brilliant warrior goddess.

So, what the hell does "Brilliant Warrior Goddess" mean you might ask yourself...

Am I so enamored with myself that I gave myself that moniker to remind me how awesome I am? No. Not at all.

It came to into being when I found myself alone, again, in State College, PA in 2000. When I say alone I mean without people around me and not lonely. I have very rarely felt lonely in my life; I have continually felt that my writing has kept me company through times when I could have felt that way. But I was alone. I had moved to State College to attend Penn State. I enrolled at Penn State because there was no way in hell Nick and I were going to remain together at the age of 20 if we weren't in the same town. We had spent a LOOONG distance love (remember, he was in Rome from 1/2000-4/2000...we started dating 8/1999) and that was enough. Without getting into an entire side story, let's just say I knew that the path the Universe wanted me to take was to head to PSU. So there I was.

I started out with two roommates and they moved out to live with their boyfriends. Big house, Kate Miller, art and writing supplies and plenty of music but no friends. Sure, I knew people through Nick but I like to have my own friends. I did not want to get into a position where we broke up and I found myself alone again. Yadda, yadda, miss independent rears her head. Oh, and remember I'm only 20 at this point and Nick has been 21 for almost a year as have all of his buddies. We made do but there was a lot of time to be alone.

Again, being alone was nothing new to me. I spent a year in Columbus, Ohio feeling completely alone and after that another year back home. But as I sat there reflecting on all I had seen and been through by the age of 20- the words brilliant warrior goddess came to me. I felt like my entire life, for different reasons, I had to be strong like a warrior. I learned to dig deep deep inside me, keep my head up, my armor at the ready to defend against whatever was being thrown my way. I do not mean to define this in a woe is me way, quite the opposite. It has a lot to do with the way I was raised: to never let anyone get you down, to never let anyone think that they can hurt you or that they are better than you. This is not a violent warrior that I acknowledge inside of me but a protector, a shield.

I'll spare the details but by the age of 20 I had been through, what I see as some pretty awesome battles. I learned a term in my psych class called "learned optimism" which is the antithesis of "learned helplessness." Some people go through life beaten down, when life throws tomatoes at them they let the acid burn their wounds. I, on the other hand, feel as though I thank the Universe for the opportunity to learn how to make sauce. This is where the brilliance comes in. Not brilliance as in intelligence. Brilliant, in this case, refers to a quality of light, really. A sparkle or brightness reflecting in color.

As my old neighbor in State College said when he found out I grew up as the daughter of a farmer in Upstate New York (he, too, grew up on a farm) "I should have known you were from good stock, a good hearty person." I believe he's right. I believe that growing up with your strong family surrounding you makes you different from other people. Every single day my sister and I, despite anything else, had my grandmother's strong loving arms wrapped around us. We had our Dad right. there. We witnessed first hand his hard work, we rode in the tractor with him, went to Cow-well-wells with him to pick up parts, he even cut a little broom down so I could help him sweep the barn. It was the. best. ever. When I sat there, alone, at the table in State College on a Friday night reflecting on this I realized that everything I'd experienced, EVERYTHING, had developed this strength inside of me that I had a reverence for. There was a Brilliant Warrior Goddess deep down that I could call upon, conjure up for lack of a better term.

The Buddhists believe that everything you need to obtain Enlightenment, you have, you just have to access it. The Buddha, they believe, resides within each and everyone one of us. I suppose this goes along with the Christian belief of your body being a temple, you are a child of God. I think the Buddhist idea goes a little further, though, a little closer to my own beliefs. You call upon different aspects of Buddha to help you on your Eight Fold Path. I think my BWG is my own aspect of Buddha or the HP or the Universe that I call upon. My belief that there is something more guiding me in this life, within me she is called the Brilliant Warrior Goddess. She kicks ass, she takes names. She writes poetry and draws her soul. She loves intensely and protects more so.

Sometimes I let this get away from me. Sometimes I stop listening and let self-doubt and ugly thoughts get into my head. Luckily, I find myself surrounded by people like myself. People who have found or are finding their inner strength, self, love. The beauty and strength in them helps me find the beauty and strength in me (as the idea of the term namaste).

...and there you have the story of the origins of the Brilliant Warrior Goddess.

someday i'll find the picture I drew that night and post it...

my best friend rocks.

I have three questions today:
#1 What is the symbolism of a female cardinal?
#2 How do you write an ode to your best friend without seeming corny and making others feel bad?
#3 What IS the Great American Novel?

