As a white, middle-class, American girl, I grew up in privilege compared to the majority of girls in our world. Even so, I remember being told by an advisor that I should take statistics instead of calculus because “math is hard for girls.” I remember being questioned incessantly by the long-married girls my age in a Turkish town; they were highly suspicious of my intelligence for remaining unmarried and traveling by myself at 22. I remember the story my mother told me of how her highschool guidance counselor refused to submit her application to Stanford because attendance at a university like that would diminish her prospects for a good husband and happy life. I remember how the visiting Econ professor in college would only take questions from the raised hands belonging to men. I share these moments with you not to equate my condition with that of others but rather to connect the dots along of spectrum of experience, to form a thread of compassion and commitment. I have a privileged life. Girls everywhere deserve the same. And eventually, hopefully, being a girl – anywhere – won’t have any strings attached. The world will be that much more amazing for it.

I believe in the Girl Effect.

• 1 more year of primary school boosts a girl’s eventual wages 10-20%; a year of secondary school boosts it 15-25%.
• women reinvest 90% of their income into their families; men reinvest 30-40% of their income into their families.
• of the approximately 130 million youths not in school, 70% are girls.
• 1 in 7 girls in developing countries marries before age 15.
• 75% of those aged 15-24 living with HIV in Africa are girls.

These sobering statistics, and more, can be found at GirlEffect.org.

Ships Graveyard in Pakistan #3 by GMB Akash

Born to Work #10 by GMB Akash

Smoke and Ashes #2 by GMB Akash

Please go and explore his website. His pictures are stunning; the stories he is telling must be told. I hope, one day, our paths will cross. Til then, I will journey to the places he explores through each image he shares with the world.

Do you know of an artist who brings you breathless pleasure? Let me know!

clouds

Doesn’t it look like the sky is trying to tell us something?

What do you see?

by ryascolot / flickr

I’ve never been to Egypt or Tunisia or Libya or Bahrain, but my heart and thoughts are tangled in those places now. I hope, one day, to visit each country and listen to stories of how revolution in 2011 brought greater peace, freedom and equal rights to the people. At the moment, however, I pray that political transitions in Egypt and Tunisia continue to be non-violent and that the violence in Libya and Bahrain ceases as soon as possible. Children should not have to live in fear to ensure a better future, nor should any man or woman.

Peace be with you.

by Mondayne / flickr

I identify myself as a traveler more consistently than I identify myself as anything else. I simply love to travel – and by travel, I mean use a passport, venture into a culture different from my own, immerse myself in the melodies of a language other than English. I’ve been traveling since I was an infant; I took my first overseas flight before my first birthday. I’ve lived in Germany, Greece, Brazil, Czechoslovakia and the Czech Republic. I’ve been incredibly fortunate to be able to visit many more countries than those in which I’ve lived. As I’ve gotten older, however, the frequency with which I travel has decreased dramatically. Whether it’s a lack of vacation days, lack of funds or lack of courage, there seem to be many more obstacles between me and the next great adventure now than there were when I was in my 20s.

The last overseas trip I took was to Ireland in 2009. It didn’t end well. Before that, it had been six years; I visited China and Tibet in 2003. I don’t count trips to Canada – sorry Canucks!

THIS WILL NOT DO!!!

I am on a mission to break out the passport again this year, dispel any jinx created by the Celtic gods, and expand my wings. In pursuit of this mission, I’ve joined the Travel Hacking Cartel. The Cartel was created by Chris Guillebeau, whose own travel experiences make mine look like armchair fantasies. I intend to use the tricks and trips I’ve learned in the past few weeks since it’s launch, and going forward into the coming months, to achieve two primary goals: 1) a trip to Italy this year and 2) a trip to Bhutan by the end of 2013. I expect numerous additional perks and unplanned excursions to come about as well. I’ve already acquired 1000 miles in less than 20 minutes of doing, well, basically nothing. Check out the Cartel for yourself, if you have any interest in traveling without paying through the nose.

