on adrienne and my constant

Adrienne,

You are beauty.

Those are the first words that come to mind as I sit trying to think of what to write of you, of wishes I have for you, and things I remember and love about you. You are beautiful; who you are becoming is beautiful, and so is the person that I have known since day one.

It’s hard to believe there are only a few days left before you pack up in the car and we drive off our separate ways. I know you’re coming back; I know that our friendship is deeper than distance in miles or measurements. I’m not worried about losing you. At the same time, though, I realize that this era, this year of our lives together… it’s done. This is an ending, but also a stunning and brilliant beginning. When we reunite and have the chance to live together again, life will have taken us down different roads, both good and bad. Who knows what those paths will be… who knows what mistakes and triumphs we will have felt.

I know that when you read this you will smile and chuckle on the inside, calling me the nostalgic one between the two of us, especially with such finality seemingly ringing in my words. I guess it’s because I know more than most that so many things can change so quickly, and I am saying goodbye to you with the understanding that we may not get the chance to walk in the door and call eachother ‘roommate’ again. Things change, and that’s okay. I am at peace with whatever future awaits us.

Adrienne Salome, you have changed me (in a good way). So much will I take with me of you, wherever I go, and so many memories I guarantee I will laugh about for years to come. There was turning our balcony into a nest of blankets and sleeping outside all summer under the stars, a drive to Seattle with our bare feet out the open windows and the music loud, becoming close to our neighbors, sitting in the stairwell bundled up in blankets as summer began to slip into autumn.

The most beautiful about your spirit and your heart, though, is not that you were there on the sunny days. You were also there when it rained; when it poured. You were the shoulder I depended on during the most hurtful and drawn-out breakup of my life; you were the one who told me I was not being the intellignt woman I was designed to be; you were the one who curled up next to me on the floor when I found out that a love from long ago was engaged; you were the one who made sure I finished the application to get back into school to pursue my dreams; and more often than not you were the one to set me straight and tell me I was meant for something more.

What might top the cake is tonight. The walls in our apartment are stripped and boxes line the walls where our furniture used to be. It doesn’t look like home anymore. Our lives are packed tightly in cardboard and duct tape, ready to be whisked away to wherever we are headed next. You and I pulled the couch to our sliding glass doors to look out at the brilliance of the fresh snow on the mountain and over the city lights. We put on our shoes, bundled up in blankets, and flung the door wide, just to feel the 7˚ winter wind in our faces and know that we were alive. We turned the music up loud, you put your head on my shoulder, and every few minutes we would sigh. Several moments of silence passed us by.

“How are you?” You asked me.
“I’m happy. Content with where I am at,” I replied.
“I am too. I can feel that God is bigger, and that He is in control, and that His plan is bigger than mine.”

We sat in silence and let the wind sting our face, taking in every word and gust of the breeze. It was simple, but it was one of my favorite memories with you; finding contentedness in life’s small pleasures and moments of peace.

Adrienne Salome Forsythe, you are valient and fearless. I know you admire those traits in others, but I have found them in you. You are my soulmate, my other half, my best confidant and secret-keeper. If I show up out on the town by myself, there is something missing, and everyone knows it. They ask me where you are, why we are apart, why we are doing our own thing. Even the world knows that I was not meant to be having the time of my life without you.

You have been my constant, my deepest friend, my fellow nomad, and the heart beating for the both of ours when my own seemed to flicker and fade.

Thank you. I love you. I can’t wait to see where the road of life takes us.

on beautiful days and giving thanks

It was a beautiful day.

It was one of those days where you keep trying to take a photograph in your mind of every moving moment and every time the light from the sun catches on your face. A day when finally your soul can rest in the comfort of converation and cups of coffee, when the people you are with are the people you love and the sky seems so wide and full of wonder.

I am so blessed. Some people say lucky, and others say fortunate, but I feel like those words can be a copout because they don’t imply that what you have is given from someplace else.

Two friends and I drove up to Spokane today to take my roommate Adrienne to the airport, to kiss her forehead and tell her we loved her and can’t wait til she is back with us. The dimensions these friends and neighbors of mine have been constantly adding to my life lately is astounding; I keep being amazed by the grace they have for me and that we have for each other ever day. It’s like every day another layer of ourselves is pushed aside so we can grow deeper and closer and more real.

