kabrynwanders-blog

[kabrynwanders-blog]

She leaned across her legs and shouted over the music, “So, what do you do?”

What do I do? Hmm. This question, and more specifically its meaning in our culture had been on my mind for some time. I realized recently that it’s been over 7 years since I left my corporate bank job.

Since then, I have worked on a vineyard, a fejioa orchard, a cattle breeder, and a crawfish farm. I have cleaned hotel rooms, worked at numerous beautiful restaurants (and some shitty ones), and taken care of magical animals at a world renowned bird park. I have been a chemistry (and physics, and microbiology) lab technician, a biology tutor, an environmental educator. I have been a photographer, a biologist surveying for a critically endangered species, and the person who picks up the trash at a baseball game. And you know what, you’d have to pull me back in that air conditioned gray cubicle kicking and screaming.

My corporate job was safe, and while planning to leave it, I heard over and over and over about how crazy I was. I listened as everyone’s personal fears billowed out of their mouths like thick smoke. “How will you have health insurance?” “But, what do you mean, you’ll ‘figure it out?’” “How will you make money?”

Because that’s what the question, “What do you do?” means, isn’t it? It doesn’t mean, what do you doooooo. It means, “How do you make money?” How. Do. You. Make. Money.

I leaned in closer to the stranger and answered,

“I paint. I write. I hang out with people I care about. Oh, and sometimes I teach yoga and environmental education and farm.”

I took this photo during one of the things that I “do” today. What do you doooo?

Hump Day, am I right?

July 2017

[kabrynwanders-blog]

Photograph taken of my dear Jessica and Ben on the solar eclipse last year. 120 film accidental double exposure, no editing. Today I am thankful for art as a way to process emotion. I am thankful for a way to capture light and time, and for my beautiful friends that set me free every day with their unconditional love. And damn, I am thankful for hearing this in the car on my drive today: 

"See, the source of all light is in the eye. If there were no eyes in this world, the sun would not be light. So if I hit as hard as I can on a drum which has no skin, it makes no noise. So if a sun shines on a world with no eyes, it's like a hand beating on a skinless drum. No light. YOU evoke light out of the universe, in the same way you, by nature of having a soft skin, evoke hardness out of wood. Wood is only hard in relation to a soft skin. It's your eardrum that evokes noise out of the air. You, by being this organism, call into being this whole universe of light and color and hardness and heaviness and everything. But in the mythology that we sold ourselves on at the end of the 19th century, when people discovered how big the universe was, and that we live on a little planet in a solar system on the edge of the galaxy, which is a minor galaxy, everybody thought, "Uuuuugh, we're really unimportant after all. God isn't there and doesn't love us, and nature doesn't give a damn." And we put ourselves down. But actually, it's this funny little microbe, tiny thing, crawling on this little planet that's way out somewhere, who has the ingenuity, by nature of this magnificent organic structure, to evoke the whole universe out of what otherwise would be mere quanta. There's jazz going on. But you see, this ingenious little organism is not merely some stranger in this. This little organism, on this little planet, is what the whole show is growing there, and so realizing it's own presence. Does it through you, and you're IT." 

Alan Watts, Out of Your Mind

[kabrynwanders-blog]

Sometimes I leave my body, floating above myself like a tiny red balloon.

I feel it all so deeply. Every bit of joy, every bit of pain.

I want to be honest, I want to give, I want to grow. I want to tell you stories, but for now this is all that will come. Oh... and I want to remind you that fear is a liar.

Self portrait. June 2018.

[kabrynwanders-blog]

I stare at the screen

The world at my fingertips

But nothing comes

It all seems so

Flat

You see, what do you say

When-

When

What do you share

When you know a few likes and comments won’t

Get the babies out of cages

[kabrynwanders-blog]

My little car pushed up the mountain. My ears popped and my hair blew wildly in the wind. I was almost to Boone. I decided to turn off of the highway and onto the Blue Ridge Parkway. I wanted to say hello. Soon it would be only 10 minutes from my front door. 

As rain hit my left fingertips and clouds pushed over the road, I burst into tears.

