Systemic Thinking

Tonight’s class had a guest speaker and part of his information dealt with the topic “systemic thinking.” I’ve been doing this my entire life and never knew what it was called. Consider it a combination of analysis and otherwise “digging.” It’s seeing patterns and trends in life processes. I first learned to do this with scriptures. Looking for parallels with life and with what I read, this is now a normal part of life for me happening daily, like breathing.

I don’t know whether I am “good” at it or not. It simply comes to me when looking around at life. There were other aspects of the discussion like leadership- a real leader is someone who inspires others to their best behavior by looking to help those people become better themselves. A real leader also has interest in the development of his or her cor-workers, staff, comrades, or just plain friends or family. I want to add here, irrespective of whether or not they can benefit him or her. Honest and active leadership involves recognizing the strengths and benefits of the people who surrounds one. Working hard to make a positive impact is the main result required from positive change, even if change is not easy.

The older I get, the more that I see change as necessary to make any progress in life. I recently moved six miles. That may not seem like much, but in a city like where I live, it is the difference between drug stores on every corner, and actually having corners. I live in a space that feels safer, and that should hopefully host some sort of social event or gathering for a small group once I have a clue where I really want to put my bed.

Moving in has taken time and energy, but the good thing is that I am now frequently on-campus, and thus I have more emphasis on homework and less time spent in other measures or other pursuits. Focus was an issue, but now I am normally in the same room nearly every waking hour. This does happen to be my favorite room between both campuses, but I am grateful that tomorrow I will change it up a bit and go to other places where I may pursue other endeavors.

Thanksgiving will be a local event, and I still cannot choose with whom to participate in the matter. There are other temptations which try to hit my mind, but I know in Whom I have trusted, and even if there is no other way out I have Him and will power. There is the example of not giving heed to potential issues. No matter how late it is, no matter how cold, or lonely, there is determination and endurance. Called “true Scottish grit” by some, it is knowing that the Lord will keep His promises whether or not the results are instantaneous, and especially when you wait for years and try your best and keep going the best that you know how to do, admitting candidly imperfections if called upon.

For those who scoff at faith, try a dose of HEAVY duty trials. There will be no more scoffing shortly thereafter. Friends and love come and go, but God ever remains. The methods may change like a DVD player to ITunes, but the message content (what another professor likes to call data) stays the same. The expression of the thought process is manifested in various ways, and they’re not bad.

Just like how God loves all people no matter how stupid we all get. Yeah, sure- people get on each other’s nerves. Best friends sometimes need to breathe. But that doesn’t mean that there is a lack of goodness there. I wonder sometimes if people don’t believe in God because of trust issues, or not wanting to commit, or for any reason, openly, they’re scared. It takes faith in emergencies to get through it. Not sure whether anyone else thinks this way, but I do. It’s not a complete thought, but hopefully it gets people to think.

I have no idea what God has in store for me, but I think that whatever it is, it’s going to be fun. Not sarcastically-meant, either. I believe in a God of miracles, of love and light, who likes and respects intelligence, but doesn’t treat people unfairly. If you’re going to do God’s will, He will likely start working with you more. That’s not to say that there won’t be opposition, but God overcomes things. It’s how He works. This is the Deity that I believe in. This is part of Jesus Christ.



Last night, someone asked me if I was happy with what I was up to: two Masters, trying to find a new job, being super-busy with Church stuff, and otherwise under a lot of pressure. My answer didn’t really sound that good. I want to be obedient to God and because of that, I don’t expect immediate happiness. That just sounds bad. It seems like the point of doing all of this stuff is becoming happy, and I don’t remember what it’s like to be happy. I can remember gratitude, but at the same time I’m trying not to panic every second of the day.

Having problems isn’t really going to change. Everyone has issues, whether they’re health-related, whether it’s employment or family or school or relationships or whatnot. Some of the problems get solved, and a lot don’t. At least not in ways that are convenient or otherwise things that are “nice and fluffy.” There’s no puppy or reward for completing some of these issues. New problems come up to replace the old ones. While I like being a problem-solver, the solutions that I see to the problems are things that I can’t do anything about.

Maybe my worldview actually isn’t that bad. I do everything that I know to do, and I have faith in grace. I try to have a lot of patience because my life is non-ending pressure, and there isn’t adequate outlet for it. I don’t know anyone who is happy-go-lucky all the time. Attitude does have a lot to do with it, however.  Everywhere I go, I’m expected to be an example of my belief system. To literally live my religion as well as I can. People have perceptions of those in my religion that could be anything, and a favorable impression is the best thing that we can do.

