Prior to this weekend I had plans on a much different blog post. Having just returned from Nepal 1 week ago I have been trying to formulate how I could describe my experience over the last month.  

As usual, words fail to capture what I experienced. My travel friend, Kim, said it perfectly....pick any adjective and you would describe it. It was beautiful, ugly, wonderful, difficult, amazing, lonely, etc. However, in the wake of the earthquake my reflections, experiences, and even memories are now altered for in the midst of heartbreak they all seem so clouded.

I woke Saturday to numerous emails from friends and colleagues both in Nepal and stateside regarding the recent tragedy in Nepal.  Quickly I googled the events and was shocked to see what was unfolding in my beloved Nepal. For starters, my team was right in the epicenter of the quake just last week and trekking at 11,000 ft for the last three.  Below is a map of the earthquake, we were high in the mountains in the Dhading region; the red zone southeast of the red star, northwest of Kathmandu. 

Many of the villages that we served are in complete rubble and I fear that many of the people we saw are badly injured.  I am just shocked, had the earthquake occurred just one week earlier I would have most certainly been injured or worse, we were right there.

On the way over I met a lovely Canadian couple close to my age who were attempting to summit Everest. She is an OB/GYN and he is a Naturopathic doctor. On the 14 hour plane ride from Seoul, South Korea to Kathmandu we became close as we excitedly shared about our upcoming adventure. They would have either been at Everest base camp or on the mountain when the massive avalanche occurred….I have no idea if they are safe or not.

My heart aches right now for Nepal, my soul cries for the lives and history lost.  Below is a picture of Patan Durbar square, in the heart of Kathmandu.  Founded in the 3rd century it is an amalgamation of temples built of intricate wood and stone carving that is rich not only in history but religious significance as well.  Just last week this picture was taken, here I am admiring what is now gone, history reduced to rubble.  Its loss is devastating.  

I have never been big into journaling, however, at the recommendation of a seasoned mountaineering friend who told me that "inspiration comes on those mountains," meaning the Himalayas,  I brought a journal.  Not only did I write in it, I nearly filled it up. And as I write this, I am thankful for those written memories especially as I know many of them can never be relived.

Yesterday I found an entry dated mid April about Patan Durbar Square, the Swayambhunath Stupa, and the Boudhanath Stupa (the largest and holiest Buddhist Stupa in the world). All of these structures have been damaged or destroyed in some way.

In my journal I wrote about walking around these places and being brought to tears at how holy and peaceful they felt. In ways that I cannot describe, my soul was deeply touched and comforted in remembering the oneness of all.

A little history on stupas and these pictures. A stupa is a mound-like structure that contains religious relics and acts as a place for Buddhist meditation. Atop of the Stupas are Buddha eyes looking out in all four directions depicting omniscience. The nose which looks like a question mark which symbolizes the unity of all things and the way to reach enlightenment. The third eye is to represent the wisdom of Buddha.

Above are hundreds of prayer flags, a common scene throughout Nepal. Each color representing the five elements: earth, air, wind, fire, water.  They are used to promote peace, compassion, strength, and wisdom. Buddhists believe that the prayers and mantras will be blown by the wind to spread goodwill and compassion into all pervading space. I have seen pictures after the earthquake and know they are still blowing in the wind, still sending compassion throughout the country during this great time of need.

In the Buddhist view, I or Me depends on You for existence. All things depend on each other equally. This dependence was very evident in the villages that we trekked through. It appeared that everyone shared equally both in work load and resources, it is just something that you do. In the same way, there is an unspoken acceptance that if you pull a person the wrong way you immediately redefine yourself in light of what you've done to yourself and to your neighbor.

Even their greeting, Namaste, recognizes or bows to the Divine in you. Hearing the children shout Namaste down from the mountains as we trekked by will forever be etched in my heart. I didn't realize how much this meant to me until I got off the plane in the states.  Not having someone greet me this way felt not only foreign but impersonal as well.

I recognized a stark contrast between the Nepalese paradigm of interdependence contrasted with the Western ideal of independence that I have been taught since a young age. The interconnectedness that I saw among the people also transcended into connectedness with not only each other,  but also with the mind, body, soul, and the Divine.

Being in Nepal for one month I began to resonate with this unspoken vibration as well. Not only did I want to be more compassionate and gentle with others, but also with myself as well. I find that given the option to over indulge in food, materialism, or life in general I merely would not. I see the wisdom in living the middle way that Buddhism teaches.

