The Best Adventures

Sometimes the best adventures are the ones that made you nervous, full of doubt and sick to your stomach at the beginning of them.

On July 4th, I headed to my gate at DCA, headed to JFK. About an hour later I found out my flight was delayed because JFK didn't have a place for our plane to land; meaning I had five minutes to get to my connection to Dublin. What is an adventure without a little unexpected panic and worry? In the end, I ran when we landed in New York and I was able to barely catch my flight. A little angel was with me or something because the next flight out wouldn't have been until 16 hours later. During my flight to Dublin, I couldn't sleep and my stomach was doing summersaults. I was a nervous wreck.

Despite that, my Europe trip was incredible. It was awe-striking, a learning experience and better than I could've imagined. Ireland was relaxing. The people were incredibly kind and loving. I felt like I was with "my people" there...in some strange way. I could see why the Conways and O'Keefes were such giving people...thank you Ireland. It was beautiful; the landscape itself was unbelievable. I kept telling me companions: "a place like this really exists!" It was amazing. Northern Ireland was a highlight because of all the recent history and how segregated it still is. I felt so moved there; moved to believe that people can make a difference and can stand up and be heard.

I left Ireland with a heavy heart; I could've stayed, exploring forever; but it was time for Italy. And Italy didn't disappoint. It was equally as beautiful, but in a different way. The ruins and history there was incredible. There were many highlights in Italy: Capri, Verona, Venice but by far, my "ah-ha" moment came in the Vatican. We walked through the museums and saw the artifacts, and then we entered the Cysteine Chapel. The artwork on the ceiling by Michelangelo and the thought of what goes on in that room over took me. Everywhere you turned it was overwhelming beauty.

Then we headed to St. Peter's Basilica and as I walked in, my breath was stolen from me. I would've loved a picture of my face; because I'm sure my jaw was hanging open the entire time. When I entered, to my right was the Pieta by Michelangelo. I began to cry as I thought of my mother. Staring into the face of Mary, holding her dead son, I saw motherhood. I felt motherhood. She wept for her son, not for the Savior of Man or the Son of God; but her baby boy. I wished my mom was there with me in that moment.

As I continued to look around the Basilica, I was overcome with more emotions. Traditionally, in Catholic churches you see a ton of Mary and Jesus statues. In addition to whatever saint their church is dedicated. In St. Peter's Basilica, there were eight foot tall stone statues everywhere of all the saints. These regular people, who sinned and messed up but did kind and selfless acts were being uplifted in a church that represents the "home base" of my religion. It wasn't some unreachable person who did miracles or amazing acts; but normal men and women...like me. In my moments in the Vatican, I was able to feel accepted by a religion that doesn't always accept people and I felt like despite my sins and mess ups; I belonged there and God loved me, just like he loved the sinful and sometimes stumbling saints.

My trip was insightful into me. There were times I wished my mom, my roommate, my sister, my boyfriend, my brother, my dad, my priest friend from home, etc. were there. But in the end, I am very happy I did it by myself. I proved something to myself and feel so accomplished and independent. I got to see everything I wanted to see and then some and discovered how strong I am and how strong God's love is for me. Maybe some of the best adventures begin with doubt, but end with change and growth.

Let the Countdown Begin

I'm off on my "Booze Cruise" adventure in four days. Although the term has been coined many times for my Europe tour, I definitely don't intend on drinking my way through Ireland and Italy (contrary to the staples of each country).


As my trip draws near, I am excited and nervous. I am living out my dream; a dream that is 14 years in the making. I am nervous but so proud that I am actually doing it. 14 years ago I made a promise to myself that I would go to Ireland before I died. As a 12-year-old, I remember telling my mom, "I am taking you to Ireland before we die." And although she isn't able to join me, my dream is mostly coming true. I am going to the motherland, Ireland, and getting to see EVERYTHING I have always dreamt of seeing. I am going to Dublin, Cork, Kilkenny, the Blarney Stone, the Cliffs of Moher, Gallway and Belfast, Northern Ireland. I will get to take beautiful pictures, meet locals and soak up as much of my heritage as I can; in the eight days I am there.