We don’t persecute others and wish not to be persecuted. I feel sorry for politicians who ascribe to my belief system as politics is non-ending catfights and sorrow. I love peace, quiet when wanted, and a time to dance in positive manners when possible also.

Anything that isn’t perfectly in accordance with my belief system in my life makes me upset. This isn’t necessarily about other’s actions very often, but about my actions. Of late, there are myriad examples of things are not in perfect accord but all of them require things that are not under my control to correct them. I have built my own puddles and walls but I don’t own ladders and don’t have bridges. There is honestly no way that I can save myself (ha. not possible to save yourself, no, but wanting to make up for things- that is where I fall flat on my face and break my nose no matter how much I want to repent.) Saying that you’re sorry often is not enough on these things. It is paying things back bit by bit. I just don’t have the ability to do so now. That is the reason that I want a job besides paying bills.

It feels like the math concept where a line can get so close to zero, but never quite gets there. I feel frustrated that I will never get where I need to should be. Although I am grateful for where I’ve gotten so far, all that I can ever see is where I am insufficient and it compounds when looking at the different aspects of life. I see all of my errors and how I don’t have ways of fixing them. Some of these errors have been around for a while. While none of them bar me from participation in religious activities, I’m sick of having my soul eaten up by acidic pain, remorse, or guilt over things that I would change in an instant had I ability.

It’s like looking at the homeless people when going on or coming off highways or at major intersections and seeing their signs and not being able to do anything about it because of being on low fuel and not having cash or otherwise ability to do anything. I don’t care whether someone did things to get to the point where they’re at. Who hasn’t? God doesn’t look at someone and says, “Oh, you did this to yourself. I’m not helping you.” He looks at them, shows compassion, and helps them get to a better place: training or something else that changes people and helps them toward a better life. I desperately want to be better and to be clear, and it’s not happening. Prison isn’t just for cell inmates. I talk to God a lot, and He doesn’t bug me about the things that I haven’t been able to change. I think that He knows that I know them well and want to fix them and don’t have a clue how to do it currently besides what I’m already trying. I typically come back with more things to do, and my feet feel bashed because I don’t see how I can get them done when I need to get these things done…somehow.

When you’re capable, it seems like you become more alone. People expect more of you, and sometimes you have extremely kind friends who help you get from A to B, but most of the time expectations are that you will figure it out for yourself. That you will do something that will save yourself, or that you won’t mess up or somehow that you will see any or all dangers and not make any mistakes. Nothing will really get to you; somehow you’re superhuman. That is RIDICULOUS thinking. It sets an extremely unfair double standard on people and makes it close to impossible to recover. The world is a very cruel, cold, lonely, bitter place.

So, all of those judgements, whether they come from others (often the case), or come from internal sources (people usually tell me that I’m too hard on myself, but I figure that it’s better me being hard on myself versus someone else being hard on me- beat them to the punchline, as it were), it’s a LOT of pressure. Saturday and yesterday, besides asking whether or not I was happy, I had people who told me that I needed to de-stress. I would if I could, but I can’t, so… I can’t. I am responsible for myself. I have extremely good friends who are kind and thoughtful, but the only person putting me first is me. And that doesn’t work out that well, either. There’s only so much self-talk that a person can do to feel better, work harder, or otherwise keep going. I do believe in infinite capacity and that God can do miracles and all. I just wish that they came before I was literally falling head-first at the ground and I can’t see anything to catch me.

The falling head-first without security is how I have felt starting in 2005, but was more apparent after 2008. But that’s when everyone lost security and safety. 9/11 was the beginning of restrictions in the name of safety, but trying to be a good person, trying to pay bills, and advance in life feels like trudging through the swamp in the Never-Ending Story where it’s just almost too depressing for words. Governments are destroying themselves, laws are passed that give no one any rights and take rights away, and people are dying more often now than before no matter what kinds of medical breakthroughs attempt to extend life longer. My generation is not doing better than my parent’s generation even though their generation expects it and says there is something wrong with us if that isn’t happening immediately.

I miss being part of a family. Miss a support system that kept me safe. I was brought up so well, and I received such an incredible education. My home life was amazing, but there were definitely flaws, most of which I didn’t know until I was out of the house. Now, my generation feels lost. We want to hold to something. Anything with a feeling of permanence to it. I’m a little surprised that anyone gets married anymore, even though I definitely believe in marriage and people having families.

