Wednesday, January 27, 2010

heaven unnoticed?

"Most people are so busy making improvements; they don't notice they just stepped out of heaven." Byron Katie

Friday, January 22, 2010

there is a lot number on my birth certificate.

(entry way of my "Cuban Family's" home)

True story. In the same genre, my mom and I used to have one tv which made the picture. On top of it? That's right: the tv with the sound. Sometimes we had to hit the bottom one just a little bit. This is a life skill I've taken into my profession.
6 year old: "The stapler is broke again."
me: "Did you try hitting it just a little bit?"

You know what is really comical, though? I used to think I was poor; I really thought that. I thought I was poor because we had thrift store Christmases sometimes. I thought I was poor because I was one of the few kids who had the special free lunch ticket. We lived in a trailer, and when we didn't, we were moving all the time. Didn't get braces. Went to the sliding scale clinic. I thought I was poor. I was poor, and others around me were rich.

Somehow, I reveled in this, starting pretty young. Our minds will do what they can to organize social ambiguity into something seemingly emotionally reliable. Pride. I felt proud not to care I was "poor," to be brave enough to invite my friends from beautiful homes into my little trailer. A humility which was it's own form of arrogance, somehow; I reveled in our differentness.


(happy accident in the ghettoasis)

My identification, my egoic hat if you will, hanging carefully on the hook of the deeper things in life, or so I thought. One more illusory division, or really, a failure to accept the illusory nature of our differences...whether I shop at a thrift store, or you have hair extensions...whether I read Vonnegut, or you read magazines...whether you volunteer your time with children, and I spend my time on myself...We are made of the same stuff. Somehow, I the best description I have for said stuff is: compassion. Peel the onion. Peel it. There is no core; that is a myth. Inside, is emptyness...pure potential...sameness....love.

I didn't always know this. I thought I did. Peel on, another layer. Lose count. The futility of being careful. Shed tear; the stinging, cleansing inevitability.

And then I met Invalvis, one lovely day in Havana. With her, once again, I met my own naivety.

More to come...

p.s. Then, I did not know this. And even knowing it now isn't enough; I feel this internal drive to see it, live amongst it. It just is.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

I am...



