BE: RECLAIMED, TRANSFORMED, and CONSISTENT.

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Welcome to 2019. It’s only 9 days old, but let me tell you: I’m already loving it so much more than the three years before.

New Year’s Eve has been a time of grief for me these last two years. It was on NYE 2016 that my world turned upside down and NYD 2017 that by best friends abandoned me. So, it’s not really surprising that, given the meaning of New Year’s for me and the fact that I had gotten a little off on my med schedule, I had a minor breakdown this year on NYE. My poor mother was terrified, but I knew that I was really fine. I was crying and shaking, but I knew that this wasn’t me, it was a disease that I hadn’t properly worked with for a couple days. I fell asleep around 8 or 9, knowing that sleep would bring the stability that my limited neuro-transmitters couldn’t provide. When I woke up around 3am on January 1, I celebrated by myself the beginning year that I have decided will be my year.

I think it’s kind of fitting, this less than auspicious beginning to 2019 because I think it’s the story that I’m going to tell myself over and over this year. This disease is not me. This trauma is not me. I’m okay. I’m alive. I’m held in the palm of His hand.

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Every year I choose a word for the year. To be honest, as a general practice, I’ve failed at embracing my word in the past. 2017 was obedience and trust, but I failed to obey or trust or even want to be alive at all that year. 2018 was focus, but my main focus became getting well and healing from not one, but two bouts of mono. I tried, but failed. This year will be different, I can tell already. My word is BE and I’ve chosen three subwords: RECLAIMED, TRANFORMED, and CONSISTENT. I’m reclaiming all those pieces of me that I lost during the break up from hell. I’m reclaiming hobbies, friendships, and dreams that I lost. I’m transforming them and my life into the life I want—my best life. The really hard part, the part I’m scared of and know I will struggle with daily, is being consistent. I struggle with consistency, mostly because of my illnesses mentioned above. I want to be a consistent teacher, grader, blogger, artist, friend, etc., but it’s hard. It requires rest and time management and energy. But I know I can do it. I have an accountability system that will hold me to it. (Love you, chicas.)

I have a long list of goals for the year, mostly the same goals from my 30 by 30, which I’ve decided is really 30 by the end of 30, not the beginning, because who knew a year ago that I would have mono? Not me. I’ll probably share some of those goals later this year, but for now I’m focusing on my words.

BE: RECLAIMED, TRANSFORMED, and CONSISTENT.

What are your words for 2019?

On New Years Goals, My Birthday, and the start of a year that I’m planning to rock!

Photo by NordWood Themes on Unsplash

2018 Goals

So, it’s January 16th. Yes, people, that means that we are halfway through the first month of 2018. Stressed yet?

I haven’t written yet about my 2018 goals, but I do want to share those with you. 2018 is going to be a big year for me and I’m planning to rock this year so well that it makes up for the absolute disaster that was 2017. Good riddance, year of awfulness.

So, 2018.

My word for 2018 is FOCUS. I want to focus on the things most important to me: my family and friends, research, teaching, self-care, and creativity.

My goals this year fall into three categories: Adventures I want to have, Projects I want to finish, and ongoing goals that I want to work on.

Photo by Matthew Sleeper on Unsplash

 

Adventures:

  • See family in Rolla
  • Attend SP meeting in June
  • Attend Go Wild 2018
  • Go to a museum
  • Go to zoo with H, M, and V
  • Go to one non-ALR reading
  • Volunteer 6 times

 

Projects:

  • Interview dad
  • Read 10 nonfiction, non academic books this year
  • Etsy
  • Submit article for publication
  • Apply to a job
  • Finish a draft of my dissertation
  • Digitalize all my files
  • Declutter my apartment
  • Get rid of 300 things in 2018
  • Curate a capsule wardrobe
  • Supplement regimen
  • Stamp inventory
  • Books organized and database updated
Photo by Andrew Neel on Unsplash

Photo by Andrew Neel on Unsplash

Photo by Patrick Fore on Unsplash

Photo by Patrick Fore on Unsplash

Ongoing goals:

  • Keep up with grading and teaching work
  • Find a spiritual community
  • Become a budgeting badass
  • Master the art of Meal prep
  • Re-immerse myself into the liturgical year
  • Year-long spending fast (oh, yes, I will write about this in another post)

In addition to these, I have a few daily, weekly, and monthly rituals I’m trying to turn into habits, most notably a Bible reading plan with my soul-sister, B.

