Urban Walker

Of late I've noticed the widespread usage of the word "Urban." It is seemingly the "in" thing so I thought I would capitalize upon this little five lettered friend before it goes out of style.

I consider myself something of an urban walker. I don't necessarily walk to many destinations but I walk a lot. At work I walk around five to seven miles, around and around and around the restaurant, back and forth, up and down. Hey it's urban and I'm walking. Restaurant walking can be quite entertaining... As a server you just never know who you are going to walk up to and where they are at in their story. Perhaps they are celebrating an anniversary, a return from war, or a promotion. Perhaps they are having an affair (sadly and truly). Perhaps they are making out in one of the little corner boths every single time you come to the table. This style of walking is good practice for counseling I think, and developing what my professors call "containing" or "holding." Meaning keeping a lot of tension, ambiguity, and emotion inside (kind of) on behalf of the other person and yourself. Restaurant walking also strengthens my back and arms as I cary loads upon loads of cheese and meat and chocolate. It's almost a full body workout.

I walk dogs in various locations in Tacoma with no particular destination in mind, only with the purpose of moving around. For the most part I love these walks. Particularly at night in the summer. Tonight after I finished my urban restaurant walking I went straight to dog walking. Warm summer nights such as these are beautiful. My pace slows down and I notice life around me, perspective changes. I love the quiet calmness of sleepy houses. I love the warm lights I don't see during the day, the landscaping illuminated from the ground up rather from the sun. The night smells different, behaves different. Tonight the wind picked up and as I walked under the stoic old pines of North tacoma I felt their presence and that of the lazy air. Cooky looking cats always run around in the shadows. My mind spends time dreaming.

All this to say. I like to walk and I walk a lot. And I hope you get to walk a lot too and really SEE all that surrounds you.

Summer

I like the smell of summer. I can tell it’s here when the heat conjures the musty molecules too heavy to rise in the cold winter months. Those molecules that lie dormant in my carpet and closets and basements and garages. Plants and trees also tell me summer arrived as I walk past their blossoms and do a double take with my nose…Really, that tree smells that good? Whoa. The lilacs are just beginning to bloom as well. This means my walks around the neighborhood will be interrupted by quick stops to breath in their fleeting fragrances. The cherry trees announced the arrival of spring a while ago with their crazy pink blooms. Now they mock winter’s snows by dropping their petals like a mid-December dusting. Except it’s pink. My neighbors even use their leaf blowers to clean up what I would dub a “party favor” for spring’s arrival. My next favorite tree is what I call the “wedding tree.” I don’t know the proper name, but they are short trees trimmed so that their long branches full of white or pink blossoms fall to the ground. They look like they should line a bride’s wedding isle. Their flowers are nature’s way of welcoming the wedding season I think.
Looking forward to roses, drinking beer on my back porch, and warm summer nights,
With Love,
Alison

What type of Journal are you? Life without suffixes

While waiting downtown Seattle to catch the bus, my fellow classmate and I discussed our most recent journal writing assignment. It just so happened that a gentleman passing by eavesdropped into our conversation thinking we were talking about journalism. The ensuing conversation was hilarious and poignant.

Friend and I Talking...
blah blah blah...Did you finish your journal?

Man on Street (hopped up on something, dazed by something else): Hey so are you like a journal? I mean what kind of journal are you?

Me: Well, um, what do you mean?

Man on Street: What kind of journal are you?
(meaning what kind of journalist are you?)

Me: I write but I'm not a journalist. I just write for school and for fun.

Man on Street: Oh well, like, I'm taking a journal class at North Seattle College. Man, you're probably way ahead of me.

Me: Well, I don't know about that...

Man on Street: You know...just remember, just remember (pointing to his heart and smiling without his front teeth) it has to come from here. Not here (his head).

Me: Okay, thanks. Have a good day...

Man on Street: Yeah man. I'm Don. (utters some sort of blessing)

Me: Nice to meet you Don, I'm Alison.

Life without suffixes is entertaining. Obviously this man had a whole lot of issues but I was blessed by his passionate engagement and bright smile. Life is surprising. What type of journal am I? What type of journal are you? This guy was on to something, we truly are journals. We are each full of stories waiting to be read, stories that are hiding, and stories still being written. Most importantly, we are part of a much bigger journal whose main theme is redemption. It's called the bible. Woohooo. by the way my b key is broken so I have to cut and paste that letter everytime so the word bible is not capitalized. I am sorry!