...suggesting you may not want to read my little list...could be quite boring!
...needing to catch up on EVERYTHING! Reading my little, special-to-me blog friends, taking photos and uploading them here, being focused enough to write something sensible here.
...finally reading The Alchemist
...hoping I will enjoy it as much as 11 Minutes; this is a bit of a guilty love, as it's explores the spirituality of sexuality. I believe it is the outlier among his books.
...wondering if Paulo Coelho would accept a date with me
...am getting divorced. Yes, you read that right. No dramas. No scandals. Will expound later. Hard to explain, but it is a move forward for us both, and neither of us see our relationship as a mistake. We remain good friends. We have been, believe it or not, more or less separated for about a year- it is still hard, of course, because it is the human condition to feel dissonance over the ambiguity which is woven into life's big changes; it is also exciting and hopeful, if that makes sense. On my Cuba trip, this wonderful, full of light woman from San Francisco, had my favorite reaction so far. No "sorry.: No "I feel so bad." No "how unfortunate." She just said, "Peace to you in your lovely transition." And that is all it is; because isn't that all anything is? Lovely? It happened exactly as it was supposed to. How do I know? Because that is what happened. It was lovely. And now it is something else. And that is lovely, too.
...questioning the practicality of marriage; have you seen Ira + Abby?
...reading like a zillion books at once...personal finance, global economy, freelance writing, etc.
...Doing the Body For Life program. I've been rocking out the gym in general for awhile now. Things keep getting smaller, but I'd like to have more choice in the engineering of the shapes on my body! So, BFL, in a nut shell, = less, more intense cardio + lots more weight training.
...I'm working tons extra so that I can afford some fabulousness, of which I will speak once it has happened (remember, I have become superstitious about mentioning).
...Was all set to move to Shanghai. Really. Did not turn out to make sense for this year, as the job I REALLY want turned out to be in Hong Kong, and I am not qualified until I have had some Montessori training. So, seems best to stay here a year or two at the job I already know I love rather than take a 2 year interim job. Also, it will be difficult to be Montessori trained in China, as you have to pay the entire fee up front, and it is very expensive. I've come to believe Montessori was a genius; constructivism is the pedagogy of awakening the senses, engaging the intellect...which can save the world, I truly believe.
...still continuing my little obsession with China. I very much feel a deep drive to experience living there, and to lean into my nomadic side in general- to feed what has become a passion for two way dual language programs, which I believe are a pedagogy of world peace. I knew I'd get hired at this job in Shanghai, but something I've realized about myself is that I will not be happy without nature all around me. Shanghai will not have that. HK is polluted, yes, but beautiful. I do not know if I can explain my need for this move; it is almost an intuition, a pull, more than anything. I can tell you it has something to do with the environment, with communism, the concept of oppression in cultures, globalization. When I came to understand the seriousness of the pollution in some Asian cities, I cannot explain how this hit me. I thought of the children living there, how spiritually oppressive that must be, living in such degradation; I felt (feel) this drive to see it, to go to the source to define my convictions, to be intimate with it. This is part of why I went to Cuba- to go to the source to define my convictions- and on the last day, I was overcome with emotion because I realized that I could no better define my conviction the final day than I could when I booked the trip. In a way, I did, though, because I made the Howard Thurman quote from the previous post into my religion, and I have been living it ever sense.
...honestly reveling in another year or two with my lovely little house, my happy little prius (who taught me to like to drive!), the best job in the world, and the best neighborhood in the world!
...speaking of my job, I'm getting my first student teacher! I'm such a nerd about the responsibilities of teachers to engage in critical pedagogy rather than bitch of how difficult we have it bc of testing dramas, that I am thrilled to share my room. I would love to teach teachers someday; I am so passionate about turning on little minds, to think I could help connect someone with what makes them come alive...more so than ever after teaching in the state that led the country in the push for oppressive, low level overtesting. It feels systematic to me...a systematic dulling of the intellect, a systematic training of "in the box" thinking. It feels like Vonnegut's Harrison Bergeron.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

this was acutally legal (promise)


I went to Cuba. I realized it is my first island. I saw lots of 50's American cars.


True to my travel nature, I mostly veered from the group and wondered on my own; this is how I like to travel. I find 99 percent of people a bit too needy to travel with, as I like to go off on my own with little notice, and it can piss others off. It's not you; it's me. On my adventures, I met a wonderful Cuban family. Here I am (I don't love this pic of me, but it's all I have with my friend!) with Inalvis. She is a nurse. 34. Master's degree. Fluent in English. Working on French. Of course, not allowed to leave the country to visit the places in which these languages are relevant. Oppression weighs heavy on my heart during the trip, as I spend time with my friend. I am certain we will meet again, when I return to Cuba; maybe somehow she will someday be able to visit here.


The tourists' view of Havana.

Beautiful, breath-taking "Old Havana."

I went tentative, but kind of thinking I'd gain a greater respect for Marx, Che...Instead, I am in a state of wondering...though an obvious ideal, can systems such as these exist realistically outside of a vacuum? As "lefties," it can be convenient and even hip to love Che; the irony of the commoditization of the famous print of him cannot escape us, of course! Do they have homelessness, abject poverty, a literacy problem?? No, and that is amazing for a developing nation; however, I am in dissonance, especially over who feels like my Cuban sister, for example. ... how we are both educated, professionals, about the same age...but do I believe that she has human rights? Can I place a value on dreams? Aspirations? Is it true what Jeffrey Sachs seems to hint at in his book, The End of Poverty, that there is something ingenious that is inherent in systems like capitalism (obviously not unbridled, multinational, monopolized versions...including corporate dictatorship)...that will lead to innovations which will lead to the end of poverty much more efficiently and realistically than systems of strict government control? I almost can't believe I am saying some of this. Instead of being overwhelmed, I am taking solace in the following quote by Howard Thurman, a mentor of MLK:

“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”

-Howard Thurman