I am in the midst of doing research to find scientific data on the psychological impact of story-telling/story-sharing for a grant that I’m writing. I came across this article that I thought was interesting, if only because it talks about how stories can be impactful in both good and bad ways. It made me think of election season….

http://www.fastcocreate.com/1680581/why-storytelling-is-the-ultimate-weapon

As my 29th birthday falls upon me, I feel a little like I’m trying to play catch up with my life. The world, the streets, the clocks, are all moving as such a frenetic pace, and I want so badly to hit the pause button and lay down on a bed of sand to catch my breath.

I have this image of a girl on a train, and she sees the next stop – the stop at which she’s supposed to step off – coming closer. Only the train isn’t slowing down. The train is, in fact, accelerating. She sticks her hand out of the window to wave to the people on the platform, attempting to signal to them that she is meant to be where they are. She is meant to stand there too. But they only look at her, confused, and unfazed, as this is not their train, and they should have been well on their way to work by now.

28 was so many things. 28 was attempting to rid myself of the icky selfishness that kept me from being a good partner. Much of it is still there – but I’m peeling away those layers slowly but surely, and there is nothing that feels better than every time I feel another layer fall to the ground. I think that after my early 20′s, where I was so desperate to add to myself in order to feel like a whole person, that life began to be more about shedding the layers that only make cloudy the person I am, the heart, the core. I couldn’t make out my own reflection for so long. And I think I’m beginning to reveal her again.

Click to hear the song of 29.

http://www.theonion.com/articles/nation-trying-okay,27444/

And completely sums up how I’ve been feeling this week. And, if I’m being honest, this month.

http://ironingboardcollective.wordpress.com/2012/02/03/paint-it-black-getting-dressed-when-depressed/

Ahhh!

So, this Friday I have my final interview in the two-month application process for Teach for America. I am pretty nervous, especially since I have to teach a 5-minute lesson to my fellow interviewees as well as do a One-on-One Interview with a member of the Teach for America team.

My lesson is going to be a very simple acting lesson, geared towards Freshman high school students, meant to be part of a series on “Making Choices.” It’s very simple, all about placing emphasis on certain words to change the meaning of the line you are saying. It’s one of many ways an actor can experiment with the words of their character, in an effort to make strong choices.

Very, very, very basic. And kind of makes acting seems silly. But when you think about it, it’s those types of introductory lessons that comprise High School Drama class before you move on to more “serious acting” (by which I mean standing in a circle with other actors and crying).

Wish me luck! I will report back. And after taking my GRE on Monday, I’ll definitely start blogging again. It’s just been a little hectic these past few weeks.

Love,

Sabs

I’ve been thinking a lot about measurement, measuring, measures.
Measurements of success and failure.
Measuring up.
The necessity of measures.
Inseam. Arm Cye. Waist.
Teaspoon. Pinch. Dash.
Quantifiable measures.
A larger paycheck.
Being published.
100, A+, 99th percentile
I have struggled with not being able to quantify my mind or my thoughts or my drive or determination, and thus have at times been obsessed with quantifying my parts. The ones that I can see. The ones that can be measured.
But I have started to understand how that feeds into the culture of measurement that I can’t understand, and don’t want to. I see how that makes me become the person that is easily put into boxes and placed on hamster wheels. I see that “success” is false, and that happiness can sometimes mean taking measures out of the equation.

Did I mention that I work in fundraising?
And that I’d like to be a teacher one day?
You see my dilemma.

Can we find a new word? Like, kittens? On a scale of one to ten kittens – one kitten is still really amazing and really cute, and you’d probably go a little crazy if you had ten kittens, so you’re gonna be just as happy with one kitten as with ten, and maybe even happier?
No?
Can we all just take a day off from measures?
No?
Then I guess here’s my conclusion:
Stop measuring yourself, if you are. And stop allowing others to measure you.
Measurements belong in recipes. Measurements belong to parts, that make up a whole, that is beyond the sum of the parts. Whether you ate organically grown kale in your salad, or iceberg lettuce, the beauty of the inner-workings of your mind are still the same.
One of my recent favorite quotes is from scientist and writer Jonah Lehrer.
It goes, “Like most great art, we exceed our materials.”

Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.