In my DNA

So....I am writing an essay for my International Studies class about Italian culture. Looking through my collection of books, on-line periodicals, and such I had another one of my epiphanies. Since I have yet to stand on the soil of my ancestors all that I really have to go by is the imprint of Italy in my DNA...and the things my grandmother taught me before she died. I use to wonder if my family was just unique and weird...all the little mannerisms and rituals I thought of as superstitious. What I now can only begin to comprehend is that my Nana brought the old world to America with her...instilled it in her eight surviving children...and passed it on to me. I think one of the true misfortunes of being born in this country as a second generation American is that we...I....have lost so much of the knowledge of the old world. I have friends older than me who's grandparents are still alive. I envy them and wish I would have been more aware as a child of how precious time really is. I would ask my Nana  many questions if she were alive today. I never had the honor of meeting my Papa either. But what I do know is that heritage is not about patriotism. It is about cultural roots that help to explain who we are on an ethereal level. One of the many things I wish to do while I am in Italy is to find out more about my family roots. I have relations there that I have never met..I keep dreaming about climbing large trees and I think it has something to do with my lineage...finding my relations and discovering something more about myself. I already have the sense that although I will inevitably experience culture shock...I do believe I will feel a sense of belonging like I never have before.

The minutes seem like hours when faced with finals this week. Though I try to maintain some sort of equilibrium through it all....I am always on my knees begging for mercy. With everything on my plate right now...hoping that those that rely on me will be watched over and protected while I am so far from home...I tend to want to pull out my superhero card and make the many sacrifices even I don't notice I succeed in on the day to day level bare some weight at this moment. Being tested for my intelligence level during finals makes me want to scream at times. Possibly this is the main reason I put off finishing my degree for so long. What I have been faced with is this untold concept of a woman's duty...as mother, as wife, as friend. A book I read a long time ago titled Slaying the Mermaid...Women and the Culture of Sacrifice...brought up some issues for me when I used it as a reference in an essay I wrote recently. Author Stephanie Golden states, “Women’s propensity for excessive self-sacrifice is so well known it’s a cliché, a staple of magazine articles and self-help books. We’re so used to it that we take for granted much behavior which, viewed from a normal perspective (that is, try to imagine a man doing it), appears morbid.”

This is an issue that I have been struggling with greatly in the middle of the night...leaving my family to embark on a quest I put on hold when I became aware that I was one of those statistics of becoming a teenage mother. As stated before...I am so far from perfect...but despite the trials and tribulations I have experienced...the glue that has held together my desire to live a good life has always been my children. And then...I was also blessed with three "step-children" who have always felt like my flesh and blood. I have to say the one drawback with being a "step-mom" is that you aren't gifted the opportunity to prove yourself worthy of that connection. There is always that label above you...and mostly- at least in our era...that role is not considered significant enough to allow you the opportunity to just be. So I fret...I worry...I continually doubt myself. Yet the promise of becoming a better person through all of it makes this quest a mandatory element to not just my own self-growth...but to truly allow the inspiration that I will feel to positively enhance the people I hold most dear. I hope they remember that when they are frustrated with my absence. I hope that they too will grow from this and that I come back a better human being than I ever thought was possible. Connecting with one's cultural roots is an essential part of understanding our full potential. This prayer I carry in my heart tonight...and hope that everyone finds their personal strength to make their own dreams a reality.
P
 

The next stage....

Back from the river...the orientation...and then the river again. As each day passes, the concept of me stepping outside of my bubble becomes more apparent. Good times with the family on the river this weekend made me realize once again how lucky I actually am. I also drove up to the capital of Oregon....Salem...for an orientation to this Italia program yesterday. It made this experience even more real....talking to others just as unsure as myself. The skin is shedding, no matter how unwilling I am at times to let it go.The sound of the river flowing reminded me that life is about change...growth... transformation...and authenticity. I am one lucky woman to have so many people to support this molting I am experiencing....this molting that will make me someone different to my loved ones when I return. This is my epiphany for the weekend. I am ready now for this change....finally!

Rogue River...or bust!

On our way out to my favorite river in all of the world with some of my most favorite people.Blogs...and all that will not be a part of my unwinding. How we all manage to make it through the grind of our lives is beyond me. I have two more weeks left of this term and promised myself today that I would never go to school during the summer again. Too much glory in the woods and rivers happening for me to sink my head in a book. I hope you all have a fantastic weekend. Wherever you are...may you find some connection to the life force around you.

There's No Place Like Home!