I see other people who can figure it out (jobs, families, progression in life), and on one side wonder either what’s wrong with me, or else what can I do to change things? (meaning changing myself, not wanting to change them.) That’s about the time when I put my faith back in the tool belt and keep on walking because I can still walk and I don’t know what else to do. If I was sick in addition to my current maladies, I think I’d break. I may be sick, but I haven’t been able to get to a doctor for a long time and I do my utmost to try to stay at least symptomatically-healthy. There may be worse things going on, but I literally can’t afford to find out right now.

Guess there’s one thing left to do at that point. When at the end of the rope, make a knot, and hold on tight. I have nothing left but faith, and maybe an Internet connection if I can pay the bill.

Best to all,


Observations on Faith

I am definitely Christian, and I go to two Catholic schools. I like studying in a very quiet and picturesque reading room that was the old library at one of my schools. The reading room adjoins a chapel.

Considering my undergrad institution: while it may look more utilitarian in the rooms, all of them are used as chapels and Sunday School rooms and similar on Sundays and for other Church activities and meetings during the week in addition to regular classes during the week, without regular classes held on Sundays. Growing up, I was used to my religion and I learned history enough to see divisions and splits in other religions and just to watch what happened in the developments of other churches over time. Call it the “change over time” principle espoused by traditional historians.

I know that there are some people who are active in their beliefs, and others who don’t care at all. Since I am open to hearing anyone’s beliefs, I seem to know a lot of people who are atheists talking to me on a regular basis. I am respectful, but it is wearing as they try to convert me to their viewpoint without exception. My generation is not known for their religious conviction, but for turning away from religion in many cases. Sitting in my study room, there is an open mass happening nearby. The inter-faith room is also close by, inhabited regularly by students of Muslim background. My guess is that some of the other people studying in my reading room have that background, from looking around.

I was caught off-guard yet pleased when I found out last week that a friend was not attending class due to a Jewish high holy day. Honestly, that’s cool. My current colleagues in my department at my other school are also really open when it comes to being cool with religion, and although no one else has said anything, my religion became known and they’re nice and accommodating.

Today, I wonder about Catholicism. Doesn’t hurt that an attractive male walked into the mass. Although dressed in normal campus clothes, he tapped into the basin of holy water and knelt down to cross himself before entering the chapel. He’s the youngest person I saw walk in there and he seems to know all of the outward actions of the mass. Appears to be a “good Catholic” which is what I’m guessing they call people who are orthodox. I’m not sure, though.

People being orthodox in their religious faiths is something that I admire. Usually, they’re nicer and more open than people who are trying to get me to think otherwise, despite mass media interpretations of everyone of faith being dogmatic disciplinarians without senses of humor who are more likely to kill you than consider you as a person.

It’s not cool to be religious, but I find it useful and helpful for my life. Not as a crutch, ever, but as something that helps me be myself. I do believe in God. I believe in Jesus Christ, Heavenly Father, and the Holy Ghost. My beliefs are not the same as the kid sitting in that chapel on some of the finer points of practice, but I admire and respect a kid who at least attempts showing up to church. Few people do so. It’s not entertainment, but it is cause for celebration. I may never know his name or anything about him other than that he exists and that he went to mass on a Wednesday, but I am glad that he showed up today.

Best to all from



I write this post with a little of a heavy heart. Recounting what happened this summer to a former friend, I realized that this summer there has been my car accident, two friend’s parents died, two friends went through surgery (one brain surgery), I found out that my Mom’s best friend is dying, and that my family has bigger issues than I realized.

Last year, both schools acted like I was a traitor for not being “only at one school” when THEY were the ones that set up the joint program in the first place. It was like siblings fighting over toys. Now, I am no longer part of a joint program, but still doing two Master’s degrees at the same time. My present degrees dovetail better than my previous degrees did, and where scheduling may not fit with one, I then get material in the other. I feel like I am pulling up a zipper and whatever this clothing item is fits nicely.

I am no longer being split apart. It is harder in some aspects because neither school naturally communicates with the other, but I finally got over that at the end of last year and decided that if I was going to do this, I had to keep up and do it on my own. I work as hard as I can with my advisors, but in the end these degrees depend upon my coursework and not on anyone else’s work, ambition, or similar things.

Along with this is the need for a job. I had one job, and then another opportunity presented itself. That opportunity evaporated, and although I may be able to get the old job back, the commuting costs versus the pay and hours did not come together well. I need something else.