A Spring Trek to the Washington Coast

Enjoy a little bit of our hike with the dogs. My friend Cassie and I were the only one's on the trail (for good reason if you play the video.) I loved it because it reminded me of portaging in the boundary waters bugs and all. It was "hatching" season for hoards of water bugs and mosquitoes. Our feet were cold but the view was well worth it and we were the only people on the beach. We even jumped in the pacific and submerged ourself completely...twice! It was cold. The dogs had a blast and were soooo worn out by the end of the day, we were too. This little getaway was only a 24-hour time frame although it felt like a couple day vacation. We made a campfire the night before, slept outside, ate amazing donuts for breakfast, then hiked a lot, got a little lost, got muddy, laid in the sun, ran on the sand, and watch spike and jag frolic. A good day if you ask me, despite lacking the "10" essentials including lunch and a map (not suggested!). And I got to wear my awesome hat :)

My Family Vacation

Yes, you may laugh loudly. Please do.
Don't worry, the weapons and money are fake.
Left to Right: Mom, Me, Tom, Grandma.

Under the Fries

While eating lunch at this little cafe in Sedona, AZ my Grandma ordered "a salad." This is the plate that she got...Here is the dialog that ensued:

"Where is the salad?" we asked.

"IT'S UNDER THE FRIES!" said the server.

"oh." We laughed.

Iceberg lettuce under fries and a burger. So classic (unfortunately).

a short trip.

I will be in the land of cacti and desert in approximately 25 hours if all goes as planned. I am in anticipation of sun!
In the meantime I will be cranking out 3 more glorious pages...that is if I can stop procrastinating. At this point, I may just as well go to bed. At least I get a solid "A" for procrastination.

Augustine on Reality T.V.

I think Augustine would still say this about America's obsession with reality T.V. and T.V. in general. This is an excerpt from book three of his Confessions

"I was captivated by theatrical shows. They were full of representations of my own miseries and fuelled my fire. Why is it that a person should wish to experience suffering by watching grievous and tragic events which he himself would not wish to endure? Nevertheless he wants to suffer the pain given by being a spectator of these sufferings, and the pain itself is his pleasure. What is this but amazing folly? For the more anyone is moved by these scenes, the less free he is from similar passions. Only, when he himself suffers, it is called misery; when he feels compassion for others, it is called mercy. But what quality of mercy is it in fictitious and theatrical inventions? A member of the audience is not excited to offer help, but invited only to grieve. The greater his pain, the greater his approval of the actor in these representations. if the human calamities, whether in ancient histories or fictitious myths, are so presented that the theatregoer is not caused pain, he walks out of the theatre disgusted and highly critical. But if he feels pain, he stays riveted in his seat enjoying himself."

On the other hand, yes, TV is the "Great Dissociator" and sometimes I crave it.

The Suffering Community

"Friends lets drink 'til our hearts break open
and our hands feel empty though they're full all the time.
It's so nice in here, I'm so glad you're here
can we just stay here all the time walk me home
we'll watch the sun come up
Don't leave me alone, cause I've been left enough..."

This insightful little lyric has brought me much contemplation over the last few days. To Chris Thile and the intrepid band of Punch Brothers I am grateful and awed. If I had a musical ability to respond with a thanks as beautiful as their music I would. But I don't and a simple word of thanks seems futile. I offer is blessings in their journey of suffering and joy. I will drink with you anytime ☺ Those who suffer much have the capacity for much joy, seemingly paradoxical yes, (true?) you decide.

Onto what I really mean to share...

Set to an elegantly solemn tender tune, the lyrics capture an aching for the invitation to suffer with friends. And not just suffer violently by getting trashed together and dissociating from the world (although is called for at times), but moving together to engage a sorrow so deep one cannot and should not bear it alone. As I listen my head conjures images of rest, vulnerability, and love. My hands are always full, I don’t easily allow myself time or space to suffer, I am afraid of asking you to be with me in my suffering. But if you will, how beautiful it will be! You don’t need to say anything, just be present and as we lift our glasses to our own depravity watch the doves of sadness fly away. By dawn the whiskey will be gone and our cups filled with tears. In the morning we’ll leave the gaze of sorrow gone by and empty hands, and turn our eyes to the sunrise. Don’t talk please, rest with me. This has been a tender and sacred time. Yes please, “thank you Jesus can I have another and another oh thank you Lord?” I’m not implying I know this time or space yet, moments yes, totality no.

Breaking closed hearts corporately. I commend those who have the capacity for the intimacy and vulnerability required to actually live out these lyrics and more precisely the contrast of feelings highlighted by the notes. I am thankful to imagine and hope for what transforming healing is possible with others. But really that’s what I’m all about trying to be.

Here’s to hope, longing, love, sorrow, gratitude, joy, desire, rest, delight, with the last word being redemption. May I celebrate with you and if time or space does not permit may you find others to celebrate with on this crazy unpredictable journey of heartbreak and hope.

And that I will drink to. Cheers.

Spike's New Thing

After seeing my friend's dog Koosah do something like this, it didn't take Spike long to catch on.