My former (?) professor, Dr. Reid writes on his blog that blogging can help you become a better writer, it can help you work out ideas, etc. I paraphrase, of course, but generally you get the idea. So I figure that makes blogging a great excuse for me to sit here and type my thoughts on the computer to share with all 4 people who read this blog. Because, as my father-in-law so importantly reminded me the other night if you love writing you write for yourself and who cares what anyone else thinks. (again, i paraphrase) This is a topic he wrote on in HIS blog. Blogging: we are all indelibly connected.

It was also my darling father-in-law who got me thinking about the Great American Novel. He and my mother-in-law (from here on out known as FIL and MIL) were discussing the possibilities of my future writing ventures and he suggested that mine could be the next Great American Novel (i love their belief in me, aren't i lucky?). My first thoughts, due to my feminist/postmodern conspiracy theorist ways was "that will never happen as I'm not a white dude." As my best friend, Karlton, pointed out that is truly unfair.

The question "What constitutes the Great American Novel" is debated in university English classrooms all over the country. And, apparently, in my kitchen over beers on a Thursday night (here's where the Ode to my best friend comes in). The Great American Novels (GANs?) ARE ALL Künstlerromane people! or at least Bildungsromane. The topic of my thesis, the transcultural künstlerroman highlights two Great American Novels. The fact is, we need to get them into the conversation or at least keep them there. We do this by making sure our schools teach them. As important as the old white dudes are to our national identity, equally are authors with other camping parts and skin colors.

I have never been interested in the old white dudes much. Anything I can remember reading (meaning I enjoyed them) from high school or undergrad was usually by women writers or crazy postmodernists. This was the conversation brewing in my kitchen last night. The qualities of the amazing novels we had read. The Pain in Literature (a course I took and the actual pain you can feel sometimes from pieces of literature). How lucky am I to have a best friend who not only gets my English-nerdiness but has her own bout of it? This is not the first, nor is it the last Miller-Corcoran-Sbarra passionate discussion about the finer points of literature, or lack thereof (i am, remember, about to embark on Paradise Lost) and I am so thankful for that!!

Now, what about that female cardinal? We have two cardinals residing somewhere in our vicinity. I see her all the time, I don't know what her mate is busy doing but she can often e seen on the garage rooftop I can see from my office window or in the back yard. Today she was checking out the white climbing roses on my garage while I was doing dishes. Suddenly, I think is this bird stalking me? Is she a sign? So here's the sparknotes version of her symbolism::: The cardinals voice is strong and clear and reflects an air of importance. This power-packed bird can teach you how to express your truth, develop confidence, and walk your talk. It can indicate a turn of events or a life changing situation. The feminine energy is linked to intuition.

I think her visits are pretty appropriate.

here's the plan, stanley.

Okay. Obviously, I'm having difficulty letting go of my thesis and being an English major. But, I don't feel like I'm ready to take the plunge and run off in the sunset to the land of even higher education. Honestly, the biggest reason is because I don't feel prepared in my readings. Oh sure, I've taken classes in which I was SUPPOSED to read the classics, and I passed them. This is because I am a rockstar bullshitter, people. Seriously. I also have a fabulous memory and sparknotes was pretty much the reason I got through the Brit Lit Survey courses.

Yeah, well, I need to be familiar with these things to move further into my education. Especially because I will be required to take the Literature in English GRE Subject Test. Which I think if I took tomorrow would cause me to be the laughing stock of any PhD program I applied to. I found a book list online and I am going to begin brushing up on what I have read (re: sparknotes, once again) and reading what I was supposed to have read.

Step One: Milton's Paradise Lost.

I am trying to be positive. Really. So much of literature is based upon this piece, right? *sigh*

But these are the steps I'm going to have to take.

Oh yeah, and I'm spending the entire summer writing. Another part of the thesis I didn't get to write and furthering the silly project I've been working on for the past decade.

That should be fun... I just wish I had a laptop so I could do it in the sun!! I guess the office will be the room with the AC in it!!

Oh, and I totally bought this from half.com (thanks, aunt syl for introducing me to that site) because I am blacklisted at every library from here to maryland to ohio!




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on a side note, its more than official: i am totally losing my hearing. today one of my students kept saying "your hair looks like hairspray" and all i kept hearing, as she repeated "hairspray" over and over was "assbrain" ...not to mention the fact that my mother-in-law told me chastity bono is getting a sex change and I thought she said chastity boner...which kind of makes sense if you think about it...

good-bye, dear friend...

