disease, her own disease experience, or a scare related to an irregular mammogram. You can bet that these people don't feel terribly supported by a flurry of underwear colors around them. Their biopsies were probably not nearly as hilarious as trying to lead clueless men to think "I like it in the foyer" means something other than where you stash your wallet and keys.
Please take a few moments to read over one of the many excellent feminist articles that has been written about this meme. Here are just a few:
Instead of trying to mystify the boys and sexualize a serious illness, how about posting some actual facts about cancer, or reminding friends to check themselves? Donate to a charity, volunteer for an organization that provides support to people who have breast cancer, write an article about how breast cancer has impacted your family or friends...the opportunities to truly do something toward minimizing risk and bringing healing are endless. Heck, if you just call people on their "raising awareness" bra meme bullshit, you're doing something.
If you want to play a silly game, go for it. But please, please don't claim that it's in the name of "raising awareness". My grandmother died of breast cancer in 1967. My mother was 16 years old. I won't trivialize what they and other women and men have experienced by making it into , and I hope you won't, either.
Ye olde rainbow-felt banner image had been getting me down for a while. It was just kindof blah, a remnant of a time before I had really worked hard on my photo knowledge/skills, before I made friends with Photoshop and LIghtroom. Today I tossed out that old scraggly felt and found something a little more sparkly in my archives. I also revamped the side menus and made the entire content area wider. I'm still not CSS-savvy, but I'm much happier.
The new banner image is the morning sun reflecting off of raindrops on a mimosa in our alley. It was a close race between that one and this pink-and-pretty image.
I do love the ladybug (you know me and my bugs). It was just a touch too pink, not sparkly enough, and I identify with green, so the mimosa won.
Let me know what you think, or if you have ideas that could make it better!
One of the things you don't think about, regarding outreach medicine, until you're in it: there's a lot of mindless scut work. Once the DASV/SOMOS team arrives in Santo Domingo, the most pressing task is to unpack, count, and package the thousands of pills that we bring with us. This year the meds from the US only included vitamins (adult and child) and antihistamines. Everything else had been ordered in-country in blister packs, tubes, or ready-to-reconsistute bottles. For hours, the main sounds in DASV HQ are the scratch of pill-counting spatulas, the clicking of pills against each other as they rush from the chute, the rustle of filled ziplocks piling up and being stashed in bigger plastic bags. The hush is occasionally broken by a burst of hilarity or editorial comments on the flavor and texture of pediatric vitamins. The pace builds as everyone gets into the grove, then slows as boredom sets in, then builds again as we open the final bottles; will we finish on time to celebrate the new year?
(Compared to last year's HQ - a normal room crammed full with a queen-sized bed, a cot, and three students' duffels - this year's room was posh. Dr. Mark's single turned out to be a bridal suite, with two love seats, a coffee table, and all the floor space we could wish for. This also meant that Mark's sweet bed-in-an-alcove remained relatively unmolested by sweaty, dirty crewmates perching on it during meetings.)
Mark is often heard to remark on how everybody helps out on these trips. Past president of William and Mary Gene Nichol even found himself wearing scrubs and working in the pharmacy on previous years' trips. I've never heard anybody balk or complain. There is no "your job" and "my job." There is just the work in front of us, and many hands available to do it.
The work done, it's time to head to the Plaza for rum and coke, purchased from a colmado along the way. Tomorrow morning will come soon, along with more work. We will face it together.
Back home and getting my head around all there is to say about the community in Esfuerzo and this year's SOMOS/DASV efforts. Right now, I'm catching up on sleep and snuggles (both were in short supply for me in the DR) and appreciating many things about my normal life, as well as many things about the 1/52nd of a year I spend outside of my normal life.
:: I'm grateful for fresh, clean vegetables. I'm grateful that even if I don't wash my grocery-store veggies, it's unlikely that I'll catch a bacterial or parasitic illness. I'm grateful for the luxury of worrying about pesticides and BPA.
:: I'm grateful that my trash is taken away from my house weekly by a big truck, and that I don't have to think about it at all. I'm grateful that my government maintains our community's infrastructure (roads, sanitation systems) well enough to keep this running smoothly.