A million other things

I have been trying to start writing one of many papers for school and end up thinking of almost anything else to do instead. Right now there is about a million other things I'd rather be doing than sitting in front of my computer writing a paper! AGHHHHHH.

Watching Cars and Seattle Style

I am up in Seattle three days a week for school. The routine (starting in Tacoma) generally goes as follows:
Spike runs on and off my bed, does it again, barks. Wake up. Feed dog. Make Coffee. Eat breakfast. If time permits crawl back in bed with coffee, my computer, and spike. Snuggle. Look at clock and realize I must move quickly. Pack up my life in a bag, throw meal together, head to bus stop. Get anxious about finding a parking spot. Make it on bus. Read. Get off bus. Watch cars and people as I walk downtown. School. Watch cars as I wait for the bus. I enjoy watching cars.

I don't know what it is about cars, but I find myself curious about all the cars that pass me downtown and the lives of people inside. Many of the cars that I see are luxury models with business suit dressed people inside. I think it is interesting the difference between the cars I see pass the Tacoma Dome station and the cars I see pass the Seattle bus stop on 2nd avenue. Tacoma is known to be "gritty" and if the cars are representative of this adjective it's true. A lot of dirty trucks, beat up cars, and used SUV's pass by me in Tacoma. In Seattle, especially if I wait in the afternoon or evening it seems that every car is newer, clean, and luxury. I just wonder about why people choose to purchase those cars, if they are happy in their luxury, what their cars mean to them, how often they get a new one. I admit, I like nice cars, the design, speed, technology. I also like gritty ones like mine. As the waves of expensive cars pass by me I consider the millions of dollars I watch every day. It is pretty amazing. I guess I want to know the story behind the cars, but it is fun to have them remain fleeting mysteries. I sometimes try to imagine myself driving in the drivers seat, where would I be coming from? Where would I be going? Would I have a family? Would I eat in expensive restaurants? Would I wear stylish clothes? It's a fun game to pass the waiting. Right across from the bus stop is a valet parking stand for a spendy restaurant. That operation gives me lots of fodder.

I also feel like somewhat of an outsider walking downtown Seattle because everyone seems so stylish. Black boots, black coats, black pants, ipods, eclectic/artsy outfits...I wonder what is behind the big sunglasses. I wonder if people see me as a tourist. You can generally tell who the tourists are. People up in Seattle are stylish. Perhaps I should take some lessons from them! That would be a lot of work though. It'd be interesting to observe different neighborhoods as all of my observations are downtown in the shadows of skyscrapers. I like Seattle.

Look.

I am deeply saddened by the violence ripping through Kenya. The terror waits quietly on my doorstep in black and white. I am comfortably removed from the violence. I have never been to Africa, but many people I know have invested significant time in the country and I wonder how their relationships and places have been affected. Since I started reading the paper most mornings I am confronted by more injustice, fear, and sadness than I know what to do with. It is strange to be a distant observer. I am pulled to act but frozen in knowing how or where to start. It seems that all I can do right now is say "look!" and stumble through prayers of hope and grief.

My body slows as I sit down in a melancholoy awe of the destruction or lives, people, souls, relationships, and hope.

How can I be an agent of justice? Will I? Where am I called? Right now it is here, but I can feel the stirrings of change.

If I were a monk I believe I would like to be a monk of New Skete. Dogs and Men, a good combination...HA

27 dresses and the single life

A couple of my girlfriends and I (yeah you know who you are...HOLLA) just watched the newly released "27 Dresses." I must admit I am quite the hopeless romantic when it comes to this genre. Despite the handbook-like unfolding of predictable plotlines, I still melt in the end when the boy and girl melt in each others gaze, or embrace, or whatever verb you'd like to insert at this point in the film. Pretend you're back in first grade with madlibs. Those were fun eh?

With this movie and my marriage & family class as a backdrop, I somehow felt compelled to do a quick search on the books out there dedicated to the plight of the "singles." I, being one of them. There are so many books out there about marriage, I figured there had to be some good ones, or at least entertaining ones, about my situation. Here is a sampling of the titles I found.

To all the singles out there...these are for you and me :)
"Why you're still single, things your friends would tell you if you promised not to get mad"
A; okay friends, start talking...I won't get mad, well maybe not.

"Being sinlge is not a disease..."
A: THANK GOD! I was REALLY worried there for awhile. There has go to be some prescription pill out there somewhere though.

"Single: the art of being satisfied, fulfilled, and independent"
A: I guess I'm okay with being an artist. Really I think you could replace single with married though and the book would still work.

"The last year of being single"
A: Yeah, because you are so old the next year you will be dead. Okay that may be a bit over the top.

"Better single than sorry"
A: or...better married than alone

"The Christian Single Woman's Guide to Being a Player God's Way: A Practical Humorous Guide To Christian Dating"
A: 'A Player God's Way?' I wonder what God thinks about that...