Full disclosure: I am an affiliate of the program, which means I get perks for referrals. I’m also a huge fan, for which I get nothing but joy.

Traveling is the spine of my existence. I want to continue to honor that truth, to honor my passion for it, to honor the pleasure it brings me.

What does traveling do for you? And where do you want to go next?

Wonder. How did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year? (via @JeffreyDavis108)

Today’s #reverb10 prompt caught me by surprise – not the challenge of it but rather the simplicity of it. I did not have to SEARCH for the answer.

I don’t cultivate a sense of wonder in my life.

Instead, I am in an almost constant state of wonder, WITHOUT HAVING TO DO A DAMN THING.

Okay… maybe that’s a slight exaggeration. I do have to do something… PAY ATTENTION.

To what?

To my five senses:

SIGHT

I almost always have fresh-cut flowers in my home, regardless of the season. How can one not be in a perpetual state of wonder when looking at a blossom? I live in a city that affords me opportunities to see roaring surf, expanses of white sand, rugged hills (coming from Colorado, as I do, I can’t actually call them mountains), towering palms, lakes, deer and coyotes at sunset, even the occasional baby skunk behind a dumpster or deciduous tree changing its coat. The seasons are marked by the type of blooms sharing their glory with anyone taking the time to LOOK. Past the billboards and starlets, nature beckons and one would have to be blind to ignore the wonder of it. No cultivation necessary.

HEARING

I grew up playing the piano. It became a chore when I entered adolescence. I resented the time I spent practicing and competing; I vainly wished to spend my time anywhere but on the piano bench. But an appreciation for music and musical talent, of all genre, wove its way into my bloodstream. Luckily, there’s a radio station in town that is as eclectic as I. I’m frequently stunned by a melody or turn of phrase in a lyric or new voice – caught between envy and awe. Who wouldn’t wish to sing from the gut like Florence and the Machine or evoke the full spectrum of emotions without words like Djivan Gasparyan?

And then, there’s that thing that happens any time one hears a child giggle or a lover laugh, particularly if I’ve been the cause but not the target. SERIOUS WONDERMENT!

TOUCH

I may blame my cat for a lot of things, but any time I touch her fur… I sink into wonder.

Bella

I sink into a different kind of wonder any time a trusted man’s lips or hands touch me, but that’s not so much this year as last, and hopefully next.

TASTE

Chocolate. Dark chocolate. As only as people keep producing dark chocolate for my consumption, I shall stay in a state of wonder. Oh, and raspberries…

SMELL

The scent of a fart is a true wonder to behold. Not what you expected I’d say, I bet. Seriously, I am often utterly befuddled by the power of poop. How can it be so pungent? And why does the scent dissipate so slowly, particularly when one cannot escape?

by Express Monorail / flickr

Every moment is full of wonder. The examples are infinite; I’ve only mentioned a few of the offerings. All it takes is for me to notice the world around me, to use the five senses I’ve been granted.

How has your relationship with wonder been this year? Have you kept in touch?

Take a gander:

And while you’re at it, check out Annie’s take on the cosmetics industry:

It makes me shiver. And not because winter is on its way.

What do you think?

I feel pity for anyone who lives on the East Coast, or in the South. Having grown up in Colorado, and now residing in Southern California, I don’t know how to work with the whole HUMIDITY thing. I love waterfalls, but not when they are running down my back in the form of sweat. It was so humid in the Big Apple this past week that I could barely breathe. Where are gills when you need them?

by Patrick Theiner / flickr

Also, there is no sky in New York City. You have to be in the middle of Central Park or high up in a building to get any sense of a horizon. Very strange for someone like me, who has lived most of her life with the wide open expanses of the West.

by John "K" / flickr

I’d never noticed that before – that you can’t see the sky – and I’ve been to the city many times. I was born there. I have family there. It’s a great place. But I’m a West Coast girl. This trip reminded me how very much that holds true.