School feels steady. I am only starting the semester, but along with that I feel like there is a genuinely secure feel even though nothing is truly set up. Why am I so calm? Why have I been pretty calm through all of the employment shifts and changes? The only thing that really shook me up was the family trouble, and somehow that has to work out. I think that I am extremely lucky that it is the beginning of the semester, and I need and am able to get something together instead of feeling like I am only ending up somewhere.

Despite or because of all of the insanity of the summertime, I feel surprisingly calm. Not exactly happy, but somehow dealing. Not neutral, exactly, just… to quote from the Bible, “I know in whom I have trusted.” (gentle paraphrasing), so I’m not freaking out quite so badly as is customary in a dead economy when nothing really makes that much sense. Pressing forward even when there isn’t time to process life. I guess it’s called growing up.

Best to all,


Moments to Be Grateful for: Recent Semester Review

It’s the end of my first semester of grad school. I am surprised at how fast it all went by. I started out being terrified, and after trying some things on a whim, they worked out exceeding my best expectations.

Coinciding with this is my first avid use of Twitter and I adore it. It’s a place where I’ve learned quickly that not much gets filtered, (unless there’s something that I don’t know), and I’m starting to not be nervous as my personal and professional lives intertwine in ways that I never expected. Parts of my life already bled between atmospheres, but I am re-learning that you get back what you put towards others. The more-positive I become about life, the more wonderfully or beautifully infectious the thoughts processes become. Bottom line? I’m in love with grad school and so grateful that I felt to come to Chicago back in ’06. It took a really long time to get here, but I’m here and I adore this place. The people are nicer than I ever expected, the driving as intense as I like it, and the food is fabulous, albeit more expensive than I wish. My schools are a beautiful blend of city meets suburbia and I can’t get over how much I love the  thing. The people, the day, the feel of it all is better than I ever planned for myself.

Being a temple worker is also exactly what I need. During the LUC conference, one of the questions that the commentator posed was about the theological aspects to the topic. I purposely left out most of it. Although I could give him very solid answers for any theological questions that he has about LDS family history, the thought was not to over-explain but to simply be cool with it. I am very much willing to discuss any belief in question. Although I am not unequal or uncommitted, there wasn’t a strong need to delve into the theology at that forum.

I am extremely grateful for the respectful response that the paper generated. Because of this, I can move and continue scholarship. This past week there was a reading for Oral History class that dealt with the lives of people who live in Mexico, revolving around an oil boom/bust period called Mexican Lives. Part of what I read made me think of people who win the lottery. When you’re not used to having money, it gets to you and you blow it quickly. There are options for you that were never available before and it’s nearly a manically high feeling attached. At least, that’s what is reported. After taxes, it’s this big spending spree that normally leaves people in worse condition than previously. I do not wish to denigrate anyone who has won a lottery, but that is the stereotype. So, yes, the money got to the heads of the people in charge and financially destroyed the country before it had anywhere to go.

There are also the social implications inherent in a society where it is taught that there is a Mediator figure or a Savior in terms of the people of the society expecting someone else to save them. I agree with needing a Mediator, and there is a crucial need for a Savior, specifically Jesus Christ. I am a fan of grace, and believe that my works are a result of believing in grace. Feel free to disagree. No problems.

I definitely have nothing whatsoever against the Catholic Church, the major Church background of Mexico and much of the world. My family was Catholic in earlier generations, and I go to Catholic schools. Far be it for me to ever rant on another person’s religion. When you’ve been a minority your whole life then you know that what you appreciate and love more than anything else in the world is not appreciated by everyone. You don’t mean to be defensive. It’s just that you never know what other people’s experience is with your religion, how people practiced the religion or didn’t, and you have to have faith that your own life is your best “defense” against nay-sayers while still admitting and acknowledging your own humanity.

It’s also another thing that people who are not my religion hold people of my faith to a higher standard. What I do gets scrutinized regularly, and I expect it. I have to be an honorable person, and still open-minded and positive. It’s a fine balancing line, and you just pray that who you really are comes out in a positive way as people see you. The whole “by their fruits” notion. I want to be honorable. I expect that my life can be happy now, and I am grateful for the good moments. It’s not always going to be happy all the time, but I think that it’s a combination of attitude about the potential trial and being okay with it.

