Monday, March 2, 2015

Pillowcase Adventure Project

I thought I knew what poverty was. I've traveled the US and seen depressed areas. I've seen the homeless in the big cities. I've seen ram shackled homes in the country. The cycle of poverty is difficult to break and I always worry most about the kids.

Which is why my life plan is shaping up the way it is. I had to go all the way to Belize and Honduras for it to make sense.

Belize City, where people are proud and happy. And poor. A place where education is important. Where the windows and shutters of the schools are wide open and have no screens but students are learning English. Where a little boy ran to the school fence and waved to me as we drove by.

Roatan, Honduras, where the level of poverty is beyond what I ever could have imagined. Where kids don't have much of a chance. Where five year olds have already started walking the beach, trying to hit up tourists for money in exchange for their trinkets.

Then throw in the sewing. Throw in the need for adventure. The need to give back to others. And this pull I have to quit my job.

It's all falling into place. Soon I'll be visiting an orphanage in Honduras, delivering homemade pillowcases to the kids. I haven't forgotten about Idaho, either. I'll be delivering pillowcases to a children's home here, too. A home full of failed-adoption kiddos, kids that no one wants.

A year of love, gratitude, and giving. Of being happy everyday. Might just call it the Pillowcase Adventure Project. (Still working on the name.)

Soon I'll be up, up, and away. Like the planes in the morning.


Sunday, February 8, 2015

Leaping Lizards, Icky Iguanas

It's so hard.

With most chronic diseases, drug companies are actively marketing management treatments, not cures. That means two things. You're stuck with the disease and you're stuck paying drug companies astronomical amounts of money over the course of your lifetime. 

When you are fighting said chronic illness you feel trapped. You are more than willing to do what the experts say to do in order to add normalcy to your life. 

It can, at times, feel like the illness is winning. It takes control of your life. Your day's activities revolve around the pain associated with it. On good days you think you just might be able to make it. On bad days (mind you, when I say bad it's not just a regular person's bad day - it is an all out fight to move kind of day) you are certain you won't make it. 

Then there are those other days. Days of clarity. Days where it all comes into perspective. Usually on those days there are no answers, but there are gut feelings.  Hunches. Intuitions. About what is right for you in that very moment. 

One of those hunches led me to face my fear of lizards by feeding huge iguanas. 

It's a soul thing. Throw caution to the wind. Take a chance. A way to heal myself. Thumb my nose at the doctors and drug companies. And in the meantime maybe discover who I'm meant to be. What if by chance I'm not meant to be sick after all?