Today, as promised, I spent nine hours in a TESL class. Or, to be completely accurate, it was more like eight hours in class, and one hour searching out, choosing, buying, and consuming lunch.

After class I ended up talking to a woman who works at the Governor's School that my cousin Sara attended. She did reiki on my wrist, and we talked about teaching and children and energy and medicine. As we went our separate ways for the night she told me that I was very interesting, and I thanked her, but a minute later I felt that I didn't deserve the compliment. After all, I don't think I said much of anything to her that was my own original thought. I think she was intrigued by my interest in natural living and my assertion that "modern medicine" is pretty backwards in that it is based entirely on fixing us once we're screwed up, rather than keeping us well in the first place. But those are not my ideas, of course. Those are the ideas I pull off the shelf and drop into my shopping cart as I peruse the grocery store of life. Some I've researched more than others. Some mean more to me than others. Some just "sound right," and I can't back them up with much beyond anecdotal evidence. Do I live all those shiny ideas? Hardly. I steer mostly away from soda and I try not to waste my money and health on m&m's, but I still eat chicken and beef that were raised in ways that, in all honesty, can only be called cruel. I drink out of the plastic water bottles at work. I don't eat particularly well. I don't discipline myself well in terms of sleep and exercise. So did I appreciate being called interesting? Of course. Am I ashamed at the fact that I'm probably not what she thinks I am? Yeah. That too.