Ancora Imparò

Ancora imparò - Italian for "I'm still learning." A fellow zoo volunteer taught me that phrase recently and I think it fits me well.

If you read my last post, Shpilkes, you know that I've been contemplating ways to keep myself busy, engaged, and challenged; especially as we continue to deal with the COVID-19 pandemic. This is how I operate: any time that I am feeling restless or unfulfilled, I find something new to try. I've always loved learning new skills and it's easy for me to find interest in most topics. I suppose I want to be a renaissance man, a Michelangelo or Da Vinci.

Well, over the past few weeks, I've committed myself to a few new pursuits. Three, to be exact:

1) I've always wanted to learn to play guitar, piano, and drums, but I've never taken the first step to learn any of them. When Ramón, my exchange student last year, came to Colorado, I bought a new digital piano for him to practice. I thought that, if I make the investment, it will finally motivate me to learn. Listening to him play made me even more eager to start. I found a music school in Colorado that does lessons virtually and I'm now almost a month into playing. I get excited to play in the evenings after work because I want to progress quickly. I'm already getting better at playing some scales and a few tunes.

2) I have been on a waitlist for Denver Audubon's Community Naturalist Training for over two years now. I've never signed up because it has always conflicted with something else I am doing. It is a year-long course that covers things like geology, ecology, botany, meteorology, insects, birds, mammals, and all sorts of other animals. Once I finish the class, I am excited to use what I learn when volunteering at the zoo, as an educator (maybe start doing some wilderness therapy), or even in new roles as a naturalist guide or park interpreter. If nothing else, it will enhance my own experiences and observations when I am in nature.

3) I was so disappointed to learn a few weeks ago that my exchange student from Norway will not be able to have his exchange year because of COVID. I am hopeful that we can find another way to connect and for him to still experience Colorado and the US.
    Last year, while Ramón was here, I was encouraged to consider becoming an International Exchange Coordinator (IEC). In this role, I look for families in the community who are willing to host a high school student, help find students to match with these families, and support the students and families during the exchange year. Last week, I started my IEC application. I have also started looking for another student to host next school year. It seems like so long from now, but I am excited for students to come to the US again and I am hopeful that things will be better next fall. My experience as a host parent last year taught me a lot - about another culture, about myself, about being a parent. I am excited for the experience of hosting again and for the chance to experience it from another role.

Taking on these new things has made me more optimistic about the upcoming school year and about the future in general. While I know that there will still be some challenges - potentially some very big challenges - I am finding ways to make the best of an unfortunate situation. In fact, if it weren't for COVID putting a halt on much of my life over the past five months, I would probably not be doing the things I mentioned above. Life takes us in unexpected directions sometimes, and that's not always a bad thing.

People are afraid to pursue their most important dreams, because they feel that they don't deserve them, or that they'll be unable to achieve them. We, their hearts, become fearful just thinking of loved ones who go away forever, or of moments that could have been good but weren't, or of treasure that might have been found but were forever hidden in the sands. Because, when these things happen, we suffer terribly... The fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself. No heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dreams, because every second of the search is a second's encounter with God and with eternity.

-Paulo Coelho 

I recently read The Alchemist for the second time. I finished it in one day. It's a short book and it's easy to absorb in one sitting.

That book kept coming to mind because I remembered the feelings it stirred up in me the first time I read it. With all of the soul searching I've had time to do this summer, I needed some inspiration. I feel that I have several things in common with the main character, Santiago. He loves to travel and experience new adventures, and he spends a lot of time contemplating the meaning of things. He is a philosopher of sorts. He has many interests, too, and he has tried a number of different jobs. He doesn't consider his job his purpose in life; more of a means to an end. However, that doesn't keep him from working hard and appreciating the things he learns from each of his roles.

Santiago learns of the Personal Journey and he goes on a quest to fulfill his. On his journey, he is robbed a few times. He has to cross a desert to reach his goal. He meets a number of people and learns several new skills along the way. Several times, he doubts himself and he considers going back to his old life as a shepherd.

The past several months have felt like a desert. We've all been robbed of many things - time with people we love, rites of passage, long anticipated trips or events, and more. We are all learning to be more resilient.

Ultimately, Santiago meets the alchemist, a man who has learned the impossible task of transforming lead into gold. He gives Santiago direction and a renewed sense of purpose.

We may still have some miles to go before we're out of this desert, but I'm looking for ways to transform the experience. The desert is still part of the journey and, even in the desert, I can learn something new. Ancora imparò.