Though the life of a rural Nepalese is certainly difficult by our standards, it has purpose. Digging your hands into the earth to plant and harvest your food, living completely dependent on nature and its gifts has a way of grounding you to creation. Our world is certainly changing - we are becoming less dependent on each other and Earth's natural gifts and more reliant on ourselves and the artificial. I often wonder if comparatively I am stifling my own potential for real soul development by living an easy American life. I know I am built to love but too often I get in my own way.

It is in knowing that these values are core to the Nepalese society that I have some comfort in the wake of the earthquake.  Though I still ache for what happened, I take comfort knowing that this culture leaves no one behind. I also take great comfort in knowing of both the impermanence of things seen and the infinite of those not.

There is so much I want to write about, and many many more pictures to share but in the wake of the earthquake I wanted to elaborate on what was on my heart now.

As I think about the current situation in Nepal I am reminded to always give yourself completely, every instant and everyday, so that every act is a holy one. In Nepal I learned that life changing insights and experiences do not accessorize the existing life, they alter it for good. The greatest journey that any of us will ever take is from nothingness to somethingness. My journey thanks in large part to Nepal, has brought me closer to something leaving nothing behind.

Well, its been 5 years. Five good and life changing years.  Since today marks Ian and I's 5th wedding anniversary, I have to start this blog off by first thanking his mom, Dianne, for introducing us so long ago. At the time I remember thinking how much she resembled the late Princess Dianna and that if she was this beautiful, her son might be worth checking out as well. Then I glanced at the last name embroidered on her long white lab coat...Niecko, I like that, I could do Niecko. And next thing you know, voila, Ian enters the picture. 

Neither one of us anticipated it happening so fast, but I am sure glad that we decided to take he plunge and as the Queen says, Keep Calm and Marry On!

Last weekend, in early celebration of our anniversary we headed to Anchorage. Ian had to teach a mental health first aid class and I thought I was just tagging along for support. However, he surprised me with a weekend getaway to what he called my very own "Jane Castle." Knowing that I love all things English and Jane Austen, he booked us a weekend stay at a B & B strait from the Tudor era. It not only looked the part, but we also had personal tea time daily. 

The best part however, was the room that held a dozen roses, chocolates, and a hand written poem by my personal Mr. Darcy aka Ian.  It was extremely thoughtful and romantic. 

Without question it has been an adventurous 5 years. For the first 2 years of it we were immersed in rural Alaskan life.  When I look back through these blogs I can see the transformations that have occurred in both of us individually and together as a couple.  Color is what comes to mind. 

There also seems to be some primary internal color of the human soul that cannot be seen by the visible eye and can only be experienced from within. This is how I would summarize our last 5 years, one of learning to see the invisible and allowing it to permeate and radiate from a deeper place. 

When I think on this, I could easily assign a color to each year of our marriage. A color that was both felt and seen.  When we first got married I would assign red, red hot. Wouldn't most of you say this is how you felt the first few months of marriage as well?

Red, though, has a way of changing. During our time in the bush I would assign a grey color; sometimes it was dark black, sometimes it was pure white, but when you mixed the two together you would always get a variable shade of grey. Part of our growth in the bush was in going through the problems, not coming up to them and saying that they were too great or too large, but actually going through them. Many times we had to leave our fears at the door, enter in, and hand and hand, step by step,  go through. The beauty now is in seeing how this unfolded, knowing we have overcome. 

When we moved to Juneau things seemed to really change and I would assign these last 3 years various shades of green, mostly for growth. Where once I was anxious to discover the future, I am now learning to look at it through the eyes of who I already am and not just as what I will become. Learning to become present in every moment helps illuminate the colors of my life and my life with Ian and with others.

This next year as we both start our doctorates I see blue; an open clear sky of serenity. Of course things may change and our clear skies may sudden open to down pours, storm clouds, or gusts of wind however I hope that the yellow sun of our souls will continue to permeate even the gloomiest of days and illuminate our way.

Yellow illumination is the color I am taking with me to Nepal next week. I am headed on my most extreme medical mission trip yet. In anticipation of trekking in the Himalayas for 3 weeks at 16,000 feet without showering, I know I will need more than physical endurance and personal hygiene wipes to get me through. I am hopeful that as I push myself physically and mentally I will remember the journey of the last 5 years and be open to unlocking more parts of myself that are ready to be revealed.

Blessings, love, and peace -
Sarah

I finished whirling out this blog after a moment of inspiration only to find that a blog without pictures is just not as appealing.  So in an effort for visual enhancement I included pictures from my most recent Alaskan adventure, winter camping.

Four of us brave Alaskan women hiked 3 miles at night, in the cold of winter, and with high winds to enjoy a little R and R at the John Muir cabin. Though we seriously contemplated throwing in the bag and going to dinner instead, the lure of adventure eventually won. I have to say hiking out with only our headlamps and the stars to guide our way was fabulous.