Operation: Birthday Reclamation

Photo by Luca Upper on Unsplash

Photo by Luca Upper on Unsplash

Given that it’s January 16th, most people who know me know that it’s the day after my birthday. And this was an important one for me, given that it was one year ago on my birthday that someone I really trusted said something awful to me—the worst thing I could imagine and the worst she could probably have said at that time. So this year, I set out with a few good humans to reclaim my birthday.

First, I went to Starbucks with my friend, M. Then, my close friends and I celebrated by going to a favorite restaurant, walking around favorite shops, and sharing gluten free crepes at a new favorite place recommended by my dear friend and adopted brother, T. It might sound like such a simple thing, but for me it was a huge blessing. At one point during the meal, I looked around and saw the faces of my beloved friends and thought—these people care enough about me to sacrifice their last day off before the semester, drive 30 minutes, pay for an expensive meal, and walk around a stationery shop all just to celebrate my birthday. It’s humbling to be loved so much and I’m so grateful.

Genuinely the best friends I could ask for. So sad B. wasn't able to make it! (Photo by random lady at Daiso.)

Genuinely the best friends I could ask for. So sad B. wasn't able to make it! (Photo by random lady at Daiso.)

It is also a reminder to me that we can never know what God has in store for us. A year ago, I thought my life would never get better, that I would never heal or be able to trust again. A year ago, I did not even know three of those friends. All three of them were brought into my life during 2017—and our friendships cemented largely because of Gary. And the rest--even though I knew them—have become so much more important to me in the last year. It’s been a long, hard road and there were many times that I wasn’t sure I would make it (and neither were they), but I’ve finally hit a stride where I feel strong and healthy and—dare I say it?—happy. There are still many struggles ahead and I still have rough days, but I just keep thinking about that saying—it’s a bad day, not a bad life.

2018 will be my year

Photo by Garrhet Sampson on Unsplash

This is what I keep saying. When my friends and I are stressed, I repeat it over and over. 2018 will be our year. I’ve seen that celebrities have claimed it will be the year of women. I’m not sure about that, but I fully believe that something is going to change for the better for me and for my close friends. And it’s going to change because we’re going to work hard.

As you’ve probably noticed, I’ve become a lot more into planning and the planner community. In case you didn’t know, I even founded the Denton Planner Girls group on facebook! We have regular meet ups and it’s so much fun. I’m really getting back into my creative side and I’m finding bullet journaling to be particularly therapeutic. I definitely think that getting into planning has made me more confident—and for good reason! When I’m constantly seeing words like “Hustle,” “Boss Babe,” and “Goal Digger,” it’s hard not to start thinking in those terms. This led me to invite M. to join me in the Wild Sisterhood—my first year back since I came to Denton. I have a lot of plans for this year beyond me goals above, including starting my own business, and I think that becoming a Wild Sister will help me with those goals. You’ll hear more about that in the future. But for now, just know—2018 is going to be my year. I hope it’s yours, too. 

 

And, in case you missed it on my social media:

Photo by Heidi Cephus. 

Photo by Heidi Cephus. 

2014: A Year in Review

I came home tonight from an afternoon and evening spent with my best friend in Dallas, Mark, cherishing time together and reflecting over the last (couple of) years, the things that have changed, the things that are the same, and how we feel about a number of different things. When I got home, I found numerous Christmas cards filled with letters from friends, updating me on their lives. I don’t usually send those kinds of cards and I’m writing this blog in place of that.

Every New Year’s, I spend time in reflection over the last year and thinking about where I want to go in the new year. Since last year, I have added using Leonie Dawson’s amazing books to my New Year’s retreat (thanks, Hannah Bagnall, for introducing me to that!). The time in reflection is good for me. Usually, I keep that private, but this year so many things have happened and changed that I want to share some of them with my friends.

This time last year, I was actually in Irving, visiting dear friends and family over my Christmas break. I knew then what I had told very few people, that I would probably be leaving Indianapolis. I had just finished my application to UNT and after such precious time with loved ones, I found myself praying that I would end up at UNT over any of the other places I had applied to.