To be honest, my heart craves to leave Moscow some days. I feel suffocated here sometimes, with the nearest city being over an hour away, and where I can’t go anyplace without running into a familiar face. Sometimes I feel like I am trapped, and I look at the next two or three years I will spend at the University of Idaho as a neverending stretch of time.

But more often than not, I realize that my life has found the consistency that it has been lacking for so long. This place, Moscow, is where I belong right now. I realize that these friends – these people I have been able to surround myself with – are my lifelines. My constants. My makeshift and dysfunctional family that supports and loves one another no matter what goes down, no matter who or what wins the battle. And sometimes we fall short, and we lose, and we are let down. But I think that’s okay.

I think we are learning through the rain to appreciate days like today even more deeply. A day when I start my morning dancing with my roommate to Aretha Franklin and ACDC in our pajamas, and cups of coffee with pumpkin creamer sit beside me while I open the shades to let the sun shine in to flood our apartment. A day when my friends and I serenade my mother over the phone singing ‘Ain’t No Mountain High Enough,’ and when the open road in front of you seems like the most wonderful thing on earth.

Thanksgiving week is here and soon the day will come crashing in around us and be gone again without warning.

But when I give thanks, I give thanks for today.

I am thankful for this moment, new beginnings, for my friends and neighbors that have come to support me through the sleepless nights and the rainy days. I give thanks for right now, for the ability to change and to be changed, for how bright the sun can shine, even in my small town, and even in November.

It is true; I am exactly where I was meant to be, and for that, I am grateful.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

on fighting for the logical and late-night revelations

I lose myself in thoughts sometimes. Times like tonight.

Trying to be profound and say all the right things. Trying to spill my heart out in a way that is appropriate and politically-correct. I fight for the logical, wanting to badly to make sense of all these things, of all these events and people and places around me.

I'm finally coming to terms with the fact that life doesn't make sense.

I'm finally beginning to realize that I can't control other people. I can't make them want me, I can't make them be friends with me, and most of all, I can't always be friends with everyone in life, no matter how challenging that is for a people-lover like myself. For someone that is used to being the girl everyone wants to be buddies with, that is becoming difficult for me. To know that my actions don't always define what will become of something. To know that I am not always supposed to steal the show and know all the right things to say and when to say them.

It's not about me.

It's even hard to see that spelled out in black and white, because in our culture we are so accustomed to fighting for our individuality. We are raised and trained-up to want to be recognized. In our country especially, we whore ourselves out to the spotlight, wanting to draw attention in whatever way we can. Uniqueness is a wonderful thing, and life would be monotonous without it, but I am finding that there are some things that are more important. Recognizing the everyday blessings, seizing what is nearest and making the most of it, loving the friends that you have and the place you are at in life.

That is difficult for me, lately. Though I'm not sure why.

Maybe it's because for the first time in my life, I actually care what people think about me. I actually worry about it. This is odd, because one of the things I have always taken pride in is my self-reliance, my confidence and security in who I am and what I am chasing after in life. I am still chasing after those things, but I doubt myself some days. I doubt that I am beautiful, that others think I am beautiful, that I am worth chasing after and pursuing. It's not that I don't have people interested in me, it's just that it doesn't seem genuine, and usually they are intoxicated or desperate - sometimes a frightening combination of the two. Finding men-folk to hang out with that can actually carry on a profound and meaningful conversation are few and far between, let alone ones that I am attracted to and that feel the same way.

It's not all about intimate relationships, though. Then again, it rarely is. And, as previously established, it's not about me.

What is it all about, then?

I often think that it is love; that this is the one thing that makes us different from animals and our ancestors. We have the ability to love, to be self-aware, to extend that love to others and to see the fruits of that as we grow older and have deeper and more meaningful relationships with others. I find that the older I get the easier it is to spill out my life stories to whoever wants to hear them, unashamedly. Because I love where I have been, where I am at and where I am going. That's it. Life is about love. Love of neighbor, country, yourself, and dreams.