THEN, I'm not stopping there, I head to Rome, Italy for a night by myself until my next tour starts. I set off on a 12-day-long Italian adventure! From Rome, I head to Sorrento, Naples (yummy pizza) and Pompei/Mt. Vesuvius, Capri, Florence, Venice, Milan, La Spezia, Cinque Terre and back to Rome. Here is the whirl wind tour - Italy. I am so excited to take beautiful pictures and eat amazing Italian food. Many people have told me to buy blown glass or leather or other fine things but I just am not that kind of traveler. I would rather buy wine and magnets...ha.


I think I am most excited about traveling by myself and doing this on my own. I am 26 years old and have rarely traveled by myself. It's going to be an amazing test of my character and an incredible confidence booster. I cannot wait to trust my instincts, find holes in the wall eateries and explore on my own. The tours I have set up are pretty cohesive, but I can't wait to do some exploring on my own and some adventuring on my own (much to my parents and boyfriend's chagrin). I have packed: amazing walking shoes, skirts, a tummy wallet/band thing to store my passport and money, bubble wrap to pack the wine I purchase, my fancy camera that I just bought, Benadryl (we know how horses, dogs, pine nuts and nature reacts to my body), an international phone and a heart/head full of optimism and excitement!


I am headed off on a new adventure for three weeks! I return on July 24th and cannot wait to share my photos, my experiences and a glass of Italian wine with you all! Wish me luck and Che sarà sarà (whatever will be, will be)!

I'll Be Doing Whatever Snow Does in SUMMER!

It's the best eleven letter phrase any teacher can hear - SUMMER BREAK! Mine started about a week ago and it's been a relaxing, reflective time for me.


As I finished out my second year of teaching I reflected on many things:

1) I will miss these nutty kids. Instead of teaching until the bitter end, I opted for a movie day on the last day of school, where we watched "Frozen". It was awesome. It was disruptive and messy and crazy but it was a beautiful time where they could take their shoes off, eat on their blankets on the carpet and break almost every rule they had practiced so hard throughout the year. We got to enjoy our time together without worrying about literacy, math, science or standards. We could ALL be kids.



2) They are smart. I am sending eight rising PK4 kids to Kindergarten and they are prepared. They know all of their letter sounds, letters, can do basic addition and write their numbers and some can even read. They worked so hard this year and deserve all the credit, but the Penguins were a smart group this year. Out of the 8 Pre-K classes at my school, my class was the only one to entirely reach the benchmark in all three content areas. This means they all reached or exceeded expectations/standards. I am a proud mama Penguin.



3) I am already thinking about next year; yes, it is summer vacation, but I want to keep improving and growing as a teacher. There are a handful of things I feel incredibly confident in now; one being my abilities as a teacher. My principal met with me last week and said, "Katie, it's been incredible to see you evolve into this amazing teacher. It's been really awesome." I can do it. And not only can I do it, but I am already thinking about next year which means I still have a passion for it.



4) For better or worse, I have found my calling. I was talking with my spiritual director about teaching and my students and I kept talking in circles, trying to describe why I keep coming back for more and he interrupted me and said, "it's because it's your vocation." I have found it. After years of trying to avoid the teaching pathway; I've followed in my mother's, father's and grandmother's footsteps. I am a teacher and I love it.



I round out year two with a sad heart as I pass on 8 of "my" kids to another teacher but am excited about the 7 I have returning to me next year as second year Penguins. Thinking about all the awesome stuff they learned and retained this year, I cannot wait to kick start them into super smart Penguin status like my 4-year-olds this year. I am blessed. I am blessed to have summer off; time to reflect on an amazing year; time spent with these hair raising, yet lovable 3,4 and 5-year-olds and blessed to say I truly love what I get to do. Happy summer, everyone! I am off to Ireland and Italy in a week to explore and live out new adventures. I can't wait to show my students all my pictures when I get back!!!

I Wish You Enough

I've been talking to my spiritual director about this a lot lately: "asking for things I think I need instead of listening for what is needed of me."

Over Memorial Day weekend, my friends and I traveled up to the thriving metropolis of Lake Canandagua, NY. Spending the weekend with good people, zero phone service and very little technology in general proved to be an amazing opportunity for us all to appreciate one another.

At Mass during our weekend away, the priest read a poem as follows:

"I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye."