My last semester at Butler was complicated, but beautiful. I enjoyed a Nun Night where my beloved sisters came to visit my girls and we played board games. I took several students to the Woods for Alternative Spring Break to work at the White Violet Center for Eco-Justice (where I lived as a volunteer for five months in 2013 while preparing for my exams at Notre Dame) and they fell in love so much that we went back for the Earth Day celebrations. I told Father that I would be leaving Indiana and I faced his disappointment. I told my students that I was leaving and my heart ached as I watched some of them grieve. I dealt with the frustration of working with the Archdiocese to find my replacement—they were slow to move and Father and I lived in fear that the community we had built would be left without support. I was included in interviews and listened to students talk about their fears for the future. It was a true practice in humility and detachment, and I am grateful for the growing experience of leaving a ministry that I continue to love and miss very much.

I know some have heard me talk about the negative aspects of my ministry at Butler and I want to take the chance to explain some of that. If you already know all this or simply don’t care about why I left Butler, you can skip the next few paragraphs.  While there were many parts of my life in Indianapolis that I hated, my students were never one of them. I loved them immensely and continue to love them and pray for them, but I am glad to know that they are under the wings of someone much more suited to that life than I am right now. In Indianapolis, I struggled to make friends because of my crazy ministry schedule, my need for introvert time with an extremely extroverted job, and my inability to find many people outside of my sisters and friends from Echo that had similar interests. I am infinitely grateful for the friends I did have—my sisters, friends from Echo, and ministry friends at Butler as well as St. Thomas Aquinas Parish. I never could have made it through that last year without them—and not only did I survive, I enjoyed moments of great happiness. Please do not think I lived my whole time there miserable and alone in the world.

My last year in Indianapolis, I lived alone. That was a great decision, because I was coming out of a very negative and hurtful community experience and needed space to heal. Sometimes I was lonely, but fortunately I had the community of the Retreat in Daily Life that I was participating through Providence Center at St. Mary of the  Woods (which included two sisters, one who is 92(!), and two other young women about my age). My friend Annie, who was brave enough to embark on this 30 week retreat with me, would come to my office and together we would skype the other women. I treasured the time we would spend after the meeting, talking and dreaming together.

The diocese of Indianapolis, while it succeeds with some social justice issues and the larger parishes work to address poverty, is an overwhelmingly conservative diocese. Because every person who works for the diocese signs a paper stating that we will not “promote or support any ideas contrary to Church teaching,” I found it hard to be myself and be open, even with my friends outside of the office. My first two years in Indianapolis, I lived in fear of my community because the members of my community had expressed disapproval of my spirituality (including not only my prayer style, but my relationship with the Sisters of Providence) and “concern for my soul” on a regular basis. My last year, I lived in fear because if someone took something I said offhand and reported it to the diocese I could lose my job and have no recourse. So, when I wasn’t with my sisters or the limited number of friends that I felt completely at home with, I was generally living with a mask. I loved my students and I enjoyed and appreciated my ministry friends, but I needed something else to add stability to my life. I am an introvert and can thrive on my own, but I am also a community-centered person. While loneliness is an inherent part of the human condition, it was the degree of my loneliness (and the depression I started to experience) that made me realize I needed to make a change. Added to this was the added strain of maintaining my diocese-approved mask, which made me feel like I was being dishonest and lacking integrity.

It wasn’t all like that, though. During my time in Indianapolis, my sisters were my saving grace. Their support and love through my times of confusion and pain were my source of strength. Their constant reminder to trust in Providence and meet with people where they are (as Jesus did), made me a better minister, person, and friend. In answer to the ever-popular question, yes, I have on many occasions thought about applying to become a Sister of Providence. I love being an associate and my relationship to that community is the most important in my life. The idea of growing old with my friends, living in community, and taking on a greater role in the community I love so dearly is certainly appealing. However, student loans and a predisposition to need autonomy (I would struggle greatly with a vow of obedience at this point in my life—we will all see what comes in the future) made it evident that path is not right for me, at least now.  I am not certain it will ever be my path, but only time will tell. I am happy with my life.

At the same time as my loneliness and frustrations were becoming evident to me, I realized something else. With the distance that a year without study (if you ignore the comprehensive exams I took in July 2013, as I did for almost the entire year before I took them) could provide, I realized that I missed being in school. I spent a lot of time in reflection about what I would want to study if I went back. I knew that I didn’t want to deal with another Classics department—I had heard too many stories about the cutthroat attitude in upper-level classics. Besides that, I would only really want to study Greek, but most programs require study of Latin as well. I also knew that theology is not for me. My experience of God is more relational and spiritual than rule based and, after my experiences at Notre Dame, I didn’t want to deal with theology people. This is not to say that I disrespect Theology or people who study it. On the contrary, one of my dear friends in Dallas is a theology professor and I have a lot of friends who are doing continued theology work. I just knew I didn’t have the patience or proper disposition for further study in Theology. I considered a D Min or a PhD in Spirituality, but knew that I would likely encounter the same issues as I did in ministry. I also considered simply applying for another ministry position (and did so), but I came to realize that I need time away from ministry and theology to heal and get myself together. I believe wholeheartedly that I will someday end up back in ministry for the Catholic Church—but I need time.