I did it. I can’t believe I actually did it.

If you know me, you know what I mean.

[kabrynwanders-blog]

I’m 13, and I’m lying on my back on the dingy blue carpet of a rented conference room staring at fluorescent rectangles above me. There were probably 10 or 12 other girls there, all my age too. It was our first day as students in one of those “modeling schools.” You know, the kind that you can read endless scam articles about now on the internet. I had on my best dress and heels. My makeup was done. We spent the day being taught how to walk and apply makeup.

As I stood in the mirror before my shower this evening, 16 years later, I watched the curves of my body as I took a full and deep breath. My full, happy belly of breath poked out on my inhale. On my exhale, my shoulders relaxed and my body softened. I felt beautiful, and alive, and free. And then the flash of memory came. My mind went back to that moment, lying on that floor, and pushed me to reflect.

The lights flickered above us and the teacher repeated, “Don’t breathe in your chest, breathe in your belly.”

I didn’t know what she meant exactly but I knew I had heard when bellies poke out on women, it’s bad. She told us to breathe in our bellies again. But no, I couldn’t. I remember inhaling fully, looking down at my chest as my ribs rose instead of my belly. Good, yes. I would look thin. Good, they would like me. Good, I would be beautiful. I took another breath. I held my abs tight. My ribs rose as my belly sunk in. I mean, I was there to be beautiful right? Because that’s the best thing a girl can be?

In yoga the concept of Chitta Vritti translates roughly to “mind chatter” or “monkey mind,” that ever present bouncing from thought to thought that every human who has ever lived should relate to. Though, Dana Falsetti of @deepdivepodcast recently related it also to the narratives and stories that we tell ourselves. Stories or perceptions that have evolved into unmovable truths that we believe, without question. Sometimes they are told to us by society as well. When I reflect on that moment on the floor of the conference room, it makes a pit form in my stomach. What was I hearing, what was I told, that made my thirteen year old child’s body scared that even her breath could make her look somehow unworthy? How does this happen?

And then the question comes- What other narratives am I telling myself as absolute truth? How else am I holding my breath?

What about you?

Portraits taken in 2010 (in a past life) on 35mm film. I found them last night. Three of my friends and myself.

[kabrynwanders-blog]

Sometimes I hear myself repeating a bad old joke at parties, “As much as I wish I could, I can’t change the world by selling hula hoops out of the back of a van.”

I always wondered if I was too sensitive. A soul just simply not made the play the game, to run the rat race. A spirit too wild to put on the pencil skirt and shake all the hands. I even tried. I did. I spent three years in a cubicle being told that I was lucky, all the while my skin was crawling. Then for a while I wondered if I would always run wild and free, end up one of those nomads slinging hula hoops for cash. I tried that life on for a bit too.

A yoga teacher I know, @marinmyoga asked, “When are you truly standing in your power?” The question hit me in the face. My power exists somewhere in between those two worlds, the girl with the cubicle and the girl with the van. Wild, hidden in plain sight. 

As I prepare to dive into my next chapter, I’m not clipping my wings for “success” or money. My academic journey is in no way because I am “supposed to” do it.  I’m not putting my backpack away for someone else’s expectations of what my life should be. I have to remind myself daily not to tame my wild an inch more than necessary. 

Because the difference is- this time it is personal. This time I am on fire. This time I know my power rests in my ability to be trembling- and still take the risk everyone else said was wrong anyway. Because I know that’s where the magic lives.

With these questions about conformity and the act we all play on my mind, being asked to take a “formal” headshot and summarize my life into four sentences felt like the most hilariously appropriate homework assignment.

_____

You know, I find it funny that the wolf is always the antagonist when he dresses in sheep’s clothing and destroys the flock. Maybe, sometimes, he’s the hero.

_____

May 2018. Eastern North Carolina. 

[kabrynwanders-blog]

May I unlearn the hatred of my body. 

Rivers and Lightning. Stardust that can ponder itself. 

And fuck, it is beautiful. It is sacred.