"All learning is accompanied by pain."

(Aristotle)

Right. I'm in the midst of finding out just how I am supposed to get this thesis of mine approved by the English Department at SUNY Cortland. Whose chair, my dear Dr. Alwes, is stepping down as of next Tuesday. Katherine Mary, you are a nut. Am I a procrastinator? of sorts, I suppose. I thought there would be directions on this, or at least snacks on my journey.

Sorry, that's from listening to too much Andrew Bird over the course of my writing.

What strikes me as being really sick or sadistic is that I don't want to stop this writing. I want to write another thesis now. I want to write one completely with all the research I did and DID NOT USE on Lan Cao.

It's like my nerdiness will never cease... I'm still trying to figure this out. I'm trying to figure out why I don't feel like I'm all that fabulous in the realm of English yet don't want to stop writing. And why couldn't I felt like this about all my classes?

Why do I shed tears after turning in my final draft to my prof? I mean, seriously, I want to sit here with my head on my desk and cry, as if I lost a dear friend and not out of relief. I feel bereft.

i heart nick corcoran.

June 19, 2004 started out rainy but turned out to be the most spectacular, cloudless beautiful June day ever. We exchanged our marriage vows at Christ's Church in downtown Binghamton. This is my favorite picture of the day, my aunt took it. I love it because I'm holding the hand of the cutest, kindest, most considerate, creative, intelligent boy I have ever met surrounded by the people we love and the city we adore.


We didn't have extraneous people at the wedding, we had only people who enriched our lives. (and 4 couples who were friends of our parents, but they enriched their lives...) Five years later not only has our love grown but our family of friends. We are the luckiest people in the world; I am the luckiest woman alive. Not only do I get to be married to Nick but my life is full of brilliance thanks to the people in it. Thanks, HP, for the true blessings that I have been given...

these are the same people who cheered me on as I have gone through a hellacious 3 months of writing. Which, might I add, was greeted with these words from my prof: "Hello Kate, I did get your file. In fact, I have read through your thesis and I am quite happy with the revisions you've made."

rock on!

stillness

Hip hip hooray, I completed my thesis!

As I wait for my prof's review/comments so that I can truly completely never have to write again I've just been sitting here in my pretty orange office contemplating.

My body still shakes a little, coming off this wild ride I decided to begin on March 15. I started freaking out a little, what's next? What's my next big accomplishment? And then I thought to myself...BE STILL! "Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life." (Omar Khayyam) WHO CARES WHAT I DO???? I'm FRIGGEN DONE WITH MY MASTER'S DEGREE.

I can do whatever the hell I want!!!!!!


Yesterday, after I clicked SEND on the 36 pages of writing I've slaved over for the past 3 months...well, honestly, I cried a little at first. Then I cracked a beer and sat in the yard, the sun beating down on my SUPER WHITE skin, READING A BOOK THAT I PICKED. Today I spent time with my loves, Kami, John and G and didn't worry about getting back to write before dinner.

I can do what I want.


There are no more classes hanging over my head.

There are no professors waiting for my response to something I read.

It's just me and my thoughts and whatever I want to create here in my orange office.

thanks be to the HP... and St. Theresa and whoever it was that sent her prayer to me just as I took this on...

May today there be peace within.
May you trust God [kmc:the HP] that you are exactly where you are meant to be.
May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith.
May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you. May you be content knowing you are a child of God[kmc:the HP].
Let this presence settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love. It is there for each and every one of you.



I'll write my complete page of dedications later... :)

...still...
a moment on Chase Lake...last friday night...

awesome.

I found this on facebook and thought I would share... as I procrastinate the final pages and edits... :)

my favorite month

Dear June,

I love you. You are my favorite. You remind me of the anticipation of the end of school. Of early in the season days at Cole Park which were filled with school children who only came for a few hours and a lot of chit chat. You remind me of summer classes at Penn State. You remind me of bonfires in high school and solo back yard beers at slootsville manner, state college. You remind me of graduating high school, of moving to baltimore. You remind me of the best weekend of my life, when I married Nick. You remind me of all the possibilities that lay before me not only when I hit a milestone in my life but each day when I wake up.

June, you inspire me to dance barefoot in the rain feeling the mud between my toes. You inspire me to take road trips. To write poetry beneath the trees. To eat popsicles with children. To skip to my destination rather than walk or run.

Thanks, June, for the way you make me feel inside. For invigorating my senses. For causing tears of joy and sheer exuberance in my heart.

Forever and Always,

Katherine Mary