When I thought about it, I realized that the only thing I could really see myself teaching long term (and as my friend Greg Roper says, a PhD is just vocational school for teaching) is literature. After being prompted from my friend and mentor, Dr. Sommerfeldt, to consider my deepest passions, I realized that what I would really love is to study agrarian literature (think literature about farming and farm culture—The Georgics, Wendell Berry, Faulkner, that sort of stuff). I wasn’t sure that agrarian literature was actually a thing, but I quickly found that environmental literature, which includes agrarian literature and can include literature of the American South, was in fact something one can get a PhD in. And, miracle of miracles, the University of North Texas, only 40 minutes from my community of friends and family back in Irving, offers such a degree.

So, back to 2014. In March of 2014, I received the hoped-for acceptance letter to UNT along with an offer of a fellowship to teach two freshman comp courses each semester. I walked home, my heart pounding, and shared the news with my next door neighbors—the only people at Butler I could really tell until I formally resigned. After discernment and talking it over with my mom, my best friend, and my sisters, I sent back my response: an overwhelming YES.

While on ASB at the Woods, two different sisters let it slip in front of my students that I would be leaving Butler, but the official announcement was saved for April. By that time, most of my (very astute) students had already figured out that I was leaving. Some shed tears, others tried to hide their relief (hey, I never said I was popular with all of them!). All in all, they were supportive. Some even said they wished they could be in my classes.

I left Butler in June and packed up my house, which I had hoped to be living in long term and therefore had brought a lot of childhood mementos and things. My mom and a friend moved my belongings to Missouri while I drove to the Woods. As I drove onto the campus of Saint Mary of the Woods, I felt a huge weight leave my shoulders. I rested with my sisters and enjoyed our Annual meeting. I witnessed my dear friend Arrianne take her first vows and reminisced about how I had met her at a “Come and See” weekend before she even entered. I cherished time with my best friend, Hannah, and was grateful as my sisters, who were sad that I was moving so far away, were also supportive, happy, and excited for me. After the Annual Meeting was over, I left the Woods and drove to Missouri, where I spent an entire month anxious about this big step I had taken. I almost backed out of moving to Denton several times, but fortunately where I lost faith I had friends and family who had enough faith for two. (Besides that, where else would I go?)

I had searched for a roommate or place to live for a couple months while still at Butler and was relieved when a guy in UNT’s Environmental Philosophy PhD program asked me to move in with him. My students obsessively stalked him online (sorry Fabio) and my mother worried about her daughter moving in with a complete stranger. It turns out that her worries were in vain, because Fabio is wonderful and is literally the best roommate I have ever had (no joke). Our problems have been very few and I consider myself blessed. It was truly Providence that we got connected. I’m so grateful. I am also grateful that when I arrived at our tiny little house in August, my family (the Parent/Ponikiewskis) and my bestie, Mark, showed up to unload my car and my mom’s car.  My car was full and my mom’s car had traveled from Rolla, Missouri to Denton, Texas with my bed and mattress strapped to the roof (something I will never do again and don’t recommend). Mark, Mark, and Trevor quickly unloaded, Patty hung up hangers and clothes, Rachel helped everyone, and Randi mostly entertained us with Ranger, her dog (which was more important and necessary than you might think). I don’t know what we would have done without them. My mom stayed with me long enough to help me unpack and shop for the random things I needed. Then, she left and I became a UNT student for real.

Since I moved in, the last six months have been a blur. I went to Orientation with the English department, where I made my first set of friends at UNT. I settled into my desk in the Teaching Fellow office and got into a rhythm of going to class, teaching, grading, and studying. I have found that the people in the English Department are awesome, really without exception. I enjoy the friendly banter in the office and hope to continue to develop friendships with many of the other TFs, PhD candidates, and MA students.