During the final for a class presentation this past week I knew that I wanted to present a short video on current museum practices and a spec spreadsheet for the technical aspects of the digital needs of the historical society we were trying to help. The sound in the presentation room wasn’t working. Under a lot of pressure for this final to get everything together and for it to work right. There was a point where it appeared as if nothing could be done and I was stuck without half of my five minutes. A call to the IT person later, the problem got solved. While waiting for the little miracle, two of my presentation group partners did their absolute best to help out. At one point, I was so scared that I was sipping water in rapid succession from the drinks table. I was sitting at the main table, being quiet, trying not to freak out and sipping water non-stop. This was not content anxiety but technological disability anxiety. One of my presentation partners saw this, got up from his space at the large table where we were all sitting, and tried to help again even though there was nothing that any of us could do at this point. Both of the guys in my group worked hard to get the sound to work. Although I couldn’t express nearly adequate thanks for their efforts, I guess that this is the best that I can do now. I went over time and in a moment of hypersensitivity afterwards, and sent the group an apology email for going over time. The IT guy fixed the sound, and things started, albeit ten minutes late.

The moments that mattered to me in all of this were my group members trying to help even when it appeared that there was no hope whatsoever, and then my praying a lot while sipping water that it would work out. Finally, it worked and I was extremely happy for it. My part of the presentation was long, and as-mentioned above I felt badly about that. In wanting to make sure that I didn’t step on anyone’s toes, I went a little overboard.

It was interesting to see how much of people’s personalities came out in the presentations. I’m the girl that likes the tech and likes multi-media presentations even if I’m behind the times. I also like to give people a solution that they can implement tomorrow if need be. Everyone else has their pet projects and similar things, and the evolution of the class over the course of the semester was enlightening, rather uplifting, and I learned a lot. Those were God’s core expectations for me while in Chicago. I don’t think that they are done yet, perhaps, but it was rewarding to see changes in behavior from my first crash-and-burn horrific presentation to the multi-media slash-through that felt up-to-the-second current. It was a great change.

How I feel about Chicago has also changed a lot. I went from loving it to wishing I wasn’t here or anywhere, to being given the space and opportunities to grow into where I am. I have one last paper/presentation/take-away materials final left and I’m still in love. This is an experience is never to be forgotten, but cherished for the wonderful thing that it is. If a man could make me feel as alive as this city does, that would be incredible.

I respect my classmates more than they will ever know and I care about who they are as people. As of this upcoming Thursday, I must have my work done and that is paramount to anything else besides what I need to do for Church. Priorities come in their proper forms, I hope. One friend mentioned that she read the blog and so I will return to the focus on the practical aspects of family history. My whole life has to do with various forms of public history, and so I will try to make things better for tips on how to do this seemingly simple and dynamically complex field. Till next blog, I am,

The Genealogy Doctor

Twitter, Grad School, and Teaching Thoughts

I’ll keep this bare and stripped down since I need to get back to my transcription work. There is only one class in Oral History at my university (afaik.) I want more of it. There is not enough time to teach enough about this distinct, nuanced field. My teacher does his solid best, and he and the class are impressive beyond words. Doing this (transcription work), though, is another thing entirely. I am in love with the practical aspects of history and I soak it up like fresh-baked baklava and honey.

Being active on Twitter this past week, my mind feels like it’s riding a great wave. There are so many organizations and other things for digital humanities and history in general that I had no idea about. My undergrad ended nearly four years ago, and there was a lull of creativity during the interim due to other jobs and unemployment doldrums. You never see what is out there until you have a medium showing it to you, albeit indirectly.

I think that I am an idiot for having resisted Twitter for so long, but stubbornness needs changing through education. Wow, WHAT an education! I am not sure that I am learning so much due to opportunity, due to lack of opportunity and thus trying to absorb at almost alarming speed, or what. I haven’t felt this happy about life since I interned in New York five years back. Although other people who I worked with were avid social media early adopters, I did not see much use to Twitter until now. I was even annoyed by the Twitter ads all over the place. Resisting new media does not help. Being a part of it and leading the discussions, or at least listening does. I have relatives that are not part of any social media whatsoever. It’s ironic due to their jobs. But the privacy that my family ensconced in me as a child is dead. I understand social protocols, and there are many levels to my privacy settings. However, anyone who thinks that all of their information is private does not realize what is out there. You either control your own media, or someone else may do it for you. In another case of family, one adopted one form of media and not another. My sister and I split our media streams down between the two mega-providers of T and FB.

