Give me a fish and I eat for a day. Teach me to fish and I eat for a lifetime. ~Chinese Proverb

I met Naomi and her mom Samantha at a McDonalds in Ventura County after work one day just over 2 years ago. We were all a little nervous- just starting out with a program that was new to all of us. I introduced myself to them both- I was Naomi's tutor, assigned as a volunteer by School on Wheels.

It was a rough start. Naomi had started kindergarten that month and had very little interest in structure or in sitting still for more than 28 seconds at a time. I had never taught a child before. But we worked through it- I crawled on the floor with her to play memory games with numbers. We hopped from one color to the next on a rug. I put hundreds of post-its with letters up on the library wall and we made words together. She learned to read. She learned to tell time. She learned to concentrate for up to 45 seconds. She still has not learned WALK don't RUN in the library.

I have learned a lot working with Naomi. I have learned that it does not matter WHAT I teach her. Just that I show her that I believe in her and that someone outside of her family will dedicate their time to ensuring her success.

I have learned that people who live in poverty need someone to believe in them. They need hope. They absolutely positively need to see that they are not forgotten. That the dreams they secretly plan for, then squash when reality kicks in- Those dreams can be real.

In learning this, I realized that I need to do more. To offer my support and encouragement and dedication to more people who need to feel hope in order to prosper.

When my friend Melissa brought up her idea for a charitable organization that does just this- creates learning opportunities for entire communities in need- I was on board immediately. Couldn't stop thinking of the possibilities. That was earlier this year.

Today, we have a plan of action. We have a website. We have team members and conference calls. We're going to make a difference. A big one.

Lighting Up The Sky will take on its first project next year. We're going to build a school garden and teach kids along the way about architecture, design, agriculture, food policy, nutrition, project management. We're going to give these kids a business to run and teach them about sustainability. They're going to own something. To see that their hard work and dedication led to something healthy and created a connection with their community.

I can't imagine what I'll learn along the way. I never expected to be involved in a non profit at this level. For years, I was happy doing my part with a few hours per month of volunteering. There is something so compelling, though, about being a part of someone else's success. About seeing a person who had little hope suddenly with a sparkle in their eye- when that glimmer of hope becomes real, it's almost tangible.

In a few weeks, we should be fully up and running with more information about our first project and more "About Us" and things on our website to click on. For now, stay tuned... and visit: www.lightingupthesky.org

I've learned that people will forget what you said,people will forget what you did,but people will never forget how you made them feel. ~Maya Angelou

Last Sunday in church, I sat next to an elderly gentleman.

When it came time to sing a song from the book, I opened it to the appropriate page and leaned over to share with him, as he didn't seem to have a song book. He leaned in real close and spoke softly, but firmly in my ear: I don't sing, and you should be happy about that.

I responded- I'll sing quietly. Consider it a favor.

When the service was at its end, we all joined hands, as is the church tradition, and sang one last tune together. When he grabbed my hand, I felt instantly safe. It took me back to all of the times I grabbed onto my grandfathers' hands and held tight. I knew I was safe with them.

I don't go to church every Sunday. Sometimes, I go to church when I'm worried about something. When I need guidance or a sense of community. A sign from above that says: THIS WAY TO SAVE YOUR ASS.

This Sunday, I was there because I was afraid. Scared out of my mind.

My sister and her family are leaving California at the end of the month. They're off to Texas- my brother in law will be working there for the next three years. Charlene and I have always been very close. We're 13 months (and a day) apart and she has been within driving distance from me for my entire adult life.

Charlene is the closest person on the planet to me. I have relied on her and fought with her and laughed with her during every major joyful time and definitely cried with her during every great sorrow.

I can tell when she is upset. When she is sick and doesn't want to ask for help. She's tough. She plays a good game of telling me she's fine and not to worry- even to the point of getting upset with me about my prodding at times.

But then- then I show up at her house. What's she going to say at that point- I see that she's not okay and she'll feel even worse if she tries to send me away after I just drove for three hours to pry into her personal affairs.

Charlene is just as perceptive with me. She knows I put on my bravest face when I am the most terrified.

Charlene- remember that time on the bus, when we got lost and didn't know how to get to grandma & grandpa's house? You cried and I told the bus driver that the street was salt and pepper. It was Salk, but we got there. You always tell the story that I was giggly and happy the whole time while you cried. Guess what? I was fine only because I knew I had you there, with me, holding my hand. I knew I was safe.

I know that my sister will be fine in Texas. That she'll make new friends and that her loving, adoring, big strong manly husband won't let anything bad happen to her. And I know that her two wonderful children will keep her busy.

But I hope that she remembers to call me all the time to check on me. Yes, she can see that I project a confident, successful, happy image to the world. She sees right through it. She knows what I'm afraid of and how often I cry over silly things that most people wouldn't give a second's thought to.


And sometimes, Charlene, know that I will show up at your doorstep with a big cowgirl grin on my face when I can tell you're keeping something from me. If you are hurting, sad, angry, feeling helpless, I know you won't tell me. But I'll be able to tell. Even several states away. You might as well keep the sofa bed made up for me.