One of the things I love about Spanish is how it differentiates between different kinds of love, and for this reason I feel like that language is so much more expressive and passionate about deep thought and emotion. In English, we say we love our spouse and that we love food in the same sentence. We equate how we feel about a movie with how we care about our deepest friend. In Spanish, they have a word for loving an inanimate thing, for liking a thing, for being in the midst of falling in love with someone, and for actually being in love with someone. The verb for loving a sandwich or the weather is a completely different and unrelated word to the love you have for human beings and for lovers. I love that.

Yes. That's it. It's all about love. Love is all you need (mentally humming the Beatles).

That's my 2:45 revelation for today. Tune in next week for my views on developing nations and indigenous rights (not really).

on ethics and preserving the yanomami

Sometimes I wish I didn’t care so much.

At times I wish that I had the ability to turn off compassion, to be able to sleep at night even knowing that others are suffering. That's probably not true, in reality. But I am sleepless, yet again, and for a group of indigenous people I have never met.

In my anthropology class we are involved in a project designed to bring attention to one of the field’s biggest controversies – the Yanomami people of Brazil and Venezuela, and their plea to the international community for help. In the 1980’s, anthropologist Chagnon and genealogist Neel took blood samples from these indigenous people, offering to trade them goods and weapons in exchange for their blood. They promised them that it was for medical research; to find out more about the Yanomami people and their diseases and more importantly, to help them find a cure that would improve the quality of life among their people.

In short (very short), because I spent twelve hours reading up on this today and have no good way to sum it up, here is what I learned:

The Yanomami have had no results back, and have received little to no assistance with the epidemics they are facing because of the exposure to the team back in the 1980’s. Neel has been accused of intentionally giving them inappropriate doses of a vaccine to see how it affected them, while Chagnon has been accused of dishonesty while gathering the samples, not getting adequate permission to use them as he intended, and for misrepresenting this group as an overly-violent people.

What’s even more disturbing, in Yanomami culture, all remains of their deceased are to be destroyed. If this is not carried out, they believe that the dead will wander, unable to leave earth, and will furthermore cause problems among the living out of anger for their part in keeping them from eternity. This is as foundational a belief to them as Heaven and Hell is to most of us in our culture. Today, the blood samples taken decades ago are still being stored throughout several locations and universities in the United States, and some Yanomami are outraged. No one told them that the samples would continue to exist, even some beyond their donors’ deaths, and some claim that they were deceived into thinking differently by the scientists.

Again, in short, I am sleepless tonight thinking of all the sleepless nights these people must have endured, knowing that their loved ones are not at rest, that they were deceived because of their previous lack of exposure to the Western world. I can’t sleep. I can’t sleep knowing that mothers have mourned their children, without knowing if samples of their blood were still in existence someplace else, preventing them from their designed course into afterlife. It is as hauntingly and terribly moving as thinking of our loved ones in hell. And it could be prevented.

I am not claiming I believe or find personal merit in any of their religious beliefs, but in a practice like anthropology where ethics and honesty should be key, there is something deeply disturbing to me about this whole situation. It is unethical. It is dishonest. It is destroying the culture of a people most have never heard of. Most of all, it’s just wrong.

Here is the letter I wrote as my assignment… it is a joint letter to Dr. Joseph Fraumeni (of the National Cancer Institute which is facilitating the return of the blood samples on the American side) and to Carlos Eduardo Oliveira (the key official on the Brazilian government’s side) to try and urge them to sign the waiver to begin negotiations to find a way to resolve this issue. I spent hours on it, so I figured I would post it just in case anyone cares enough to research it a little on their own and see what they can do. Pressure from university students nation-wide is what prompted negotiations in the first place.

Think what we could accomplish if more people were aware, eyes open and listening.

Here is the letter I submitted for my assignment.

-----


Dear Dr. Fraumeni and Mr. Oliveira,

There are many controversies in the field of anthropology demanding attention. There are many issues, on large and smaller scales, all crying out for the day when they will reach resolution. It is understandable that proceedings for any of these items are carried out cautiously and with ample time for the voices of all parties to be heard. One cannot deny the importance, however, of an immediate intervention in the case of the Yanomami people. I am writing today in hopes of turning your attention toward the urgency of their predicament; inspiring you to take action and sign the pending waiver agreement as quickly as possible so that one of today's most pertinent anthropological issues may be one step closer to reaching resolution.