It was a punch in my gut. It was exactly what I needed to hear. I had a weekend away full of peace, love and yummy food. Hearing this poem helped me to change my perspective: asking for enough instead of what I think I need.

Once I stopped and looked around at the beautiful, overflowing lake and lush, green hillside; I realized I had my "enough". I had friends who were willing to laugh, pick me back up again and promise to not take pictures of the 20 times I injured myself over the weekend. I had a boyfriend who voluntarily drove my annoying, Disney music loving butt for seven hours up to Lake Canandagua AND sat patiently as I tried to convince him of my canoeing skills (while paddling us in a circle). I had the beautiful and serene backdrop of birds, trees, lilacs, soft waves and peaceful gusts of wind. I had a roommate who gave me some much needed "girl/pillow talk". And I had Nerf guns ('nuf said).  What more could I really ask for?

I guess it's much easier to appreciate those things when the phone isn't working or facebook isn't available. But what if my "enough", heck, your "enough", could be felt every day? Imagine how full our hearts would be. Realizing that the old man who does Jazzer-size on the corner of my school and greets each person with a huge smile and greeting, is enough. Seeing the mother who walks her chihuahua and toddler every day at 4pm, is enough. Smelling lilacs, hearing children laugh, leaving a kind note for my roommate or sitting in front of a fan for two hours to cool off, is enough. I guess we all have our "enoughs" it's just a matter of whether we stop to truly see them or not. Our "enoughs" are overflowing and everywhere, we just need to freeze and open our eyes to the beauty around us.

With that said, I wish you enough and the mindset to see where your "enoughs" are fighting to be seen. 

Finding Refuge from Self-Deprecation

"My friend, if I could give you one thing, I would wish for you the ability to see yourself as others see you. Then you would realize what a truly special person you are." -BA Billingsly To many, I am a confident, strong and independent woman. I hold my own and have learned to take care of myself pretty darn well. As one of my best friends said, "Katie, you can do single all by yourself. You're good at that." I know single because it has been my best companion for years.  In that single-ness, I suppose I didn't know what I was lacking was someone who was uninvolved (and had nothing to gain in return) who showed me how special I was. Sure, my parents constantly remind me of this fact and 17 pre-schoolers do as well but their opinions are biased and they have to say stuff like that (it's in their job description).  In the past month I have found someone who has. It's an odd feeling, going from something I know so well to thinking about and caring for another human being on a daily basis (foreign concept for me). Even stranger, seeing that that person thinks and cares about me a lot is even more unfathomable.  There are times I use humor and being the butt of jokes to make others laugh or smile or to just draw attention away from things I dislike about me. I suppose we are all guilty of this; but this man I am seeing points out my self deprecating comments and moments and digs into why I am so hurtful to myself.  Last night in a moment of vulnerability and honesty, I said something negative to this man about myself and he pulled the car over and said, "I just don't get it. How many times can I tell you you're perfect until you believe me? If you need reassurance, just look into my eyes, see it in my face...you're perfect."  It is so easy for me to see the beauty in others (even in the grumpiest of people) but when I look at myself, that beauty seems to melt away. This man, this wonderful man, is helping me see my beauty. I guess as long as I attempt to see myself as he sees me, to look into his eyes for reassurance, than I will eventually see how truly special I am.  Peace and love to you all; I see how truly special each and every one of you are and I hope you see it too.

Process of Accepting Loss and Loving

What a long week. I feel like this week in particular dragged on; but the odd thing is, I felt God's embrace around me throughout the entire time. Like there was a warmth surrounding me, a tightness of someone's arm around my shoulders, just pushing my body through the next thing on my checklist.

I never had a close relationship with my grandmother. We lived so far away from each other so it made it difficult. So when she passed away last Sunday my head and my heart began a civil war within my body, that I feel only God's embrace has started to remedy. I wasn't sure how to feel. She's my first grandparent to pass away but she was also 92 years old. I should be so lucky to live that long. I thought about the opportunities I passed up to spend time with her, or write her or call her. I thought of how often I had figured I had so much time...not sure where I thought that "time" was coming from a woman who was 92. I guess I just didn't know. I mean, who does, really? So many things I didn't know and don't know, including how to react or grieve. It's a new process for me and I'm not sure how I'm supposed to be doing it.