I started going to Mass at UD after I found that the local parish wasn’t comfortable (it’s really big). It turns out that, for me at least, going to Mass at UD includes sitting with the Sommerfeldts, weekly hugs from Dr. Norris, and regular lunches with Anna, Andrew, Joe, and Irene. So, for the few people who would care enough to judge me for going to Mass at my undergrad instead of making a local parish my home, you’re doing it wrong. Be jealous instead.

I spend a lot of time with my UD friends and family, while still getting to develop a community at UNT, and having time alone. I am finding a balance, or as much of a balance as anyone can have.

This year I also started SpiritualUprising Magazine and UP Ministries with Molly and we’ve kept it going through our transitions. This semester I started the habit of walking daily, joined the Tone It Up nutrition plan, walked a 5K, taught my first semester of classes, wrote 2 twenty page papers and cited the Sisters of Providence in both of them, watched multiple movies and spent time with friends, and so many other wonderful things. It’s been a great semester and a great year. Things aren’t perfect—I’ve had bronchitis for 2 months and am still relatively sick, my uncle was just diagnosed with leukemia, and my dad’s health continues to go back and forth. I've struggled to find time to write and do things I want to do and at the beginning of my time in Denton, I was still trying to shake the issues from Indy. But, through it all, I have had people who love me. I had a friend wiling to drive me to the ER when my fever hit 104 and bring me food while I was recovering. I had professors who were supportive and understanding. I have a roof over my head. I am blessed with the opportunity to continue my education and teach truly wonderful college kids, which is more like ministry than you would think. I come home to a roommate who doesn’t steal from, judge, or demean me.

I am happy.  

I hope that you and yours are, too.

Merry Christmas and Happy 2015.

A Quarter of a Century

Written on January 15, 2014

Well… today is the day.

It’s been a quarter century in the making.

25 years ago today, my mom was in the hospital and a very wonderful doctor was fighting to save her life and mine. 25 years ago today, that doctor told my dad that he would take home either a baby or a wife, but not both. And, most importantly, 25 years ago today, my mom and I, with help from the doctor and from God, proved that doctor wrong.

The realization that I am turning 25 has been hitting me slowly for a few weeks now. I’m not the kind of girl to worry about age—I kind of like that my age is slowly increasing, giving some sort of proof that common sense and experience have been my reward for walking the paths life has given me. But this year is different.

When I was younger, I always imagined that at 25, I would have a husband, a couple kids, a life with some sort of stability. I’m struggling with the temptation to be disappointed in myself. I am not where I wanted to be, or even where I want to be. I don’t have a husband, or even a significant other to walk through life with. I do, however, have literally a hundred amazing friends who give my life fullness and meaning, but almost all of them are far, far away from the city I live in (and I thank God for the ones who are closer—Annie, Arrianne, Patty, Dina, Meli, and Hannah, though you’re still not close enough!… I am grateful for you all and the wonderful flavor you give to my life). I don’t have any kids, but I have beautiful baby cousins, “nieces” and “nephews” that I borrow, and almost 200 college kids who lovingly call me their Mama Duck. I don’t have a job that I want to have for a long time (or even, really, for more than another year) and that probably adds to the feeling of discontent that I have felt rising slowly inside of me.

A wise friend recently told me that when her daughter was small she was very fussy all of the sudden and the pediatrician told her that meant her daughter was getting ready for a transition—in her case, a transition into crawling. Sometimes, just like when we were children, we start feeling fussy, a sort of discontent, and it is God’s way of showing us that we are preparing in our hearts for a new transition, a new path.

So, here I am at 25, searching. As a kid, the only thing I wanted to be when I grew up was a mom and a writer. A decade later, the draw to write, to create, has been stirring in my bones. I long to read, to research, to teach, to do some work in literature. I have applied to two PhD programs and I can only pray that against hope that I will be accepted, given funding, and can be able to pursue the dreams that I have had from childhood.

So, today… today, on my 25th birthday, I spent the day fighting anxiety and stress. Work has come back in full swing and I feel myself falling more and more behind, even though I’ve been at work for only two days this semester and surely, I can’t already be behind? But it is the nature of ministry that you fall behind, that students come and want or need to talk, that coworkers bless you with friendship and conversation, that God somehow breaks into your to-do list and brings life along with him. Today, in the midst of this, I keep thinking about my failed expectations and dwelling on how extraordinarily lonely life has become. I am fighting off the winter blues combined with something deeper, something at the heart of my being that involves questions of self-worth and quests for meaning—things that I am supposed to be leading students through, not struggling with myself (although isn’t that how ministry always is?). The realization that I am now 25 and still have not lived up to the dreams I had five years ago at the beginning of college certainly do not help this situation, as I’m sure friends can understand. I know I’m not the only one feeling this—it seems to be an epidemic among my friends from college and other friends besides. But usually, usually I am able to fight it off and that it hit me today of all days, bothers the heck out of me.