First off, when looking at this issue in its entirety, the "Do No Harm" standard should not only encompass physical or tangible harm but also that of emotional and spiritual well-being. I, personally, believe that part of the beauty in anthropology itself is that it studies not only the physical properties of the human race, but also the importance of their beliefs, ideologies, customs and religions. The American Anthropological Association clearly states in its Code of Ethics that “researchers must do everything in their power to ensure that their research does not harm the… dignity, or privacy of the people with whom they work, conduct research, or perform other professional activities” (AAA 1998). How can one deny, then, the significance of honoring the religious beliefs and customs of the Yanomami?

I have recently been provided with ample information and resources on the subject of the Yanomami and the storage of their blood samples in various facilities across the United States, and have been moved by their plight for our international attention and action. In our culture here in America (and in many other countries worldwide) it is customary to bury our dead, to join together with others in reverence for their lives, and to know that they are resting safely in whatever eternity we believe awaits them. If that right were to be taken away, what consequences and what turmoil would that stir up in the hearts of the affected? We would feel violated - we would cry out, we would stand up, and we would make our voices heard.

Unfortunately, the Yanomami do not have access to the same resources or technology that much of the world is now accustomed to. It is much more difficult to make your opinions heard in the international community without these things, and thus they are looking to influential leaders like yourselves to help further their cause and amplify their voices. I am asking you on their behalf because I believe that without ethics and respect for other cultures and beliefs, the foundation of anthropology is no foundation at all. Regardless of the original intentions for use of the blood samples by other individuals, the power to formally return them and to initiate proceedings to resolve this issue lies in your hands.

All in all, I know that I do not have all of the answers - I, personally, have little say or influence in Yanomami affairs. Being aware of your key position in this matter, however, I encourage you to take into consideration the burden this situation has placed on the shoulders of the Yanomami and the way it has challenged and upset their very core beliefs about life, death and spirituality. The responsibility to act has been entrusted to you, and I believe that a resolution in the not-so-distant future is very much within reach.

Sincerely and with hope,

Dayna Buri

on the good in me

This was hard to make myself actually write, but I feel like I have been a downer lately, and that I should take better care of my soul. So this is for Me. Go me.

Positive things about me. In no order.

I am outgoing.
I have great friends.
I have a nice smile.
I am friendly, even when people sometimes aren’t friendly back.
I am faithful.
I have a heart for the poor and needy.
I am an intelligent, deep-thinker.
I have a great family.
I am a leader.
I laugh. A lot. And it spreads to others.
I give my time and effort to people that seem like they need friends.
I confront issues instead of being passive.
I have beautiful eyes.
I am fairly open-minded.
I don’t judge books by their covers.
I (have heard that I) am a good cuddler.
I am passionate.
I am not scared to show emotion, even if others think it is weakness.
I love all kinds of people.
I am, as a general rule, very upbeat and uplifting.
I love the little things.
I am usually the first to reach out to newcomers.
I try to be well-rounded by reading books and trying to learn from them.
I am a dreamer.
I have a great voice.
I can write songs that move people.
I have good fashion sense, though I usually can’t afford it.
I am always down to try new foods.
I do sweet things for other people to let them know that I love them.
I am back in school.
I have a roommate and neighbors who love me.
I know another language and am passionate about learning more of them.
I have a great sense of humor.
I know so many freaking people.
I work hard.
I would drive for hours if someone needed me.
I learn from mistakes, for the most part.
I like to share what I have, when I can.
I am attractive, inside and out, even if I don’t see that sometimes.
I love to dance.
I embrace the journey instead of a destination (usually).
I can write beautiful things.
I am getting better at calling people back and staying in touch.
I find beauty in the most random things.
I could, hypothetically, tie a cherry stem in a knot with my tongue.
This has yet to be proven.
I am good at taking pictures so I have things to look back on.



Things I need to work on but that are completely possible and within reach:

Having a consistent attitude instead of being so up or down
Working to be more passionate at my job
Being more responsible with my money
Give all I have to my schoolwork, all the time
Try not to take things personally
Find a job that pays the bills but where I am happy simulateously
Get in shape enough to where I feel more confident in myself
Keep my attitude in check when I am wronged or let down
Listening more
Not getting attached to friends or other relationships so easily
Get more sleep on the nights I need to
Work on my music more and use it as an outlet
Not being influenced as much by what people think of me
Be passionate still, but don’t settle into unguided passion
Finish school before I become a nomad and travel the world


See, me? You are actually really cool.

on the rare ocassion that I feel like a letdown

Another night. Another sleepless one, no less.