This is why alchemy exists, so that everyone will search for his treasure, find it, and then want to be better than he was in his former life. Lead will play its role until the world has no further need for lead; and then lead will have to turn itself into gold.

That's what alchemists do. They show that, when we strive to become better than we are, everything around us becomes better, too.

-Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

Shpilkes

My soul is impatient with itself, as with a bothersome child; its restlessness keeps growing and is forever the same. Everything interests me, but nothing holds me. I attend to everything, dreaming all the while... I’m two, and both keep their distance – Siamese twins that aren’t attached.       -Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

Last week, I went on a hike and got coffee with the rest of the mental health team from my school. The four of us talked about the ups and downs of the last several months among other things. It was much needed self-care for a group of people who have made a career out of caring for others.

One theme that kept surfacing in our conversation was that we've experienced a lot of restlessness and unease throughout this pandemic. While that may not be surprising, and while much of that unease is due to COVID itself, the pandemic seems to have raised some even bigger existential questions in us. It's caused us to reevaluate a number of things in our lives - our values, our priorities, and how we spend our time. I kept trying to describe the feeling I was having unsuccessfully until, at one point, my colleague said "we've got shpilkes."

Shpilkes?

If you ever watched SNL's Coffee Talk (thank you 90s sketch comedy), you've heard it before. You know, when Paul Baldwin developed shpilkes in his genechtagazoink. Aside from the flagrant cultural insensitivity, Linda Richman (Mike Myers) makes clear that sometimes "le mot just" is in another language.

Shpilkes. It's a yiddish word that means pins. Like "sitting on pins and needles," it's a nervous energy, anxiousness, or restlessness that comes while waiting for something to happen. It's a feeling of impatience or agitation.

Reflecting on the last four months, and reading through many of my blog posts, it's clear that I've had a pretty constant case of shpilkes since this virus entered the picture (and fairly often before that, too). All of the uncertainty and the abrupt changes have felt paralyzing. Waiting for answers about what is to come has felt torturous at times and long anticipated things continue to be cancelled or postponed. I've found myself looking for new things to do - things that will keep me busy, take my mind off of the pandemic, and things over which I have some control. As we all know, those things have been hard to come by.

Every so often, I get this same feeling. It's like an itch that I need to scratch - a need for doing something new. It could be trying a new hobby, visiting a new place, or taking on some new endeavor. It usually happens when I feel like my life has become stagnant and I need a new challenge. Once I have an idea, I can't leave it alone until I've thoroughly researched it and decided to either do it or realized that it's not for me. My first blog post last October talked a lot about this: I often find myself asking the question "what's next?"

I believe this "itch" is what caused me to go back to school multiple times for new degrees. It's what led me to volunteer at the Birds of Prey foundation years ago and, more recently, at the Denver Zoo. It's why I decided to be a "Big Brother" and why I decided to start hosting foreign exchange students. It's why I've had a number of random jobs like teaching driver's ed and working as a lifeguard and archery instructor at a camp in West Virginia one summer. It's why I went on a conservation trip to Hawai'i last summer to learn about endangered birds and it's why I love taking my students on trips around the world. It's why I've had some unusual pets (like geckos) and why I bought a drum set and a piano.

Shpilkes can be a good thing. In healthy doses, it creates an unsettling feeling that forces us to act. It's a catalyst for change and for growth. For trying something new.

With this most recent case of shpilkes, I've been considering things I could do this fall to make up for cancelled plans. I've looked into taking some ecology classes through Denver Audubon or some photography classes to take my hobby to the next level. I've considered learning about my more recent interest in specialty coffee by taking a barista class or becoming a Q grader (like a sommelier for coffee). My interest in travel and experiencing new places even caused me to look into the qualifications for becoming a foreign service officer...

Maybe, though, I just need to have some patience...

If I do any of those things, I want it to be because I'm genuinely interested and excited for them, not because I'm just trying to distract myself from these challenging times. I go back to work next week and I think that planning for the new school year will keep me plenty busy. I've always appreciated the break that I get each summer working in a school, but this summer it's felt more like a liability. I've had too much time to spend with just my thoughts which has only made the shpilkes worse.

I am looking forward to the day when this virus is just a memory. Hopefully, we'll come out of this situation better prepared, smarter, more understanding, more compassionate, and more patient than we were before. Hopefully, we can salvage some of the things we've lost along the way.

While this situation continues to make me feel stir-crazy, at least I now have a word for it. I don't know if/how I'll scratch the itch this time. Sometimes, though, just naming our emotions helps us feel better. It doesn't change the situation, but at least I can call it for what it is.

I've got shpilkes.