Due to a recent class in Museum Mgmt, I finally listened to the presenter (who obviously knew her stuff) and her mentioning that she got her earliest news that way… My currency on news media stopped when I went to college. Between lack of time for television and otherwise filtered reporting in the great and open spaces west, I was news starved for some time. I knew that things were happening, most of which I could ignore. It’s as if my brain went into isolation mode for about eight years to a decade, but specifically since ’05. Due to various family needs at the time and my reactions to them, it probably did.

It feels like I am back on the planet again. I don’t know that many people who talk about news that much. Most of the time I normally assume now that everyone knows what’s going on, and frequently knows it better than I do. That is usually the case. I’ve been out of the loop for a few years. Feeling like an antiquated zombie is not in my best interests.

Due to the immediacy of knowledge, it becomes instantly passe. Thus, people do not talk about it unless it is chatting online/news feeds. This limited face-to-face interaction was unheard of…even a decade ago. It is such a strange phenom for a culture that says that it wants social connection. More like generations of watchers. We can see things and we can make snide remarks or not comment at all if we do not want more interaction with the topic, but what about building something better versus cutting down and slashing and burning something?

Yes, I am an unusual graduate student who hates being snide. I do not see a use to it, but I have to swim with the PhD’s and the people who otherwise could intimidate me out of the program. One of my programs is more “touchy-feely” and the school is small enough as a nice, suburban place. I got there and I felt like I’m in a little nice cocoon, protected. Yes, it’s grad school, but it’s softer. The other school is sink or swim. The candidates in the second program know their stuff and make you fight to keep up. It’s challenging as all-get out and reminds me a lot of my undergrad institution. You either make it or break it. If you make it, you fly. I don’t want to think about breaking it. The people who go to this school are smart, savvy, opinionated (in some cases), and otherwise give me a run for my tuition.

I presented a paper at this school for a conference. The first positive public reception to the topical love of my life, family history/genealogy, dumb-founded me. These people aren’t my religion. Due to geographic density and age/marital-demographic, I would go to Church with them if they were, so I would know it. These people have no connections to my topic, but they were more respectful than most of the people who I know. My treatment was as someone who had relevancy. This has only happened a few times in my niche groups, and so I it took me off-guard in the most pleasant way possible. Perhaps I was a little defensive going into it. My topic is more-niche than most, and in the historical field it is traditionally seen with a derision that makes boiling oil look pleasant.

My commentator changed my life with a simple email and phone call. He thought that the topic was great, and after the conference (which, as stated above went over enormously well considering the pressures I was under to get the paper ready, perfected, and updated from a senior thesis of four years earlier;) he met with me about further work in the topic of my paper. It’s as if the topic is seeing new eyes in the field. I am so glad and grateful. Fighting for this for my entire college academic career (much longer than most people’s), I feel like for the first time I am coming into my own. Twitter and the resources there are opening things up for me that did not exist years ago. Although I don’t have funding for it, I’m even considering a PhD. If I could find funding, then why not? A teacher of mine in the undergrad once remarked to the class that she got her PhD at 40. This surprised most of the class. She said that she was going to turn 40 anyway, so why not? I’m kind of in a similar boat. I love learning more than almost anything. Good things, good people. The Masters degrees will probably put me in hock for the rest of my life anyway. I didn’t think about being a professor, and still don’t, honestly..

It may not work, but I’ve thought of ways to teach classes in Family History to undergrads. Maybe not the same way that BYU teaches it, because honestly, you don’t have to know the ecclesiastical to do well in it. Just that I was thinking of how to present such information to a bunch of teenagers. Well, older teenagers but people with the same mind-set. It’s different from how to present it to children or to older adults. I taught Sunday School on the topic for around five years, and my typical presentation has  entertainment value. No one has ever seen me present like that out here. It’s candid, but a little abrupt and needs refinement. I haven’t taught in a long time, either. It’s a persona, performing. Although performing like that is fun, it does not translate into the personality that I want to have when not in lecture mode. I like the idea of being strong, but being a kinder, gentler person. Teachers have the line and they play along it, but I don’t know how to put it forth for an undergrad audience where it will translate well. I guess I just haven’t taught in a long time.

That was more than I was planning to write, and I need to get to my section of the transcription and then make key lime pies for tomorrow. There’s a part of me that can’t stop writing, loves it, wants to do more of it, and when not posting on social media I am looking up information to write something else or hw. My life is busy, complicated, and I feel like I fall in love regularly. But it’s good. My life is the best that it has been in an extremely long time and I want to express sincere gratitude for that. Everything may fall apart tomorrow, but I am happy with what I am doing now.

~The GenealogyDr