[kabrynwanders-blog]

I’ve spent the winter wondering. Waiting.

I applied for the Jack Kent Cooke Foundation Scholarship in December 2017. The scholarship is the largest in the nation, offering virtually a full ride to my university of choice. It felt like everything had led here. All of the classes, conferences, research. All of the early mornings driving to Sylvan Heights to work, just to leave and go to my second job, just to leave and go to my third. All of the questioning, all of the pushing. My trip to Indonesia, my work with the Bali Starling. Fremantle, that year, ripping me open in the best ways and sending me back home. All of it led to applying for this award. 

As winter passed and spring slowly (tried to) show, I could feel it pulling. Whether awarded the scholarship or not, the decision itself was a literal fork in the road. Life doesn’t offer you many of those; moments where you literally know a yes or no will change the course of your future. This award was just that. And all I could do was wait. 

And then the news came. I got it. I looked down at the email, then up at Ben. Was I reading it right? I hid alone for a moment to read it again. I got it. Tears fell and fell. I am a Jack Kent Cooke Foundation Scholar. Even typing those words makes a giant smile come across my face and causes me to pause and breathe. My efforts, my struggle, they have been recognized. Someone has said thank you, that they believe in me. The amount of empowerment and fierceness that comes from this award is indescribable. Self doubt plagues me at times, but this award stands as a silencer to those thoughts. A challenger that will lead me to pursue even more, to dig even deeper.

Recently a writer I love, Aimee Vincent, shared, “I imagined how life would’ve been if I didn’t listen to myself.” Her self reflection struck me. It made me reflect on the girl, the woman I have been. I scanned over the past crossroads in my life, the moments where I can reflect that I was faced with a choice. Again and again I listened, the tug to leave a bad relationship, the tug to leave the comfortable job, the tug to travel, the tug to love Ben, the tug to go back to school, the tug to push push push. I see myself listening. Her words made me reflect on how honoring that voice that screams which direction to go has led me here. The road has been difficult and circuitous, but it has been so, so, so, beautiful. 

In the most cumbersome of ways, I am trying to tell you to listen. I am trying to remind you, and myself, of that voice that tells us whether where we are is serving us. I encourage you to be weird. I encourage you to stop compromising. I encourage you to take the risk that feels right, even when your hands are shaking.

May my words one day do a sliver of justice to the complexity of feelings and thoughts and gratitude in my heart. 

April 2018. 

[kabrynwanders-blog]

Four days after being announced as a Jack Kent Cooke Foundation Scholar, the March for Science was held in Raleigh. Being awarded such an honor is a validation of all the blood, sweat, and tears I have poured into my work the last few years. It solidified that my voice matters in this fight and that I have one less excuse to not make a difference. While science is a non-partisan issue, it is political. Science makes our world a better place. It saves lives. In science we are unafraid to say, “I don’t know.” Humility and skepticism are our super powers. In a time where alternative facts reign, science is the only thing we have left to call BS with. Funds are being slashed, climate change denied, monuments shrunk, and we must demand better. From everyone. From all sides. From ourselves. As I drove to Raleigh with only 2 of the 8 people who told me they would join the march, I kept repeating to myself, “If not me, then who?” That goes for all of us. Now is not the time to be an internet activist. Now is the time to invite people, to show up when it is hard and you feel alone, to talk, to be an example. Next time you see me, let’s chat science.

April 2018.

[kabrynwanders-blog]

I spent all day yesterday asking myself why I didn't solely feel joy. 

"There is a term in Buddhist psychology that can be translated as “internal formations,” “fetters,” or “knots.” When we have a sensory input, depending on how we receive it, a knot may be tied in us. If we practice full awareness, we will be able to recognize internal formations as soon as they are formed, and we will find ways to transform them. Internal formations need our full attention as soon as they manifest, while they are still weak, so that the work of transformation is easy. If we do not untie our knots when they form, they will grow tighter and stronger. Our conscious, reasoning mind knows that negative feelings such as anger, fear, and regret are not wholly acceptable to ourselves or society, so it finds ways to repress them, to push them into remote areas of our consciousness in order to forget them. Because we want to avoid suffering, we create defense mechanisms that deny the existence of these negative feelings and give us the impression we have peace within ourselves. But our internal formations are always looking for ways to manifest as destructive images, feelings, thoughts, words, or behavior. The way to deal with unconscious internal formations is, first of all, to find ways to become aware of them. 