Almost as fabulous as getting a personal helicopter lift to work the next morning....not a bad commute if you ask me!

So, Ian and I recently bought a condo. On the practical side it became apparent that though we enjoy our current apartment, paying off our own mortgage rather than someone else's seemed a wiser "investment." I put the word investment in quotes as this is what it has turned out to be. On the obvious side it has been an investment of our money, that goes without saying. But through the process of buying and decorating our condo, unexpected " personal investments" pertaining to choice, social obligation, and morals have made this more than just a simple purchase.

Let me elaborate.

We were interested in making some cosmetic changes. However, when we went to buy a sofa I found myself twitching from all the decisions that I had to make (those of you who know me well know I do this when I am nervous). Style, color, fabric, size....agh! My heart was perilously beating as I was confronted with the chaos of choice, or rather the tyranny of it.

Unknowingly it had seductively whispered that more options were obviously better and they would allow more freedom for me to express my individuality. What it had failed to mention was that this would all take place at the expense of my happiness.

This was heavy on my heart when a friend of mine turned me on to an article called, The Tyranny of Choice (go figure!).  It cites evidence that though logic would tell us that more choice is good, there actually reaches a point when this assumption is completely wrong. Although some is undoubtedly better than none, more is not always better. And statistically speaking their evidence suggests that consequences of unlimited choice from sofas to cereal may go far beyond disappointment to actual suffering and depression. Setting expectations too high undeniably causes disappointment when things fail to deliver or lose their luster. This is often the case in cultures built upon excess where status and self worth is showcased though material possessions. And depressing is where I found myself. Boo!

Then, we wanted to change the flooring. For us, carpet was not an option. They are basically a toxic soup of dangerous fumes and residues hidden by fancy colors and textures to placate our visual senses. And by nature of living in this unsafe soup bowl you are daily spoon feeding your body with a whole bunch of harmful ingredients that are sure to lower you IQ and cause cancer.

Back to choice. Hardwood, laminate, bamboo, cement, cork? Just when we thought we had found a sustainable source in bamboo we found that it too is often manufactured unsustainably and then dipped in formaldehyde for good measure. As we began to explore the toxicity of most American homes, I began to think our ancient ancestors had it right. Living in a grass hut with dirt floors is the safest most sustainable way to go!

We encountered the same situations with furniture. Polybrominated diethyl ethers (PBDE's) and polyurethane, aka flame retardant chemicals.....do some research, they are probably lowering your IQ and causing cancer right now.

So yes, we bought a condo, but what I now realized was that to live in it I would be endangering my health and destroying the earth....sounds fun.

Ian and I spent hours going over flooring, bedding, furniture...I just wanted something simple that would not pollute my body or my Earth. And let me tell you, it became increasingly frustrating and depressing that amidst all the choices out there, finding honest companies that had these same core values in mind was difficult. It got me thinking about a lot of things.

In our attempts to "keep up with the Jones's," companies meet the demands of consumerism by cheaply outsourcing and mass producing toxic junk. Then when we get bored of our junk or after it causes depression we throw it into our dumpsters where its contents eventually reach the landfills and its ingredients leach into our water and soil. Yeah!

Hold on a sec, maybe I don't want this after all! Maybe I do have one simple choice, a choice to say no! A choice to choose simplicity even if it costs more; something I can feel as good about purchasing as I do sitting in. A choice to buy from the one company who is sustainable, treats its workers fairly, and will not destroy my planet, my body, or my soul. And this is where my "investment" really is, with my soul.

So, next enters soul, something I have been neglecting. In all of this chaos I realized it was only experienced as chaos because of the rapids that needed calming in my soul.

In looking at the scale of the life of the cosmos, our time here is truly just a tiny blip. Each one of us is a temporary visitor, a guest, to this planet. Why spend our short time here unhappy, lonely, angry, and in conflict with our fellow visitors, ourselves, and with our Earth?

It is far better to pursue love and a meaningful life, one that is enriched by a sense of connection with and service towards others, and with the planet that sustains it. If we cannot recognize the chaos that we are instilling in our children, will a more caring generation ever emerge?

I realized that at every level of life most of us are giving too much attention to the external material aspects of life and neglecting the inner values and moral ethics that have been innately bequeathed to use at birth.

We can hide behind the term religion, but our faith should truly change us and allow us to strive for the welfare and benefit of all beings; human, animal, and plant alike. It has to stop imposing moral values by command only and strive in addition to teach a higher way to be experienced and lived.