The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes. ~Marcel Proust

Volcan Arenal is a massive fiery mountain in Costa Rica. The reason I know it's massive is because you can drive around the base of it for hours and get nowhere near to the other side.

My friend Jacinta and I were staying in La Fortuna, lounging in the hot springs at Baldi Resort for an entire day. We had big plans of driving out to the volcano that heats the spring water later that night. Several other travelers at the bar wanted in on our plans.

After basking in the glorious pools all day, we were ready for a little adventure. Just as it got dark, we grabbed a map from the resort's receptionist, piled into 2 cars and were off to find hot lava in the night.

As it turns out, we got lost. Shocking for those who have known me for more than five minutes, I realize. I could make all kinds of excuses- about how there aren't any street signs in Costa Rica and how it was dark and how the map LIED and how people in Costa Rica are so nice that they'll guess and give you the wrong directions rather than sending you away empty-handed. I'm especially long-winded when making excuses for myself.

All of those reasons don't change the fact that our two-car caravan drove for an hour and a half over dark and dangerous semi-roads to get precisely nowhere. We couldn't find the other side of the volcano.

But all was not lost. We knew that we could go up to the mountain-top observatory and see the lava from there if the clouds cooperated and went high up into the sky. And so we re-traced our steps back toward the town of La Fortuna and the mountain top observatory.

The travelers in the other car became weary when we pulled off onto yet another rocky, one-lane, dark and deserted mountain road. They wanted nothing more than to go back to their comfortable hotels and skip the view of lava.

We convinced them to just go the 3 more miles it would take to finally have a chance at the view we'd been looking for over the past hour and a half. So they followed. Up the road, over a creek, and to a gate. A locked one. With security. Dang. It was too late at night for visitors and no amount of begging was going to get us in.

All we wanted was a view of hot, red, burning matter, rolling down a mountain side and burning everything in its path. Is that really too much to ask for on a Tuesday night? Guess so. The other travelers said good night to us shortly after being turned down to view the lava.

But Jacinta and I noticed something while driving back out to the main road from the observatory gate. A mini-volcano.

No, this one didn't have lava and it didn't make any gurgling noises and it certainly didn't heat up any natural springs nearby. Someone built their own volcano out there on the roadside. Maybe someone like us, disappointed in not being able to see the real thing.

So we got to see a volcano after all.

Being on par in terms of price and quality only gets you into the game. Service wins the game. ~Tony Alessandra

During a recent trip to South Africa, I ran into a common issue during an airport transfer.I was flying on Northwest Airlines (soon to be merged with Delta) from LAX to Minnesota to Amsterdam and finally to Johannesburg. There was a two hour connection time in Minnesota- just enough time to savor my last domestic beer before switching to the local stuff of Africa for a week and a half.

But after we boarded the plane in Minnesota and taxied down the runway, the plane stopped. It was broken- some mechanical difficulty that might be fixable while we waited on the runway. Hmmmm... I've heard so many horror stories about people trapped together on planes for hours while these things took place. I was beyond worried. However, after just a little while, the pilot let us know that he'd be taking us back to the gate so we could wait it out there.

Well done, Northwest. Even if we had to wait for several hours, we could do it while stretching our legs and buying useless gadgets at the shops near the gate.

It turned out to be a four hour wait- they brought another entire plane in for us and loaded up all of our luggage (presumably) before we took off for Amsterdam. The problem I faced when we finally landed is that my connection to Johannesburg took off ten minutes prior to our arrival.

Dang. But KLM/Northwest got me on a flight to Frankfurt and I eventually made it to Joburg. Just twelve hours after my expected arrival time. No worries- I'd just grab my bags and head off for a fun-filled day with my friend in town.

No dice. During all of the transfers, the airline lost my luggage. Or rather, left in in Amsterdam. I was assured it would be delivered to my local address by that night and that they would reimburse me up to $75 dollars per day for replacement items.

Having nothing with me but my purse, a nightgown, toothpaste, and a toothbrush, I thought I'd need some essentials until at least the next day. I didn't end up getting my luggage until five days later in Cape Town. By then, I had done a bit of shopping every day during my trip. Luckily, I was in cities the entire time and boy, do South Africans have beautiful retail stores. I had no idea.

Before I left the country, I had to buy a piece of luggage to carry everything I'd purchased back home with me. Unfortunately, I left behind a pretty jacket that I had purchased for their wintery weather.After all that hassle of missed connections, napping in airports, and needing a shower so badly that it ached, I returned home and had a letter waiting in the mail from the Northwest customer service group. They apologized for the inconvenience I experienced during my trip and granted me 5,000 frequent flyer miles. I never once complained to the airline after my trip and yet, they sent me a letter that let me know they paid attention to their customers.

Now that is good customer service. If only they could send me that jacket I left behind in Cape Town... Are you listening, Northwest?