"111 Ways to survive being single"
A: Now singles need a survival manual. Wow I didn't know how dangerous my life is.

"Being single on Noahs Ark"
A: Hmmmm.

and finally

"It's okay to be single"
A: phew.

You must admit there are some pretty funny titles out there. Happy Reading.

It's been while...

I had pretty much given up on this whole "blogging" thing since I moved back to Tacoma. Perhaps I hadn't reached the giving up stage yet, but the wishy washy stage. I started the blog to stay in touch with people as I embarked on my dogsledding adventure and now, well I have lost motivation or perhaps the extra time to share my extraneous thoughts.

But tonight I guess I'm back. I was actually perusing various blog names I could use for a "dog blog" on the "soon to be coming website!" for spike and i. Really it should be up soon. Just some FTP work and vwal-AH. I looked at my last entry and decided it was time to give everyone who actually reads this a little bit of an update.

LIFE IS GOOD.
But IT RAINS here A bit TOo MucH

I have three great dogs at my house right now, all of them are crashed out on the floor from playing hard at the dog park then running with Cassie and I. All except Jag-who incessently feels the need to be right next to any human companion, breathing heavily while begging for pets. He is a devilishly handsome and charming lad so we all oblige. Thankfully my roomates graciously oblige as well, even more than me. My roomate is playing guitar in the background and the other one is cooking so as I write this I feel "nested" with the dogs, wafting smells, and background guitar. I also happen to be fond of using quotes tonight.

I am now back in school and taking a full load of credits. I also am not working much (at this point at all). This set-up is very pleasing to me as the perpetual background noise in my mind has quieted and I feel less crazy. This begs the question of, feeling vs being. Such feelings could be due to the fact that I've only had two classes. I like to live in the moment...

GRATITUDE is also a sentiment I have been feeling lately. It is easy to get disheartened by the gross injustice, tragedy, and *&@# that happens. (Side note-one of my favorite passtimes lately=waking up to coffee and the NYTimes at our doorstep, thanks to my housemate) In the middle of everything I still feel the glimmering of gratitude and hope, and hope for gratitude. I've felt compelled to rest, to slow down and be. And man is it good.

I agree there are plenty of life seasons out there and this is the season for now.

These are some of the topics I've pondered lately:
Composting (yeah really)
building websites
teaching a dog to come when called at a dog park-"SPIKE!"
learning to fiddle
warm places with seaturtles and waves
e-waste that gets dumped in developing countries for children to disassemble into metal and toxic fumes
good friends
eating a variety of vegetables with names that are new to me

...sidetracked

I went dogsledding in bend and then to hawaii. Both can be summed up in one word=AMAZING!

I encourage you to read, create, be, laugh, sorrow, move, and celebrate. Do the things that must be done.

Until next time,
alison

Spike and I

It's official. I am starting a dog walking/running business in Tacoma! I should have everything ready to go pretty soon. Just in time to enjoy the pacific northwest torrential rains.

www.spikeandi.com

coming soon...

∆

It's here. It happens. We grow. We learn.

My Theology Class

I have never taken a theology class before and find myself surprised by my lack of thought in this area. I thought that I had been thinking about this, but to my surprise I never REALLY considered the evolution of say "the trinity." In the context of the brillant minds I feel surrounded by I find this quite embarrassing! For years I have been spoonfed ideas, constructs, traditions, and words with little curiousity as to the history behind them. I was not the type of person to spend hours wondering or being curious about philosophy. I was curious about different things. I am grateful for the chance to be curious about theology, to have conversations, and listen to the experience of others. Not that I haven't had this before, it is just different with an academic study to speed the process. In reading my texts for my theology class I find myself just saying Thank You to God. I have a strange peace about me.

And yes, you'll notice the word is spelled incorrectly in the blog heading. It is with purpose. Go back and read one of the first entries. You'll see why.

The Next Season

You could quite easily be thinking I am referring to the impending change in chlorophyll, cooler nights, and looming gray skies. But, I'm not. Quite simply I am talking about my recent purchase of Season number 3, of dum duh dah...Grey's Anatomy. Yes, the engaging drama rife with professionals, who, frankly would benefit from some serious counseling. I am, however, biased.

It's these little things in life that make me smile. Like being so excited about my new vacuum cleaner that I post a picture of it on the website. This thing really makes you want to clean. Silly as it may be, I even decked it out with some stickers!

I also had to laugh at myself today for losing the cap to my laundry detergent. Of course there are other options, but instead I chose to lug the 3 gallon jug to the washer, push the button until I think I've added the right amount of soap, and then lug the soap back. To think I majored in Chemistry...definitely not analytical!

Lastly, I love watching my dog sleep. It makes me want to take a nap.

And on Tuesday I start fiddle lessons. Have to get ready for Wintergrass.