Formal schooling should not only pay attention to arithmetic and science, but also to the education of the heart as well; the indispensability of teaching proficiency of inner values. Love, compassion, justice, forgiveness, the integration of non-violence and peaceful conflict resolution. It should seek to halt the manifestation of an entitled consumerist generation that fails to connect its actions with their global consequences, and teach a generation to unselfishly solve problems and show responsibility both toward themselves and toward the wider world.

As a race we can have simple choices: we can continue on and mutate from the inside out with the toxins we feed our bodies and minds, or we can choose be a dew drop to the soil of the human heart and the world.

I just returned from Nicaragua. In the beginning I always think that this will be my last year going, however as the annual time approaches I always find myself coming. This year in particular was very special as my mother-in-law, Dianne, a nurse practitioner, and my friend, Cherith, both joined the team.

On the way down I had a 10 hour layover in Miami and was able to re-connect with my dear friend, Laurie and meet her beautiful children. Laurie is one of those friends that though we may not speak for many months, we can just pick up where we left off like no time has passed.

It is hard to believe that I have known her for 12 years and that 5 years ago she was the Maid of Honor in my wedding. I have never known her as Laurie, a mother, but smile at how easily she has transitioned into this new role.

It felt good to connect with people who were so instrumental in my life. Though I love living in Alaska, it is very far from both family and friends. I was happy that with two young children Laurie didn't think twice about coming to pick me up at the airport and that Dianne happily accepted the opportunity to join me in helping the people of Nicaragua.

I was especially proud of Dianne as this was her first medical mission. Though in the beginning she was a little nervous, after a few hours she found her stride and continued onward with much compassion and grace.  Though we offer medical help, truly experiencing the people of Nicaragua is our greatest reward.  It is in these times that I have found my greatest personal growth, and watching this unfold with Dianne was beautiful.

One particularly found memory was seeing her dance with an elderly man. He had just gotten a new pair of shoes and was so excited that he grabbed Dianne and started dancing.  Afterward as we were preparing to leave he came onto our bus and said a blessing over the medical team. It was very humbling to have witnessed this exchange and I believe it blessed Dianne very much.

It has been no secret that Ian and I have intentionally put off having children. When I travel to low income countries, especially when I stay at orphanages like we did on this trip, I have difficulty justifying having my own. Though I do not pass judgement on couples who do so,  with the global population well beyond 7 billion I do wonder what our earth and its populates will look like in the next 100 years.

On this trip however, I did feel somewhat of an unfamiliar thing, a strong maternal urge. Much of the time I would have rather played with the children than do anything else. Between making balloon faces, braiding hair, and painting nails, this longing to be around the children continued.

 

I had someone ask me once why I spend my vacation and money on global health issues when it seems to be only a small drop in the ocean.  My answer came out immediately, for the next generation's generation. If I can help one person, my hope is that for their children that drop will improve their lives if even a fraction. I may not live to see the fruits, but as time passes, it may add up to great change.  Like Mother Teresa had said, I don't want to live my life overlooking the drop, because the ocean would still be less if it were missing. 

For this trip I had a lot of people who contributed generously. Several months ago a colleague's daughter, Evelyn, had a lemonade stand and contributed a portion of her proceeds to the Jinotega Children's Orphanage. Before I left we went to the store and she picked out coloring books, crayons, markers, and pencils to donate to the children.  

One day after clinic I brought all the goodies out and ALL the children came rushing in to color. Every single child spread out on the gym floor to color. After a few minutes I stood up, watching them smiling and laughing, I just cried. Though they were only crayons and coloring books, the ocean for these orphaned children was a little fuller with Evelyn's drop.

Another friend Emily, a single mother of two boys, donated tons of clothing, shoes, and toys for the children. Without hesitation she and her boys went through all of their stuff and brought over piles and piles of goodies that they wanted to donate. As I was walking out the door her older son was still going through stuff that though he enjoyed, would rather give to another child. 

Two of the gifts in particular, a stuffed dog and a jump rope brought tremendous joy to their recipients. This little girl would not stop smiling and hugging her new French dog. 

And I spent hours jumping rope with the children. 

Other friends donated money, toy cars, nail polish, and stickers, all of which were greatly appreciated. Like I mentioned earlier, I could have spent my entire time painting nails and jumping rope; seeing these children light up was so wonderful.  

For little boys, the match box cars bring extreme excitement and joy. I usually start by driving the little cars up their legs and unto their stomachs all the while trying to imitate car sounds. I usually end by placing the car in their hands upon which they continue the little car game by racing the cars around the plastic chairs. 

