I would kill for a book collection like this someday.

My favorites.

Copyright National Geographic

Haiti.

Did you know that if you are considered of the "middle class" in America, you are part of 12% of the richest people in the world? It may not seem that way, considering that middle class Americans face financial problems everyday. But if you look at a country like Haiti, where 80% of the people live in extreme poverty, you might think again the next time you complain about not having enough cute clothes, or a new car. Haiti is not only the poorest country in the Western hemisphere to date, but it is the most unequal as well. A small group of no more than several thousand families are extremely wealthy...and when I say wealthy, I mean ridiculously wealthy, sending their children to Paris and the US for school. The majority of poor that inhabit Haiti is overwhelming, and they realistically have no hope of ever seeing anything different in their lifetime, or those of their offspring. In Port-au-Prince, the slums are even grimmer, where people can expect to earn no more than the equivalent of $2 US dollars a day. Hardly enough to buy food, let alone other necessities. In the markets, mud cakes are sold for 3cents each...and they are exactly what they sound like...mud. Something to fill your stomach?

Ironically enough, I drafted this post on January 4th...and forgot about it, until now, after the largest earthquake in 200 years hits HAITI of all places...it is awful that it takes a catastrophic event to shed light on this country, but at least they are getting help. If you arent doing anything to contribute, well you should be....and maybe not for this cause, but for another one. Haiti isnt the only country that needs help, ours does too, and there is plenty that can be done to help people who have nothing living in our own backyards.

Here are some ways you can donate your time:

www.standupforkids.org

www.nationalcasa.org

www.projecthope.org

www.alphaproject.org

Change of Scenery

Kids of the Bahamas.

Alexa, Ryan, me, and Jack.

Alexa floating along.

This Christmas, my family and I ventured down to the Bahamas. We started out in Nassau and then traveled by boat to the Exumas, which are a chain of fairly uninhabited islands. Needless to say it was absolutely beautiful and a refreshing escape from normalcy.

"And it's like being hit by a truck-- over and over again. But you stay in the road. Because when you aren't being hit by a truck, the road is the best place in the world to be."

The Invitation by Oriah

It doesn’t interest me
what you do for a living.
I want to know
what you ache for
and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me
how old you are.
I want to know
if you will risk
looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me
what planets are
squaring your moon...
I want to know
if you have touched
the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened
by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know
if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know
if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations
of being human.
It doesn’t interest me
if the story you are telling me
is true.

I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear
the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know
if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me
who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me
where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know
what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know
if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like
the company you keep
in the empty moments.

By Oriah © Mountain Dreaming,
from the book The Invitation
published by HarperONE, San Francisco,
1999 All rights reserved

Rebecca Medrano sent me this poem and I thought it was beautiful.

"You know what my fear is? One day, we'll pass each other on the street somewhere and have that...artificial conversation." -Down to You