A new baby is like the beginning of all things-wonder, hope, a dream of possibilities. ~Eda LeShan

My nephew Maxwell Laeric Swearingen was born on August 5, 2009.
I got a call from my mom at 4:30 in the morning to let me know that everyone was heading to the Naval hospital in San Diego for my sister Charlene's birthing process. Weary-eyed and excited, I packed up a few things, grabbed my pup, and headed out for the 3 1/2 hour drive to Oceanside. I had great work to do this day.

Charlene has a precious toddler by the name of Madelyn who would surely be bored to tears and fits if she had to remain in the hospital waiting room all day with her grandma. Not that my mom is boring- it's just that waiting rooms are not generally full of toys and cartoons and dogs and pizza.

When I arrived at my sister's house, Mom transferred babysitting duty to me for the remainder of the day.

Luckily, I know what this child's favorite things are: Barney, juice, running, laughing, jumping, and legos. I was more than prepared to handle my task.
Several hours and a nap later, my nephew joined everyone else in the hospital room. My sister reportedly did very well throughout the painful process and her husband Tory didn't cry. He promises- it was just all the dust in the room. Says they should clean more often. It's a hospital, after all! Outrage, I tell you.

Mom came back up north once again to collect Madelyn and I and introduce us to our new family member. He is so small, so perfect. So... ah. And he pooped for the first time a few minutes after we got there. We are an inspiring bunch.
After an hour or so at the hospital, Mom, Madelyn, and I went back to Charlene and Tory's house and stayed the night. The next day, the whole bunch came home and got settled.

I am so excited to see what kind of boy Maxwell turns into. Will he be WILD and energetic like Madelyn, or will he be calm, cool, and collected? Only time will tell. Until then, I look forward to hearing his little cries and eventually his little giggle. I love baby giggles.

If you're bored with life - you don't get up every morning with a burning desire to do things - you don't have enough goals. ~Lou Holtz

I've officially been unemployed for over a month now.

It feels DELIGHTFUL to sleep in until 10am and to take off on a road trip at a moment's notice. I have the time and energy to devote to a project that I truly believe in. Spending my days where I choose and how I choose is incredible.

That said, eventually, I will have to work again. Money is completely necessary, though not a huge driver for whatever I end up doing next.

Oh- the lack of job. Right. I haven't really discussed it in a public forum yet. The company that I worked for went through yet another reduction in force. I was working in a department that bounced around from one kind of organization to another and nothing was really working with the current set-up. They had to re-organize the whole department anyhow and being in communications, I wasn't as critical a team member as, say, the guy who was building system architecture and other fancy stuff.

So I got laid off and was super excited about it. The very second I got the news, I began running through everything that I have been meaning to do, but didn't have the time for. Then, I went to Santa Cruz, South Africa, San Diego, back to the Bay Area, and now I'm off to Costa Rica.

I'll spend just five days on the beach with my Australian friend Jacinta, soaking up sunshine and chatting up the locals in my favorite place on Earth (I haven't been everywhere yet. Just my favorite so far). I'll return in time for my little sister's wedding and then I'm off for a camping trip in the desert for a week, then off to Provo for my grandma's birthday party.

Then... home... please....

I've heard a lot of people talk about how boring being unemployed can be. I beg to disagree.

The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances. If there is any reaction, both are transformed. ~Carl Gustav Jung

A long, long time ago in a faraway land (the San Fernando Valley), I was working in the office at a live audio company.

I had been living in Southern California for a couple of years, but hadn't made any lasting connections with girl friends. My focus on relationships was almost completely with my (now former) husband and my friends from childhood.

Growing up in a small town with the same people in the same places doing the same things year after year led me to think that making friends was simple. We just knew everyone and all of their business. It would have been difficult not to form friendships in a situation like that.

But the big city- well, it's different. I had no idea how to make new friends, really. I didn't even know that I missed it until my husband pointed out that I didn't have any friends. Well, that got me to thinking. I needed a plan.

Luckily, there was one other lady at my workplace under the age of 60. Carrie and I teamed up and decided that we'd be each other's best friend. Pretty simple solution to taking the first step, really. But there was just one problem. We didn't know ANY ladies in the area to grow our friendship network with.

This is where creativity and downright persistence came in. Carrie and I decided that we'd be friends with all of the girlfriends and wives of the guys we worked with. So we wrote a note for each of them to take home to their ladies one day. The notes were personalized and asked each of them to meet us for lunch at a local restaurant the following weekend.

Several of them actually showed up! We ate, we drank fancy vodka drinks, and we got their phone numbers. Ahhhh... a second step. Done.

With contact information in hand and the first meeting under our belts, we forged our way into their lives and their homes. One of the ladies even allowed us to come over for dinner on a regular basis. Abi's vegetarian Matzo ball soup is to DIE for.

From this tiny network of ladies, we grew more comfortable with making new friends and have both almost completely forgotten what it was like to be timid about meeting people. It's incredible to think back to those days when all we had was the two of us, scheming together to bring more fun into our lives.