An interpreter, Michelle, told me a story about a little boy who received a car. His father said that though he had been asking for a toy car for many months, the family was too poor to spend money on such extravagances. When Michelle told the story at our nightly meeting, she was brought to tears recounting how the little boy kept smiling and how grateful the father was.  A little match box car, not an iPhone.....it just blows my mind. 

I get the same reaction when I give a little girl a colorful purse. Its what keeps me sewing just one more.....just one more.....

It also reminds me of my many unnecessary extravagances, and how unexcited I have become about all the excess stuff I own and how empty it actually makes me feel.  I am beginning to despise this part of me that depends on such things that create a false sense of security or happiness. 

These thoughts and questions have been heavy on my heart over the last year. So at my request, when my birthday came around this year in lieu of buying me a gift, I asked my office to use the money to sponsor a child in Nicaragua instead. 

I was so excited when the organization sent us a picture of Marie Luz, the little girl we would be sponsoring. I was even more thrilled when I could finally meet her and give her a hug! 

The more I travel and learn, the more I realize that it doesn't take much to be the hands and feet of love. 

And that when I die, the only thing left in my hands will be what I have given away.

This is my interpreter, Bildad. I truly enjoyed working with her during the week. She was beautiful, articulate, smart, and all around lovely. 

When a group of children sat down to be examined I was somewhat dumbfounded when all of their chief complaints were that they were unable to concentrate. As I have been taught I ran through my list of questions  - any family history of ADD/ADHD, was there bullying at school, headaches, vision changes, hearing problems, etc? 

However, when Bildad stopped me and asked them when the last time they had eaten, I was shocked to learn it was almost two days ago; they had been unable to buy food for the day. Bildad then went on to tell me this is also why she had trouble concentrating at school, she was always hungry. 

As the 2nd poorest country in the western hemisphere of course this would make sense. She went on to tell me of how poor she grew up, how all she could think about during class was food, hoping that there would be dinner on the table that night ,and how often there was not. Though I know about poverty, I am still far removed from its consequences. As I sit here writing this blog I am well aware of my fully stocked fridge and cabinets.  Right now my biggest concern is what I am going to make for dinner, not if there will be any to serve. 

Still, for most of the Nicaraguan people there is joy. There remains a resiliency that cannot be learned. There is peace, hope, and love that naturally occurs in those who have faced these tragedies and there is a spiritual teaching that radiates from their life. 

In the west we are very bipolar in our life; fluctuating between extremes in our emotions and lives,  often remaining very addicted to ourselves and our story.  We seek medications or drugs to numb ourselves because we don't like the swings of pain, our obesity, or our depression. We crave the upswing to feel better but neglect the self reflections and stillness that is needed to calm the pendulum. By default we have a large downswing and then the cycle starts all over. In other cultures this pendulum swings much slower and inadvertently the traumas are experienced much differently. 

In countries like Nicaragua they seem to not just avoid the bad also to actively seek the good. They strive for the middle way and are able to sit with uncomfortableness, watch it, feel it, and even accept it. Maybe this is because they have accepted death whereas we try to avoid it. We strive to make ourselves look younger, often going through extreme surgeries to evade the unavoidable appearances of time. Often in the United States  I also strongly sense feelings of entitlement without any consideration for contribution, its just what is expected. 

In places like Haiti or Nicaragua I rarely feel this way. I have watched young children stand for hours patiently waiting to be seen, people gratefully accept tylenol, and families continue to smile and play though hungry and without an iPhone. 

I took care of a 65 year old women who worked from 4:00 am - 4:00 pm in the coffee fields 7 days a week just so she could have food on the table each day. As I examined her rough and worn hands I wondered how many of our teenagers could do such hard labor without complaining? 

I am not trying to get down on our culture, only trying to understand how other cultures, especially in the third world, can appear more developed emotionally with so little externally. I have said for a while that our society also has poverty, but our poverty is mostly of the soul. Unlike the low income countries who are almost forced to develop their inner man,  we are taught from an early age about the survival of the fittest, the victory of the strongest, and the success of the most clever. Little is said about the glory of the one who both finds and develops himself and his soul.  I wonder if this happens more with the poor because they have learned to surrender to their struggling and in doing so their victory is won. 

I love the quote by the Dalai Lama, " Man sacrifices his health in order to make money, then he sacrifices his money to recuperate his health. And then he is so anxious about his future that he does not enjoy the present; the result being that he does not live in the present or the future; he lives as if he is never going to die, and then he dies having never really lived. "

As always, this trip has given me much to chew on and contemplate. I am immensely grateful for the Nicaraguan people for having shown me their resilience and love amidst hardship. Each time I go I learn something new and I hope that I too could live as gracefully as they do should I be given their life. 

-Sarah