Fortunately, I don’t really have time to sit and stew. And, if I did, I would still have the consolation of friends who love me. I was surprised today with a bouquet of flowers from one of my best friends from college who lives on the east coast and text messages from some of my favorite people in the world. That other people remember my birthday means a lot, I’m really big on other people’s birthdays and it’s nice to have that repaid (although, not the point).

Anyways, all this discontent has to be dealt with somehow and I am dealing with it by making a deal with myself: 25 is going to be my best year so far. C.S. Lewis says, “There are far, far greater things ahead than anything we leave behind.” I’m going to take him at his word and make this year the best ever. My friend Hannah (another one, I know, I have FOUR Hannahs in my life… and they are ALL AMAZING) recommended a book called Create Your Amazing Year and I am using that, along with a subscription to Wild Sister magazine (my birthday gift to myself), to motivate me and guide me this year. I’ve watched several friends defeat this mid-twenties depression recently by making a conscious effort to do what they need to do to be healthy and happy. I’m hoping to follow in these women’s footsteps. This year is going to be a good year.

Oh, and a note: I DID  celebrate my birthday. My friends Annie and Arrianne as well as a student went with me to see Frozen in theaters. Annie and Arrianne went for ice cream with me after. It was a great night and I am so grateful for the wonderful women in my life.

Some thoughts on 2013

I am sitting alone in a friend’s house writing this. I spent the last few days in Dallas, visiting with friends and family and letting my spirit renew itself. Tomorrow morning, New Year’s Day, I will drive the ten hours back to Rolla just in time to accompany my mother to the doctor’s office (nothing major).

I haven’t taken the time to process yet what I want 2014 to be, but I know that I want it to be BIG. I have so much that I want to accomplish: things to do, projects to finish, books to read, stories to write, and places to go. I know that New Year resolutions are often forgotten by the first week of February, but I am determined to get some things done. It’s time to live my dreams.

2013 wasn’t the worst year, though. I got a promotion and became the Director of the Butler Catholic Community. I finished my MA and graduated from Notre Dame. I interned at the White Violet Center and experienced true healing in my intern community while living with my sisters for a month. I finally became a Providence Associate. I applied for PhD programs, visited Dallas twice, KC once, saw friends who I had long missed, and met a new baby cousin (Teytin). I even started my own Etsy page.

Probably the most extraordinary thing about 2013 is that even though I was given abundant blessings, I know that I was most often unhappy—and seemingly for no reason. But instead of being sad because of depression or grief, I think that I was uncomfortable and felt myself becoming more and more aware that I am not where God wants me to be. And here I am, leaping again into transition.

For those who know me best, you already know that I don’t really make NY Resolutions and instead do these things on my birthday (Jan 15), so for now I will just share this request: please pray for me. I don’t do well in transitions and I think this will be a big year. Only God knows what 2014 will bring.

2012-- 100 Book Challenge

I finished!!!! FOUR DAYS LATE, but I DID IT!!!!!

From my blog at the beginning of 2012:

"So, my resolutions? Well, to explain the first, I want to share a statistic I read in the December/January issue of Natural Health: “According to the National Endowment for the Arts, the average American only spends 12 minutes a day reading.” (It goes on to say that studies show that regular readers are more likely than non readers to engage in positive civic and individual activities.) This made me think back to the good old days of Mrs. Meusch’s reading class at St. Pats and the 30 minutes a night we were required to read (or 30 pages, since she assumed we could all read at least a page a minute—I mean, it’s not like we were reading Proust). I also thought back to the number of books I successfully completed reading last semester outside of class: 1. It was a book Fr. Jeff asked me to read because the freshmen were reading it and it took me almost the whole semester (as in, I started in August and finished in December) to read it. I mean, sure, I reread five chapters of Henry Adams, intermittently read Pride and Prejudice and The Marble Faun (neither of which have I finished), and read a ton of magazine articles (hence the article mentioned above), but I didn’t actually read books. Now, some of you might not be shocked to hear this, but I was shocked to realize it. For those of you who remember the girl who plowed through fifty to sixty books each semester in Mrs. Meusch’s class, you can see the problem. And I have felt myself getting less and less grammatically correct (truly, I feel myself growing less intelligent by the second sometimes). So, therefore, I need to read books. So my first resolution is to read 100 books in 2012."