I stayed at my aunt and uncle’s place on the upper west side instead of in the hotel at which BlogHer was held. They have a gorgeous, rent-controlled apartment for which I might kill if I didn’t a) fear CSI technology and b) enjoy their company so much.

I could see the sky from their multitude of windows.

But I had to take a subway to the conference, which was in midtown.

I’m pro-environment and sustainable living – and was thrilled at the chance to chat with fellow BlogHer attendee Green L.A. Girl at Friday’s breakfast – but putting me in a subway on a humid, August morning with half of Manhattan is not the way to sell me on public transportation. I loved the Metro in Prague during the two years I lived there, but it was clean and air-conditioned and, honestly, I might have liked people more back then. My tolerance for human populations has lessened the longer I am among them. I really like my car. I like the bubble it provides me. And the control. I freely admit that living in L.A. has made me soft.

One-on-one, however, people can be amazing. At BlogHer, I could have talked (and DID, in some instances) for hours with Denise, Melissa, Lindsey, Jason, Justine, Silver, Amie… Old friends, twitter friends, strangers turned new-found friends.

That moment in a conversation when things click and the thought blindsides you: I really like this person, I’m going to know her/his name, I am listening, this matters.

People terrify me. I’m afraid that I’ll appear idiotic, boring, self-obsessed, insensitive, dumb, needy, egotistical… I never know what to say. I assume the person with whom I’m speaking would MUCH RATHER be talking to someone else, anyone else. And I forget that, frequently, the person with whom I’m speaking has many of the same fears. So it’s fairly remarkable when I step through my insecurities and I can sense the other person has stepped through theirs and, if even for a moment, there is contact.

That’s what BlogHer was for me this year… CONTACT. And I look forward to next year in San Diego for a bit more. But I could not have been happier late Saturday night as the conference ended and I made my way uptown for the last time, knowing that I’d be heading to Penn Station the next morning on my way to the shell-strewn beaches of East Hampton…

(to be continued…)

• Is this cough tickling my lungs just my imagination, a chest cold, or pneumonia?
• How many dolphins will die as a result of the BP oil spill? Will the rest of the marine population hate us forever and plot a suitable revenge?
• Why does this country still pretend the aggressor is the victim in the Gaza flotilla tragedy and greater Israeli-Palestinian issue, and refuse to call a spade a spade?
• Will I ever get back in shape?
• When will I move past my frustrations with my mother?
• If I never sweep the floor, will the dust bunnies continue to multiply or reach an equilibrium, like goldfish in a tank?
• Will I ever enjoy a work of fiction as much as I enjoyed The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society?
• Do I believe my financial situation can radically change?
• Will I regret it if I delete my Facebook account? What if I delete my LinkedIn account?
• Why won’t people stop telling me about great blogs I’ve missed?
• Why aren’t the FedEx and UPS guys who service my area ever cute?
• Should I rent The Cove tonight, for a good cry of frustration, horror and impotence?
• What should the next piece of jewelry I design for Noted Design look like?
• Why does my cat eat my hair while I sleep?
• Now that I know more about the connection between counterfeit products and human trafficking, thanks to Deluxe, will I stick to my principles and forego the next beautiful Chloe purse knock-off?
• Why does laundry never fucking end?
• Why am I letting my cough/chest cold/pneumonia keep me from grabbing coffee with a friend and heading to a BBQ?
• Why don’t more people refuse to go to war?

It’s a wonder I ever sleep, isn’t it? I think it all justifies my love of romantic comedies, however. Anything to shut off my brain…

Hope you didn’t stub your toe on anything, or get lost in the mayhem.

What would a tour through your head currently look like?

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH.

Here are a couple fun and impactful reminders of why we should probably listen, generously provided by Annie Leonard.

Doesn’t it all just make you wanna go hug a tree?

Go walk barefoot in the grass for five minutes. Brush your hand against a tree trunk. Take a moment to breathe in the scent of a garden flower. And if you can’t do any of that today, on Earth Day, stop for a moment and ask yourself…

WHY THE HELL NOT?