This year has been interesting so far.

2012 started off pretty well. I did some soul searching and figured out that I wanted to become a librarian. I wouldn't quite call it my life's passion, but after working at a library as an aide (aka page), I realized I could see myself staying in that environment long-term. Here was a job that I could make into an enjoyable and fulfilling career. So I started doing research on grad school for a Master's in Library Science.

Then I read Lissa Rankin's book What's Up Down There? about women's health, which enlightened me in regards to how I should view my body and overall health. Her websites OwningPink.com and LissaRankin.com illustrate her innovative view of "whole health," which includes other aspects of life besides just physical well-being. She's also a champion of living life according to what she calls your "Inner Pilot Light," which basically means being true to yourself and listening to yeart heart and conscience.

My research on Lissa's ideas eventually led me to an inspiring TED talk by Brene Brown, which helped me more clearly form my outlook on life and people in general. I already believed in something close to what she said in the lecture, but my feelings on the subject were unfocused. Brene uses her extensive research on shame and vulnerability to posit that being vulnerable is the key to having healthy relationships with oneself and others, which, in turn, leads to contentment with life and prevents feelings of shame. Basically, she provided me with a clear outline of proof supporting my view of how the world works. I was so amazing that I bought both her book (which are excellent) and continue to gobble up everything she publishes.

In the midst of all that, however, was great tragedy. My Grandma Pat died on February 10th after fighting against numerous ailments that hit her back-to-back in a short stretch of time. We knew she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer a few months earlier, but what started the avalanche that buried her was a stupid little blood clot. It all happened too fast for me to write about while it was going on, and I still having trouble thinking about it now, five months later. In a way, though, I'm glad she didn't have to go through a long drawn-out process with chemotherapy and lingering discomfort. I do selfishly wish I had had more time with her, but she's no longer in pain and no longer has to feel anxious about impending treatment for terminal illness. I believe she is in a better place.

I definitely feel that I've grown a lot as an individual over the past few months. I've learned new things about myself and the world, I've come to terms with my outlook on life, and I feel closer to my family after spending so much time with them surrounding my grandma's illness. I've had some pretty rough times this year, but getting through them made me stronger. I feel like I have a purpose again, something to strive for, and even though I may need to dig a little deeper to find out whether librarianship is my true "calling," it's still something I care about deeply enough to pursue with vigor. This is where I'm at so far:

I don't feel a need to help kids learn directly, I aspire to help them want to learn. I guess that's why being a teacher doesn't really appeal to me but being a librarian does. A teacher has an obligation to try to impart knowledge on a specific subject, whether or not their students actually care to learn about it. A librarian has an obligation to aid someone who asks for knowledge, but if a person has no desire to learn about a certain topic, there is no obligation for the librarian to pursue the matter. A librarian's main goal is to make information available to everyone who wishes to learn it and to encourage learning across a broad spectrum. Teachers are like steering wheels and librarians are the road signs! The real trick is to inspire people, especially kids, to want to explore new ideas by making them fun, easy, and intriguing. Doing this for kids, especially, helps them grow into intelligent, confident, and inquisitive adults who continue to learn throughout their lives.