I spent most of it sitting on my balcony with the cool air in my face and my enormous quilt wrapped around me. The Nyquil is making me drowsy, but sleep has yet to join me and I am lost in thoughts and my funk that I get in sometimes when things don’t seem to make sense.

I get down sometimes. It’s difficult to say why, and there usually isn’t just one reason, but every now and then when the lights go out in the rest of the world, my eyes stay open and my mind is awake and dreaming of different times and places.

Often I think of the beautiful moments, and the memories and life experience that make up who I am and I reflect on where I have been with fondness and nostalgia. But tonight, for some reason, all I can dwell on are the things out of my reach, and how much I have failed at so many things when I am still so young.

I turn twenty-two this month. Twenty-two. Somehow it has been ten years since the divorces, unfamiliar heartache, family drama and all those other nights that were sleepless, only for different reasons. Somehow I am growing more and more distant from the girl that I was, the girl whose old stories and writings I read to look back on, and the girl that was so much younger than I am now, but who seemed to know so much.

How did I get so far? How does a person completely, entirely change?

I am usually an optimist. While I used to struggle with thoughts like these constantly, it has been awhile since I have sat and counted myself as a letdown.

I am a bad friend. Not always, and not entirely, and it rarely goes mentioned, but the more I think about it the more that I realize that it must be increasingly difficult to be friends with me. I have a really hard time calling people back, or remembering to be there for them when they need me. I am a wanderer, and never seem to be happy where I am (take now, for instance). I can’t stay in one place for too long or I feel stagnant and sedentary. Moscow, for example? I feel like I’m suffocating in this place. I am nostalgic and wish for times past (even though when I was there, I most likely was feeling the same way about some other era of life). I can’t imagine what my friends go through, having to listen to the same stories over and over again, having to be there for me and be strong when all I want to do is break out of where I am and change the world.

Oh yeah, and my dreams are impossible. I want to go everywhere. Literally. I spent part of today looking at places to volunteer abroad, and narrowed my selection down to about fifteen or twenty places. I will, likely, never see most of those places. I can’t afford to travel when I can’t even afford to live where I am now.

And that’s another thing. How can one person be so terrible with finances? I am, literally, thousands of dollars in debt. Granted, a lot of it (most of it) is from school, but not in student loans, because I am ridiculous and didn’t research my options before decision-making. But I am working thirty hours a week, barely breaking even as it is, let alone making enough money to pay off minimum payments on a credit card that I never should have obtained in the first place. Now I have no car that functions (until I magically come up with money to buy a new alternator), no money to spend on anything except for very-cheap and inexpensive food, a cell phone that is insanely-simple and frequently runs out of minutes, leaving me feeling even more lonely that I was already. There is nothing worse than a night like tonight, when all you feel like is a failure, and all you want is to hear the voice of a friend that loves you, and you have no minutes to call people with.

Seriously. I have given up playing music as often because even some of my closest friends make me feel like it’s nothing special, especially when they say things like, ‘well I would compliment you on it, but I am really just as talented and we are the same, so I know we don’t really need that from one another’ or ‘when you play I think it’s just because you cling to that as something that will make people like you.’ No, that’s untrue. People like me very easily and I even gave up performing entirely for a long time to make sure that it wasn’t just a way to get attention. I was gifted with a really cool talent and ability, not just the ability to sing some notes, play some basic chords, and make them resonate correctly, and can actually write songs that make sense and move hearts, and I don’t use it. Not even a little bit. I sit on my own time, when no one is home and within earshot, and then and only then do I express myself the way that I used to. It is only then that I play real and sing out loud, because I don’t want to appear to be self-glorifying and conceited in front of others. So thank you world, now I have a complex.

Moving on.