     The mundane of my existence-that which usually goes unnoticed on a day to day level-is beginning to wear me down. Even simple chores like doing dishes, or getting the laundry done- seems so benign compared to the larger essence of life. It's not that I don't care about today....I am just living in a different realm. The kids are all gone, and Eric is not home-so I am distracting myself on this blog, while I have the hardest essay I have ever possibly written left undone on my computer. I just read Zora Neale Hurston's book, Their Eyes Were Watching God, and I am suppose to write at least a six page analysis for a literature class I am taking. What is holding me back is that I have one of the most brilliant professors I have yet to meet as my instructor (his literary analysis is very much akin to my own) and to top that off he did his dissertation on this novel. I am a perfectionist...this I know. But this brilliant novel is so aligned with so many aspects of my life that I find myself in at the moment....that my essay is becoming extremely personal instead of professional. Hence....I just keep deleting. I am sure many writers find themselves feeling insecure while reading the literary geniuses out there. But I do feel distracted by my own thoughts at the moment, and figure I can contribute to my side "homework" while in this state. I continually strive to understand the deeper meaning of words. This blog to me represents a sort of freedom about caring (or not) about proper grammar, punctuations, and works sited. I can express myself without the concern of all of this...so no criticism if I misspell...it may be intentional! After school on Thursday I am going to camp on my favorite river...the Rogue. My husband's family comes down every year to gather and connect with one another. Before dawn on Saturday, I am driving up to meet the other students who will be in this program with me in Salem. One of my fears I suppose with having to live in a dorm like setting is that I NEED my space from humans. This is part of the reason I live in this dinky ass little town. Hopefully I will get a room mate that spends a lot of time on the town. So...back to my essay I suppose. I am required to write on this blog once a day, but until I finish this term.... I can't see how that is possible. One great thing about this evening is the thunder is rolling over my head...and I realize how small I actually am. I love this valley and will miss the incredible expression that mother earth shows to me everyday I am alive here. To quote my daughters when they are making fun of me...."Bring it on Mama!" Sweet dreams my peeps!

Five weeks, four days, nineteen hours, five minutes

Time is an illusion. This I know. In less than six weeks I will embark on the biggest journey of my life. Living in the Rogue Valley these last twenty years has both grounded me, yet stifled my growth. I am ready for something bigger- something beyond my comfort zone- something that will stretch me in a way this valley no longer can. I have my fears- I have many doubts. What I do realize is there is no other moment but now to embrace this life that I have been given. I received a scholarship which paid for the majority of my expenses. And though I question god at times (no offense if you are really there)....what I have realized over these last few weeks is that something beyond my understanding- bigger than I can ever comprehend- wants me to go. I awake during the night sometimes and wonder if I feel this way because I will never return. Those moments....I know you all have them....when you realize your mortality and wonder why you have survived for so long. Though I doubt, though I question why I am doing this, though my concern for my children and my husband at times outweighs my independent nature, I know if there is a God- He/She/It/They want me to go. They are pushing me to do this. Even my own blessed mother, who gave life to me, supports this decision- and she is usually very conservative when it comes to adventure. The conversations I have been having with my sweet little Italian mama these last few weeks has....for the first time in my entire life- been urging me to step outside of my box, and see the world like I never have before. What I have realized is that my preconceived notions of my mother are completely false. She has the spirit of adventure in her. She has traveled to Europe many times despite what her family advised her to do. She followed her heart and found that part of her that was missing. I remember my nanna- Italian in every sense of the word- tried to teach me to proud of my heritage. I am only beginning to feel connected to my Italian side....always felt more drawn to my father's Irish roots. But...despite my issues with my mother's family that I was exposed to....I deeply love my mother and want to embrace the warrior/amazon that she is. She is a beautiful woman with more strength than her children could ever be aware of. She holds within her the DNA that I come from and I feel an obligation to understand that while she is still on this planet. I lost my beloved father many years ago, before I got the chance to ask him stories and facts about my ancestors. Now....I live through my blessed Mama....and hope to come back with a small amount of what she has given me throughout the years. This journey ahead of me has shown me so much about how incredibly awesome my ancestors were.Unlike my grandparents, I am crossing the Atlantic with an assured destination. They had no idea what or where they were headed to. This journey I am about to embark on is in dedication to them- Irish and Italian. But mostly I dedicate this vision quest to my mother- for giving me life and for excepting me for who I am. The older I get, the more I realize how dynamic my parents were/are. This is for you Mama! Thank you for giving me life, courage, and support....though I know my free will has tormented you. You are a strong woman in every sense of the word.
P