So, I'm reading books. A lot of books. If you have recommendations, please let me know.

Here are the ones I've read so far...
1. The Invisible Man by HG Wells
2. The Things They Carried by Tim O'Brien
3. Out of the Silent Planet by C. S. Lewis
4. A Wrinkle in Time by Madeline L'Engle
5. Joshua by Joseph Girzone
6. The Lost Hero by Rick Riordan
7. The Help by Kathryn Stockett
8. Till We Have Faces by C. S. Lewis
9. The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins
10. Mockingjay by Suzanne Collins
11. Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins
12. The Way of Ignorance by Wendell Berry
13. Living Your Strengths by Albert Winseman
14. The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin
15. The Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis
16. Farming: A Handbook by Wendell Berry
17. Welcome to the Arc by Stephanie Tolan
18. The Flight of the Raven by Stephanie Tolan
19. Dairy Free and Gluten Free Kitchen by Denise Jardine
20. Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
21. Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen
22. The Suicide Club by Robert Louis Stevenson
23. One by Dan Zadra
24. The Shadow Thieves by Ann Ursu
25. The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin
26. Five by Dan Zadra
27. Gluten-Free Desserts by Leslie Hammond and Betsy Laakso
28. The Rule of Won by Stefan Petrucha
29. The Patron Saint of Butterflies by Cecelia Galante
30. The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint Exupery
31. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
32. In Wisdom's Path by Jan Richardson
33. On Job by Gustavo Gutierrez
34. Once Upon a More Enlightened Time by James Finn Garner
35. Where Things Come Back  by John Corey Whaley
36. Praying the Psalms by Thomas Merton
37. Emma by Jane Austen
38. The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd
39. The Singer by Calvin Miller
40. The Princess and Curdie by George MacDonald
41. Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh
42. The Fall by Garth Nix
43. The Siren Song by Anne Ursu
44. The Five Fakirs of Faizabad by P.B. Kerr
45. The Princess and the Goblin by George MacDonald
46. The Epic Tale of Bartkowiak
47. The Light Princess by George MacDonald
48. Castle by Garth Nix
49. Aenir by Garth Nix
50. Everything that Rises Must Converge by Flannery O'Connor
51. Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen
52. The Grave Robbers of Genghis Khan by P.B. Kerr
53. Above the Veil by Garth Nix
54. Into Battle by Garth Nix
55. The Violet Keystone by Garth Nix
56. Tattoos on the Heart by Fr. Greg Boyle
57. Here by Wislawa Szymborska
58. Dirty Life by Kristin Kimball
59. A Jane Austen Education by William Deresiewicz
60. Five Practices of Fruitful Living  by Richard Schnase
61. Five Practices of Fruitful Living: A Leader Guide by Richard Schnase
62. Midnight for Charlie Bone by Jenny Nimmo
63. Immortal Fire by Anne Ursu
64. Perelandra by C. S. Lewis
65. Charlie Bone and the Time Twister by Jenny Nimmo
66. Leavings by Wendell Berry
67. Politically Correct Holiday Stories by Finn Garner
68. Small Plates and Sweet Treats by Aran Goyoaga
69. Charlie Bone and the Invisible Boy by Jenny Nimmo
70. Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert
71. Charlie Bone and the Castle of Mirrors by Jenny Nimmo
72. Crystal Line by Anne McCaffrey
73. Charlie Bone and the Hidden King by Jenny Nimmo
74. Charlie Bone and the Beast by Jenny Nimmo
75. Charlie Bone and the Shadow by Jenny Nimmo
76. The Problem of Pain by C.S. Lewis
77. The Hobbit by J.R.R.T.
78. My Sisters, The Sanints by Colleen Carroll Campbell
79. Charlie Bone and the Red Knight by Jenny Nimmo
80. That Hideous Strength by C.S. Lewis
81. The Silmarillion by JRRT (I made a deal at the beginning of the year that if I read the Silmarillion, I could count it as 20 books... so I finished!)

Stats:
Books by C.S. Lewis: 6
Books by Wendell Berry: 3
Books by Tolkien: 2
Books by Austen: 4 (bonus: 1 book about Austen)
Cookbooks: 3
Series read (beginning to end): 7

I'd say it was a good year!