Spirituality? I have no idea where I am at or where I am going, or what I even want from God. Even then, I’m not sure if he is still waiting around to listen after all of my bitter diatribes about me feeling badly when really I am just too lazy to chase after him. Honestly, a whole huge part of me wonders how it is that the entire world has thousands upon thousands of belief systems… what makes my specific choice the right one? Doesn’t every single person in the world feel that their convictions are the right ones, and that there is no possible way beyond the path they are walking? That their path is the true path to enlightenment and offers the best answers for the basic questions we all inherently have inside us? I do believe in God, and I do love him, but it is a love that is somehow always changing and being redefined by my experiences. I know that faith is the unwavering, illogical faith in what is unseen, but at the same time, how do you sleep at night knowing that if you die in the morning, you might have lived and died for all of the wrong reasons? I can’t sleep.

This fluxuates from month to month, but sometimes I drink a little too much and when I drink I am not a happy drunk the majority of the time. In fact, most of my biggest fights and tears have happened over alcohol. Might as well start calling me by my father’s name. And I have taken up the ocassional habit of smoking while in bars here in town, because they allow cigarettes. Mmm… breath that smells of ashtrays and the wafting scent of liquor.

Relationships? Oh don’t even get me started. I have been needy, desperate, dependent and relient, and while I wouldn’t say I am those things in my relationships now, I still always seem to seek out and find guys that are incompatible with me. Not better or worse, not angels or assholes, just different. Just wanting different things than the other could ever give them. How is that fair to either of us? Besides, if we both change to be what the other one needs, we will cease to be who we really are and will cease to chase what we really wanted in the first place.

But I digress, and I sincerely hope that this is Nyquil talking instead of myself (I really think it is, because reading over this, it doesn’t really sound like me at all, and I am bordering on exhaustion… and exhaustion without rest always means over-thinking).

So, just a recap: not a great friend, impossible dreams, lack of vehicular transportation, financial
disaster, ocassional-drunk, chain-smoking, musical dropout, spiritually-apathetic, relationally-retarded, nostalgic mess of a human being. Beyond all of those things, I also have the uncanny ability to be two-faced, can have a really bad work ethic, I procrastinate (though I do somehow manage to get everything done), I have problems following through, and I lie ocassionally to make myself look good.

The personal ad writes itself. I am going to bed now.

postscript: I know I have to 'be the change if you aren't happy' and 'be your own person' and 'follow your dreams' and 'explore your talents' and all of those cliches. I also am aware that they are mostly true. I just was up way too late to have anyone remind me.

on eyes opening and instilling curiousity

Sometimes my life and my brain turn me to face strange directions.

I will think nothing of a topic for days at a time, then all at once it seems like all of my experiences, conversations, wonderings, and even topics in my classes seem to point me towards something. Indefinite as it may be, it’s just the concept in general that lingers there, somewhere in the back of my mind.

So, my friends, here is the concept of the moment: differences. Why are we created different, with diverse political opinions and varying aspirations and talents? What good does it serve? There is the cliché of the betterment of the general world, that we are all special in our own ways, that we all have the ability to make a difference. But beyond those stereotypical responses, what is left?

My sister, Brittany, and I chatted briefly last night about how differing we are; about how it is even possible that out of all the combinations of siblings we could have acquired by marriage, it was us. Polar opposites, inside and out. My petite and athletically-gifted sister has straight, blonde hair while I am taller with unruly brown hair and curls that can’t ever seem to stay put. But beyond the superficial and less-important, our differences lie in so many other areas.

Despite the many things we talked about, the one thing that resonated with me was how we agreed that our difference inspire one another. That when she is passionate about something, it make me passionate about it as well, or at least instills in me the curiosity and desire to find out why it is so important or applicable to her, and vice-versa.

I think that is beautiful.

Do we, as a general rule, function that way with the rest of the world? Seeking to understand passion that is not our own? Trying to examine the world through new eyes? By enlarge, I think that we don’t.

Maybe that’s the reason we are meant to be different and unique, swimming in the knowledge of our own individuality. To inspire. To put forth ideas and beliefs that are new and true and relevant. Open-mindedness does not mean changing your views or believing that right and wrong is different for everyone, just as it doesn’t mean conforming or subscribing to organized religion in order to see where they are coming from… it just means that your ears are open. That your heart is open to love, regardless of differences in culture, personality, or preferences. That you seek to be inspired instead of deterred by differences.

Sometimes I think our eyes have been closed our whole lives, and we are going about this thing all wrong.

I am going to try opening my eyes differently tomorrow.

(Or at least in five hours when I wake up to go to class...)