But these are the things I do know:
1- She was a die hard USC fan, loved anything Irish and I probably got not only my stubbornness, but my passion for Ireland from her. She always had to have bright red nails and lipstick; had closets upon closets of stuff (including menorah candles) for "just in case" purposes (Depression baby). She loved children and loved teaching and was a very devote Catholic.   
2- She loved me. As much as I couldn't truly wrap my mind around that fact, she loved me very deeply. I could hear it in her voice every time she called; I could sense the pain her heart felt, knowing she'd never really be close to me. I know she loved me very much and I am just now realizing how much. 
3- God loved her. God loves us all. OK, duh. But even throughout my reservations (for various reasons) to be close to her, God was. He loved her very much and for that reason I am writing my entry today.

I mourn the loss of my grandmother because I mourn my own selfishness. I mourn the loss of my grandmother for my grandfather, who is left behind; for my mother, who is there watching grandfather struggle; and for my aunt and uncle who are mourning in their own ways. I mourn the loss of my grandmother because I think about all that could have been. And I mourn the loss of my grandmother because I couldn't see her the way God did.

Lent has only begun and I have decided to change my promise. In light of the little Irish lady, I called "Grammie", I pray that I treat people with the love God does and see them as He does. Because at the end of the day, God doesn't care about USC, bright red nails or closets of clothes; He cares about the relationships we're building and how we're choosing to show His love through our actions. I miss her. It's an odd feeling, but while I'm teaching specifically, I feel her. I feel her looking down on me, giggling at my students when they say something silly or smiling at me as I make her proud working with a population she loved so much. I feel closer to her now than I ever did before. And now I'm trying to love her the way God does; without reservation and without judgment.

You Can't Worry and Worship at the Same Time

Matthew 6:24-34 "Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself."

Went to Mass today. My good friend and I made a point to make this our "date" for the day. Today's gospel and homily couldn't have been more on point for where I am at in my life. Life isn't slow and it certainly isn't boring. I feel like I am in a constant state of exhaustion with a laundry list of things still "to do" but today's homily helped me to put things in perspective. 

Fr. Pat began by saying that the gospel isn't saying, "let go of your fears and don't worry, be happy. Because that's unrealistic, that's not helpful. When someone is in true distress, telling them not to worry is not helpful to the situation. What the gospel is saying is that while you are worrying, you're number one priority isn't God, it's your worry. You cannot worship and worry at the same time because what becomes number one? Your worry."

He went on about opening ourselves up to God and His abilities to see us through and to pray for help conquer our worries. He shared a story about when he opened the door for an old lady and she was so profoundly grateful that it made him wonder, "what does she have going on in her life that this simple act meant so much to her?" He called that a set up for a blessing. 

This made me wonder; how many times have I been set up for a blessing and missed it? How many times have the opportunities to love or care for another whizzed past me? OR how many times have I been a blessing and not recognized it? I thought of two weeks ago, after I had a parent/teacher conference with a group of parents. Two parents lingered until everyone left and started talking to me about their son. After discussing his progress and how much I enjoyed him in the class. The dad off handedly said, "these kids are lucky to have you." And before I could respond, the mom said, "that is for certain, our son has changed so much..." then she started crying, "it's a different kid. It's just a happier, different kid. Thank you."

You never know who considers you a blessing or where a blessing will come from. We all have worries, we all have troubles and trials and tribulations BUT, by dwelling in the worry, God slips to number two on our priority list and blessings just whiz past us. 

Fr. Pat ended the homily with a helpful suggestion: instead of giving up coffee or ice cream for Lent, think about your goal for the end of Lent. What do you want to accomplish? By setting a target or goal for Lent, you will probably be more success in keeping and maintaining that trait or sacrifice you are attempting to accomplish. 

This year, for Lent, I want to go to Mass every Sunday with the goal being to breathe new life into my spiritual life. I want to go to confession (same goal as listed above). I want to run three times a week with the goal being for me to be a healthier and happier individual. And lastly, I want to be the set up for blessings every day (goal - to remember what true love really is: it's compassion and selfless giving). 

The readings for today were a slam dunk and if you take anything away from my blog today, I hope that it is two fold: 1) You cannot worship and worry at the same time 2) You never know how or when you are the set up for a blessing for someone else.