Observing closely like this can gradually bring the internal formations that are buried in us into the realm of the conscious mind. We may notice a feeling of anxiety, fear, or unpleasantness whose cause we cannot understand. So we shine the light of our mindfulness on it, and prepare ourselves to see this image, feeling, or thought, in all its complexity. When it begins to show its face, it may gather strength and become more intense. We may find it so strong that it robs us of our peace, joy, and ease, and we may not want to be in contact with it anymore. In psychology, this is called resistance. But if we have been practicing breathing and smiling for some time, we will have developed the capacity to sit still and just observe our fears. As we keep in contact with our breathing and continue to smile, we can say, 'Hello, Fear. There you are again.'" -Thich Nhat Hanh

Notes from my journal, processing the magnitude of my Jack Kent Cooke Foundation Scholar announcement. 

April 2018.

[kabrynwanders-blog]

No big deal. Just my oldest friend cross stitching, bumping Big Krit into the neighborhood. Boss. 

April 2018.

[kabrynwanders-blog]

Click here to read the news that just changed my entire life. 

It is in moments like this one that I feel the incredible limits of language to express my feelings. My life changed yesterday when I received the news that I am a Jack Kent Cooke Foundation Scholar. I want to spill out every thought, every story that led to this as they play in my mind. I want to share the pain, the moments of confusion, doubt, and loss, I want to tell you how they all brought me here. I want to explain the significance of this award, the freedom it means, the support it offers. But for now all I can offer is gratitude. Gratitude to every soul that helped me, to every person at the foundation that read my story, and gratitude to the magic of this planet that has pulled at my heart since I was a child. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Now time to go laugh/weep/dance/nap/hug a tree.

[kabrynwanders-blog]

Y’all means ALL. 

Do we still have to even go over this? Love. Is. Love. 

March 2018.

[kabrynwanders-blog]

Foraged onions for dinner. Friends of Battle Park are the best! 

[kabrynwanders-blog]

A girl and a snake walk into a bar...

April 2018.

[kabrynwanders-blog]

It never ceases to amaze me that there's this person who travels around and does all these things. And its me. It doesn’t seem like me at all.”- Jane Goodall 

As I decompress from the day I just had, I’m in awe. I see this person, I live in this body and experience the brutal mundanity that is knowing all of your own secrets. I laugh at the normalcy of my evening. So far it’s been spent watching Parks and Recreation and eating Mexican take out with no pants on. Fancy. And yet, I guess it’s real. I am the person who was independently grant funded to do research on the Bali Starling. Who is, what do they say, “…just a community college student.” I am the person who completed the project without the support of a university. Who was tortured by learning the birds were poached. I dove deep into the mysteries of “black magic island,” and travelled the world only to come back to my rural corner of North Carolina and talk about it. I am the person who was shaking with anxiousness at 7:30 this morning. And I just won a 3rd place Derieux Research Award at the North Carolina Academy of Science for sharing the Bali Starling’s story. 

The theme today at the 115th annual North Carolina Academy of Science meeting was the importance of scientific communication outside of traditional academia and bridging the gap between the scientific community and the general public. The keynote speaker discussed the importance of taking the mystery and ego out of science. He spoke about the urgent need for relatable science, for empathy in conversation, and for truth, critical thought, and transparency in our communication. As I washed the day off my face and caught my reflection, the absurd relevance and honesty of my evening made me laugh out loud. Science isn’t scary, it’s not done by secret geniuses in lab coats in towers. It’s done by this person. It’s done by curious people just like you. 

If you are interested in my research, citizen science, or volunteering to talk to the public about how wonderful our natural world is, let’s chat. 

Self portrait, March 2018. Photo below taken on the same day.