:: I'm grateful for cool, sweet, healthy water that I can drink straight from the tap. I'm grateful for toilets that flush reliably.
:: I'm grateful that my period decided to wait until 40 minutes after I returned home to start, so that I didn't have to deal with it without reliably flushing toilets and clean water for washing hands. (I know this is TMI to some people, but y'all will have to get over it. Women menstruate and management of menstrual flow is a very real issue for women in developing countries.)
:: I'm grateful for relatively unpolluted air, and for emissions standards that prevent unlimited diesel exhaust from clogging the airways of the people in my country. I'm grateful for albuterol and antihistamines.
:: I'm grateful for the hospitality of strangers and the exuberance of children.
:: I'm grateful for being shown some of the universal things in life.
:: I'm grateful for a sense of adventure and the human mind's ability to soak in new languages and new customs.
:: I'm grateful for pharmacies that always have antibiotics, anxiolytics, cold remedies, blood pressure medication, and so many other things in stock. I'm grateful that all I have to do is go to the store, and I can be certain I can get what I need, when I need it. I'm grateful that these things are in such ready supply that I can keep stock in my home so that it's ready at a moment's notice.
:: I'm grateful for techology that fosters and supports connections between people via GPS, telecommunication, digital imagery, and so much more.
:: I'm grateful for the ability to document life via photography, and for the many ways in which my ability enables me to connect with people.
:: I'm grateful for a community of friends, both new and old, who find great fulfillment in digging deep into weighty topics, and who can also be completely silly.
All these things and more are in my heart and mind today. Thank you, my friends here in the States, and also to those of you in Paraíso. I am grateful for you.
Danielle, Matt, Jim, and Alix, about to head out for house calls in Esfuerzo
The week is drawing to a close and yet I'm just now finding time to say a few words about it on our last day, and that's only because I stayed at the hotel today rather than going out in the field again.
This year’s team in Paraiso is the largest yet, including 26 people. These can be described as falling under the auspices of either William and Mary’s Student Organization for Medical Outreach and Support (SOMOS) or the Dominican Aid Society of Virginia (DASV)
The DASV team staffs the clinic and makes house calls in Esfuerzo. This year’s team members include:
Dr. Mark Ryan, Richmond family medicine physician and VCU clinical faculty member
Dr. Elisa Silverstein, Kansas city emergency room physician and mother to SOMOS student Rebecca
Dr. Tamara Rodriguez, Dominican-trained physician and current graduate student at W&M
Dr. Matt Harrington, Philadelphia-based internal medicine resident and SOMOS founder / former leader
Dr. Alix Pandolfino, VCU pharmacy resident
Kristen Agura, Physician’s Assistant based in Dallas, TX and former SOMOS member
4th year medical students Jim Donecker (Thomas Jefferson U), Treván Rankin (VCU), and Bethany Morehouse (VCU); Jim is also a former SOMOS leader
VCU pharmacy students Danielle Navalta (3rd year), Palak Patel (3rd year), and Nellie Jafari(1st year)
SOMOS members participate in research and planning within the community to support public health initiatives. In addition to this, students also staff the clinic’s registration desk, serve as translators for clinicians, and help to fill prescriptions.
Dr. David Aday, faculty advisor
Carrie Dolan, MPH, W&M researcher
SOMOS co-leaders Kevin Salinas and Taylor Hurst
SOMOS students August Anderson, Kaveh Sedeghian, Amalhyn Shek, Joanna Weeks, Lindsay Schleifer, Rebecca Silverstein, Mel Alim, Melanie Rogers, and Jeff Rhode
We are also supported this year by David, the nephew of Dr. Rodriguez, who has been serving as a translator in the pharmacy.
This year’s SOMOS team is focusing on conducting a series of sub-community meetings in which they are presenting the results of their community research regarding the most pressing concerns for the community. They are also proposing several projects; community members vote at each meeting and the project with the most community support will be selected, and SOMOS efforts during the coming 5 years will focus on this project. My main focus this week has been the documentation of their work, as they are at a pivotal moment in their history. I will wait until after the end of the trip to share my thoughts about the direction their work is taking and the results of their week of meetings with community members.
